Rab McNeil
A long time in politics 1 June 2009 I couldn’t believe when folk started chuntering about the Nats having been in power for nearly two years. Surely, they’d only been voted in yesterday? Two years is, clearly, a short time in politics. Of course, in that time, the Nats have achieved very little. This is hardly surprising, as they operate in a Parliament specifically designed to achieve very little. Sure, the administration will be able to point at Stuff: increased expenditure here, an extra half a police constable there. But probably the only thing the voters noticed was the tolls coming off the bridges. It’s the stuff you can see and feel that counts. Interparty arguments with big numbers about who spent what and where impinge not a whit in the celebra of the electorate. There’s also Homecoming, of course, but I’ve never quite got my head round that. Who is coming home and why? And, more importantly, why now? Part of the reason for the apparent warping of time in government may be due to the inordinate amount of vacation time that is set aside in the calendar. As I have to time my holidays as closely as possible to theirs (except for the long summer vac, obviously), I am often to be heard throughout the year crying: “Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t tell me I have to take another ruddy holiday!” All right, I knows it’s not so much of a holiday for the MSPs. While I am sunning myself in the Borders, they have their constituency duties to perform. What the nation sees in the debating chamber is merely the fluff on the belly button of the body politic. This is the place for play-actors, showoffs and personalities uninhibited by shame or reason. But the real world is out there, in the leaking roofs of Govan and the chronic ill-health of Shotts and the greater Airdrie area generally. All the same, a feeling remains that, inside Parliament itself, time seems simultaneously to stand still and leap ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dr Who (Green Party) turned up one day to investigate the phenomenon. There’s a bit of talking, some argie-bargie, a motion or two, and the next thing you know, two years have passed. One of the many things that amuses me in Parliament is the argument that one cannot focus on some matters because these take up valuable time. This logical absurdity was trotted out relentlessly during the successful campaign to ban fox-mangling. Basically, if someone doesn’t like something, they say it cannot be discussed or acted upon, what with the economy and everything. Logically, on this argument, Parliament would discuss the economy and nothing else. It is clearly the most important thing going and, even though Holyrood can do little to alter or improve matters, it is what must be focused on 24/7, if I may use yon modern parlance in such antiquarian company. The same argument is trotted out about independence. Yes, it’s only the most important constitutional shakeup for 300 years, but I can’t see how we can make time for that between the dog-fouling debate and my motion congratulating the local Greggs on fulfilling its quarterly quota. The fact is, all manner of guff – infinitely less important than fox-mangling or the constitution – is discussed and acted upon in Parliament. It can’t all be tophole stuff about the stupid economy, just as a newspaper can’t all be front-page stories. But, as Sandy Denny so beautifully sang, who knows where the time goes? At least the one-minute warning from the presiding orifice’s chair has gone. This dire, doom-laden announcement was made when a member had one minute of time left in which to conclude his or her oration to the nation. Often, the member would be coming towards a dramatic climax, or they might be flowing along gently in a sparkling stream of reason, when this boorish interruption (at its loudest and most disconcerting when announced by Murray Tosh, formerly of this parish and still of fond memory) cut across the atmosphere like a thunderbolt. I’m not sure what members are meant to do now, right enough. Glance up at the clock, I suppose. Perhaps a gentle ping could be made or a hooter might go off. But, deep down inside, every MSP knows they do not have all the time in the world. What the Nat administration at Holyrood does have is another two years. I dare say it won’t be enough while, at the same time, I’m not sure how they’ll fill the time. Crises will come up, no doubt. A couple of scandals wouldn’t go amiss, since these are what the lieges love. The clock is ticking on the Nat administration, and the nation wonders if it will have achieved all it set out to do when its four years are up. Only time will tell. Related articles: Politics and principles 3 September 2010 Hello voters 25 June 2010 Off the menu 11 June 2010 Life but not as we know it 28 May 2010 Magnetic result 17 May 2010 See all articles in this category Submit a comment |
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