Rab McNeil
Sticks and stones 23 November 2009 HOW encouraging to read that the main British political party leaders intend engaging in personal attacks, come the general election campaign.  Speaking as the ordinary voter often referred to by ideologues, I can honestly say that I like nothing better than to see the whole shenanigans degenerating into a bun- fight. Hullabaloo is at the heart of politics, and taking out essential elements – such as name-calling and aspersion-casting – would only fuel the apathy so prevalent among young people and other hooligans today. I recall Jack McConnell trying to do this when he launched Labour’s campaign for the second elections to the Scottish Parliament in 2003. This whole event was decidedly odd, being held in the evening, under a sliver of moon, in a basketball court attached to an Edinburgh school. You know, sometimes I look back on my career as a journalist and wonder if I dreamed these things up. But, no, I have the cutting in front of me. Anyway, Kath Bush was nibbling on my ear as two unattributable men behind a desk in the playground told us that, according to new research, the electorate thought politicians just “slagged each other off”. Correct. However, the conclusion drawn by the boffins under advisement was that voters didn’t care for this sort of thing. What rot! Oh sure, the voters say they don’t care for it. But, one thing a lifetime observing politics has taught me is: never believe the voters. Deep down, they love a bit of slagging. Jack, who was moonlighting as First Minister at the time, announced: “What we are proposing here is a new kind of political campaign.” This, he threatened, would be a campaign devoid of political abuse. And did this campaign ensue? Ladies and gentlethugs, it did not. Of course it didn’t. Get a grip. This is the real world we’re talking about here (Kate Bush’s ear-nibbling apart). They were at each other like demented ferrets before the first election leaflet had been bunged into the first householder’s bin. According to informed political opinion down the pub, Britainshire is heading for the dirtiest general election in memory. The basis for a splendid political pagger is already evident in the deep antagonism between Broon, Prime Minister of England and the Other Bits, and Dave, the thinking man’s Boris Johnson. Already, the Tories are painting Broon as a “depressing personality”. No, never! Whatever will they say next? That Lord Mandelson is sinister? But, to be fair, I suppose it’s their eagerness to milk Broon’s self-evident psychological flaws – basically, he’s a nutter – that holds out the most promise for enjoyable slurs during the election. Broon’s mob, for their part, are going to try and paint Mr O’Cameron as a “rich toff”, which is pretty hard to deny. He doesn’t speak like normal, ordinary people – ken? – and there are pictures of him from his youth, in top hat and tails, eating raw foxes fed to him by a footman. Highlighting this other, darker side of Dave the Lad ought to do the trick. American research shows that putting the rhetorical boot into your opponent gets the electorate’s adrenalin going. The lazy, apathetic sods won’t give you the time of day until you say something spicy or rude, and it’s a wellknown fact that they tend to go for the candidate with the best line in insults. An electoral campaign in which the candidates just talked cack about the stupid economy could see many people voting for their feet. However, I would not recommend this. I’ve tried. Generally, it’s quite easy getting the pencil between your toes, but it’s murder trying to put your cross in the right box with it. You say: “This is all very well, Rabbie, my boy. But surely it could all get a bit unseemly. It isn’t the Scottish way to insult people and flick metaphorical bogies at them.” Jeezo, mate, how are you enjoying your first day on the planet Earth? Have you never been into the Scottish Parliament? Never seen a Labour by-election campaign? Name-calling is at the heart of the democratic process. In Scotia, flyting is the national sport. Foreign people look on amazed as friends call each other “dickheid”, “bawheid” and worse, thinking that with our cranium-based insults we have fallen out, when we are just cementing our comradeship. All right, in politics I accept that the insults have got to be classier than “dickheid” or “heid the baw”. But politicians have form here. Churchill’s description of Attlee as “a modest man, with much to be modest about” fits the bill. Margot Asquith on David Lloyd George was also pretty good: “He couldn’t see a belt without hitting below it.” Or Lloyd George himself on Sir John Simon: “The right honourable and learned gentleman has twice crossed the floor of this House, each time leaving behind a trail of slime.” On the other hand, Hugo Chavez’s observation of George Bush – “You are a donkey” – probably needs a bit of work. But they’re all grist to the mill. So, for God’s sake, chaps and lassies, get wired into each other. You know it makes political sense. 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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