Sturgeon’s so wrong but I do admire her

Everything nicola Sturgeon says makes my blood boil. the hateful rhetoric about ‘locking the tories out’; the way she seems intent on stirring up Scottish resentment towards the english.

And her determination to support a weak minority Labour government in exchange for greater concessions for Scotland at the expense of the taxpayer.

And yet there is something about the woman that i find utterly compelling.

Because not only is Sturgeon one of the most effective politicians this country has seen in a long while, she is also precisely the sort of woman we need to see more of at Westminster.

She is not, of course, standing for a seat next week — but in some ways i wish she were. Sturgeon would cut through the pomp and sexism of the Commons like a dose of salts, in much the same way that another controversial lady with dodgy hair did four decades ago.

Because in spirit, if not in ideology, Sturgeon is remarkably similar to the woman she claims to despise the most: Margaret thatcher.

Like Sturgeon, thatcher was an outsider; a woman with no connections to the governing elite, drawn to politics through passion and long-held beliefs.

She had vision, courage and conviction — and an ability to cut through the niceties of over-educated, overprivileged opinion formers. She knew her mind and was not afraid to speak it — even in the face of ridicule.

But the similarities don’t stop there. there are even parallels in their personal lives. thatcher’s husband, Denis, was often portrayed as a bit of a downtrodden drunk. in fact, he exerted a sobering influence on his wife, both politically and strategically.

Peter Murrell, Sturgeon’s husband, is also hugely involved in his wife’s career. not only is he chief executive of the SnP, he is also widely credited for masterminding his wife’s recent — and very successful — makeover.

Despite that, he, too, is largely derided. his nickname is Penfold, after the meek sidekick of tv cartoon hero Dangermouse.

Sturgeon’s tactics, too, are reminiscent of the thatcherite era. She gives the lie to almost every fashionable modern political theory: that you must only appear at carefully stage-managed events; that you must not stray off-message; that you must show a calm grasp of the facts rather than passion and emotion.

unlike every mainstream senior politician on the campaign trail, she also has a genuine connection with the grass roots of her party, whom she treats with respect rather than a faint whiff of revulsion. you sense that she really gets the dreams and frustrations of ordinary people.

She also shares Mrs thatcher’s legendary disregard for political etiquette. Maggie never quite mastered the Sir humphrey-like nuances of a well-oiled, intellectually slick network of ex-public schoolboys. And neither can Sturgeon.

not that she cares. She couldn’t give a stuff whose nose she puts out of joint: what matters is getting her message across.

And that, really, is the heart of the matter. they stand out as the kind of women who just roll up their sleeves and get on with it.

Sturgeon also illustrates one of the basic truths of successful women in politics: that for all the appeal of a Cameron Cutie, what voters really respect is someone who mirrors the qualities of the most important female figure in their lives: their mother. it’s no coincidence that the germans call Chancellor Angela Merkel Mutti, or mummy.

thatcher was the ultimate political matriarch. Sturgeon is more of a nanny McPhee figure, the sort of unprepossessing woman who may lack initial appeal, but who ultimately turns out to be wise and canny.

her policies may be swivel- eyed, but if the tories had a woman with one-tenth of her talent, i for one would be breaking out the bunting on May 8.