Sturgeon’s imperfect truth trumps Salmond’s version

IT’S rare for any story in British politics to upstage a UK Government Budget, let alone one amid global economic meltdown.

It was then, with a perverted sense of pride, that many Scots tuned into First Minister Nicola Sturgeon’s grilling – by a committee investigating her government’s handling of complaints of sexual impropriety against Alex Salmond – vaguely aware that for a brief time Scotland was the centre of the British political universe.

Just a week before, former first minister Alex Salmond had taken the hot seat. His appearance was highly anticipated. But in his opening remarks, it became evident why he had uncharacteristically eschewed the heat of the media spotlight until his appearance before the committee – at the high-profile inquiry he would stage a triumphant return to public life.

Sturgeon, by contrast, was reluctant. Salmond relished the opportunity. This was a fight Sturgeon would happily have walked away from.

Salmond’s appearance had two main purposes – make open war on his former protégé and remind anyone daft enough to have forgotten, just how formidable and ruthless an operator he is, while laying the groundwork for his rehabilitation as a public figure.

If he pulled off the high-wire act – damaging Sturgeon, proving the alleged conspiracy and recasting himself not only as a victim but, bizarrely, also as an ally of the women who made complaints about him – it may have been hard for many to stomach, but an undeniably impressive feat nonetheless. He has a nose for narrative. She must remind herself not to speak too technically. He is famed for his high-risk behaviour. She is cautious to a fault. He is out of practice. She is in the form of her political life. The only trait they appear to share is their visible contempt when questioned or contradicted, but that says as much about the corruptive nature of power as it does about them as people.

Aside from the important facts the committee sought to establish, this was a battle between two personality types. Not one of political skill, but of temperament. Salmond’s performative humility was an effort to conceal that he is driven by a manly fury to prevail at all costs – no matter who is impaled by the wreckage in the vast political debris-field. Sturgeon did not simply portray emotional intelligence and humility as part of a performance. Evidently, despite her flaws, she possesses traces of these attributes as a person.

That doesn’t mean she was completely honest, but Salmond’s claim of a dark plot waned in believability upon contact with Sturgeon’s imperfect but slightly more plausible version of events.

Questions remain over the leaking of a complainant’s name to Salmond’s team, why Sturgeon didn’t report and record the April 2 meeting and the Scottish Government’s decision to persist with costly legal action despite many ominous warnings. Opponents will rightly make heavy weather of these and Sturgeon may yet be found to have broken the ministerial code. But it’s a question of intent.

Her testimony, while hardly free of conjecture, painted a picture of institutional panic, political anxiety and the inevitable human error arising from the overdue but chaotic global outpouring around the sexual harassment of women by powerful men. Salmond painted a picture of that somehow being about him. In a sense, they were both right.

This was a sobering reminder that while the truth is often harder to accept than a tall tale, the explanation which relies on the fewest assumptions is usually the safest bet. This is not to say Sturgeon’s version of events is entirely true – it’s just truer than Salmond’s.

FANS of her radio show have always thought she was the Queen of Hearts – and now she is.

Amanda Holden dressed up as the

Alice in Wonderland character for World Book Day. She was joined in fancy dress by fellow Heart FM hosts Jamie Theakston and Ashley Roberts.