The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)
Breaking the story of Salmond sex claims
Courier editor DAVID CLEGG was working for the Daily Record in 2018 when he broke the story that former first minister Alex Salmond was facing allegations of sexual assault. His new book traces the fallout of the political scandal that shook Scotland and how it destroyed Salmond’s relationship with his successor, Nicola Sturgeon.
Iwas working in a quiet corner of a Dundee coffee shop on the afternoon of August 23 2018 when I received the most memorable email of my life.
It was from the Daily Record’s head of news, Kevin Mansi, and contained just five words and a picture.
“Anon letter that’s come in.” The unremarkable introduction meant I nearly spat out my coffee when my phone loaded the attachment, a scanned copy of a 100-word document which had arrived at the newspaper’s Glasgow office that morning.
The contents, headlined “Scottish Government reports Salmond to police”, were absolutely incendiary.
An anonymous whistleblower was claiming that two women had made sexual misconduct complaints against the former first minister.
The government had investigated the allegations before passing them to the police.
A summary of the most serious charge was also included. It described an alleged late night sexual assault by Mr Salmond on a young female civil servant.
The claims were so extraordinary that the natural reaction was to dismiss them as the work of a crank. Yet on an initial reading my instinct was that several elements of the document seemed authentic.
The dry language used to summarise alleged behaviour that would ultimately become a criminal charge of sexual assault with intent to rape could only have been penned by a civil servant.
The small details also felt right – in particular the use of the three letters FFM to describe Salmond. It was an abbreviation for former first minister that would mean nothing to the general public but which I had heard many times in political circles.
On balance, my judgment was that it was entirely plausible that the account was genuine. It was also safe to assume that if it wasn’t a hoax then we were in a race against time to break the story.
If this information had reached us, it would not be long until other media organisations also got wind of it.
For all we knew, a similar package could have arrived at the office of every newspaper in the country that morning.
We had to proceed with speed, caution and care. I immediately left the cafe and sprinted the half-mile back to my house.
This was not the first occasion during my time as political editor of the Record that I had been given cause to suspect Salmond could be a potential subject of harassment complaints.
I’d been covering the Scottish Parliament for seven years when the #Metoo movement erupted in the autumn of 2017 and sparked a wave of intense scrutiny of the behaviour of powerful men.
It was during efforts to establish the accuracy of rumours circulating about SNP minister Mark Mcdonald that I had a conversation with a Scottish Government official that would set the course for what followed.
The well-placed figure insisted he had heard nothing unsettling about Mcdonald’s conduct before adding dramatically: “Everyone working in government knows that if a Harvey Weinstein scandal is going to emerge in Scotland, it will be about Alex Salmond.”
Stunned by this comment from a normally level-headed contact, I immediately rang my editor, Murray Foote, to discuss what to do.
It was decided that I should drop all other stories and spend the next few weeks digging into Salmond. I began contacting civil servants, SNP staffers and government employees I knew had worked closely with the former first minister in the previous two decades.
A pattern quickly emerged. Salmond was described as a ferocious boss and hard taskmaster who was prone to shouting and swearing at staff. The word “bully” cropped up again and again.
Several sources also claimed the Scottish Government had implemented a secret policy prior to the independence referendum to ensure the safety of female employees working at close quarters with Salmond.
Yet it was also evident the former first minister was an extremely talented and charismatic leader who inspired feelings of loyalty and devotion in subordinates – even those he mistreated.
The picture was of a powerful man with a quick temper who had presided over a toxic culture that saw his erratic behaviour indulged and covered up by the civil service.
On 31 October 2017, I submitted a series of questions to the Scottish Government asking if any complaints had been made about Salmond during his time as first minister.
In a separate media inquiry, I also asked if a policy had been put in place to stop women working alone late at night with him. The government insisted there had been no policy and no complaints.
Despite continuing whispers at Holyrood about Salmond having skeletons in his closet, none of the claims could be corroborated with sufficient certainty to allow publication.
The news agenda moved on, but the gossip in Scottish political circles continued to focus on Salmond’s past behaviour.
The anonymous letter that had arrived at Record HQ almost a year later suggested there was now something concrete to report on and we would have to move fast.
I contacted the Scottish Government and asked for a comment shortly before 4pm, while Mansi made a similar call to Police Scotland for information on the status of their investigation.
The reaction from both organisations was bizarre and panicked – giving us renewed confidence in the accuracy of our information.
The Scottish Government press office did not deny the substance of what was put to them but would not be drawn on the details.
After several frustrating phone calls, I sent an email to the organisation’s head of news at 7.06pm highlighting First Minister Nicola Sturgeon’s repeated public commitments to transparency in dealing with any alleged cases of harassment and demanding that her words were translated into action.
In a bluff aimed at forcing the issue, I added: “I can confirm that we are proceeding with this story and I will need a response by 7.30pm. I also should inform you that it is likely the Scottish Government’s stonewalling of legitimate press inquiries on this matter may form a part of the story if a comment is not forthcoming.”
I strongly suspected Sturgeon’s administration could be trying to cover up the existence of the complaints to protect Salmond and the wider SNP.
Ironically, the subsequent Scottish Parliament inquiry would instead focus on whether senior officials had improperly released the information after Salmond pointed the finger at the first minister’s office for leaking it.
The Scottish Government replied at 7.19pm with a short and puzzling statement saying they couldn’t “currently” comment on the situation for “legal reasons”.
The police response was even more unusual. It said the force “would not comment on whether” they were investigating.
The responses were significant for two reasons: they effectively confirmed the existence of some kind of complaint against Salmond, but they also suggested the former first minister was locked in a legal dispute with the Scottish Government over the issue.
A scenario that would have seemed impossible only that morning began to emerge. Could Alex Salmond really be at war
with the government led by his protegee Nicola Sturgeon?
The race was now on to verify the accuracy of the information independently so we could publish regardless of onthe-record confirmation. All the journalists involved were acutely aware that the slightest inaccuracy in any subsequent story could have disastrous consequences.
I began methodically recontacting sources who had been useful in recent months in the hope they could provide further corroboration. Tellingly, I found I was unable to get any senior Scottish Government special adviser to answer their phone.
Meanwhile, Mansi worked his extensive police contacts. It was not until 8pm that we had enough confidence in our information to contact Salmond directly to give him the opportunity to present his version of events.
I was in my small home office when I dialled his mobile number and heard that distinctive voice click on to the line.
I had last seen the former first minister the previous year when I took him for a long lunch in Glasgow two weeks after he lost his Westminster seat. His tone was much colder on this occasion.
“Yes, David, what can I do for you?” he asked.
My heart was pounding as I replied: “We’re doing a story on the allegation the police are looking at. Should I be speaking to a lawyer, or is there a comment I should take from you?”
There was a long pause. “And which allegation is this, David?”
“The one from December 2013 at Bute House.”
“And what’s the detail of it, sorry, David?”
“That a staff member at Bute House was harassed or assaulted after a function.”
In the terse threeminute conversation that followed, Salmond avoided being drawn on the substance of the complaints and focused on fishing for more information on the status of the police investigation and inquiring into who was the source of the story.
He also asked for the allegations to be put to him in writing, a request I duly obliged.
With the Record’s print deadline looming, an urgent conference call was convened to discuss whether to publish in the event of no substantive response to the details of the allegations being received from the Scottish Government, Police Scotland or the former first minister.
This was a big call for the new editor David Dick, who had only been in the post a few months and was now dealing with the biggest story any Scottish newspaper had tackled in living memory.
After a brief discussion, he decided he was happy for us to proceed and I began writing.
Then, at 9.32pm, an emailed response from Salmond’s lawyer, David Mckie of Levy & Mcrae, dropped into my inbox.
Its contents were breathtaking. He did not dispute the existence of the allegations or even make a threat of defamation action.
Instead, he warned that publication would be a breach of privacy and cited the recent highprofile finding against the BBC regarding coverage of the police investigation into pop legend Sir Cliff Richard.
An accompanying statement from Salmond confirmed he was taking the Scottish Government to court over their handling of sexual harassment complaints.
The former first minister also insisted he was completely innocent of any wrongdoing and would fight to clear his name. He was subsequently acquitted of all charges in a March 2020 court case.
In an attempt to spoil the Record story shortly before publication, the statement was also distributed to a bewildered Scottish press pack at 10pm.
It was an implicit acknowledgement that the striking headline about to roll off the Record’s printing presses on the south side of Glasgow was accurate: Salmond Reported to Cops over Sex Attack Claims.
The shocking sexual misconduct allegations against Alex Salmond were finally out in the open, but the fallout was only just beginning.
Adapted from Break-up: How
Alex Salmond And Nicola Sturgeon Went To War by David Clegg and Kieran Andrews. The book is available in hardback for £15 or an ebook for £9.99 at https://www. bitebackpublishing. com/books/break-up