ANALYSIS

The Sunday Post (Newcastle) - - POLITICS -

“DO you like jam, An­drew?” As clos­ing salvos in po­lit­i­cal in­ter­views go, this was not Frost ver­sus Nixon. But then Jeremy Cor­byn is a po­lite man and po­lite men of­fer grumpy news­pa­per re­porters jars of jam by way of apol­ogy for run­ning 50 min­utes late. It was an un­con­ven­tional end to an un­con­ven­tional in­ter­view. Packed into a win­dow­less, stuffy room at Scot­tish Labour’s Glas­gow HQ I felt like a can­di­date called in for de­s­e­lec­tion af­ter fail­ing my so­cial jus­tice ex­ams. But Cor­byn and his com­rades could not have been more pleas­ant and, cru­cially, re­laxed.

Hav­ing weath­ered the big­gest of po­lit­i­cal storms last year, when Labour’s op­po­nents had to jos­tle with the party’s sup­port­ers in the queue to have a pop at Cor­byn, it is no sur­prise.

A bet­ter re­sult than any­one pre­dicted at the Gen­eral Elec­tion means he is go­ing nowhere. Ex­pect to see more of him in Scot­land.

And the jam? It was Ar­broath’s finest, Mack­ays, not Cor­byn’s home­made spe­cial­ity. The Labour leader ad­mit­ted he was given it that morn­ing. It be­came his at­tempt to keep me sweet.

Kezia Dug­dale.

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