A Hallowe’en Night of the Living Dead? Or just the revenge of Chairman Miaow...
IT’S Perth. It’s Saturday. And, with the unerring gift of Scottish Labour – or what is left of it – they’ve scheduled their big television moment for Hallowe’en; as untold ex-MPs and former MSPs and former future First Ministers shamble to their pews like the Night of the Living Dead.
Most, appropriately, are in black and red. Kezia Dugdale, taking to the stage amidst cadaverous cheers, has gone one better in a square-necked black shift. The tiny paste-ruby poppy-brooch on the breast does its best, but that general Mrs Danvers look she has going on does nothing for her.
‘As a party,’ she sighs, head compassionately tilted, as if your dog has just died, ‘we face huge challenges – of course we do; to stand up for ordinary working families. We failed to do that at the general election and everyone paid a painful price.’
Well, except Ian Murray, last Scottish Labour MP walking, or at least surviving, and now Shadow Scottish Secretary for want of anyone else.
‘I see not just the problems we want to fix but the good things that can be made even better,’ Dugdale coos. ‘The future is coming. That isn’t in any doubt.’
The comrades receive this devastating insight politely.
‘Borders no longer keep problems far beyond the mountains,’ lisps our Kezia, who really has had a rummage through the cliché chest, ‘across the river, on the other side of the sea. We look to the responsibilities of the future, not the problems of the past. It is why we remain a party not of nationalism, but of internationalism. The whole purpose of politics for me is to open up opportunities.’
On that none can fault her. In Scottish Labour’s sustained mission of job creation she is its eighth leader in 15 years.
‘I get frustrated,’ she laments, ‘when we see a woman First Minister and people say it shows a woman can do anything if she works hard. Conference, don’t you feel women work hard enough now?’
There is a general sympathetic shiver. Bats flitter through aisles where the public used to be.
‘When the Scotland Bill returns again next week,’ she intones, ‘Ian Murray will push again for gender-balance in the Scottish parliament and on public boards.’
OUR necks – at least those without bolts through them – swivel briefly in Murray’s direction. The Honourable Member for Morningside Soviet looks surprised, but pleased. ‘We don’t just need more women,’ she bangs on, ‘but more feminists in public life.’ There is muffled cheering, especially from ladies in trackie bottoms and butch haircuts.
Kezia hits the big emotive buttons, committing gaily to all sorts of expensive goodies decreed by power she will never have.
‘If there is a silver bullet to slay the monsters of poverty and inequality,’ she chirps, ‘it is education. I say to the SNP, I will judge you above all on your record on education.’
What, standing atop a tank directing show trials on the Royal Mile?
‘Every child who leaves school unable to read properly – on your watch, First Minister – well,’ storms Chairman Miaow, ‘that record disgraces our country and disgraces your administration.’
They writhe listlessly in the cheap seats. ‘It’s easy to rail against austerity, to pose as a socialist when no one ever asks you how you will pay for the fairer future you claim to believe in. The political posturing has to end with the new powerful Scottish parliament and the power for change. A fairer Scotland isn’t one where everyone pays more tax. In fact, we want hundreds of thousands of working Scots to pay less tax.’
There are sad, wistful, death-rattles of approval.
Then wands are flashed: tax credits restored; the prosperous soaked; Dugdale magically forming the next Holyrood administration…
‘Friends, we are changing,’ cries La Dugdale. ‘People will take a fresh look at us. Let’s make the changes and let’s walk with confidence into the future.’
Well, lurch anyway.