Alex has a laugh with straight man Kenny as tensions are also released

Published on Tuesday 1 September 2009 22:07

IF COMEDY equals tragedy plus time, then Alex Salmond believes 12 days to be a suitable delay before making quips about the release of the Lockerbie bomber.

A few minutes into the SNP's final gig on its summer tour, otherwise known as "Choosing Scotland's Future: A National Conversation" at the Molendinar Community Centre in Glasgow's Royston Road, the First Minister could not resist playing to the gallery.

Unfortunately, there wasn't an actual gallery, which might have allowed us to see the assembled cabinet in all their scrubbed-up glory. As it was the stage was about a foot tall, which meant, when seated, the public could see only the tip of John Swinney's gleaming pate. They would have had to stand to see Kenny MacAskill, which they might have done, and cheered too, so popular was his decision to release the Lockerbie bomber, at least with this assembled crowd.

To begin, each minister explained how they had spent their morning. When the justice secretary said he had visited a police station, the First Minister asked to a warm chuckle: "You didn't release anybody from that police station?" Lest he be mistaken for a collaborator in such jest, Mr MacAskill answered: "No, I was leaving that to the police staff."

Hardly the Marx Brothers, but it illustrated a comfort level with how the Scots public has greeted the decision. Similarly, towards the end of the discussion, Mr Salmond – in reference to the Scottish Organised Crime Task Force – said: "They are our Scottish FBI, which is just as well because the American FBI are not very happy with (Mr MacAskill] just now."

While the Scottish Government's summer tour lacked a programme, each attendee received a blue folder with little booklets on each cabinet position. Justice was tucked right at the back, but when the discussion moved it to the front, the support was overwhelming. Before the first question had even been completed there was a spontaneous round of applause. Mike Russell, the MC, corralled the questions into groups of three or four, allowing Mr MacAskill, once again, to swerve neatly around the awkward ones, such as: "Why was Megrahi convicted if he wasn't even in Malta?" and "Why did you meet personally with Megrahi when you won't meet with me over a miscarriage of justice?"

After two detailed public statements and umpteen television interviews, the justice secretary has marshalled his arguments into a compelling package of soundbites. But this time he slipped in a little dig at his American critics: "Other jurisdictions believe in the right to bear arms, while we want to ban air guns." He ended by adding: "I allowed him to go home to die with some dignity." That triggered another round of applause.

Nicola Sturgeon was quizzed on how students could best prepare for a career in the NHS; John Swinney, the finance secretary, on how a new small construction firm, without a track record, could secure a government contract. The personal, as is always the case, became the most important.

It was admirable to see Mr Swinney promise to give out his personal e-mail address to the builder to ensure he received the best advice or Mr Salmond placate one woman driven to despair at workplace bullying.

"I see you've a folder and no doubt been from pillar to post. Let's talk over a cup of tea and see if we can't sort it out."

Will it be sorted out? Who knows, but there was certainly a palpable sense of appreciation and a narrowing of the gap between public and politician.

The irony was that despite Mr Salmond's eloquent introduction, the National Conversation about future independence was barely raised by the public. Although one speaker did ask if in the event of losing a referendum the SNP would pack it in. The answer, funnily enough, was no.