Ewan Crawford: Shouting does not mean people will listen to you

IT SEEMS hard to imagine, I know, but if ever a film was made of the life of outgoing Scottish Labour leader Iain Gray, perhaps Hollywood A-lister Sean Penn might play the part.

In an Oscar-winning performance, Penn portrayed San Francisco gay rights activist Harvey Milk.

In a famous scene from the movie, Penn addressed a crowd incensed at a scandalous piece of homophobic legislation. “I know you’re angry – I’m angry,” shouted Penn.

That quote just about sums up Gray’s valedictory speech to the Labour conference last weekend. The difference, however, is that Penn’s character had every reason to be incensed.

But as far as Gray is concerned, Labour, too, has been the victim of an outrage. They had knocked on an awful of doors and promised to create 250,000 jobs but still the voters had, unaccountably, plumped for the SNP.

Indeed, the behaviour of the SNP, according to Gray, made the Nationalists’ victory all the more baffling. He painted a truly terrifying picture of Scotland’s government and First Minister, who – and I am not making this up, as Theresa May might say – had created an ugly Orwellian regime, with a Scottish inquisition awaiting those who dare to dissent.

If George Bush were still US president, no doubt Gray would be pushing for Salmond’s SNP-led administration to take its place in the axis of evil.

With a stunning lack of self-awareness, the East Lothian MSP then went on to lambast the language of certain online commentators who, he said, have poisoned Scottish political discourse. In line with much mainstream political discussion of the internet, the activities of so-called “cybernats” now seem to constitute a full-blown moral panic.

Offensive comments on the web have probably existed for as long as the internet itself. Sadly, online forums seem to attract aggressive contributions, bolstered presumably by the apparent safety of anonymity. However, it is the tone of the mainstream debate that should be of much more concern.

When the rules and procedures of the Scottish Parliament were being drawn up, the then Labour Scottish Office minister, Henry McLeish, believed devolution would herald a “new sort of democracy”. In making this claim, McLeish seemed to envisage something akin to what political scientists call deliberative democracy in which decisions are taken after rational, inclusive debate to assess the worth of differing policy proposals. Perhaps tellingly, McLeish has been one of the more thoughtful opponents of independence, criticising the SNP but offering reasoned alternatives, particularly on the constitution.

There is clearly a debate to be had on whether independence or giving the Scottish Parliament full tax-raising powers or even the status quo is the best way forward. Indeed, the SNP has set out the options in government documents. But the response from most of the party’s opponents is to suggest that any multi-option referendum is simply not worth discussing, indeed, that it is an attempt by the SNP to somehow rig the outcome.

Instead, in the spirit of fair-mindedness, the main Westminster parties have announced inquiries are to be held into a referendum on “separation for Scotland” and a further one to look at various issues that need to be clarified, such as the “costs of separation”.

These inquires are to be presided over by a chairman who has branded the SNP “neo-fascists” and who is the subject of a complaint over his behaviour towards a female nationalist MP.

It was similarly revealing that after the SNP’s victory in May, concern was expressed about the impact of the party’s overall majority. Who was going to keep the Nationalists in check? Such concern is rarely expressed whenever, as is usually the case, Labour or the Tories achieve a majority at Westminster. It was as if the SNP couldn’t be trusted to exercise the powers of government in a reasonable way.

In fact, the SNP’s approach has been based on reason. The party has adopted a big tent approach, reaching out both in terms of its language and on the issues it has taken up in an attempt to build as wide a coalition as possible. It is the SNP that likes to talk about social union, co-operation and shared sovereignty. Its opponents prefer the language of separation, divorce and the alarming business of ripping things asunder.

In part, the Nationalists’ relentlessly positive focus is based on tough lessons and hard electoral facts. In 2003, I was part of a failed SNP campaign that targeted the then first minister Jack McConnell in a personal way, albeit I hope with some humour.

Since then, the SNP has realised that in Scottish elections a positive approach will usually trump a negative one.

Moreover, for a party that does not rely on support from one section of the electorate, inclusive campaigning is just going to be more effective.

By contrast as far as its opponents are concerned, a pitched-battle probably makes some sort of sense. Although it is still early days to discern the strategy to be adopted by a potential “no” campaign, it seems clear the usual horror story about the chaotic consequences of independence will feature heavily. For this to succeed, polarising extreme language will come in handy. That is why it is essential for the SNP to maintain its successful upbeat, inclusive approach.

But I doubt it is strategy that is driving the hostility towards the SNP and Alex Salmond in particular. It is probably more of a manifestation of the bewilderment still felt in the aftermath of the election result. One optimistic feature of that election was the good grace shown, in the main, by both victorious and defeated SNP and Labour candidates.

It shouldn’t be too much to ask that courtesy be shown as we approach the most significant event in Scotland’s modern history. So please, no more talk of Orwell and inquisitions.