Lumpen lord gives new meaning to the word democracy

WATSON n. 1. a trimmer 2. a destroyer of inconvenient democratic safeguards 3. bogus crusader who deserts his cause for personal advantage 4. one who tries to have his cake and eat it 5. any political self-server or busted flush (colloq.)

The lexicon of devolution has a significant new entry. The Right Honourable (sic) the Lord Watson of Invergowrie has now extended the boundaries of governmental unaccountability to new horizons. Almost single-handedly, he has abolished the doctrine of collective Cabinet responsibility, a fundamental tenet of our constitution since the premiership of Pitt the Younger in 1783, observed by every developed democracy in the world. Yet another Scottish solution to a Scottish problem.

One has to say almost single-handedly because this latest erosion of accountability could not have been accomplished without the aid and comfort of Jack McFondle, the wide-boy Provost of Holyrood. Uniquely among governmental leaders in all the world, Jack the Zipper professed himself "pleased" that one of his ministers was denouncing Scottish Executive policy from the rooftops.

Watson, as MSP for Glasgow Cathcart, has campaigned strongly against the plans for local hospital rationalisation being proposed by his Cabinet colleague Malcolm Chisholm, the Health Minister. It is the decision to remove accident and emergency services from the Victoria Infirmary, within his constituency, that Watson most vociferously opposes.

That is an important issue; but the rights and wrongs of that local debate are completely separate from the much larger question of Watson’s breach of collective responsibility among Cabinet ministers, which has enormous implications for the governance of Scotland.

It is now two weeks since Malcolm Chisholm "signed-off" (in the governmental argot) the Glasgow hospitals plan, finally making it Scottish Executive policy, set in stone. Yet, last Tuesday - some 10 days after the referee’s whistle had blown - Watson co-chaired a public meeting in Glasgow, protesting against that policy, which had been formally adopted by the Scottish Cabinet of which he is a member. What kind of anarchy is that?

The fact is, Lord Watson has flagrantly offended against all the most sacred writ of the devolution settlement. The Executive’s ministerial code of conduct declares, in section 2.2: "The Executive operates on the basis of collective responsibility... Decisions reached by the Executive are binding on all its members." The following section states that collective responsibility requires "maintaining a united front when decisions have been reached".

In section 6.7, the code decrees: "Once a decision has been announced, it should be accepted without question or criticism." How can a minister remain in office when he is so blatantly in breach of the Cabinet’s code of conduct? What kind of Mickey Mouse government allows him to do so?

Nor is Watson only in breach of the ministerial code: he is in total defiance of the Scotland Act, which is the present Parcel o’ Rogues’ sole title deed to the misrule of our country. Section 52 of the Scotland Act defines the collective nature of the Executive in emphatic terms. "Any act or omission of, or in relation to, any member of the Scottish Executive shall be treated as an act or omission of, or in relation to, each of them..." (52.4) How does that principle operate in relation to Mike Watson and Malcolm Chisholm?

When it comes to destroying democracy, Watson already has form. After the Rural Affairs Committee threw out his dog’s breakfast of an anti-hunting Bill, it was promptly forced back on to the agenda by the lumpen parliamentariat on the back benches. So ended the pretence that an all-powerful committee system would act as an adequate substitute for a revising chamber.

Those are Watson’s battle honours: within two years he has destroyed any vestige of a revising power in the Scottish parliament and has abolished the principle of collective responsibility within the Cabinet. The consistent theme is the banishing of accountability from the governance of Scotland.

That is the significance of last week’s events. Once again, the devolved government whose raison d’tre was supposed to be accountability has further divested itself of democratic control, while venal politicians and complicit media hacks pretend it is of no more importance than Black Rod’s wig-bag.

As for our parochial, so-called First Minister, the notion that both the foundation statute of devolution and the ministerial code of conduct can be suspended in favour of a crony who accompanies him to football matches betrays his crudely municipal mindset. The immunity enjoyed by Watson has only one precedent: the similar cronyism that indulged Sam Galbraith after he had presided over educational meltdown. Watson is Son of Sam.

His message to his constituents is: "Follow me on to the barricades in defence of local hospital services; but you must excuse me on September 12 - I have to be in parliament to vote for the closure of the accident and emergency unit at the Victoria Infirmary. If I don’t, I’ll lose my salary and all my perks." His impersonation of Janus may be more bitterly perceived locally as imitating Judas.

What further highlights the squalid conduct of Watson is the fact that his opponent on this issue is Malcolm Chisholm, who once resigned the local government and housing brief, in disagreement with reduced benefits for single mothers.

The bottom line in all this is: devolution stinks. Where is Canon Kenyon Wright now? Where are all the self-regarding commentators who brainwashed a nation into voting for the Mafia? This is their work: they dug a sewer and they called it Holyrood.