Alex Salmond 'used sacked Fiona Hyslop as scapegoat and misled Holyrood'

• Alex Salmond addresses the Scottish Parliament yesterday with new education secretary Mike Russell to his left and Fiona Hyslop on the back-benches. Picture: Ian Rutherford

The First Minister's opponents said he had hung Ms Hyslop out to dry to cover his own failings, at the end of a dramatic day at Holyrood that saw them question his conduct and renew their attack on the SNP's education record.

Mr Salmond was dragged to the centre of the education crisis this week after he bowed to political pressure and sacked Ms Hyslop, replacing her with Michael Russell.

His problems intensified when the education system was dealt a further blow yesterday, with a study revealing that nearly one million Scots have problems with reading and writing and 18.5 per cent of Scottish children leave primary school without being functionally literate.

The first signs of more trouble for Mr Salmond emerged at First Minister's Questions yesterday when Labour leader Iain Gray accused him of misleading parliament.

Mr Gray pointed to a statement the First Minister made on 5 September, 2007, when he said the SNP's policy to reduce class sizes to 18 for primaries one, two and three would be delivered by the end of the parliament.

Mr Gray then produced a minute of a meeting, dated two months before, on 2 July, 2007, which showed that a civil servant had advised "ministers" that the class size pledge could not be met in that time. The document revealed that the civil servant had warned that the policy would take between eight and ten years to achieve.

Mr Gray claimed Mr Salmond's statement two months later misled parliament, because he was making a promise that he knew he could not keep. Labour also claimed that he had breached the clause in the ministerial code that said ministers must give "accurate and truthful" information to the parliament.

Mr Salmond's spokesman said Ms Hyslop had not passed on the civil servant's advice to the First Minister, a remark that was greeted with derision by the opposition.

"Alex Salmond has already sacked Fiona Hyslop this week and now he has stuck the knife into her to save his own skin," Mr Gray said.

"It is just not credible that official advice on a central government policy would not be copied in to the First Minister. This is no longer about whether Fiona Hyslop was up to the job but whether Alex Salmond is."

Murdo Fraser, the Conservative deputy leader, said: "If true, this is an astonishing state of affairs and no way to run a country.

"Many will find it inconceivable that Alex Salmond was unaware his own senior education advisers had made it crystal clear the SNP's flagship class size pledge could not be delivered in the lifetime of this parliament."

The First Minister's spokesman pointed out that ministers did not have to take civil service advice.

The spokesman also said that Mr Salmond had believed that the class sizes promise could be kept when he made his statement to parliament, because the Scottish Government was negotiating its concordat with councils.

At the time, Mr Salmond thought the concordat agreement would give councils and the government the means of delivering the policy.

"The information (from officials] in July 2007 was to the Cabinet secretary for education, not to the First Minister," Mr Salmond's spokesman said.

Ms Hyslop's successor, Mike Russell, yesterday lost his first debate on education. Mr Russell was defeated after telling his critics to stop making "a crisis out of a problem".

He said Standard Grade passes were at their highest rate since 2002. "That's not a crisis," he said.

Sketch: It was a bit of a horror story for The Alex Family

IT WAS like something out of The Addams Family. There was Alex Salmond, tub-thumping away in his usual First Minister's Questions manner, when sneaking out from behind the podium came his hand. First it hovered around his waist before slowly raising itself, clenching its fist and, as if it had a mind of its own, indulging in a furious spate of finger-jabbing. All that was missing was Morticia.

Not that Fiona Hyslop didn't turn up. Instead, the recently sacked education secretary sat mutely behind the First Minister, a good spot perhaps in which to dream up all the ways in which she might stab her colleague (back) in the back. Others were not so quiet. Labour leader Iain Gray, clearly relishing the occasion, metamorphosed into Hyslop's greatest fan, accusing Salmond of sacking her to "save his own skin" and even going so far as to pity her.

"How must Fiona Hyslop have felt sitting there, tied to a promise they both knew they could not keep?" he asked calmly. "Sitting there for two long years – taking the flak for Alex Salmond? And in the end, sacrificed to save his neck. Will Alex Salmond admit Fiona Hyslop was just the scapegoat, Alex Salmond is the guilty man?"

No, Salmond would not admit that, but he would get cross about it. Very cross. Hellfire-and-brimstone cross. His voice, angry and hectoring, boomed across the chamber, while the hand gesticulated, claw-like.

"If Iain Gray is not concerned with personality and process, why is it that Labour members have called for the resignation of every member of this administration – with the sole exception of me?" he demanded, his voice so loud that small bats in Falkirk covered their ears.

Well, it's a point. Still, the hand was having none of it. At one point, he held it behind his back and under his jacket, where it looked as though it might be attending to an itch. But before long, it was back, its gesticulations so wild they ought to have had their own weather system. Lord George Foulkes's supposed slip of the tongue earlier in the week – when he "mistakenly" referred to Salmond as "Il Duce" – has obviously rankled.

Of course, there have been mutterings for a couple of weeks now that rogue hands are not the only thing Salmond has been struggling to control. There was the dismal SNP result in the Glasgow by-election, the lukewarm reception to the referendum white paper and, of course, Hyslop's sacking. They might be creepy and kooky, mysterious and spooky, but all is not well in the SNP Family.

Perhaps this is why Salmond seems to be keeping his hackles at Def Con 3. Most Scots already know that Salmond can be a bit of a bruiser, that he's arrogant and noisy and more than a little shouty, but lately something's changed. There is less charm. Less jocularity. Less palms-out, listen-guys-I-know-I'm-right-but-I'll-humour-you-for-five-minutes-anyway-because-that's-the-sort-of-swell-First-Minister-I-am openness. Standing there at the podium yesterday, he seemed more like an angry, foot-stamping toddler who's had his sweeties swiped and won't stop banging on about it.

It must have made for confusing viewing in the public gallery where, above it all, peering down upon them in silent bemusement, sat rows upon rows of schoolchildren, visiting the parliament on a class day-out. For them, watching their educational future being batted around the chamber like an old, chewed tennis ball must have seemed more like an episode of The Munsters.

Emma Cowing