POLITICS
The strange universe of the Glasgow Labour party
BRUCE ANDERSON
This month, the Glorious Twelfth; next month, the portentous Eleventh. On 11 September, in a referendum, the Scottish electorate will vote in favour of a Parlia- ment in Edinburgh, and they will almost certainly ask for it to be endowed with tax- raising powers.
There are two extraordinary aspects to all this. The first is that devolution could have profound consequences. The abolition of the Scottish Parliament in 1707 helped to shape three centuries of British history; its restoration could have an equally impor- tant influence over the next three centuries. It could even ensure that British history comes to an end. Yet hardly anyone is try- ing to think all this through.
The second is the startling absence of Scottish public enthusiasm for the prospect of a new Parliament; there is no joyous expectation of a nation once again. A few years ago, while firmly rejecting the refer- endum which his successor conceded, John Smith spoke about `the settled will of the Scottish people'. Today, it is more a matter of settled apathy. Everyone takes for grant- ed that it is going to happen; no one can get worked up about it — except Tam Dalyell.
From New Labour's point of view, the referendum campaign was going perfectly. They had the votes, both in Westminster and at the ballot-box, so what was the point in intellectual arguments? Not only that, most of the opponents of devolution are Tories, many of whom are still deeply demoralised as a result of their parliamen- tary extinction on 1 May. Once Labour had won on such a scale, devolution seemed inevitable; most people see little point in resisting the inevitable.
Not Mr Dalyell. He has never believed in working out the odds; he invariably sticks to his principles and damns the conse- quences. His forebear, `bluidy Tam' Dalyell, first raised the Scots Greys in order to help put down the Covenanters. The cur- rent Tam may be an Old Etonian and a baronet (he does not use the title) but he is as relentless as his ancestor was — and over the decades, the Labour Whips' Office has dignified him with much ruder epithets than bluidy. His political career has been a long succession of battles, fought on his side with an equal mixture of courtesy and obsession. But he may at last be overmastered; he has now taken on an opponent as obsessive as himself, though not as courteous. A few days ago, Peter Mandelson assert- ed that devolution would strengthen Scot- land within the Union, so Tam Dalyell asked him to explain how. Tam does not seem to have grasped the concept of sound- bites; they are not there to be explained. Mr Mandelson did not reply to the enquiry; it is hardly surprising that he should decline to enter into the briar patch of an argument with Tam Dalyell on devolution. Then Mr Dalyell, unanswered, dismissed Mr Man- delson's comments as 'silly'. This enraged the New Labourites in Mr Dalyell's con- stituency, who may deselect him. Tam Dalyell deselected for arguing with Peter Mandelson: behold New Labour in all its moral grandeur.
Messrs Blair and Mandelson will expe- dite devolution, but their enthusiasm for the subject is hardly greater than the Scot- tish peoples'. Indeed, there is little about Scotland that does arouse New Labour's enthusiasm. Yet that is paradoxical. Without Scotland, New Labour would not exist in its current form, for the Labour party itself would not have survived the 1980s.
In two crucial respects, the Scottish Labour party saved the English Labour party from its own folly. Stalinist rather than Trotskyite, and therefore largely immune to Bennery, it provided some of the foot-soldiers for Labour's slow march back to sanity. It also provided much of the higher command; the present Labour gov- ernment could not exist without its Scottish contingent. The Scottish Labour party has always been a coalition between Glasgow trade unionists and Edinburgh lawyers, but these days, there is less and less mutual sympathy between the two groups. The Edinburgh lawyers are increasingly identi- fying with English New Labour's distaste for Glaswegian politics, as their response to the McMaster affair demonstrates.
Gordon McMaster's death was an acci- dent, not a conspiracy. The Glasgow Labour party has always been full of obscure characters with glottal-stopped brains who enjoy themselves in the Com- mons; they sit in the bars until called upon to vote, after which they return to the bars. Mr McMaster seemed to be another such, but not so. He was not as other Glaswe- gians were. He may or may not have been a homosexual, but he was a sensitive man.
That was an error on his part. People from his background are ill-advised to be sensitive; they will receive little understand- ing from their fellows. Tommy Graham and Don Dixon, who have been blamed for hounding Mr McMaster, are not evil men, but if they had not gone into politics, nei- ther of them would have chosen coun- selling as a profession. Mr Dixon, who was a very good Labour Deputy Chief Whip, did have his own counselling technique: it was administered by a boot, to a backside. He no doubt tried something similar with Gordon McMaster, but it did not work.
Poor Mr McMaster's tragedy is easy to explain. His personality was more compli- cated and his liver less robust than those of of his associates. Most of those who could understand a word that he said could not get within four letters of spelling 'psychiatry'.
The inquiries into Mr McMaster's death will continue, and at some stage his sad and bitter suicide note will be published. All this will lead to a light being thrown on a world which is in a different universe from Geoffrey Robinson's Tuscan villa. For decades, the Glasgow Labour party has been one of the most corrupt political organisations north of Naples, and now the links between Labour politics and the funds disbursed by both local and central govern- ment will be under scrutiny. Over the past few years, £10 million is supposed to have been spent on improvements to the notori- ous Ferguslie housing estate, but it is not clear what has been improved. Ferguslie resi- dents' quality of life has certainly not been enhanced — but someone's quality of life will have been. The police and the press may now try to find out whose, a prospect which is dismaying to Labour's Edinburgh lawyers.
There are worse allegations than embez- zlement. A Labour MP — Irene Adams, who befriended Mr McMaster — has alleged that local Labour politicians are involved in drug dealing. The ramifications of all this go far wider than the suicide of one unhappy man. Whether or not Mr McMaster had Aids, as has been suggested, much of the Glasgow Labour party does have the moral equivalent.
As Messrs Blair and Mandelson are forced to turn their attention to the affairs of Glasgow Labour, they will realise that they have less in common with many of their notional supporters in Strathclyde than they do with almost anyone else in British politics.
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