The title of the post is from one of Robert Burn's best known poems, 'To a Mouse'. In the aftermath of the Scottish Election debacle, Radio Scotland, Radio Clyde and other local stations had all kinds of informed pundits, public commentators, academics as political apologists, apologies for politicians but few apologies from politicians, all giving there take on what went wrong. With a court case threatened about one seat where a majority of 48 is a figure only 1/20th of the number of spoilt votes, the scale of the scandal is put into some perspective. And yes, whatever went so badly wrong - was someone's responsibility, and needs sorted. The number of spoilt votes now exceeds the combined turnout for three constituencies!
But my day was made by one of the presiding officers, responding to email and phone-in suggestions that if people filled the voting forms in wrong it was because they were stupid. Not trying to hide her serious no' pleasedness, she put aside the protocols of public discourse and suggested such people got right up her nose, made her blood boil and should be neither seen nor heard, and she'd like to have a (private and probably unrepeatable) word with them. After which she resumed her public persona and said. 'People aren't stupid. It was a new system. They simply made a mistake. And that can happen to anyone.'
Later, when the debate between stupid or mistake was taken out onto the streets, we got the definitive answer from someone whose career path, probably to our considerable loss, didn't take him into politics. Asked whether he felt stupid, or had just made a mistake, one of the public declared with considered solemnity and self deference;
'Naw. Ah juist made a mistake. (Momentary pause.....) It wis a stupid mistake, but!'
I love the wisdom, and forbearance of the Scottish public - and the creative use of grammar by putting a conjunction at the end of a sentence for emphasis. Guid rhetorical strategy, is it no' juist? And I admire the ability of Scottish folk to spot patronising questions coming at them like a Henman passing shot, and returning them with the ego-deflating sharpness of an Andy Murray cross-court volley. Unfortunately as the answer above was delivered, the limitations of radio became obvious - it was unable to capture the millimetre or two movement of one eyelid. Guid on ye, pal!
But a country whose folk are hungry for change, with a history of political engagement and enlightened inventiveness, conscious of the opportunities that our own Parliament makes possible, - deserves better than the standards of political discourse and leadership so far shown. And for the next five years of Scottish Government to be reduced to horse-trading about who and which party's interests can be preserved, is not only embarrassing, it is to reduce the expressed political will of the Scottish people to personal and party political ambition.
I think the message of the Scottish voters is neither fudged nor surprising. The message is - on track records so far, no one party is to be trusted with our future - maybe a hung Parliament with all its frustrations, is still an effective corrective to party interest, personal ambition, and narrow non negotiable agendas.
Going back to the man in the street quoted earlier, one of Burns' most potent political poems, celebrates him and his answer. And the third verse of 'A man's a man for a' that' should give the Holyrood power mongers serious food for thought - and who knows even repentance!
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that:
The man o' independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that.
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