Independence champion leaves behind fragmented political legacy

On September 19, 2014, Edinburgh woke up to a layer of mist soaking the stones of the Old Town.

The noise of the independence referendum campaign that has echoed in Scotland for three years has died down, and Alex Salmond – often the embodiment of combative self-confidence – looks pale and tired.

Overnight it has become clear that Britain has voted decisively, albeit not overwhelmingly, to remain in the 307-year union with England.

Soon we were packed into the living room of Bute House, the First Minister’s official residence, to watch Salmond announce his resignation as leader of the devolved governments since 2007 and as leader of the Scottish National Party, which he has long dominated. long.

Salmond was clear that he accepted the people’s democratic verdict, but there was a hint of frustration in his attitude and a hint of defiance in his words.

“For me, my time as leader is coming to an end, but for Scotland the campaign continues and the dream will never die,” he said.

Earlier, he had a similar message to grief-stricken supporters, telling them: “Let us not dwell on the distance we have not yet traveled. Let us dwell on the distance we have traveled.”

There is indeed a distance.

Although Salmond joined the SNP during a period of relative success in the 1970s, the party and the independence movement remained a shadow under his leadership from 1990 to 2000, and even from 2004 to 2014.

Salmond modernized and professionalized the SNP, ensuring its machinery was overhauled and its message refined until it shone like granite in the sun.

He relished the intense conflict and intrigue of Westminster politics, and he was able to engage rhetorically with the best of them.

Salmond’s interviews, speeches and his contributions to the House of Commons and Scottish Parliament are full of shrewd and highly quotable little nuggets – politics boiled down to what they are.

These nuggets are often accompanied by historical references, poetic flourishes, or both.

During the referendum campaign, he began quoting Fletcher of Salton, noting approvingly that the Scottish nobleman had openly opposed the 1707 union with England.

It sounds like he hopes his name will soon appear in the same history books.

At the time, it didn’t seem like an entirely fanciful hope for the boy from Linlithgow, who has grown into a strategically astute master of sound bites and turning defense into offense.

His usual response to thorny questions about the economic challenges an independent Scotland might face is to scoff, “Of course” independence won’t result in three taps in every home – one for oil, one for whiskey and one for in whiskey water.

It’s pure deflection, deftly deployed, inviting the listener to smile with him rather than think about the problem, while also somehow conveying the vague impression that perhaps one’s home can indeed have all that’s in an independent Scotland These three faucets.

Some voters view this approach as arrogant, dishonest and even smug. But many others were pleased that he was able to address pesky journalists, especially those from the “South” who ostensibly expressed support for the union.

Just last month, Salmond was presenting on BBC Radio 4’s Any Questions? He pointed out that Labour, the SNP and the Conservatives had all blamed each other for the unpopular withdrawal of benefits for some pensioners, before pausing and delivering his bon mot amid laughter: “I agree with them all. human perspective.

He could still become a thorn in the side of unionist rivals and former nationalist allies.

Of course, he wasn’t always a strategic genius.

Under Salmond, the pro-independence Alba Party had little electoral success.

His judgment on international affairs may be questionable. In 1999, he dismissed NATO’s military operations in Yugoslavia as “inexcusable folly” and was widely criticized.

The then foreign secretary, Robin Cook, accused him of “not seeing the clear distinction between a democracy’s determination to defend itself against a dictatorship and a dictatorship engaging in ethnic cleansing”.

More than two decades later, Nicola Sturgeon, Salmond’s protégé and successor as first minister, claimed she was dissatisfied with the role of Salmond in hosting a talk show on the Kremlin-backed broadcaster RT. The decision was “shocked”.

There are other flaws that some people choose to ignore as inconvenient and others as inconsequential.

His trial on sexual assault charges revealed that his behavior towards women was sometimes inappropriate.

He was acquitted by a jury of his peers at the High Court in Edinburgh. He went to his grave with no criminal record.

But he admitted his behavior in the office was shocking – pouring drinks for young female staff in the bedroom of the First Minister’s residence late at night and on at least one occasion apologizing for the way he touched them.

He described such encounters as “sleepy hugs,” drawing particular scorn from critics.

Even his lawyer did not try to fully excuse his behavior, saying Salmond “could certainly be a better person”.

Not only did he escape the courts, he also won a civil case against the Scottish Government over its handling of complaints against him, insisting until the end that someone within the SNP was conspiring against him. The whole incident may have further repercussions.

Considering Alex Salmond’s career from a purely political perspective, perhaps his most important call was to support the SNP’s Scottish Parliament campaign as a stepping stone on the road to independence, standing in line with what the party calls progressive ists, as opposed to those called fundamentalists who consider devolution a pastime.

Whether this decision ultimately fulfills Salmond’s dream remains to be judged by historians.

Scottish politics is currently in a state of flux.

After 17 years at Holyrood, the Scottish National Party (SNP) under John Swinney is heading into the 2026 Scottish Parliament elections after being defeated by Labor at this year’s general election.

The SNP has no obvious mechanism to advance its constitutional preferences in the short term after the UK’s Supreme Court ruled that any future independence referendum would require permission from Westminster.

Salmond leaves behind a deeply divided movement – most vividly reflected in the complete breakdown of his political partnership with Ms Sturgeon – and a party scarred by its own internal struggles, not least his judgment and behavior.

However.

On the day he resigned as first minister, he spoke of “the activism of tens of thousands of people who I predict will refuse to meekly return to the political shadows”.

In the decade since the vote, this has proven prescient.

Scotland’s independence is unlikely to happen immediately, but few would deny that Alex Salmond did more than anyone in modern Scottish history to advance the cause, turning it from a fringe pursuit into the mainstream with nearly half the electorate desire.