IT WAS Norman Lamont who came up with the most withering description of John Major's administration when it was teetering on the brink. Major, he said, was "in office, but not in power". Ouch. It's hard to think of a more damning thing to say about
a country's leader. Yet it's the phrase that occasionally comes to mind about Alex Salmond's stewardship as First Minister of Scotland.
It shouldn't be this way. Salmond is the popular head of a popular government. He doesn't face a fraction of the difficulties Major had to contend with – uppity rebels, public disdain, an economic crisis for which he was held personally responsible. Nevertheless, the SNP leader doesn't look like a man convincingly in control of how his country is run.
Take education, a subject you might have thought was a central concern of any Scottish government. One of Salmond's key manifesto pledges – reducing class sizes – lies in ruins because local councils say the policy is impractical. Similarly with free school meals for kids in the first three years of primary. When this was announced last week, some councils promptly said it couldn't be done without cuts elsewhere in school budgets. In both these cases the response from the Scottish Government was a simple shrug of the shoulders. "We only make the policy," they seemed to be saying, "don't blame us if someone else doesn't implement it." It's a curious way to run a country.
The Scottish voter won't take kindly to this. Call me old-fashioned, but I think voters like politicians to keep promises. They want results, not excuses, regardless of how much the SNP believes its stance is justified by the facts and other people's intransigence. Voters like a government that gets things done, by whatever means necessary. And if that means ring-fencing cash given to councils to ensure money goes where it should, so be it.
There's a good practical reason why Salmond is unwilling to get tough on local government. He agreed to scrap ring-fencing as part of the deal that froze council tax. He needs to keep the council leaders sweet. But the price he is paying is surely too high. Our councils are responsible for vast swathes of citizens' lives – too much to be simply left to get on with it. A shrug just isn't good enough.
On top of this comes the SNP's favourite excuse: blaming Westminster. Salmond's inability to deliver a range of manifesto pledges – from £2,000 grants for first-time homebuyers to scrapping student debt – is not his fault, apparently. Nor is it John Swinney's fault for back-of-a-fag-packet calculations made in opposition. No, it's the Treasury's fault for handing Scotland a "stingy" block grant (in reality, Scotland's usual share of the available pot of cash, determined as always by the Barnett Formula). The fact that Salmond actually has the power to keep his manifesto promises by raising income tax is conveniently forgotten. Far better to moan about being short-changed and say: "It wisnae me."
All this is disheartening to watch. One of the reasons Scotland welcomed an SNP government was the prospect of an administration that would be confident and self-reliant. In its early months we admired its swagger and can-do attitude. The last thing we wanted was a whinge. Yet that's exactly what we're getting – a whinge about the councils, a whinge about the Treasury.
I don't particularly care if it's good or bad politics, it's bad psychology. It panders to one of the least attractive facets of the Scottish mindset – the inability to take responsibility. One of Salmond's goals is to engender enough self-confidence in the Scottish people that they are comfortable about taking the next step to independence. So why routinely undermine this by habitually blaming others?
We can expect to see the blame game extending to the Holyrood Parliament itself. Salmond's first instinct on winning last year's election was to forge a coalition deal to ensure stable government. In fact, he couldn't bring himself to make the necessary concessions to make this happen. So we have a minority government that will fail to turn many of its manifesto promises into law, and a legislature that will pass far fewer laws than before. Instead of accepting responsibility for this, the SNP's approach will be to blame the opposition.
This won't wash. In fact, if last week is anything to go by, the opposition at Holyrood will prevent the SNP from making some appalling political errors. For some bizarre reason known only to themselves, the Nationalists believe the best way to stop 12-year-olds drinking Buckie on street corners is to stop shops selling alcohol to young adults aged between 18 and 21. No, I don't understand the logic either. Nor do I understand why it should be a criminal offence for a third-year law student to buy a bottle of wine to take to a dinner party. A Holyrood vote last week ensured this bonkers law will never make it to the statute book. The Nationalists will still suffer students' wrath at the next election, but not nearly as much as they would have if the law had passed.
The people who voted Salmond into power (and the people who voted for other parties but are happy to see him give it a go) expect a bit more savvy, a bit more sense. And when it comes to getting things done, they expect more leadership, and less shrugging of shoulders.
Join Scotland on Sunday assistant editor Kenny Farquharson from 8pm GMT today for an online chat about the issues of the day. Add your questions or comments below – now – and visit here later today for the live discussion.The full article contains 1006 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
