 | 'Salmond's return to the leadership frontline has him explaining his sudden departure from it four years ago. Partly, it was though being scunnered at the gathering mess around the Holyrood project; and partly, because the SNP was the subject of a ferocious onslaught by hostile newspapers.' Douglas Fraser in the Sunday Herald, 15 th August 2004. |  |
When Alex Salmond promised a constituent he would attend the opening of his Fraserburgh curry house, he was 'giving his word'. And he keeps his word. But when he said he would not stand for the Scottish National Party leadership, would not accept nomination, and if elected would resign, he did not give his word. That was merely 'a position'. And as we know from his late, astonishing entry into the race for his old job, his position can change.
He wishes to take issue with my assertion that there is an equivalence between keeping you word and sticking to your political position. A semantic difference, perhaps? Not at all he responds.
'On the leadership, I changed my mind, and people change their minds on things. I'm certain I won't take any flak on that from the people of Scotland, and if my opponents give me flak ... well hey ho, I'll deal with them. I can honestly say that the only comment I've had about his change of mind is from people saying 'Thank God you did'.'
Salmond loves 'dealing with' opponents, because he is understandably confident that he does so rather well. Right now, he's dealing with two of them - both long-standing Nationalist allies, struggling to stop the Salmond momentum. When he announced his candidacy on July 15, he replaced justice spokesman Nicola sturgeon on the leadership ballot paper, while she stepped down to fight the deputy's post as his sidekick. That surprised both deputy leader Roseanna Cunningham until then the front runner to win the top job, and Mike Russell, the former party chief executive and for many years Salmond's most trusted lieutenant.
Why were they not good enough to be leader? The answer is one of those flashes of Salmond arrogance, which he carries off with a knowing grin: 'They'd both make very fine leaders of the SNP. (But) what we need now is a bit of magic, and I think the combination of Nicola and I can supply a bit of magic.'
He is, he says, a motivator, whereas John Swinney's strength - shared with Sturgeon - has bee as an organiser: 'What last year's election campaign perhaps lacked was oomph and direction. What we have to do is supply the inspiration with the organisation.'
Salmond has already counted the 220 days until the likely date for the next Westminster election, and bats away lesser issues to set out his plan for it. He talks of giving the party a clearer social democratic edge than Swinney, starting with a pensions policy as a citizens' safety net. He wants to integrate tax and benefits, to campaign against the council tax and even more about water rates 'because they've gone up hideously and are even more regressive than council tax.'
He cites Sturgeon's influence in talking not about big or good government but 'great government', asking why Scots don't seem to get value for tax money spent. 'How do you get a great infrastructure in Scotland? How do you get a new age of improvement? I think that's something I'll enjoy bringing forward. It's something I can make dance in terms of a political issue. I'll not explain it in terms of bond issues, but in what that will deliver. You don't sell socks on socks, but on the warm feet.
But first, Salmond is warming his feet at the hearth of nostalgia, looking back at the rosy glow he perceives from his former, 10-year leadership of the SNP. He is talking about what he has learned since then, including his four-year 'sabbatical' as a mere MP.
If the questions don't suit Salmond, he tells you what they should be before answering them.: 'If you're leading me to suggest that as a 49-year-old, I might be less brash and individualistic, then the answer's yes. You learn lessons as life goes on. I was a young man in a hurry 14 years ago, and now I'm a middle-aged man in a hurry.'
Still in a hurry?
'There's a lot to be done and a limited time to do it. What else did I learn?' he continues to interview himself. 'I learned to put things into the right context. I don't know if my skin's thicker, but my sense of proportion is greater. I know what I have to do to communicate my message. And with the greatest respect to the press corps, if I depended on them, I don't think we'd get very far. To communicate the message, it's television straight to the people and as much personal campaigning as possible.'
Multi-channel television is a golden opportunity then?
'It's good isn't it?' he replies cockily. 'There's a lot more opportunities. I'm sort of resident on Sky.'
That may be just as well, as his critics see his prospective leadership being carried out from the TV studios of Westminster, controlling the strings of his deputy in the Scottish parliament until he has a chance to return to it in 2007.
He recalls his early days as an MP, when the task was to do anything to get attention for the SNP including getting himself suspended from the Commons. Elected leader in 1990, his targets were to get the party a clearer, centre-left identity, people slap one on you.'
He tackled negatives among Catholics, Asians and English incomers to Scotland: 'It became very important to have a reaching-out process, not just to say we don't mean you any harm, but to step across the road to shake your hand and say 'We identify with what you identify with.' That's something I'm very proud of.'
Salmond's return to the leadership frontline has him explaining his sudden departure from it four years ago. Partly, it was though being scunnered at the gathering mess around the Holyrood project; and partly, because the SNP was the subject of a ferocious onslaught by hostile newspapers.
'I was beginning to wonder if I had become the story, and if the SNP had a different style - less-up-and-at-'em, less in your face - if I was out the road, then the party might get a better deal, a better press, a chance, a fair break.
'That now looks silly because that was one thing John (Swinney) never got, despite being the nicest guy you'll ever meet. Things that for other people would have been seen as small matters were blown out of proportion for him.'
Nobody has accused Salmond of being the nicest guy they've ever met. There's charm and humour, but also a ruthless steeliness. Naturally, he likes to be popular, but you can sense he also likes to be feared. He's good at politics, he knows it, and he's not afraid to flaunt it.
Being a big political beast, he now acknowledges that he was a problem for Swinney's leadership. That was why he left the Scottish parliament to focus on the Commons. 'I didn't make it explicit at the time, but the reason I went back to Westminster was that I didn't want to sit looking over John's shoulder. John and I get on extremely well, but it was an inherently difficult position, so it was easier for me to be out the road.'
Absent from the font line, Salmond was reputed to be missing it. There has been think and reading time, he says, particularly books about Scottish history. From the long spectrum between Tom Devine and Michael Fry, he has drawn lessons about Scotland's immense sense of confidence in past eras.
The chronic back pain of the earlier leadership years is now much improved. 'I'm not just back to golfing,' he says with that cheeky grin. 'I'm golfing really well.'
He has cut three homes down to one - a beautiful old mill in his Banff and Buchan constituency, which has become something of a restoration project in the company of the flock of muscovy ducks his wife Moira tends.
So after a career break, what will be different about his leadership if he wins again? Sturgeon will be a key difference, he says: 'We offer advantages as a team: north and central belt, male and female, youth and experience, we are greater than the sum of our parts. My style will be much more collective because I have more people to be collective with. Even in 1999, with 35 MSPs elected, only six had parliamentary experience. Most were learning the trade. A lot of them have.'
Salmond disagrees with both his rivals on the gravity of the party's current position: 'I don't think the party needs to beat up on itself. We're not dealing with something that's unmanageable. We're dealing with a reservoir of goodwill. This party has profoundly decent people who are a joy to lead.'
Being such a clear front-runner, Salmond does not need to attack his opponents. He only allows himself one oblique criticism which could apply equally to both of them: 'Some people at the upper echelons of the SNP should be asking themselves how much they've contributed to the cause.'
Party indiscipline has been at the top, he say. He offers an amnesty 'to everyone' - he says it three times with near menacing emphasis - but 'when the train starts leaving the station towards independence, people have to decide if they want to be on or off it.'
More than others, Salmond can make than train sound fun.
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