A few might call it ballsy. Most would call it an act of desperation. For the prime minister to come to Scotland to big up her part in the union as part of her Rolling Light Drizzle legacy tour is rather like Oliver Cromwell dropping in on Ireland to say things weren’t as bad as all that. Even her biggest fans north of the border only greet her with studied indifference. Still, no one could accuse Theresa May of not having a sense of humour. The location for her farewell to Caledonia was a tech start-up in Stirling, just a few miles from Bannockburn where the Scots inflicted a humiliating defeat on the English. History was about to repeat itself.
There was no warm-up or introduction for May. Probably for the best. Least said soonest mended. Instead she just breezed through a side door, took a few strides to the lectern and began speaking. No one cared more deeply about the ‘PreciousTM Union’ than her. It was a preciousTM thing that needed to be nurtured and cherished. Which was obviously why this was the first time she had bothered to make the journey north since November. She loved Scotland so much, she could only appreciate it from afar. To get too close, would risk breaking it. We need to be more passionate about making the case for the union, she said in a flat monotone. The Maybot had spoken.
After a short pause to wipe a speck of dust from her eye, May resumed her narrative. The Scots had been allowed the indulgence of an independence referendum back in 2014, the voters had chosen to stay part of the UK and now it was time for everyone to move on. Try to look at that referendum as a meaningless one night stand and recommit to the marriage. Besides, it had been the English that had bailed out the Scottish banks during the financial crisis and the English that had supported the oil industry when the price had collapsed, so it would be nice if the Scots could just be a bit more grateful for what they had got. This understandably went down like a cup of wet sick.
As did May’s attempts to blame Nicola Sturgeon for the breakdown in relations between the UK and Scottish governments. It was the Scottish first minister who was doing her best to ensure devolution failed in order to trigger a second independence referendum, while she had worked tirelessly to make Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have a small say in their own affairs. Which might have been more convincing had she even once consulted the devolved governments about the Brexit process or not presided over the 900-day absence of a power-sharing executive in Northern Ireland. Or done a confidence and supply arrangement with the DUP and alienated the rest of Northern Ireland for that matter.
Still, she did have some strong words on Brexit. Well, strongish. After paying lip service to the fact that Scotland had voted overwhelmingly to remain, she argued that it was their duty to suck it up because of ... well, the union. You lose some, you lose some. But she was adamant that whoever took over from her shouldn’t mess about with the Good Friday Agreement – perhaps someone in the room might like to pass that piece of good news on to the Irish as she probably wouldn’t have time to let them know in person: things to do, places to go – nor risk the PreciousTM union in the pursuit of a no-deal Brexit.
Not that there was much chance of either Boris Johnson or Jeremy Hunt paying a blind bit of notice to a word she had said – why break the habit of a lifetime? – at the leadership hustings in York an hour or so later. Both men have long since realised that the 160,000 Tory members who will make one of them prime minister are totally deranged – most would throw Scotland under the wheels of one of Johnson’s imaginary wooden buses and marry Ann Widdecombe for a WTO Brexit – and have been outdoing one another to prove who is insane enough to be their leader. It can’t be long before transportation to the colonies, bear baiting and compulsory obesity for all five-year-olds will be government policy.
On stage in York, Boris and Jeremy were soon at it again. Spending billions they didn’t have on promises they had no intention of keeping, while contradicting themselves at will. The hustings have degenerated into a dehumanising, degrading experience for everyone involved. Primarily for the two candidates themselves, though they lack the necessary self-awareness to even appear apologetic. The only value left is as a pilot show for Britain Hasn’t Got Talent. We are witnessing the rise of the PreciousTM Idiocracy.
