Scottish politics is a small world. Inevitably so, in a nation of 5.5 million. The Scottish National party is also close-knit, once famous for presenting a unified front to outsiders. That is how it grew to become the dominant force, now in its 14th year in government. It also helps explain why the feud between Nicola Sturgeon and Alex Salmond has been so bitter and all-consuming as a spectacle. In terms of SNP division, it was a volcanic eruption on what had previously been a largely featureless landscape.
The lava has stopped flowing, but the ground is scorched. The origin of the dispute is allegations of sexual harassment and assault made against Mr Salmond, which he denied. A court acquitted him on all charges last year. A parallel controversy ignited around the Scottish civil service’s handling of the allegations; its own botched inquiry (revealed in a different court case to have been “tainted by apparent bias”); and questions of what Ms Sturgeon had known and when, and what action she had or hadn’t taken.
Mr Salmond alleged a malicious plot. The first minister pleaded memory lapses. Whether she had knowingly breached the ministerial code became the crux question. Earlier this week, an independent inquiry decreed that she had not. A separate report by an investigating committee of MSPs was more critical, but the force of its conclusions was blunted by leaks and conspicuous partisanship. A vote of no confidence against Ms Sturgeon at Holyrood flopped.
While Mr Salmond is still settling scores with more legal action, most of Scottish politics is moving on to May’s devolved elections. Ms Sturgeon is battling for a majority that she could brandish as a mandate for a second independence referendum. Opposition parties are trying, as ever, to swing the conversation away from constitutional issues and on to the SNP’s record on public services.
Between those competing agendas there is not much room for reflection on what the whole shabby circus has revealed about the culture of Scottish politics. Aside from specific allegations and irrespective of individual cases, the prevailing discourse around sexual harassment has been thoughtlessly or aggressively politicised, distorted by ideology and made a subset of hyperpartisan opinion. Many Scottish women have found that demoralising and intimidating.
The right of a complainant to anonymity has been routinely forgotten or wilfully trampled on many fronts in vicious political trench warfare. The Scottish government has relinquished any claim to be capable of handling sensitive internal matters with judicious professionalism. The same goes for the SNP. The boundary between the two is often blurred, which is a feature of stale incumbency and a symptom of failing accountability.
In the digital arena, casual and violent misogyny have seeped ever further into the mainstream. Ms Sturgeon’s position looks secure, but it is hard to escape the conclusion that, in the past year, Scotland has become a more hostile environment for all women. Away from politics, women have heard a message of discouragement against speaking out against abuse.
This has been an ugly battle with no winners. Women’s rights and the duty to handle allegations fairly have not often enough been the primary concern, as Ms Sturgeon has acknowledged with regret and a pledge of reform. It is hard to foresee what, if any, electoral consequences the saga will have. But by its divisions, its closed culture and its corporate failures, the SNP has inadvertently made a case for change in the way Scotland is governed.
