Ruthless

 

From headtopics.com

 

And now, goes a popular song, the end is near, and so I face the final curtain…  A lot of things in British politics have faced the final curtain recently.  For example, the premiership of Theresa May, and the credibility of the Change UK Party – finished as a political force by a dismal showing in the European elections even though, cruelly, the curtain had only come up on it a few months earlier.

 

Thanks to the arrival of Boris Johnson as prime minister, the final curtain is falling on any last shreds of respect that Britain might have commanded on the international stage – a humbling new role awaits the country as pageboy to Donald Trump.  And this week’s plot by Johnson, involving the Queen, to prorogue Parliament and thwart opposition to a no-deal Brexit has shown that it’s curtains for any pretence that Britain is a functioning democracy.  And it increasingly looks like curtains for any hope that Britain might depart the European Union in a fashion that stops its economy from imploding.

 

North of the border, the curtain has fallen too on the tenure of the hapless David Mundell as Secretary of State for Scotland – Johnson ousted him in favour of a posh tweedy hunting-and-shooting non-entity called Alister Jack, who has both shares in and financial support from Jardine Matheson Holdings Limited, the notorious imperialist opium dealers of the 19th century.  Jack probably believes that the best economic future for Scottish people is to work on zero-hour contracts as grouse beaters for visiting aristocrats and oligarchs.

 

And now, it’s just emerged, the curtain has come down on Ruth Davidson as leader of the Scottish Conservative and Unionist Party.  Scottish politics has become Ruth-less.

 

Predictably, Davidson’s resignation, which she confirmed yesterday, caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth in Scotland’s right-wing mainstream media.  For instance, Chris Deerin, latterly of the Telegraph, Scotland on Sunday and Daily Mail and now a contributor to the New Statesman, gushed on Twitter about “the energy, charisma and campaigning pizzazz of Ruth…  She is also one of the most determined and gritty people I know.”  Pushing the needle even further up the scale on the vomit-o-meter was Daily Mail and Spectator columnist Stephen Daisley, who wrote, “Adversity has never been far from her path but she has met it with tenacity and good humour…  Personal grit has been in Davidson’s blood from the start but she has been hardened by struggle…” and called her “a 5’5” firecracker’ and ‘Boudicca in a power suit’.  You can almost hear Elton John singing Candle in the Wind in the background.

 

Oh guys, puhlease…  If any adjective describes Ruth Davidson as a politician, it’s not ‘energetic’ or charismatic’ or ‘determined’ or ‘gritty’.  It’s ‘overrated’.

 

Davidson was the great white hope for members of Scotland’s old political, media and civic establishments, where you used to make your name and money promoting the interests of the Conservative Party or Labour Party in a comfortable status quo – i.e. Scotland voted Labour and was ruled by mostly Conservative governments in London and nobody said ‘boo’ about anything – and where your Scottishness, in the form of kilts, malt whisky, golf, Hogmanay, Munro-bagging and so, was something you played up occasionally to make yourself seem slightly exotic.  She seemed the political leader most likely to return Scotland to the sanity of the good old days.  Those days were before 2007 when the Scottish National Party seized power in Edinburgh, turned political assumptions on their heads and made the prospect of Scottish independence the key issue of the day.

 

The hopes attached to Davidson meant she had a ridiculously easy ride in Scotland’s mainstream media – and by extension in the British media, where perceptions of her as that rare beast, a nice Tory, meant she turned up as a guest in Have I Got News for You and The Great British Bake-Off and on the sofa for cosy chats with Andrew Marr.  Instead of pestering her about her party’s brutal austerity policies, Scottish journalists were happy publishing the results of photo opportunities where she’d don Highland dress and attempt to play the bagpipes, or sit on top of a buffalo, or pose on top of a tank, and were happy chuckling, “Good old Ruth!  What a laugh!”  Though the photo op where she rode down some steps in a mobility vehicle backfired when it emerged that, thanks to her party’s social security policies in Westminster, over 50,000 people with mobility issues had lost their right to such vehicles in the past four years.

 

From twitter.com

 

Indeed, Davidson was so accustomed to fawning press coverage that she struggled when a reporter did ask difficult questions.  Witness how she took a huff and stormed off when Channel 4’s Ciaran Jenkins tackled her about the Conservative Party’s alliance with Northern Ireland’s Democratic Unionist Party – Davidson has been in a same-sex relationship for years while the DUP is notoriously homophobic.

 

Still, her supporters would argue, look at her record as leader of the Scottish Tories!  Didn’t she achieve the impossible?  Didn’t she de-toxify her party in Scotland at a time when the reason why the talentless David Mundell got the job of Secretary of State for Scotland was because he was the only Member of Parliament (out of 59 seats) that the Conservative Party had in Scotland?

 

Well, in the 2016 election for the Scottish Parliament, the Tories did increase their share of the vote to by 8.1% to 22%, making them the second-biggest party in that parliament – though thanks to the vagaries of the Scottish electoral system, they finished seven seats ahead of Labour, who actually got 0.6% more of the vote than they did.  Needless to say, Davidson’s fans in the Scottish mainstream media made such a hullaballoo about it that you’d have thought the Tories, not Nicola Sturgeon’s SNP, had won the election.  (THE UNION STRIKES BACK was the headline that accompanied Alex Massie’s piece about it in the Spectator, with a picture of Davidson’s head photo-shopped onto Princess Leia’s body.  Though the folk who did the striking back in the celebrated 1980 sci-fi fantasy movie were the Empire, who were space-Nazis led by Darth Vader – probably not the analogy Massie was looking for.)

 

In the British general election of 2017, Scotland’s army of right-wing columnists, commentators and journalists seemed to collectively come in their tweed breeks when the Scottish Tories increased their number of MPs from one to 13 – helped no doubt by Scottish Labour leader Kezia Dugdale urging voters in certain constituencies to vote Tory and stick it to the SNP.  Again, such was the puffery that you’d have thought Davidson was now First Minister of Scotland, not Nicola Sturgeon.  There was much blather about how Davidson’s cohort of 13 MPs were going to exert a moderating and pro-Scottish influence over Theresa May’s minority government.  It came as no surprise when they didn’t.  Indeed, by 2019, most of them were ignoring the wishes of their pro-EU constituencies and voting in parliament to keep open the option of a disastrous no-deal Brexit.

 

One thing that Davidson was good at was conveying a simple message – all her other policies being either nebulous or negotiable – which was, “Vote for me, say no to Scottish independence and say yes to the British Union!”  This appeal to British nationalism helped her party win the support of the hard-line Protestant, Glasgow Rangers-supporting faction of the Scottish population that had strong sympathies with the pro-British Protestant community in Northern Ireland.  It also reeled in supporters of the extremist likes of UKIP and Britain First.  (Webzine Bella Caledonia has an interesting article called 30 Toxic Tories, listing the most racist bampots who ended up in the Scottish Conservative fold under Davidson’s watch.)

 

© Channel 4

 

No doubt the Northern Irish angle was why in 2018 she and her buddy David Mundell threatened they “would resign if Northern Ireland faces new controls that separate it from the rest of the UK” in some new Brexit deal.  By November 2018 Theresa May had indeed proposed a Brexit deal that might involve separate arrangements for Northern Ireland, but – surprise! – Davidson and Mundell decided not to resign after all.

 

This brings us to the subject of Davidson’s principles, which have been flexible to say the least.  Prior to the 2016 vote Britain’s membership of the EU, she won praise for taking part in a public debate where she defended the EU and railed against the Brexiting likes of Boris Johnson, Gisela Stuart and Andrea Leadsom.  “The other side have said throughout this debate that they don’t like experts,” she argued, “but when it comes to keeping this country safe and secure I want to listen to the experts.  So when the head of GCHQ says we are safer in the EU I listen.  When five former NATO chiefs say we are safer in the EU I listen.  When the head of Interpol, who is a Brit, says we are safer in the EU I listen.  When the head of MI5 and MI6 says we are safer in the EU I listen.”

 

But Davidson’s enthusiasm for continued EU membership didn’t survive when the vote went the other way and her new political boss in Westminster, Theresa May, committed herself to Brexit.  (Symbolic of Davidson’s about-turn on the issue were the Conservative Party leaflets distributed during campaigning for the recent Scottish parliamentary by-election in the Shetlands.  They bore a picture of her grinning features above a claim that the Tory candidate was the person to vote for ‘if you want to LEAVE the EU’.)  For a while she made noises about the UK staying in the  EU’s single market, which she said was something Scotland should have “the largest amount of access to.”  But those noises changed too when Theresa May declared that Britain “cannot possibly” remain in the single market because it would mean “not leaving the EU at all.”  On cue, Davidson suddenly poo-pooed the idea because it wouldn’t “allow for independent trade deals to be struck with third countries” and would mean accepting “freedom of movement”.

 

Davidson’s career, in fact, has been a series of instances where she expressed liberal sentiments because they were popular at the time but then fell silent when the wind – and the opinions of her political masters – changed direction.  In 2015, when a certain orange-skinned gobshite looked like he had zero chance of getting anywhere near the White House, she quoted Henry IV Part One and tweeted that Donald Trump was a ‘clay-brained, guts, knotted-pated, whoreson, obscene greasy tallow-patch’.  Inevitably, when Trump became US president and Theresa May jetted over to Washington DC to kiss his arse and beg for a post-Brexit trade deal, she made no further references to Trump’s obsceneness, greasiness, etc.

 

However, the arrival of Boris Johnson as British Prime Minister and leader of the Conservative Party was too much even for someone of Davidson’s elasticity.  Even she would have problems defending Johnson going full-steam-ahead for a disastrous no-deal Brexit on October 31st – especially as her Scottish parliamentary constituency is in Edinburgh, the most pro-EU city in the UK.  Johnson’s sacking of her good chum Mundell probably didn’t help.  Although rather than seize the moment yesterday and castigate Johnson for all the damage he’s caused, she claimed her reasons for stepping down were family-related ones.

 

So what will Ruth Davidson do now?  Perhaps Boris Johnson will show some magnanimity and give her a seat in the House of Lords, where she can rub ermine-draped shoulders with such former titans of Scottish politics as Baron George Foulkes of Cumnock and Baron Michael Forsyth of Drumlean.  Aye, hanging out with her intellectual equals in an institution of insufferable privilege and entitlement – that’s the best place for her.

 

From caltonjock.com

 

Enger-lund

 

From fifa.com

 

It’s World Cup time and England have been playing unexpectedly well.  They’re in the final four with a semi-final game scheduled for seven o’clock BST tonight against Croatia.

 

Less unexpected is the debate that flares up north of the border whenever England qualify for a World Cup, irrespective of whether Scotland have also qualified or, as has been the case these last 20 years, they haven’t qualified.  The question of this debate is: Should Scottish people support England during their World Cup games?

 

As usual, opinion pieces have clogged the pages of newspapers and current affairs magazines, penned by Scottish journalists adding their tuppence-worth to the subject.  Since the first kick of the ball in the first World Cup game of 2018, we’ve had Lesley Riddoch in the National, Chris Deerin in the New Statesman, Kevin McKenna in the Herald, Stephen Daisley in the Spectator and many more.

 

Daisley, for instance, stated his belief that Scots are obliged to support England in the competition: “If Scotland were heading into a World Cup semi-final – come now, it’s not nice to laugh – you can just picture the response south of the border.  England fans would throw their support behind the plucky 11…  Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn would discover long-lost great grannies who once had a fish supper in Portobello.  The Sun would give away novelty kilts bearing the legend ‘It’s coming hame’; the Mirror would reprint the lyrics of Flower of Scotland for its readers to sing along.”  Funnily enough, I was in the UK two years ago when Wales reached the semi-finals of the European Championship and I don’t recall Therezza, Jezza, the Sun and the Mirror being so enthusiastic about the Welsh.

 

© Bob Thomas / Getty Images

 

Back in the days of my youth, there was certainly a strong Scottish penchant for not supporting England at football and, indeed, for supporting any team playing against England.  When England took on Argentina in the 1986 World Cup, everyone I knew in Scotland hooted with laughter when Maradona showed the poor old English the door aided by his dodgy ‘hand of God’ goal.  This was despite the fact that, as part of the UK, Scotland had been at war with Argentina only four years earlier, as of course had England.

 

During the 1990 World Cup, the atmosphere was electric in my regular pub in Aberdeen when England played Cameroon.  This was helped no end by the entry of a group of Cameroonian students, come to watch the game on TV.  While the game was going Cameroon’s way, the students enlivened the pub by performing some traditional Cameroonian dancing, which the locals – rather atypically for Aberdonians, a people not given to over-exuberance – heartily joined in with.  And when England stole the game 3-2 in extra time, the dancing stopped and both Scottish and Cameroonian faces were long and downcast.  Later, when England went out in the semi-finals courtesy of Germany, someone in Glasgow celebrated by painting a local statue of St George in the German team colours.

 

Footballing-wise, it was easy to be ‘anyone-but-England’ in Scotland at the time.  Sometimes it felt like a political protest.  The UK was governed in an autocratic and centralised fashion by a Conservative government led by that most English-seeming of figures, Margaret Thatcher.  A majority of Scots were anti-Thatcherite, but their objections seemed to matter not a jot with those in power in London whose economic policies were dismantling Scotland’s traditional heavy industries and wrecking its traditional working-class communities.

 

Also, much of England’s travelling support seemed to consist of hooligans and / or racists.  In a recent, excellent piece about English football and English identity in the New Statesman, Jason Cowley recalls how a memorable 2-0 England win over Brazil in 1984 was, in the eyes of certain fans, a 1-0 England victory.  To them, one of the goals didn’t count because it’d been scored by a black player, John Barnes.  So who’d want to back a team supported by that unlovable bunch?

 

From www.soccer-ireland.com

 

Conversely, now that Scotland has its own devolved parliament and has at least a measure of responsibility for its own affairs, and now that the new generation of English fans have a better reputation than their predecessors, the anyone-but-England mentality seems much less pronounced in Scotland.  But I don’t see why, as Daisley thinks, Scots should be compelled to support England.  Sure, they can support them if they want to.  But it shouldn’t be shocking if they don’t want to, for a couple of reasons.

 

Firstly, plenty of Scottish football fans still see England as their great rival on the footballing stage – not, admittedly, that they’ve had an opportunity to compete against England in any major tournaments during the 21st century because the Scotland side has been too gash to qualify for them.  And it’s a basic law of sporting physics that rivals, especially near-neighbours, do not support each other.  Rather, they’ll happily support their rivals’ opponents.  When Newcastle United took on Manchester United in the 1999 FA Cup Final, I’d bet that very few Sunderland fans, ten miles down the way, were backing them.  And I doubt if many, or indeed any, Celtic supporters were cheering on their old Glasgow rivals Rangers when the latter were up against FC Zenit St Petersburg in the 2008 UEFA Cup final.

 

This rule extends to national football teams.  I’ve had Dutch people tell me that they don’t want Germany to win, and Ethiopians have said the same about Egypt.  And to other sports – I remember a long-ago rugby world cup where an Australian friend told me how disgruntled he was at hearing certain New Zealanders, whom he knew and considered good mates, cheering on any team that played Australia.  I also remember a Canadian friend asking me one time in a puzzled tone about the anyone-but-England mentality among Scottish football fans.  “So when the USA play Finland at ice hockey,” I asked her, “who do you Canadians support?”  “Finland of course!” she said immediately.

 

Secondly – and this isn’t the fault of the England players or supporters – the amount of hype that accompanies England’s entry into every footballing competition, generated by English-based pundits, TV stations and newspapers, puts you off them.  It’s immense and overwhelming and rapidly becomes maddening if you live in parts of the United Kingdom that aren’t England but are still saturated by England’s media.  These days, in fact, most of the xenophobia isn’t to be found among the fans, bad boys though they were in the past, but among the tabloids.  Witness the amount of gloating that went on when Germany were knocked out in an uncharacteristically early stage of this World Cup: SCHADENFREUDE declared the front-page headline in the Sun, which then provided a short definition (“Pleasure derived from another person’s dissatisfaction”) presumably because it considered its readers too dense to know what the word meant.

 

© Daily Express / From the BBC

 

No doubt the frenzied jingoistic coverage of this year’s World Cup has been ramped up in England’s right-wing, Brexit-crazed newspapers in the hope that it’ll help to bury news of the ultra-shambles, mega-shambles, hyper-shambles and total absolute omni-shambles that Theresa May’s government is currently making of the Brexit negotiations.  They probably hope too that if England win the World Cup, it’ll take people’s minds off the 1930s / Great Depression-style economic misery that’ll inevitably follow a hard Brexit.

 

Personally, I don’t see any reason why I should support England as it just isn’t my national football team – for me, that title is shared jointly by Scotland and Northern Ireland.  And for the reasons mentioned above, I’ve borne the anyone-but-England attitude in the past.  But I bear no ill-feeling against this current England side and I’m happy to see them do well.

 

Partly it’s because the current England squad seem like a decent bunch of blokes, certainly in comparison with some of the bloated egos and elephantine senses of entitlement that’ve populated past squads.  (The nadir was surely the England World Cup squad of 2006, who rolled up in Germany with their Sex and the City-style wives and girlfriends.  This led to the gruesome spectacle of Victoria Beckham, Cheryl Cole, Coleen Rooney and co. descending regularly on the boutiques of Baden-Baden, with the paparazzi in tow, and blowing more money in a single shopping trip than most England fans earned in a year.)

 

I also like English manager Gareth Southgate, who has executed his World Cup duties with intelligence, humility and compassion.  I even had a lump in my throat when, after England got past Colombia in their quarter-final win game, Southgate saw a Colombian player who’d missed an all-important penalty crying and went over and gave him a hug.

 

And he knows how to wear a waistcoat.  These things are important.

 

© CNN

 

So I can support this version of England – that is, if I embargo all English newspapers beforehand and have the TV volume turned down so that my brain isn’t turned to mush by any drivelling, hubristic English-TV-studio commentary.  But I’m still not sure I want them to win the World Cup.  I shudder to imagine the English media’s reaction.  They’d be braying and crowing about it for years.  Come to think of it, they still haven’t shut up about winning the bloody thing in 1966.

 

Then again, if that happens and the “We won! We won!” hysteria gets so unbearable, Scotland could be independent by Christmas.