FMQs: D-Day and a deputy debate
- Published
The tributes were solemn. The words chosen well. Variously, political leaders paid tribute to those who had fought, notably those whose lives had been lost in winning the battle for freedom.
All aimed at swelling the high tide of commemoration for those who took part in the D-Day Landings in Normandy, 75 years ago.
Several added a contemporary note, warning of the need for persistent, continuing vigilance to contain the menace of fascism.
Self-evidently, by contrast to the horrific grandeur of these historical events, there was a possibility that modern discourse would be swamped, would seem somehow petty.
But that would be a misreading of the Normandy lesson. The landings were the first stage in an endeavour of liberation. An endeavour explicitly designed to counter zealotry and to return Europe to a focus on the mundane, the everyday.
An extraordinary effort, intended to bolster the ordinary.
It seems to me, therefore, entirely fitting that our political leaders at Holyrood moved from their unified tributes to the arguments and advocacy of contemporary debate.
Ruth Davidson, the Conservative leader, made a conscious choice. There she was, confronted by the Education Secretary John Swinney in his role deputising for the first minister, who was at the D-Day commemoration.
She decided to tackle him directly upon his departmental record. The Tories have pursued the topic of education repeatedly. Plainly, it has not lost its capacity to fascinate.
In particular, Ms Davidson was concerned about combined classes, where teachers have to cope with pupils pursuing a range of courses.
She cited examples from across Scotland, including one school in Inverclyde where one maths class apparently blends four levels of academic challenge, from National 4 to Advanced Higher.
'Moanfest'
Mr Swinney rebutted her arguments with vigour, essentially summoning three arguments. That multi-level teaching was an entrenched feature of Scottish education, that it was up to local authorities and schools to devote resources as they saw fit and, finally, that the level of attainment in Scotland suggested that the system, overall, was working well.
But Ms Davidson pressed and pressed. She accused the deputy FM of ignoring the extent of the problem.
In response, Mr Swinney accused her of orchestrating a Moanfest. She had, he declared with gusto, been preparing for this indulgent exercise while he had been attending an awards ceremony, celebrating achievement in Scotland's schools.
Rhetorically, it was magnificent - and drew loud applause from enthusiastic SNP supporters. But Ms Davidson seemed undeterred. Her battered old school dictionary probably renders "moanfest" as follows: noun, abstract, the job of opposition.
Labour's Richard Leonard also trod familiar ground in asking, again, for ministers to fund an income supplement to those in poverty, as recommended by the Scottish government's own commission on the subject.
Mr Swinney said the issue was under discussion - and he listed other efforts to mitigate hardship. But, when the Labour leader persisted, the deputy FM again resorted to rhetoric. And, again, with effect.
Labour, he said, had a nerve to challenge the SG on moral grounds, given that they appeared content to leave control of most welfare decisions in UK Conservative hands. Cue supportive applause, once more.
Tricky exchanges, then, with Patrick Harvie of the Greens. Mr Harvie contrasted the SG declaration of a "climate emergency" with the decision to continue with dualling two roads, the A9 and the A96, thus, he implied, boosting motorised traffic and carbon emissions.
According to Mr Harvie, this was either an emergency which governed all ministerial thinking. Or it was not. One or the other. Not both.
Mr Swinney trod very carefully in response. For one thing, the issue is hugely salient to many voters, especially the young. For another, the Greens have backed the SG's budget.
But there is another consideration. Many voters - including those in Mr Swinney's own constituency - are rather looking forward to the dualling of the A9 and A96.
And so Mr Swinney was cautious. He opened by declaring that there was an "absolute obligation" to preserve the environment. Before proceeding, it appeared, to offer some degree of qualification.
The two roads projects cited, he argued, were needed on safety grounds, to minimise accidents and fatalities. But Ministers would miss no opportunity to enhance environmental protection.
And then we turned to Willie Rennie. The Lib Dem leader, being called fourth (or forth), plainly feels the need to startle.
Like Ruth Davidson, he accused Mr Swinney of falling down on his educational remit. Indeed, he said the Minister was "in denial" about the scope of the problems in Scotland's schools.
And then it came. In that regard, he said, John Swinney resembled Donald Trump. As the chamber quivered, audibly and even visibly, Mr Rennie explained.
The President had been unable to see demonstrators on London's streets. Mr Swinney was, comparably, unable to see the educational challenge before him.
And was Mr Swinney impressed? Did he quail? Far from it. He described Mr Rennie's contribution as "ridiculous", arguing that it removed any fragment of seriousness from his question.
In his turn, Mr Rennie persisted. Mr Swinney, he said, had been given the education remit because he had the clout, the experience and the confidence of the FM.
Sonorously, he roared out his concluding challenge. Did Mr Swinney feel he had met that challenge? Did he?Mr Swinney replied "Yes". And sat down.
It remained only for the Presiding Officer to commend his brevity.