BY STEWART SLATER
That all political careers end in failure is a truism. And, like all truisms, it is not always true – there is little reasonable doubt that both Obama and Clinton would have won re-election if America permitted Presidents to serve more than two terms. But as a rule of thumb, it holds up reasonably well. Just ask Liz Truss, Theresa May, David Cameron, Gordon Brown, John Major, Margaret Thatcher. You get the picture. (For those noticing the large blond gap in the list, we cannot yet know if, in the depths of despair, the Conservatives will press the panic button and reach for the man who, no doubt, currently sees himself as the country’s Once and Future Prime Minister).
Given the frequency with which it occurs, we have a pretty good understanding about what political failure looks like. As the list above shows, we have plenty of examples. But consider the altogether slippier concept of political success, what does that look like?
Consider, for example, two politicians. Purely for the sake of convenience, let’s call them “Nicola” and “Nigel”. Nicola is very good at winning elections. Indeed, she rises to the highest office in the land. But Nicola has a burning desire, a project she has yearned to complete since her childhood and, despite long years in office, she leaves it as unfulfilled as when she took power. The rest of her track record is, shall we say, mixed.
Nigel, by contrast, is rather less successful at winning power. He runs for Parliament in several elections and loses every single one. Not being in Parliament means he can never hold office. He has no portrait in Downing Street. But Nigel is able to build a campaigning group, fear of which prompts the Prime Minister of the day to grant a referendum on his burning passion (just like Nicola, Nigel is a true believer). If Nigel is not great at getting people to vote for him, he is (in combination with his frenemies) very good at getting them to vote for his ideas, so his side wins and his pet project gets enacted.
Which of the two is the better politician?
As of today, the consensus in the media is clear. Nicola (Sturgeon, in case you hadn’t guessed) is, to the BBC, one of “the most impressive politicians of her generation”, while Nigel (Farage) has returned to his natural milieu as a smoking, drinking end-of-the-pier show attraction.
Sturgeon certainly won elections, but she did so at the head of the only major party to support independence. In a time when politics positioning has come to be a matter of fundamental identity for many, is winning elections with the votes of the roughly 45% of the electorate which is pro-separatism while the unionist vote was split between the other parties really that great an achievement? (Those touting the 2019 election as a reason for the return of the Blond Beast may wish to be careful how they answer this).
Even if we give her credit for her victories, is winning elections, in and of itself, enough to guarantee political greatness? Surely not. All the people in the list above save Liz Truss and Gordon Brown won elections. None of them is going to make any collection of Britain’s best leaders. Even to make the suggestion is quite odd. In no other form of human endeavour is the mere act of getting a job sufficient to claim greatness at it -being hired to churn out peri-peri in one’s local Nando’s may entitle one to call oneself a chef, but it does not win a Michelin star. Politicians may not like this fact (compare Keir Starmer’s eagerness to remind us that he was DPP with his reluctance to discuss what he actually did in office), but only in fairy tales does wishing for something make it true.
But if this is the case, the argument for Sturgeon’s political greatness seems altogether slighter for her track record in office is not one of success piled on success. She did not win independence, nor does it seem any closer. It required “one more heave” after the referendum and it still requires “one more heave” today. Has she transformed her country into a land of milk and honey? If milk and honey are slang for drugs and educational failure, possibly, but on the plain reading of the words, no. Is Scotland better for her being in office? To be blunt, not really. Nor, more importantly, is it different.
Things may be a bit worse than they were on numerous measures, but these are a matter of a slow steady slide. They are a continuation, and worsening, of existing problems. Scotland is on the same path it was before she took over, maybe a bit better than it might have been, maybe a bit worse, but still, very much on the same trajectory. Had Nicola Sturgeon not existed, Scotland would have had no need to invent her.
Rather than keeping the plane of state on a steady flight path, great politicians (think Lloyd George, Attlee, Thatcher and (?) Blair) tear up the flight plan and then force their opponents to follow the new one. They, to mix the metaphor somewhat, change the facts on the ground and turn what seemed like an outlandish idea into the base case from which all subsequent politics flows. We may reasonably argue whether they make the country better or worse, but all sides of the spectrum agree that they make it different. That wasn’t Nicola, but it was Nigel.
As she ponders her retirement, doubtless in some lavishly-funded tax-free sinecure, and her once mighty name slowly fades into obscurity, Sturgeon will have to reconcile herself to the fact it is Farage’s world. She just lives in it.
Stewart Slater works in Finance. He invites you to join him at his website.