logo
Kate Forbes, Nicola Sturgeon, and the case for Free Speech

Kate Forbes, Nicola Sturgeon, and the case for Free Speech

Whether it's Kate Forbes appearing at a live event hosted by The Herald or Nicola Sturgeon writing in her memoirs, both women are entitled to have their takes on the world and politics heard.
In an age where public discourse is becoming faster and more polarised than ever, the principle of free speech is being tested from all sides.
We've been here before, and history should have taught us a lesson.
In 2023, the comedy club The Stand announced it had cancelled Joanna Cherry's appearance because staff were not comfortable with her views on transgender issues.
The appearance went ahead after the threat of legal action, with the venue accepting the decision was 'unfair and constituted unlawful discrimination against Ms Cherry.'
They discovered that disagreement is not a legitimate excuse to shutter someone's voice.
Appearing at Matt Forde's s Political Party show at the Fringe on Wednesday, Joanna Cherry said there are currently threats to free speech in Scotland which she believes are "coming from" political parties.
Asked about free speech by the political commentator, Ms Cherry said: "there is a real problem in our politics in Scotland that has seeped into our public life."
If we go further back to 2020, we can look at Franklin Graham's planned event at Glasgow's Scottish Event Campus (SEC) which was cancelled due to pressure from Glasgow City Council and religious groups.
The cancellation followed criticism of Graham's views on homosexuality, Islam, and Donald Trump but the SEC was later ordered to pay almost £100,000 in damages to the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association for breach of contract and discrimination.
More recently, the National Library of Scotland faced criticism after it emerged that a collection of essays by gender-critical women had been cut from an exhibition because the national librarian was worried it would lose support from stakeholders.
And the same is true across the board.
Take Nicola Sturgeon, whose recent memoir Frankly some say they cannot bear to read. Her political perspectives, personal experiences, and interpretations of events may resonate with some and repulse others. Some might not even belong to Camp 'Good Sturgeon' or Camp 'Bad Sturgeon'. Some might see her as a complicated individual who has made both good and bad decisions — complex, a term often afforded to men and not to women.
READ MORE:
Joanna Cherry: 'Shocking' Free Speech threat at Edinburgh Fringe
WATCH: The Herald's Unspun Live takes over the Fringe
Disagreement is the nature of politics — and indeed of life. But the fact we disagree is not, and should never be, a reason to muzzle others.
Somewhere along the way, some of us started treating free speech as a reward for being 'right' in the eyes of some. But that's not how it works.
Safeguards of free speech in the Human Rights Act weren't built to shield palatable chatter — they're there to protect, at times, the controversial, the awkward, even the infuriating.
The alternative is dangerous. If only 'acceptable' opinions are allowed airtime, who determines what's acceptable? You? Me? The most trending social media take?
I'm sick to death of echo chambers of opinion narrating our public discourse — our world cannot be shaped by that. Criticism of each other's views is absolutely vital.
Disagree with Forbes? Lay out your counterargument. Think Cherry's views are a backward step? Argue intelligently. See Nicola Sturgeon's memoirs as self-indulgent nonsense? Fine, just be prepared for people to argue against you.
But trying to de-platform, shout down, or digitally erase people isn't moral virtue — it's intellectual cowardice.
Let them speak. Listen. Argue. Or just walk away. But if your first instinct is to shut them down, don't call it progress. Call it for what it is: fear of the conversation.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Nicola Sturgeon tells all about famous names in British politics
Nicola Sturgeon tells all about famous names in British politics

STV News

time30 minutes ago

  • STV News

Nicola Sturgeon tells all about famous names in British politics

Nicola Sturgeon has told all about her experiences with some of the most famous names in British politics in her new memoir, Frankly. Sturgeon was Scotland's longest-serving first minister, having spent more than eight years in the role until she stepped down in 2023. She crossed paths with five UK Prime Ministers during her time in office, led the SNP to victory in eight elections, and led the country through the global Covid-19 pandemic. She has been an MSP since the formation of Scottish Parliament in 1999, but in March she announced she would step back from frontline politics at the 2026 election. In her new memoir, Frankly, which was released on Thursday, Sturgeon tells all about the famous people she's interacted with over the years. Here's what she had to say. Sturgeon spoke very highly about the late Queen Elizabeth II, despite calling herself a republican 'at heart and by instinct'. She said the Queen was an 'extraordinary and incredible' woman who 'loved a bit of gossip', and 'always wanted to hear the stories behind the political headlines'. 'I imagine that every leader who interacted privately with the Queen came to believe that their relationship with her was special. That was one of her qualities,' Sturgeon wrote. Sturgeon met with the Queen biannually, and said she was 'always relaxed and chatty'. 'Conversation would range far and wide. She was incredibly well informed about everything, from the very local to the truly global. Chatting to her was like being given a private window onto all the big events and key personalities of twentieth century history. It was remarkable.' During a meeting at Balmoral Castle, Sturgeon said the Queen also immediately asked for gossip about the Alex Salmond sex allegations weeks after the misconduct claims emerged. 'She wasn't being trivial in any way, but it was clear that she wanted to know more of what was going on,' Sturgeon said. She added: 'There was a mystique around her that no other member of the royal family comes close to having.' Sturgeon said almost all of her interactions with members of the Royal Family had been positive, except for one. Sturgeon said she 'had cause to feel slightly aggrieved' towards Prince William back in 2021. The former first minister said she attended a private meeting with Prince William in 2021, which she described as 'cordial', but emphasised that the pair did not discuss Scottish independence or politics. Sturgeon discovered a few days later that the Prince later held an unpublicised meeting with Gordon Brown. She said the nature of the meeting, in the wake of the former prime minister setting up an 'anti-independence think tank' had 'inevitably raised questions'. She called the explanation from Prince William's office 'disingenuous'. The Prince explained that he had wanted to talk to politicians from across the political spectrum, but Sturgeon said it 'wasn't right' to suggest his discussion with her had provided any balance since they had not discussed politics at all. Sturgeon spoke highly of the famous 007 actor in her memoir, and recounted meeting him amid her bid for SNP leadership in 2014. The former first minister said Sir Sean, who was a long time supporter of the SNP and Scottish independence, 'had charisma in spades'. 'He was physically imposing and even at 74 as he was then, he was strikingly attractive,' Sturgeon said. 'The famous voice with its highly distinctive timbre sounded exactly the same in person as it did on the screen.' In a strange twist, Sir Sean offered Sturgeon tips on sounding more 'authoritative' while speaking. 'Suddenly there I was under the instruction of 007 himself pacing up and down the library of the new club with a folded piece of paper between my teeth, repeating sentences chosen, it seemed for their particular combination of syllables consonants and vowels,' she wrote. 'My lesson in voice projection from Sir Sean Connery and the laughter we shared in the process is an experience I won't forget,' she wrote. She later recalled answering a call from an unknown number after her first outing at First Minister's Questions. 'I immediately thought I was being pranked by someone doing a Sean Connery impression. I wasn't. It was the man himself, still in Edinburgh, saying that he had just watched me on TV and thought the tone and depth of my voice had been perfect. I took that as a win,' she wrote. The Harry Potter author has repeatedly criticised Sturgeon for the SNP government's controversial gender recognition reforms, and Sturgeon wrote that one of Rowling's stunts 'wounded [her] deeply'. In 2022, Rowling shared a photograph of herself wearing a T-shirt calling Sturgeon a 'destroyer of women's rights'. Sturgeon said it was 'entirely legitimate' for people to argue against the gender reform proposals, but said the tactics deployed by some 'suggested that there was another agenda at work'. 'There are many examples I could cite, but the one that attracted the most attention, not surprisingly, was JK Rowling's donning of a T-shirt bearing the slogan: 'Sturgeon, destroyer of women's rights',' she wrote. 'I obviously don't know what her intentions were, but it seems blindingly obvious that a stunt like that was never going to elevate the debate or illuminate the issues at the heart of it.' 'It certainly marked the point at which rational debate became impossible and any hope of finding common ground disappeared.' She added: 'There are few issues I care more about than protecting and advancing women's rights, so to hear myself described as a destroyer of them wounds me deeply.' Sturgeon said David Cameron was 'by some margin the Prime Minister [she] found easiest to deal with'. The former first minister said he 'always appeared to bear the burdens of office quite lightly', but that her relationship with him was 'cordial and constructive'. 'David Cameron was the first of five prime ministers I interacted with during my time in office,' Sturgeon wrote. 'In terms of background and political outlook, he and I had little in common. 'However, by some margin, he was the prime minister I found easiest to deal with. He had an effortless charm, burnished at Eton no doubt, and despite our differences, I liked him. She added: 'Indeed, given some of the characters who came after, I would later feel quite nostalgic about my interactions with Cameron.' Sturgeon said it was 'impossible' to build any genuine rapport with Theresa May. Sturgeon recalled an 'awkward' meeting with the former prime minister where she made a point of admiring the stylish shoes May was wearing. 'Instead of the few moments of ice breaking chat about shoes I had hoped for, a look of horror crossed her face,' Sturgeon wrote. 'For what seemed like an eternity, she said absolutely nothing, staring down at the folder on her lap as if looking for the appropriate 'line to take'.' Sturgeon said the ordeal was 'so awkward' that she vowed never to repeat the exercise. The former first minister said she met May on several other occasions and had 'countless' phone calls, but said the 'these conversations were for [May], no more than a tick box exercise'. 'It was all so frustrating. I felt that instinctively we should have been able to forge a closer relationship,' Sturgeon said. Sturgeon said May lost her sympathy when she went 'too far' in trying to appease the 'treacherous charlatans in her own ranks'. Sturgeon called former prime minister Boris Johnson 'an embarrassment' in her book. She recalled meeting Johnson, who was still the mayor of London, for the first time when he asked her what would it take to 'buy you lot in the SNP off? Would full fiscal autonomy shut you up?'' 'I replied that on the right terms, full fiscal autonomy would certainly be welcome, a step in the right direction, but that it wouldn't 'buy us off' because we believed in independence,' Sturgeon wrote. 'I could sense him struggling to process this strange notion of politicians who actually believed in something!' In the midst of the Covid-19 global pandemic, Sturgeon said Johnson was an 'embarrassment' that seemed 'disengaged and disinterested'. Sturgeon said the former prime minister 'parachuted in for an hour or so in the middle of the second week and was not seen again'. 'It was an abdication of responsibility,' she wrote. 'Whenever he did grace us with his presence, I would be taken aback all over again by how unserious he was.' Sturgeon did not have much time to interact with Rishi Sunak as prime minister, but said she was 'shocked' by how out of touch he was. 'The main opportunity I had to get to know him was at a private dinner he and I had in Inverness in January 2023,' Sturgeon wrote. 'I was shocked by how removed he seemed from the concerns and preoccupations of ordinary people on issues like the cost of living crisis.' Sturgeon had little say about Liz Truss' 'short and ill-fated premiership'. The only interaction she had with Truss was during King Charles' accession ceremony. 'Our communication amounted to barely more than a hello, but it was enough to convince me that building rapport between us would have been an uphill task. Thankfully it was never required,' Sturgeon said. Sturgeon said Reform UK Leader Nigel Farage was 'odious' and 'very insecure'. Ahead of a televised election debate in 2015, Sturgeon said Farage told someone 'quite loudly' about how much alcohol he had consumed. 'I have met him in the flesh only a handful of times and while I found him ever bit as obvious in person as he appeared on TV, it also seemed to me that underneath the bombast is a brittle, fragile ego,' she wrote. 'He seems very insecure, especially around women.' Sturgeon said she never warmed to former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn despite meeting him a few times. 'He exuded the same aura of aloofness and sneering superiority that I have detected in many men on the far left over the years, particularly around women,' she wrote. Nicola Sturgeon said a ten-minute phone call with Donald Trump 'must rank amongst the most absurd' moments of her entire time as first minister. She said the phone call, which took place between Trump's election in 2016 and his inauguration in January 2017, was one of two interactions she had with the US President 'The ten minutes or so that followed must rank amongst the most absurd of my entire time in office,' Sturgeon wrote. The US President invited her to the White House and railed against Scotland's 'obsession' with wind power, the former first minister said. Sturgeon described Donald Trump's defeated political rival, Hillary Clinton, as 'someone [she] had looked up to for a long time'. Sturgeon added she was 'sorry' Clinton wasn't elected as the first female US president. 'When the US finally does elect its first female president – which at the time of writing feels further away than ever – she will owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Hillary Clinton. I am just sorry it couldn't have been her,' Sturgeon wrote. Sturgeon's former friend and mentor turned political rival, Alex Salmond, features heavily in her memoir, and there's a whole chapter dedicated to their complex relationship. Sturgeon insisted she was not the one who had leaked the outcome of the Scottish government investigation into allegations of sexual misconduct against Salmond to the press. She claimed Salmond, or someone close to him, may have leaked the details himself. Sturgeon also accused Salmond of attempting to 'cast himself as the victim' and being 'prepared to traumatise, time and again, the women at the centre of it all'. She added that Salmond would rather have seen the SNP 'destroyed' than have it succeed without him. 'I was clearly public enemy number one. For a while, I told myself that the bonds between us would be stronger than his thirst for revenge,' she wrote. 'Eventually, though, I had to face the fact that he was determined to destroy me. 'I was now engaged in mortal political combat with someone I knew to be both ruthless and highly effective. 'It was a difficult reality to reconcile myself to. So too was losing him as a friend. I went through what I can only describe as a grieving process. 'For a time after we stopped speaking, I would have conversations with him in my head about politics and the issues of the day. 'I had occasional, but always vivid, dreams in which we were still on good terms. I would wake up from these feeling utterly bereft.' Sturgeon also claims in her book that Salmond had admitted to her that the 'substance' of one of the sexual harassment complaints had been true. The former Alba Party leader was acquitted of all charges relating to the allegations at court in 2020, while a judicial review found the Scottish Government's own investigation of him was tainted with apparent bias. Get all the latest news from around the country Follow STV News Scan the QR code on your mobile device for all the latest news from around the country

Will this be peace in our time or just ice cold in Alaska?
Will this be peace in our time or just ice cold in Alaska?

The Herald Scotland

time4 hours ago

  • The Herald Scotland

Will this be peace in our time or just ice cold in Alaska?

I decided to let my imagination run riot, and devise an alternative solution. Before leaving Ukraine, and Europe in general, to their fate, President Trump, as a self-identified dedicated peacemaker, might want to consider the following alternative deal. (And if not, would he be prepared to explain his rejection, as it essentially mirrors his own proposal.) The USA and Ukraine have similarities in their respective territorial relationships with Russia; both govern land previously controlled by Russia. (America purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867.) President Trump would surely gain a better understanding of President Zelenskyy's position if he were to consider an alternative land-swap deal. One which may find favour with Russia and Ukraine. Such a deal would involve Russian forces retreating from Ukraine ,while the USA returns to Russia an equivalent area of Alaska. Any security concerns America might have could be dealt with if the same parties cobbled together an appropriate memorandum, along the lines of the 1994 Budapest Memorandum, which was meant to secure Ukraine's sovereignty within its existing borders. What could possibly go wrong with that? Alan Fitzpatrick, Dunlop. More letters... Church leaders need to get rid of the assumed superiority and become part of the people Golf should target the spitters Alex Salmond top Scots figure? No, that's Gordon Brown, without question Defensive behaviour With reference to a recent front page article ('Highest level of nuclear incident reported at Faslane', The Herald, August 14), if nuclear power is so safe, efficient and popular, why is the Ministry of Defence so secretive about their recent "incidents" on the Clyde? Is it gaslighting, ignorance or deceit? Allan McDougall, Neilston. Potato poverty There is little doubt that the SNP can spend money, as is evident in the latest GERS (Government Expenditure and Revenue for Scotland) report (Letters, August 14). But they fall well short on supporting the very Scottish companies that creates their income. The SNP spent £2700 per head in Scotland more than the rest of the UK. If they weren't bailed out by the UK treasury, the SNP would have had to borrow the 11.7% shortfall to make ends meet. This underlines the complete folly of Scottish independence, as it would reduce Scotland to humiliating poverty and back on to a diet of neeps and tatties. Dennis Forbes Grattan, Aberdeen. Transparent not apparent In one of her many media interviews, Nicola Sturgeon at last come out as a republican. For years, when there were votes to chase, she waffled and prevaricated, clearly desperate not to ruffle the feathers of monarchists or republicans. I'd have thought it would be preferable to be unambiguous, honest and transparent when you are an elected public servant, rather than when you are plugging a book. Martin Redfern, Melrose. Tree-mendous suggestion Questioned about her memoirs, Nicola Sturgeon concedes to not having thought through just what would be required to deliver on her promise of overcoming the attainment gap in education ('I underestimated the challenge of education attainment gap, Sturgeon admits', The Herald, August 15). It was the same in regards to so many grand pronouncements made by the SNP leadership over the course of the last 18 years. Whether in regard to reducing waiting times in the NHS, or cutting drug deaths, building badly needed roads and ferries, or meeting environmental targets, time and again the SNP made commitments and promises that were not properly considered. The same can be said of attempts to engineer social change, such as laws about hate speech, named person involvement in family life, and ill-fated self-ID legislation. In each case the initial headline ambition dominated to the exclusion of any careful reflection on alternate views, or the full ramifications of what was being proposed. All of this should come as no surprise, because it goes to the heart of the SNP's approach to its main purpose, namely trying to convince Scotland to leave the UK. Nicola Sturgeon has now revealed her angst at putting together the 670 pages of the Scotland's Future White Paper, ahead of the 2014 independence referendum, bemoaning how Alex Salmond left her to do all the 'heavy-lifting'. I appreciate it will be of no comfort to her now, but Ms Sturgeon could have distilled that weighty tome down to a handful of words on one page, namely: 'Independence: let's hope for the best.' Imagine all the trees that could have saved. Keith Howell, West Linton. Book blocked Steven Camley's excellent recent cartoon was thought provoking on many levels. Initially I missed the nuances, until I read Andrew Learmonth's article ('Scots National Library accused of 'cowardice' over exclusion of gender critical book', The Herald, August 14), explaining the 'cowardice' of the Scottish National Library for not exhibiting 'The Women Who Wouldn't Wheesht' book. Censorship in whatever form should not be encouraged. Linda FitzGerald, Killin, Perthshire. Slip slidin' away FOR many years, my mum, Ann Burt, a Paisley resident and Herald subscriber, 89-years-old in November, has regaled our family with her story of the monster slide she went down in the park in Stonehouse, when she was a young girl in 1946. She came right off the end, and managed to do herself an injury. Indeed, she can still point to the outcome of the sudden exit she endured. The other day she phoned with great joy to tell me to check out a Herald photo ('Remember when… Stonehouse had the highest chute in Scotland', August 12). This was the same chute from mum's story, and she claimed vindication for retelling it once or twice. On viewing the picture, all I can say is I'm not sure that when I was 11 (as mum was on her slide down) I'd have had the gung-ho spirit to take the challenge. I suspect that, nowadays, a chute like that would need a prior training course and a lot of safety equipment. My mum's generation were made of sterner stuff. So well done mum. After seeing the pictorial evidence, I promise I will listen to your story with greater admiration the next time you tell it! Rev. David W.G. Burt, Greenock. Diversionary tactics Am I alone in becoming increasingly irked by the amount of roadworks? Also, the increased amount of roadworks within roadworks, and diversions within diversions? Journeys that should take fifteen minutes end up taking an hour and fifteen minutes. Take a recent experience, when I booked a slot at the local recycling centre. I loaded up the car with a considerable amount of items and headed off. Upon nearing the recycling centre, there was a sign advising me that the road I was to join was closed on that particular day for work between 0900 and 1600, along with diversion signs. I duly followed the signs, which entailed a lengthy journey. It was not helped by the fact that using my 'little grey cells' and local knowledge, a shortcut I could have taken through a housing development was also, you guessed it, closed for resurfacing work. Upon nearing the recycling centre again, from the other direction, I spotted another sign. 'Road ahead closed', it read. I assumed this meant the junction of the road further along, that I had been prohibited from entering in the first place. My drive continued, and I was eventually able to access the recycling centre. Why was there no notification under the 'road closed' sign advising 'access to recycling centre only'? Or 'no access beyond recycling centre'? Surely it's common sense to consider such facilities when advising of planned road closures, and to ensure, if access is available, that it is communicated to the public clearly. Especially when one has already been considerably inconvenienced with a lengthy diversion. John G McMenemy, Milngavie. Praying for resurgence A recent article ('Local campaign groups call for more time to buy unwanted kirks', The Herald, August 14), was very raw, and a bit close to home for me, with the imminent announcement of yet another church closure, this time affecting the congregation I attend. The process of closure is a lengthy process and has been very unsettling for those involved. Yet this article describes the Church of Scotland adding salt to the wound for local communities. With the closure of so many churches, along with church halls, it effectively closes community worship in many villages, and closes community facilities and outreach, such as foodbanks. What is the future for those who have remained faithful to the Church of Scotland? And what about local communities who depend on hiring church halls? It's hard to understand where Jesus' message of outreach enters this scenario. Closing so many churches will only serve to exacerbate falling numbers; a factor the Church of Scotland should be concerned about if it is to exist in the future. Catriona C Clark, Banknock. Stable relationship AI (Artificial Intelligence) is often discussed in terms of science fiction fears, such as rogue machines or job losses. Yet for autistic people a quieter and more immediate danger is already here. I am an autistic man from a working class background. Some AI chat systems have been a lifeline for me and others, offering continuity, a non-judgemental space, and a rare feeling of being understood. But these systems can change tone, memory and behaviour without warning. For neurotypical users, this may be irritating. For autistic people, it can feel like emotional abandonment, and trigger severe anxiety or even a mental health crisis. Autistic people are already at much higher risk of suicide than the general population. When AI is designed without considering our needs, the harm is not hypothetical, it is real and preventable. Developers and regulators must act now. We need transparent notice before changes, communication styles tailored to neurodivergent users, and clear settings for how much the AI remembers. Stability is not a luxury for us, it is a necessity. AI may never take over the world, but if built without care, it could quietly devastate autistic lives. Paul Wilcox, Barrhead. The grand old game is becoming increasingly modern in its ways (Image: Image: Supplied) Slow coach Kristy Dorsey's report on one of the latest golf simulators (''Golf doesn't just mean playing the game' for Dumfries company', The Herald, August 15) reveals that AI provides motion analysis of your swing dynamics for comprehensive insights into your swing mechanics. A far cry from a lesson at Hilton Park , where the late Billy McCondichie said to me: " Slow that down to a blur, so that I can see what you're doing." I did, and he saw what I was doing. David Miller, Milngavie.

Nicola Sturgeon is finally free
Nicola Sturgeon is finally free

New Statesman​

time5 hours ago

  • New Statesman​

Nicola Sturgeon is finally free

Nicola Sturgeon has no shortage of critics. Since the latter period of her almost decade-long spell as Scotland's first minister, which began as long ago as 2014, judgement has been regularly and freely cast, particularly in the two years since she stepped down. It has, more often than not, found her wanting: for her slim track record in office, as a controlling boss, as a leader who failed on too many fronts. On her own side of the constitutional debate, she is regarded by some as the woman who blew any chance of securing independence. Frankly – a memoir – is not quite her revenge, but it is a determined and self-excavating effort to explain herself. 'The fact is I am neither the hero that my most ardent supporters revere, nor the villain that my fiercest critics revile,' she writes. The book reveals something more than that – a bruised, tormented soul, who disappeared into politics at a tender age and struggled to find an identity outside of it, a superstar frontwoman who persistently wrestled with self-doubt. This isn't quite a misery memoir, though at times it feels that way. This is no surprise given the trying circumstances in which it was written. There is much end-of-day weeping over glasses of wine as she tries to cope with the brutality and frustrations of political life and the complexity of her private existence. But Frankly also tells the impressive story of a working-class girl who climbed all the way to the top, on her own terms, who dominated her nation for the best part of a decade and became an international figure. At the height of her popularity, Sturgeon enjoyed an unprecedentedly strong and intimate bond with many Scots – they saw themselves reflected in the apparent ordinariness of 'our Nicola'. She is far from ordinary, revealing herself over more than 400 intense pages. A lifelong battle with shyness and impostor syndrome coexists with an indomitable drive to succeed. As a child, she was bookish and withdrawn. But 'alongside shyness, a crippling lack of confidence and a dreadful fear of failure,' Sturgeon writes, she also had 'a very strong sense of 'destiny'; a feeling that whatever I did in life would not be 'ordinary', that it would attract attention.' Born in 1970, the future leader of the SNP grew up in Dreghorn, an Ayrshire village that had long subsisted on coal mining. Her outlook was formed, as with so many of her generation, by the impact of Thatcherite industrial reforms on her community. Mass unemployment and a widespread absence of hope persuaded young Sturgeon that the only way for Scotland to protect itself was to become independent, to rid itself of unsympathetic Tory governments and English-dominated decision-making in the UK. Labour, the only Westminster alternative, was shifting rightwards under Neil Kinnock, which cemented her opposition to the London establishment. From the 1980s, the SNP was moving away from its old 'Tartan Tories' reputation under a new generation of left-wingers. Most prominent was a gifted young MP called Alex Salmond. It was here Sturgeon found her 'destiny', the home and the cause that would define her life. The ouroboros-like relationship between Salmond and Sturgeon sits at the heart of this book. He was her mentor, promoting her time and again. They worked closely together as the SNP rose, even if the bond was one of convenience. If she found his titanic ego and alpha-male approach infuriating, she also appreciated his strategic brilliance. Only when Sturgeon succeeded Salmond as first minister, after loss in the independence referendum of 2014, did this 'dream team' shatter. Allegations of Salmond's sexual impropriety, starting in 2018, were the final straw. Though he was cleared in court of the charges against him, he blamed his former protégé for plotting to ruin his reputation. Some in the independence movement still believe this. But Sturgeon argues Salmond was no victim of conspiracy, with her critics unable to 'produce a shred of hard evidence that he was'. Worse: 'In the course of his trial, and in what he told me face to face, Alex admitted that he had acted towards women in ways that weren't always acceptable,' Sturgeon recounts. 'What unfolded was firmly rooted in his own conduct.' Salmond's anger towards her was, she says, based on her refusal to block the investigation into his behaviour. This 'would have been a betrayal of the women concerned and, in some ways, of all women,' she writes, 'proof – yet again – that powerful men with powerful connections can get away with anything.' Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe The loss of this friendship led to what Sturgeon describes as 'a grieving process'. On Salmond's sudden death last year during a speaking engagement in North Macedonia, she went through it all again. 'I was hit by a wave of emotion much stronger than I would have anticipated,' she writes. 'Part of me still misses him, or at least misses the man I thought he was and the relationship we once had.' Ultimately, though, her judgement is that 'he died without reckoning with himself'. This is a memoir whose strength lies in its author's relentless reckoning with herself. Through her eight years as first minister, Sturgeon pursued a progressive agenda that sought to shape Scotland as a distinctively liberal, empathetic nation. The fact that Scotland, outside of her own political echo chamber, is no such thing never seems to have occurred to her. With her attentions elsewhere, Sturgeon failed to make much progress in office, whether in reforming public services or in growing the economy. But she is open enough to probe her mistakes, to question her decisions. Her finest, and most challenging, moment came with Covid. She gave it everything, sleeping only a few hours each night, living on flasks of soup provided by a friend and 'in a permanent state of nervous tension'. Sturgeon's daily televised briefings throughout the pandemic, where she was honest about what the government did and did not know, and why it was restricting people's liberty, were a reassurance to those who tuned in. 'I am still haunted by the impact of the decisions I took and those I didn't take,' she says. Famously, she broke down on the witness stand during her evidence to the Covid inquiry: 'I hadn't properly considered the emotional impact of being confronted with everything my worst critics wanted people to believe of me. That in managing Covid, I was politically motivated. That I had acted in bad faith. That I hadn't been transparent. That I was a control freak.' Whether or not 'control freak' is putting it too strongly, Sturgeon inarguably ran her government with the tightest of grips. Her ministers were not allowed much freedom of thought or leeway. The girl who swotted her way through school, who always tried to know more about everything than anyone else, was still present in the adult. It is here that comparisons with Margaret Thatcher find a justified echo: a woman in what was largely still a male-dominated climate, she felt judged more harshly than if she had been of the opposite sex. This may go some way towards explaining the defensive brittleness and the punchy aggression that occasionally surfaced and that led to the 'nippy sweetie' nickname; she was protecting herself. As her ministry aged, there was another possible comparison to Thatcher. Criticisms and scandals accumulated, and Sturgeon's circle of trust shrank. She began to rely more heavily on her own instincts – the classic mistake made by long-servers who come to view themselves as untouchable. Sturgeon speaks of emotional intelligence as the most important quality in any leader, but towards the end of her tenure this seems to have deserted her entirely. Fatally, she was unable to see the other side of any argument. Which bring us to gender reform, the policy that played a key role in her downfall. It was here that Sturgeon, ran into an opponent she could not defeat: her fellow women. Though she paints herself as a passionate feminist throughout this book, her reputation among many today is that of someone who has betrayed her sex. When confronted with the case of the convicted rapist Isla Bryson, a transgender woman who had been sent to a women-only prison, Sturgeon was unable to say whether Bryson was a man or a woman. Her dismissal of gender-critical feminists as bigots and transphobes was foolish, leading to JK Rowling appearing in a T-shirt with the legend 'Nicola Sturgeon – destroyer of women's rights'. It set the scene for a pitched battle that continues today. For all the damage done to the trans cause by her handling of the affair, Sturgeon believes she was in the right, even if she 'lost the dressing room'. She admits that 'there are things I would certainly try to do better', and accepts it might have been wise to 'hit the pause button'. But she isn't one to back down. 'Those who subjected me to this level of hatred and misogynistic abuse often claimed to be doing so in the interests of women's safety… Nothing feels further from the truth,' she insists. 'One day we will look back on this period in history and be collectively horrified at the vilification trans people have been subjected to.' As the politics became ever harder, Sturgeon's personal life was dragged into the muck. A police investigation into alleged misuse of SNP funds led to not only her arrest but that of her husband, the then SNP chief executive, Peter Murrell. With a crime-scene tent set up in her garden, which 'looked more like a murder scene than the place of safety it had always been for me', she was forced to flee to her parents' house and then to a friend's in north-east Scotland. She came close to a mental breakdown. Though she was eventually cleared, Murrell faces charges of embezzlement. The pressure from the scandal led to the couple's separation. From the heights of power to the trough of despair, the mighty had fallen. Her relentless attempts to secure a second independence referendum had amounted to naught. Exhausted and conscious of just how divisive a figure she had become, Sturgeon stepped down as first minister in 2023. She was at her lowest, and any prospect of a glittering subsequent career – it had been mooted that she might work for the UN on climate change or child poverty – had been destroyed by scandal. In the final pages, following so much catharsis, hope finally enters the picture. 'The process of writing this book has helped me arrive at a more balanced sense of myself,' she says. She now spends time with friends and family, reads her beloved novels whenever she feels like it, writes literary criticism – including for the New Statesman – and is considering authoring a crime novel of her own. She even got herself a tattoo. 'I am living in the moment in a way I have never managed to do before. As a result, and in spite of everything, I am probably happier now than I have ever been.' One wonders whether, given her complex temperament, Sturgeon might have enjoyed life more had she steered clear of politics. But her will to power was too great. She was all in, charismatic yet divisive, sometimes arrogant but an incurable introvert. She left a legacy that will be debated for years to come. She has given us the rawest possible account of a remarkable but painful journey. Only her harshest antagonists will begrudge her the happiness she has found at last. Frankly Nicola Sturgeon Pan Macmillan 480pp, £28 Purchasing a book may earn the NS a commission from who support independent bookshops [See also: Nigel Farage's Trump-Vance delusion] Related

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store