How to train your dragon

Gordon Brown has spent the last couple of months crashing around the Scottish political landscape like some kind of massive hulking dragon.

The noise of the referendum reached deep into his Fife lair and awoke him. It drew him out of hibernation and now the residents of the Westminster village are feeling the consequences – he actually showed up. He is awake and he is angry; a dragon who hit hard times and had to sell off his pile of gold. He is also unpredictable, swerving between his natural Gordzilla instinct of terrorising the people of downtown Tokyo, and inventing a new constitutional settlement for the UK on the spot.

Brown sat there, granite faced, as if offering final proof to Alex Salmond that rocks can indeed melt in the sun, before freezing that way, mid drip, as the political winds changed direction.

Two weeks ago he sat impassive in the Commons as the debate on the future of devolution was discussed.

Led by William Hague – surely the most successful garden gnome to have ever entered British politics – it quickly diverted into a discussion over ‘English votes for English laws’ (no mention of the Welsh) with Tory MPs queuing up to demand an answer to the West Lothian question.

Brown sat there, granite faced, as if offering final proof to Alex Salmond that rocks can indeed melt in the sun, before freezing that way, mid drip, as the political winds changed direction.

On and on went the calls, while the SNP MPs, huddled together like a group of riotous schoolboys, interrupted repeatedly to ask why the big-name politicians were absent. They also inquired after Nick Clegg. Sadly though, our three heroes - the keepers of the vow - were absent.

The way the debate continued, an observer would think the referendum had been on the West Lothian question, with Westminster interpreting the No vote as a message from Scotland requesting less influence in the Commons.

Hague justified the move on the basis that Scots voting on English-only laws is undemocratic, before revealing that the change would not apply to the Lords, which, despite his concerns over democracy, would still exist.

But Brown’s silence was misleading – he was lying in ambush, letting the lesser minds wear themselves out before he pounced.

After all, he has made some pretty wild promises on other people’s behalf and he will be damned if they are going to break them. Finally he sprung to his feet, transforming from stony gargoyle into some sort of deranged, fire and brimstone priest, announcing: “What makes for a lethal cocktail is that the Conservative Party wants to devolve 100 per cent of income tax to the Scottish Parliament. This is not the nationalist policy or the Labour policy; it is the Conservative policy to devolve all of income tax to the Scottish Parliament and then immediately end the right of Scottish MPs to vote on income tax, on a matter as substantial as the Budget.”

Tearing into Conservative Party policy, he shouted: “If the Leader of the House will not speak, let someone from the backbenches defend the Conservative Party policy, which will split the United Kingdom apart. Who will speak up?”

 In public at least, the SNP contest for deputy leader has looked more like a bunch of polite semi-strangers, trying to force the last glass of wine on each other at a dinner party.

At this point, the former PM may be regretting not getting something more concrete established before the referendum vote. Actually, the British Constitution has always seemed a pretty hazy sort of affair, largely based on graffiti scrawled on the walls of the Queen’s toilets and scraps of Prince Charles’s finger painting, so it should not come as a shock that Brown’s timetable has been described as ‘written on the back of a fag packet’. In comparison to what we have now, the back of a fag packet is positively formal. 

Meanwhile, in Edinburgh, another big beast has caused ripples, with the First Minister’s imminent resignation triggering an SNP leadership contest. Admittedly, there was not actually any competition with Nicola Sturgeon running unopposed. But at least there was a contest for the position of deputy leader, with Stewart Hosie, Keith Brown and Angela Constance all declaring their candidacy. 

Each of the candidates has a different claim: Hosie would bring knowledge of Westminster at a time when the SNP wants to make inroads there; Brown has quietly secured backing from several other possible contenders, including Roseanna Cunningham, Margaret Burgess, Alex Neil, Humza Yousaf and Michael Matheson; while Constance has run on a platform of uniting the grassroots of the Yes campaign.

Constance is often described as the best dressed member of the cabinet, but that is to do Education Secretary Mike Russell a serious injustice – a man deserving of greater credit for bringing braces back into common use.

It was odd he chose not to run. He certainly does not doubt his own ability. In fact, it comes as a constant surprise that in real life – unlike on Twitter – he does not actually refer to himself in the third person, inserting ‘Mike Russell’ into his own speeches like an R&B artist mid flow.

But truth be told, the leadership battle has not been particularly electric – a world away from the sight of Miliband on Miliband in the Labour Party. In fact, in public at least, the SNP has looked more like a bunch of polite semi-strangers, trying to force the last glass of wine on each other at a dinner party.

Meanwhile, Brown, the one-man opposite of a polite dinner party, is apparently being urged by party members to run for the Scottish Parliament, in an effort to breathe some fire into the belly of Scottish Labour – an idea that should terrify anyone working in Scottish politics (assuming he showed up).

After all, it is one thing for MSPs to watch from a safe distance as Brown spits sulphur in the Commons, knocking out homemade press releases to declare his latest unilateral policy announcement, but quite another to have to deal with him head on.