THIS Wednesday, dignitaries from around the world will gather in London to bid farewell to one of the most divisive figures in British politics.

Baroness Thatcher's final journey to St Paul's Cathedral will be a state funeral in all but name, with full military honours and the Queen, along with several world leaders, in attendance. The cost to UK taxpayers is estimated at up to £10 million.

Without doubt, Margaret Thatcher's premiership was an historic one. As the country's first female prime minister, she demonstrated that gender need be no barrier to ambition, and that a woman is at least as capable as a man of running a government. She was also the longest-serving prime minister in more than 150 years. For these reasons, her passing deserves to be marked.

For many Scots who lived through the 1980s, however, there is a disconnect between their memories of the Thatcher reign and the reverential tone of many of the tributes made in the House of Commons last Wednesday, when Parliament was (unnecessarily, in this newspaper's opinion) recalled from its Easter break to honour the former PM.

According to Prime Minister David Cameron, Margaret Thatcher "made our country great again", and many of his fellow Conservatives concurred. The conspicuous absence of many Labour MPs – particularly those representing northern English and Scottish constituencies – spoke volumes about the divisive impact of Thatcherism on British society. MPs like Glenda Jackson (who spoke of a "heinous" reign characterised by "greed" and "selfishness") and Angus Robertson (who said Scots would never forgive the poll tax being imposed on them a year before the rest of the UK) have been pilloried for deviating from the celebratory mood, but the House of Commons is a forum for democratic debate and they were entitled to represent their constituents as they saw fit.

As former members of Thatcher's Cabinet made clear last week, the Iron Lady did not crave popularity. She was a conviction politician, determined to pursue her agenda even when facing fierce opposition within her own party. For her, politics and personality were hard to disentangle, so it is hardly surprising if anger at the impact of her policies is couched in personal terms.

Nevertheless, street parties held in celebration of someone's death are in poor taste. As NUS president Liam Burns said last week, paraphrasing the former PM's notorious declaration about society: "There is such a thing as humanity. There is such a thing as sensitivity," not least where grieving relatives are concerned.

That does not mean, however, that people should be prevented from exercising their democratic right to dissent and protest – especially given that the Conservatives appear bent on remodelling their former leader as the saviour of Britain, and using her legacy to justify further attacks on the welfare state.

Unlike Winston Churchill, who as leader of a coalition government united Britain during the Second World War, Margaret Thatcher's leadership wrought division in this country. For that reason alone, an elaborate ceremony with all the trappings of a state funeral is inappropriate, and while Britain's longest-serving prime minister should be remembered, her legacy must not be misconstrued.