Father of the Nation - a title this man earned and deserves

Its first sentence was: ''There shall be a Scottish Parliament.'' Donald Dewar read that aloud and proclaimed: ''I like that.''

He was entitled to a sense of achievement, hidden as usual behind a natural and engaging personal modesty, because he had led the long struggle of the Scots - divided as ever - on the road to their own legislature.

Mr Dewar motivated and mobilised the Labour Party when it was close to its strongest in Scotland in parliamentary numbers, but also at its most frustrated because of its inability to budge the stubborn anti-devolution Conservatives.

His reasoning was that the time had come after a century or so of Home Rule being denied for the perceived remoteness of the Westminster Parliament finally to be confronted. In that time there had been 37 failed attempts to put a Home Rule Bill through the Commons. Mr Dewar claimed his place in history as the man who succeeded.

He had plotted and planned for years behind the scenes and was at the side of his old friend, John Smith, when the former Labour Party leader, himself later to be denied the British premiership by a fatal heart attack, led his troops into the Scottish Constitutional Convention. It was a little publicised but epochal moment in Scotland's modern political history.

From that day on, Scotland was set on the road to Home Rule. All that was now required was the defeat of the Conservatives. When Tony Blair's government came to power, the ''unfinished business'' talked of by John Smith was immediately taken in hand by Mr Dewar, who daringly produced his White Paper and later the Scotland Bill which went much further than had been anticipated.

Mr Dewar made sure the radical content of the Bill was secured by the simple device of turning convention on its head. Instead of listing the powers which the Scottish Parliament would inherit from Westminster, he listed the powers which MPs in London could retain - and he made sure there was no role for an interfering second chamber, especially one which was based on bloodlines and undemocratic privilege.

In the weeks which followed the White Paper, he was uncompromising on the contents, refusing all but the most marginal changes during its progress through the Commons.

When the Scots went to the polls in 1999, they voted for the rebirth of an ancient nation, as Mr Dewar put it. His personal standing across Scotland ensured that Labour became the largest single party and he emerged as the obvious choice as First Minister.

His speech at the subsequent formal opening by the Queen was a stunner, probably the finest of his life. Mr Dewar's great eloquence was famous, despite his characteristic humming and hawing.

His love of language and fondness for the neat phrase makes him not just a distinctive orator, except when forced to respect an autocue, but a figure held in genuinely deep trust and affection, even by his opponents.

Very few Scottish politicians have achieved such a rapport with the electorate. Even fewer would dispute the view that Mr Dewar deserved his soubriquet of the Father of the Nation.

His great mentor was Hugh Gaitskell. As a student at Glasgow University he had sat - literally - at Gaitskell's feet as the then Labour leader explained his own brand of social democracy.

As a product of a middle-class Glaswegian home, Mr Dewar had gone to Glasgow Academy where, he would later recall, he was not always happy, being rather a lonely figure, but even then he was already finding politics absorbing.

Sometimes in later life, when he talked of his love of Glasgow, and its West End in particular, he would defend himself against accusations that he was something of a political dilettante, not really a product of the Scottish Labour's working-class support.

But he never pretended to be a red-blooded socialist. Frequently, he denied he was a ''passionate'' politician - he disliked the description - preferring the pragmatic route to his objectives.

But even his critics never denied his commitment.

After university, he practised as a solicitor but became bored with the prospect of law as a career. His political interest took him eventually to Aberdeen in the General Election of 1966 when Harold Wilson's government was returned after its breakthrough with a tiny majority two earlier.

He duly won Aberdeen South - where he had failed previously - but his career was severely shaken when he lost the seat and he had to face life outside the Commons which he had come to adore, not least because in 1967 he had been appointed Parliamentary Private Secretary to Tony Crosland, another of his heroes.

The following year was a miserable time for Mr Dewar. Not only was he out of Parliament, but he had to cope with a broken marriage and an illness which left him with recurrent back pain.

In 1978, he returned to Parliament via Glasgow Garscadden, where he had to fight off a ferocious assault by Labour's Militant Tendency which was then in full cry.

With his usual and much-mocked tendency to pessimism in elections, he wondered aloud about impending defeat, but he won the day and has remained in the Commons ever since.

In 1980 in Opposition, he began a two-year stint as chairman of the Commons Select Committee on Scottish Affairs and a year later he was appointed to Labour's Front Bench, gaining election to the Shadow Cabinet in 1984.

From 1983 to 1992, he was Opposition spokesman on Scottish Affairs, the period in his career where he became a household name. Later, he spent three years as Shadow Minister for social security, but his heart was always in the politics of Scotland.

This preoccupation with Scottish as distinct from British politics earned him a reputation as something of a cultural nationalist - another phrase which caused him to affect shock - but there is no doubt he was seen by his colleagues in London as a Scot first, and a British politician second.

When he defended the Union, as he did all his life, he became riled when he was described by opponents as a Unionist.

In 1995, Tony Blair appointed him Opposition Chief Whip, a job to which some said he was not best suited because of his respect for the civilities of Commons life.

When Labour won the 1997 General Election, he was duly given the job of Secretary of State for Scotland by Tony Blair. Mr Dewar immersed himself in the job, working so hard that he alarmed colleagues.

At one point, he was known to complain privately that he loved the job so much but found it so demanding that he could not enjoy it. It was around that time that those close to him began to be aware of his increasingly fragile health and his unrelenting work rate.

As Secretary of State, he steered the Home Rule referendum through to a triumph for the Yes-Yes campaign, winning convincingly on both votes and ending for ever the argument by devolution's opponents that the failed 1979 poll was a just reflection of Scottish opinion despite the notorious 40% rule.

In the 1997 campaign - almost killed off by the tragic death of the Princess of Wales - Mr Dewar had the support of the SNP, which was quick to claim credit for its role in the success.

But as First Minister, the pressure began to become oppressive, because he had the unprecedented experience of having to face a chamber containing a dedicated and unrelenting Nationalist Opposition.

In his exchanges with his opponents, Mr Dewar has argued with his usual elegance but it was obvious he was becoming frequently rattled. To outsiders, it became apparent that he was driving himself too hard and showing a reluctance to delegate.

Whenever his own Ministers became embroiled in controversy, he had to ride to their rescue. It was an open secret that he was becoming disenchanted with his role but felt he had to soldier on because none of his colleagues is his outstanding successor.

Increasingly, he had to take his eye off the Executive's best-laid plans in health and education to defend Labour's standing on issues which proved unexpectedly controversial, such as fox-hunting or Section 28.

His personal role in the selection of the Holyrood site for the new Scottish Parliament and the resultant scandal of its soaring cost probably damaged Mr Dewar's reputation, causing a dip in his personal popularity ratings.

But throughout the heaviest pressures, he kept his distinctive humour, using his deadly wit to unsettle opponents in the chamber and to entertain wider audiences. Following an after-dinner speech by Donald Dewar is reputed to to be the hardest challenge in Scottish politics.

Earlier this year, his health problems could no longer be ignored and he entered hospital for major heart surgery from which he has never fully recovered.

In recent times, he has become noticeably frail, leading to widespread suspicion that he had returned to his punishing work schedule too soon. Scotland today will reflect upon its stricken First Minister with huge affection. For he championed and extended this nation's democracy, transforming its politics.

Donald Dewar is a man famous for his civility and popular for his personable eccentricities - his famous appetite which earned him the nickname of The Gannet; his talent for misplacing coats, of which has reputedly lost dozens; his bouts of political pessimism; his refusal to bow to the political image makers; his love of literature; and his pride in his deep knowledge of all things Scottish.