The SNP in Perth: Campervans and the 'hate monster'

Perhaps the paucity of male, white, working-class 18-30 year olds here – the cohort Plod Scotland deems to be the country’s most hate-filled demographic – means there’s no requirement to hammer the message home.

And so I embark on an undertaking to solicit opinions among the delegates and elected members about this baleful beast of the police’s vivid imagination.

“I was hoping to see the Hate Monster here,” I tell a party adviser, “you know: just to drive home the message.”

She’s having none of it though.

“It’s not really what people on the doorsteps are talking about,” she says. “It’s only us in the political bubble who obsess about it.”

MORE FROM KEVIN McKENNA:

• Scarily stupid Police Scotland campaign deserves a real monstering 
• 'Robert Burns should be on every curriculum', says Gerry Curruthers 
• Workers need a hero like miners' leader Mick McGahey

It’s a reasonable enough point, I concede, but the punters will start talking about it if they’re getting lifted for saying beastly things after April 1 when her party’s Hate Crime legislation kicks in.

“What brings you to Perth,” says Stephen Flynn, the SNP’s Westminster leader. “Are you up here to cause some trouble?”

I like Mr Flynn.

He’s one of the very few politicians who can roll with the punches and not take it too personally.

Last year, after I’d been somewhat disobliging of him for taking selfies while feasting on a lobster thermidor, he called me.

I was expecting one of those short, sharp conversations which usually ends with the politician saying: “I’m not hurt; just disappointed.”

But he laughed it off and suggested we conduct an interview. Still though, there was a Tony Soprano vibe running beneath the chat.

Mr Flynn is known in this business as “an operator”. His Westminster predecessor, Ian Blackford still has nightmares of coffin lids being screwed shut on him.

Delegates at Perth Concert Hall on March 16 2024 (Image: PA)

Later, Mr Flynn will cause a frisson for being insouciant about the SNP’s camper van.

At some point in the future a quasi-religious cult will come to worship this indomitable Winnebago and ascribe miraculous powers to it.

Vast crowds will come to greet it as it undertakes a nationwide tour.

Mr Flynn flippantly suggested that the camper van could be commandeered by a squadron of the Tartan Army when they travel to Germany for the Euros this summer.

It was his way of shutting down STV’s overnight story that a group of “senior” SNP politicians had demanded that the indomitable charabanc be released from its captivity with a view to being sold to help put some colour back into the party’s depleted treasury.

Humza Yousaf is slated to start his speech to the delegates at 2pm but he’s running about 20 minutes late.

And so there’s time for a chat to an old acquaintance and his two friends who are active in the Scottish/Asian community.

We have an interesting exchange which mainly involves him asking me what I’m making of the mood in the hall.

“I’m supposed to be asking you that,” I tell him.

All three are thoughtful, articulate and smart. I tell them that this probably rules them out of ever being elected to high office in the SNP.

They don’t take the bait though; even when I tell them that their party has probably done more damage to the cause of independence than Labour and the Tories between them.

“Have you talked to Humza about this,” they ask.

“I’ve made several polite requests, but it’s not going to happen,” say I.

“Are you still backing independence,” asks Sid.

“Just, but it’s hanging by a thread,” I tell him.

“Let’s talk again,” he says.

In the main auditorium I count the empty seats. The space is probably less than two thirds full and I’m tempted to suggest that this indicates SNP support falling off a cliff.

This might be slightly unfair. With the Westminster campaign beginning to gather pace, many activists are already on the doors doing the donkey work required to ensure their supporters turn out on the big day.

The National Campaign Council isn’t really a party conference. It’s where the local party organisers and office-bearers – the men and women who oil this machine – gather to flesh out policy.

A quick scan of the room indicates a senior age demographic. These are mainly people for whom independence has been a lifelong pursuit.

There are very few of the performative, cheap suit millennials who throng the three-day events hoping for a place on the lists or making the sprawling Westminster and Holyrood payroll.

The people here today don’t expect recompense or recognition.

They applaud Humza Yousaf’s speech politely at the required pauses and occasionally pull themselves to their feet.

FM Humza Yousaf with wife Nadia El-Nakla. The couple are expecting a baby in July (Image: PA)

The First Minister is not blessed with the oratorical flair of Alex Salmond or Nicola Sturgeon, but he’s still very young.

You get the impression though, that he’s in danger of being over-coached. He does that thing where he lowers his voice to a whisper on the last word of a sentence to convey heartfelt sincerity.

You want to grab him by the shoulders and shout “just be yourself and talk natural ffs”.

I play a game of SNP bingo with some of my colleagues. This is where you win points for accurately predicting the five main themes.

In truth though, there’s usually only about three and Mr Yousaf dutifully ticks them off: Make Scotland Tory-free; Down with the Tories; Down with Labour’s Red Tories.

It’s liberally sprinkled with “independence” but rather fewer (as in none) clues as to how this will be achieved.

Later, Kevin Pringle, the First Minister’s main spokesperson will face a small flotilla of Holyrood’s stalwart political journalists who will try to tie him in knots over some of Mr Yousaf’s haphazard claims.

There are tens of thousands of Tories. Don’t they deserve representation?

What does he consider to be a victory in the Westminster election, given that the SNP will probably lose several seats? The camper-van is lurking in the wings, waiting for its moment.

It duly arrives with Ms Edkins of HM Mail on Sunday who drives it into the traffic. Are you really demanding its return, she asks.

Mr Pringle has put out so many fires for this party that his nickname should be Red Adair. Today is not his sternest test, though. There was so little of any real substance in Mr Yousaf’s speech and thus little to feed from.

Elsewhere, Mr Yousaf is trying to make a sharp exit out the side of the building and is reluctant to chat to another waiting group of journalists, citing the need to get back home to his young family.

They want him to comment on the camper van (who must soon require an agent at thus rate).

My Herald colleague, Tom Gordon helpfully suggests Scamper Van as an apt heading for the First Minister’s reluctance to do so.

The ears of Mr Matchett from the Scottish Currant Bun, prick up. And so do mine.

If no-one else wants it I’ll happily use it.