Criminals like Peter Murrell flourish under Groundhog Day of tribalism

The way Sturgeon has shrunk from scrutiny as the extent of Peter Murrell’s malfeasance has been revealed, suggests this was less a literary lapse and more a modus operandi. Aware of what was coming, she wanted to set a pre-emptive tone; to place her husband’s embezzlement of hundreds of thousands of pounds of SNP funds in the context of her trauma rather than her shortcomings.

If so, it has backfired. No-one wants to know how much Murrell’s betrayal upset her, now. What they want to know is how this act of gross dishonesty could have been perpetrated for 16 years under her roof. What they want is for her to own her failings.

Instead, she has spent the days since Murrell’s guilty plea issuing “nothing to see here” statements through her solicitor, while continuing to flog her book at literary festivals. Pursuing her to the kitchen of the hotel where one Irish event was being held, as Sky reporter Connor Gillies did, was both needlessly aggressive and futile; but no more futile than expecting her to be held to account at an event which cost 20 Euros to attend and which was geared towards self-promotion.

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What the audience got for their money was more wallowing. “This has been the worst week of my life,” Sturgeon said, and I don’t doubt it. But it would be easier to sympathise with her plight were she more ready to acknowledge the part she played in it. It was her decision — against the advice of others — to allow Murrell to stay on as chief executive when she became First Minister. It was she who, in a tone of contempt, shut down NEC members’ concerns about transparency. Where and when is the reckoning for that?

Sturgeon strategy

Over the eight years she led the party, Sturgeon honed a variety of strategies to deflect attention from her own mistakes: one was centring her trauma, another was the non-apology apology.

The most unpalatable for me — because it undermined something we both held to be at the core of our identities — was the way in which she used her feminism as a shield. Whenever she was challenged over the Scottish government’s inquiry into the initial harassment allegations against Alex Salmond, for example, she would give a little sigh and say: “Women: so often forced to pay for the behaviour of men.”

This was invidious because it is broadly true, but not what was happening to her. Rather she was being confronted over Scottish government mistakes which left the women who took a risk and made those allegations, stranded.

Now Sturgeon is crying “misogyny” again. No doubt there is some woman-hating in the pleasure her enemies are taking in her downfall, and in the language they are using to express it. And no, of course, wives should not be blamed for their husband’s criminality. But Sturgeon and Murrell were not just any couple; they were the two most important people in the party in charge of the country. With that comes a weight of fiscal expectation that does not apply elsewhere.

I can believe Sturgeon didn’t know what her husband was up to. They led busy, independent lives and had salaries large enough to absorb the purchase of expensive items without raising too much suspicion. She might have thought “Oh God, what has Peter bought this time?” without concluding he must be on the fiddle. But in Frankly she is quite clear: she prioritised his feelings about the potential loss of his chief executive role over the welfare of the party. If she hadn’t, the embezzlement could not have taken place, or at least it would have stopped in 2015.

Moreover, at the point the NEC members’ concerns were raised, she should have made it her singular mission to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, precisely because of the conflict of interest she had enabled, and its potential consequences. To suggest she has no responsibility for that, and to link that lack of responsibility to her sex, is a form of infantilisation that will do women no good in the long-run.

SNP complacency

In a Radio 4 documentary I made last year, Sturgeon’s former chief of staff Liz Lloyd conceded early rumours of financial impropriety prompted no urgency in the upper echelons of the SNP. I have spent a lot of time pondering why that was. Complacency, probably, from a party that has been untouchable electorally for the best part of 20 years.

But also, I think it is a product of the Culture War and the factionalism it has spawned. So great is the animosity between the two entrenched camps that no-one from one can make a claim without the other muttering about a plot.

Those who were making the most noise about SNP finances — the likes of Sean Clerkin, who was the first to go to the police — were seen, with some justification, as gunning for Sturgeon and interested primarily in the destruction of the party.

Their allegations were perceived — not as concerns raised in good faith by people passionate about good governance — but as a piece of shit-stirring by cranks with an agenda. Yet the motivations of whistle-blowers are largely irrelevant so long as the behaviour being exposed is real, not confected.

Ironically, this is exactly what happened with Salmond (but with the camps reversed); Think on this: many of the same people who believe Salmond’s acquittal exonerated him of all inappropriate behaviour believe Sturgeon, who wasn’t even charged, is as guilty as if she had pocketed the money herself.

All those posts about her “no commenting” when the right to remain silent is one of the sacred tenets of our justice system — what do they say about her fiercest critics, and where their values lie? At the same time, there are Sturgeon supporters who believe her name should be kept out of news coverage as if she was not the First Minister.

Like that old Chewing the Fat sketch, the independence movement has divided itself up into “good guys” and “w**ks”, whereas the truth is much muddier. Salmond and Sturgeon were both fallible human beings, who at times behaved in (non-criminal) ways that were beneath them.

Not owning mistakes

What is disappointing is how alike they turned out to be, each of them intent on presenting themselves as the victim, neither capable of owning their own mistakes.

Meanwhile, John Swinney, who is closer to the Sturgeon camp, continued in the “nothing much to see here” vein, downplaying the damage caused by Murrell’s embezzlement and insisting only party members were affected. Even leaving aside the fact that the police investigation cost £2m, what does this dismissal say about the way the scandal is viewed? It doesn't seem unreasonable to suggest a party that has no adequate oversight of its own finances shouldn’t be trusted with the nation’s.

That’s why I do believe a parliamentary inquiry into the SNP’s culture of non-dissent is important. It would demonstrate that the SNP understands how serious this matter is and how important it is to ensure it can never happen again.

But I think journalists and political activists of all parties need to take stock, too. Until we all stop dividing the world up into good guys and w**ks, instinctively attacking those on the other “side” , and finding excuses for those we perceive to be on ours, we are going to be stuck in a groundhog day of shabby, tribal politics in which criminals like Murrell find it easy to flourish.