How Peter Murrell reshapes Nicola Sturgeon's legacy

That sold-out rally marked the start of her leadership era, when she became both loved and loathed in a way that most US presidents can only aspire to.

Peter Murrell, who she married four years earlier in 2010, was the chief executive of the party. Together, they were a political powerhouse calling the shots in Scotland’s largest political party, the SNP.

But even as she addressed the euphoric crowd, Murrell had a secret. He had begun, a few months after their marriage, what would become a 12-year embezzlement spree using cash from the party that had brought the two together.

I watched that rise close up. I was in the Hydro as she walked onto the stage to a crowd cheering her name, and later across the pandemic years, when her daily briefings became essential viewing for millions.

I have interviewed the Nicola Sturgeon who seemed in complete control. When the cameras aren’t running she is chatty, funny and sharp. But I’ve also been on the receiving end of a telling‑off for asking a question she didn’t like. But once the interview began, she was unflappable, confident, and could take on any opponent.

The contrast with the Nicola Sturgeon now fighting to defend her reputation could hardly be starker.

The first items he stole were insignificant: two laundry baskets, totalling £70.89. But perhaps emboldened by his ability to get away with it, his offending ramped up, culminating in thousands of extravagant purchases including two cars, luxury watches and a £125,000 motorhome.

Ms Sturgeon has emphatically rejected any suggestion she knew what her husband was up to, stating she herself was a victim of his deceit.

Unfortunately for the former first minister, this is a line she will need to repeat for the rest of her public career.

At the height of her career, she led the SNP to eight election wins and made the party the most dominant force at Holyrood and the third largest party at Westminster.

It seemed, for a while at least, that she was untouchable. That image barely computes with the one sitting under caution in a police station giving “no comment” answers for several hours.

Ms Sturgeon’s popularity was already starting to slip before Operation Branchform, the police investigation into SNP finances. That is entirely common for a leader who had been in charge for so long.

The Scottish Government, under her leadership, had also taken unpopular decisions, fighting campaigners For Women Scotland over transgender and self-ID policies.

But her resignation in February 2023 still seemed out of the blue to many in Scottish politics. Before then, she had enjoyed approval ratings no other politician had come close to.

The sold-out Hydro crowd watches on as Nicola Sturgeon speaks. (Image: PA)

A YouGov survey published after her resignation found 50% of Scots still considered her to be a good leader, describing her as “determined, hardworking and intelligent”.

The most dramatic rupture in her public persona would come after her resignation, in April 2023, when her husband was arrested as part of Operation Branchform.

The blue forensic tent erected outside the front of their home near Glasgow is an image that will forever cling to the former first minister’s legacy.

It only got worse from there. Two months later, Ms Sturgeon was arrested in connection with the investigation before being released pending further investigation.

For almost two years, Ms Sturgeon existed in a unique kind of political purgatory: she was neither charged nor cleared and everything she did was weighed down by the dark shadow of Branchform.

She would not be put out of her misery until almost two years later, when in March 2025, police re‑arrested and charged Murrell, but said Ms Sturgeon – and former party treasurer Colin Beattie – were no longer suspects.

But that didn’t put an end to the whispers: what exactly did Sturgeon know?

Ms Sturgeon – who was not just Murrell’s wife, but his boss – has repeatedly insisted she had “no knowledge or suspicion whatsoever that personal items had been purchased using SNP funds”.

She also said she did not notice the large, luxury campervan parked at the side of her elderly mother-in-law’s home in Dunfermline over the years.

Peter Murrell will be sentenced on Tuesday (Image: Jane Barlow/PA Wire)

Consider again those three words the public used to describe Sturgeon after her resignation: determined, hardworking and intelligent.

The Nicola Sturgeon we see today is attempting to cling on to that description. But she is embattled, defiant and defensive.

Many people whose husband awaits sentencing for embezzling hundreds of thousands of pounds would retreat from the limelight. Sturgeon can’t – and won’t – do that.

Since Murrell’s guilty plea on May 25, Ms Sturgeon has been all across the UK and Ireland promoting her memoir.

The Sturgeon we see now, is one fighting for her political survival. She cannot simply retreat into the shadows. To do that, would be to give in to the critics who believe she has something to answer for.

Ms Sturgeon told the BBC’s Laura Kuenssberg: “I feel like I’m serving a sentence for a crime I did not commit.”

She added: “I will take responsibility for the things that I do, the decisions I make, but I am not responsible for the crimes that my former husband committed.”

Twelve years on from that rockstar rally at the Hydro, Sturgeon still packs out halls. But it’s not just her adoring fans. Inside those rooms are people who want to know every ugly detail of Murrell’s scandal.

Just last week, Ms Sturgeon was at the Borders Book Festival, held in Harmony Garden, in Melrose.

There, ticketholders accused her of having a “Jekyll and Hyde personality”, and she became frosty when some in the 550-strong crowd asked her about Murrell.

One audience member asked her: “Over the time you were with Peter, did you notice anything that indicated that he might have a compulsive, impulsive, personality disorder?”

Her response was matter of fact: “No, I didn’t.”

The Times reported that Ms Sturgeon then accused one member of the audience of being a journalist after she asked about why Murrell had loaned the SNP £107,000.

Ms Sturgeon is also reportedly working on a new chapter of her memoir, which will cover the fallout of Operation Branchform. So while she seems to be fed up of addressing Murrell’s crimes, she’s giving the people what they want.

When she announced her resignation in February 2023, many expected her to move swiftly into a UN or global advocacy role. She has recently become chair of refugee charity Safe Passage. But the height of her post-politics ambition is being restricted by the Branchform saga.

Police Scotland has cleared her. Her estranged husband has not yet been sentenced, but has confessed to embezzling hundreds of thousands of pounds from the party she led.

Somewhere between those facts sits the question that now defines her: how could the most meticulous, and politically capable, politician of her generation have seen so little, and known even less, of what was happening in her own party?

Whether history concludes that Ms Sturgeon is indeed serving a sentence for someone else’s crime, or simply paying the price for a system that she built and failed to control, will decide how she is ultimately remembered.