Why are the SNP demonising Angus MacNeil rather than listening to him?

Rather depressingly but entirely predictably, the party responded to his criticisms over their approach to independence in typically infantile manner by suspending him for a second time. They should instead be listening to Mr MacNeil rather than demonising him.

He tells me of an old Gaelic saying – “a friend’s eye is a good mirror”– and talks of the SNP’s need to ditch the rock-star mentality it builds around its leadership.

“There are a lot of good people still in the SNP,” he says. “Sadly, a few prominent individuals can’t see that they are culpable in contributing to Westminster’s toxic atmosphere. Some people have been indulged simply because they are part of a party ‘clique-ocracy’ and therefore deemed to be untouchable.

“I’ve been aghast at how some of my party colleagues at Westminster have openly mocked and derided Joanna Cherry in the Chamber when she talks about women’s rights. Other parties would love to have someone as clever and hardworking as Joanna, yet some in our party have sought to marginalise her.”

I tell him that his party is an open sewer where some of the most talentless and deeply unpleasant roasters in UK politics have found a home. He won’t accept my trenchant criticisms, even though, as always, they’re offered in a spirit of fraternal goodwill.

I feel moved to tell Mr MacNeil that the SNP has given too much responsibility to charmless chancers who think they’re starring in the West Wing or The Thick Of It. His problem, though, is that he’s still far too loyal to these people and doesn’t want to hurt their feelings.

He refuses even to indulge me in the new game that’s become popular in the political bubble: placing a tail on the campervan. He’s far too nice for this game.

The word is out

CENTRAL to Mr MacNeil’s frustration at the SNP’s direction of travel is a perceived lack of urgency at securing independence. This becomes evident immediately prior to elections when seats, salaries and pension pots require to be fought for.

At these times, the party’s professional wing suddenly begin stuffing their social media accounts with references to independence as they reach out to their customer base. This is when they suddenly remember why they were elected in the first place.

He tells me of an interesting exercise carried out by some of his Westminster staff. “They began tabulating who, between Nicola Sturgeon and former Scottish Tory leader Ruth Davidson, had mentioned “independence” more often.

“Ruth was leading by a factor of two to one. It was something like 14 times to seven times. Ruth’s were all negative, as you’d expect, while Nicola’s rarely rose much above tepid.”

Ruth Davidson

Try to be nice

MS Davidson has also had to navigate a torrid week. Following the announcement that she is to join Scottish Rugby’s governing board, a petition opposing her appointment has attracted more than 10,000 signatures.

Some rugger types have even threatened to boycott future Scotland international matches.

There’s a stench of bullying in all of this and it leaves me feeling queasy. Ms Davidson is no friend of the Diary, but she’s an excellent communicator with a genuine passion for the game.

Which is more than can be said for many of those who view Scotland rugby games as an extension of the Chelsea Flower Show, Wimbledon, the Henley Regatta and Glynde-bourne.

Some have even claimed that Ms Davidson is a divisive figure who will damage the reputation of rugby. I doubt that. She’s certainly no more divisive a figure than the House of Windsor whose multi-millionaire, deadbeat scions routinely lend their names to sporting patronage.

The Diary has had a lot of time for Ms Davidson, ever since she propelled us round the dance floor in an Edinburgh nightclub after The Herald’s fabled Politician Of The Year. We could tell then she liked the rugby.

Hairy situation

A CALL from a dear lady of the Diary’s acquaintance who asks if we’ve seen a story in an English paper about Jensen Button’s wife’s Merkin handbag.

It seems that this somewhat eccentric female accoutrement was worth many thousands of pounds before it got scratched in the business class of a well-known airline.

I falteringly ask her why pubic wigs have become so sought-after in the accessories sector.

Happily, for the Diary’s fragile constitution, we’ve got the wrong end of the stick once more.

The item in question was a Birkin handbag by the well-known designer and former amateur footballer, Billy Ermes.