AS they sought to convince us that all would be well in an independent Scotland, the SNP’s big heart did a lot of the heavy lifting. This party seemed to have discovered the Golden Mean of political engagement: they had a way of appealing over the heads of the political classes to convey a sense of kindness and compassion. In the age of empathy and inspirational messages on social media the nationalists communed with the spirit of the age.

It might not quite have been pictures of the sun bursting through clouds with messages like “let your heart turn the world’s mince into a nice lamb casserole” that startle you on Facebook from time to time. But this party, you know: they mean so well and they look as though they actually care about stuff.

When bumps and wrinkles appeared in the journey, like the annual GERS figures carrying with them the spectre of a fiscal black hole, the SNP was able to empathise the sting from them. This may seem a shallow approximation of the party’s approach on these occasions but it’s really not.

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Since the dawn of democratic, civic engagement political parties have searched in vain for this elixir. You can have all the numbers in the world marching in time to your message but in this millennial Age of Aquarius if you don’t have human, sensory appeal then you’re up the junction without an incense stick.

It helped, of course, that a family of sociopaths had moved in next door at Westminster. There you are inviting the neighbourhood children in to see the new Labrador puppies while the family next door are training their mutt for midnight dog-fighting contests in derelict railway sidings.

Even the Tories’ own leaders expressed alarm at all the ASBOs they were collecting. “You know what some people call us: the Nasty Party,” said Theresa May once. But, as Sir Keir Starmer is currently demonstrating, if you can’t beat them, join them and within a few years, Mrs May was ushering in the hostile environment that led to the Windrush scandal.

As the Tories were being hollowed out by their scarecrows and knuckle-draggers, the SNP merely had to look kind and compassionate. Thus the politics of the baby-box emerged, carrying with it all the accouterments of a tender, rainbow state with its heart in the right place. Smacking was banned and a scheme was hatched to provide every child with a state guardian just in case the parents, you know … fell down on the job.

In Nicola Sturgeon, Scotland had its own empathy queen who, on gaining the leadership of the country, embarked on a two-year, selfie tour of Scotland like a latter-day Eva Peron. This woman, it seemed, could no wrong as she exuded kindness, warmth and an uncanny sense of kinship with women – especially women - across all generations.

And then you recall the words of the Tin Woodman in L Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz which seem subversively to both reinforce and convict. “You people with hearts, have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful.”

Those of us who dwell inside Scotland’s political crucible delude ourselves into believing that the world we inhabit matters beyond social media. That somehow, the multitudes menaced by unemployment and health inequality are transfixed by the casual eviscerations politicians and journalists inflict on one another.

The Herald: Joanna CherryJoanna Cherry (Image: Newsquest)

The SNP’s committed party loyalists have taken refuge in this as the Alex Salmond inquiry has unfolded and while the gender debate rages among activists. “Ordinary people don’t care about which politician said what to whom and where,” they say, “they all think Nicola is doing a great job during the pandemic.”

Until a week or so ago they’d have been correct. But you sense in recent days, something – almost imperceptible – has begun to twitch. Research by Savanta Comres for The Scotsman has indicated a fall in support for Scottish independence for the first time in three months. Certainly, it still points to majority Yes support once undecideds are stripped out but it’s worth considering if there’s been a shift in the wind direction, a hint of something more seriously climactic beyond the horizon.

A suite of stories have gathered around these numbers, such as Jim Sillars conveying disgust at Humza Yousaf’s Hate Crime Bill to the point where he can no longer support the party. Meanwhile, so incompetent and obfuscating, at best, has the Scottish Government and civil service been at the Salmond inquiry that you sense the public is now actually stopping to have a look.

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An overall impression is being conveyed here of an organisation that wants you to believe it feels your pain has now actually begun to inflict it. Nowhere has this been more apparent than the campaign of misogynistic abuse directed towards Joanna Cherry which has driven her, in her own words, to consider quitting politics entirely (at least the Tories were only nasty to people outside the party).

This culminated in an alleged threat of rape by a man after Nicola Sturgeon effectively set the hounds loose with a remarkably ill-judged statement about transphobia in the SNP. Worse, some female members say the SNP is no longer a place where many women feel safe. Even more remarkably, Mr Yousaf’s proposed hate legislation risks criminalising women in Scotland for stating that while gender may be fluid, sex is binary.

Of all the stories indicating that this sewer running underneath the SNP has now broken the surface there is one sadder than all the rest. It’s the revelation that, more than a week after Ms Cherry revealed the latest abuse she has suffered, her leader and fellow feminist Nicola Sturgeon can’t bring herself to offer her support.

This party has lost its heart and without this it has little else to offer.

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