His Majesty’s House of Commons, there assembled at Westminster, is defined by division. It is its core, its leitmotif.

When MPs vote, the House divides, with members physically walking through different lobbies: signalling Aye or, to the contrary, No.

The Treasury and Opposition benches are two swords’ lengths apart. Frequently, combatants narrow that gap by leaning aggressively over the despatch box.

These days, few resort to cold steel. But the level of partisan indignation, whether real or bogus, is still striking. It thrills Commons worthies – and enervates observers.

And, of course, that is amplified by an election when nerves are raw. The prospect of losing seats and/or ministerial office tends to concentrate minds somewhat.

So there is much in this curious contest which is visceral. It affects everything, including the devolved Parliament at Holyrood.

Yes, our MSPs get on with the day job, for example enacting a statute to exonerate Scottish sub-postmasters, wickedly mistreated.

But always election bite. The controversy over Michael Matheson would have been acerbic in any case. That is magnified.

Douglas Ross, the Scottish Conservative leader, is thinking of voters when he condemns an SNP “shambles”. Ditto Anas Sarwar of Labour who accuses John Swinney of “defending sleaze.”

Mr Swinney says he accepts the sanctions applied to his colleague, while arguing that the system is tainted.

But he also takes the chance to excoriate the impact upon Scotland of Tory fiscal constraint and its potential Labour equivalent, which he describes as “austerity on stilts”. His rivals counter in kind.

So far, so familiar. And yet there is another note struck in this precipitous contest. It reflects two factors.

The first is generic. People generally want their elected tribunes to co-operate, to sit down and sort matters out, however implausible such common endeavour might seem.

The second factor is contemporaneous. These are exceptionally troubled times. Covid, the cost of living, a long backwash from the banking crash. The climate emergency. Gaza. Ukraine.

Against that background, our political parties seem to be setting out to project a sense of unity and also of comforting reassurance. Within limits.

Take taxation. The Tories signal downward intentions. But, otherwise, the talk from the UK parties is mostly of holding steady on income tax, national insurance and VAT.

For Scotland, the SNP has already hiked revenue from devolved income tax. Modestly, they say, for productive investment, with protection for the lowest paid.

Other questions arise for UK parties. Will fiscal drag from frozen tax allowances push up bills yet further? And how will the promised spending on services and infrastructure be funded?


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Unity. Reassurance. Glance back at the rain-soaked address by Rishi Sunak, launching the contest. He appealed to a sense of common endeavour by summoning up the Second World War.

Since then, he has built upon that by offering a diluted version of national service. Perhaps the ultimate blast upon the dog whistle of electoral politics.

In Scotland, Mr Sunak and Mr Ross offer a different pitch, aimed at the SNP.

They say the very foundations of this United Kingdom are in jeopardy – and the only way to strengthen the sub-structure is to vote Tory.

It is, of course, a rerun of the strategy pursued by Ruth Davidson when she contrived, for a while, to corral votes, which might have gone to other parties, behind a common Unionist endeavour.

Labour too is seeking to instil unity. Only they want the citizenry to unite under their banner proclaiming the single word, Change. Repeated endlessly in every speech and interview.

Listen more attentively, though, and there are a couple of caveats. Labour leaders speak of change to benefit working people. Entirely understandably, they are seeking to sustain their historic electoral base.

Aware, also from history, of Labour’s occasional weakness, Sir Keir Starmer offers a unifying slogan. Can we trust them, he asks? Yes you can, he replies. A conscious reference, I presume, to Barack Obama’s “Yes we Can” mantra from the 2008 presidential election. (The SNP, incidentally, say they used something similar in 1997.)

The Herald:

Again, in Scotland, there is a distinctive version from Labour. Sir Keir seeks to foster unity with supporters of independence. Perhaps the ultimate coalition of objectives and ideas.

He says there is “common ground” to be established. There may be differences about the “final end destination”. But there is a unified desire for “change”.

Now, this is faintly specious. Unionism and nationalism are not just different, they are fundamental opposites. Victory for one side is defeat for the other.

But I get the concept. In essence, he is saying “lend me your votes to kick out the Tories and then we can talk about the rest.” Again, pitched at working people.

Liberal Democrats say they can reflect popular sentiment without the baggage of the big parties. They rule out a pact with the Tories but are more circumspect about possible post-election talks with Labour.

And the SNP? They proffer unity in three ways. Firstly, they say voters should conjoin with them to defeat the Tories in the Scottish seats they hold. In each case, the SNP sit second.

To underline that, they argue that their stance reflects Scottish interests, by contrast with the UK parties. On the economy, on an NHS without further private sector involvement, on reversing Brexit, on protecting North Sea interests in that just transition to net zero.

And, of course, with independence. John Swinney has sought to turn things around. Instead of focusing upon process – remember the “de facto referendum” – he seeks to respond to popular concerns. The cost of living, public services.

But, as in the past, he simultaneously links his policy offers on these key voter anxieties with the longer-term objective of independence.

Once again, this is a single transferable endeavour. Sustain the faithful with images of independence, attract the wavering by talking directly about their worries and their woes.

Troubled times, most certainly. Requiring a more subtle approach than the customary squawk of “vote for me rather than that charlatan”.

And so the watchwords are common ground, shared objectives, reassuring initiatives. Amicable, appealing, non-threatening.

However, despite the comforting miasma of commonality, there are ultimately clear choices to be made. By you.