Electoral Swings; In part one of an exclusive autobiography extract,

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, May 23, 2004 | by Winnie Ewing

IT was wonderful for me to have the opportunity to open our new parliament. I was the first member to take the oath, which I took in Gaelic, and then I took the chair while all the other members were sworn in. Alex Salmond spoke for the SNP members when he formally objected to the wording of the oath, imposed by Westminster, and indicated that the SNP recognised the sovereignty of the people, not the sovereignty of the crown - a position that is clearly backed by Scottish constitutional law.

All the SNP members were wearing the white rose of Scotland, which brought to mind the poem by Hugh MacDiarmid:

The rose of all the world is not for me I want for my part Only the little white rose of Scotland That's sharp and sweet and breaks the heart Indeed, the sight of our parliament reconvening was so sharp and sweet that it did touch the heart. The galleries were filled with friends, relatives and onlookers. There were also moments of pure joy, such as when Susan Deacon's little girl Clare, aged 22 months, shouted out from the gallery at the sight of her mother below.

I must admit I had tears in my eyes then, and when Margaret, my daughter-in-law, now MSP for Moray, came down the left corridor into the well of the chamber to take the oath and my son Fergus - now MSP for Inverness East, Nairn and Lochaber - simultaneously came down the right one. They took their oaths together and I was very proud and happy to watch them from the chair of the parliament and to know that we were all being watched by Stewart, Terry and Annabelle in the public gallery.

My whole family was therefore present when - all members having been sworn in - I made my speech. I had promised Robert McIntyre, the SNP's first MP, years earlier that if I ever got a chance to be in a Scottish parliament I would draw attention to the fact that it was never abolished, but only adjourned. Now I had the chance to honour that commitment.

But although the parliament convened in early May, it was not formally opened and vested with its powers until July 1. The day dawned showery and somewhat overcast, but nothing could dampen the mood of the people of Scotland or their MSPs. The Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh and Prince Charles were all there and the crown of Scotland - the most precious one in Europe - was taken from Edinburgh Castle and carried in by the Duke of Hamilton.

There were fanfares, specially composed music and readings, including one by my favourite actor, Tom Fleming, who recited a poem by Iain Crichton Smith celebrating the three languages of Scotland. The highlight, however, was Sheena Wellington's singing of A Man's A Man during which she encouraged the MSPs to stand and join in the final verse. It was a sensational moment of unity and plain Scottish speaking, which typified the best things of our country.

I have to say that the Duke of Edinburgh looked most uncomfortable, particularly at the verse which goes "A King can mak a belted knight/ A marquis, duke and a' that / But an honest man's aboon his might / Guid faith he mauna fa' that".

The Queen's speech, which she wrote herself, was gracious, non- patronising and even enthusiastic in parts. The First Minister, Donald Dewar, also rose to the occasion with the best speech I ever heard him deliver and it was non-partisan for a change. Prince Charles, however, somewhat let the side down when he remarked to an SNP MSP about the white rose of Scotland, which we were all wearing again: "How fine to see you support the white rose of York!"

Outside, there was a procession of schoolchildren from across Scotland, carrying brightly coloured banners. I stood with Sean Connery and his wife, Alex and Moira Salmond, and many others to watch them all go past, then went out and spoke to the children from the Highlands who led the parade.

I then walked up the Mound with Sean to the reception and lunch in the Signet Library. There were huge cheers from people on the pavements and those who were "window hanging" in the old Edinburgh tradition. As we made our way up Sean said to me, "This is the happiest day of my life," and I must admit that I felt the same way. We had a parliament again. There was something in the air that day - a sense of optimism and hope that was virtually tangible.

The election of May 1979 was hard-fought again, and once again my opponent was the Conservative, Alex Pollock. I went to the count believing that I had probably won, perhaps with an increased majority. It was thus the strangest political experience of my life to find myself quite clearly winning every town and village with more votes than in 1974, only to be astonished by the late appearance of a huge number of postal votes from the RAF bases.

Normally, RAF service personnel did not vote in the constituency, though they had the right to do so, and wives only voted if they had the necessary residence qualification. This time something or someone had motivated or cajoled them to turn out and to defeat what was the clear will of the local community.