The walk across Edinburgh that took us only 301 years; In the

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, Oct 10, 2004 | by Alan Taylor

George Reid, the Presiding Officer, promised it would be "a day of quiet Scottish dignity." And so it proved. The International Arts Festival apart, the gnarled capital celebrates reluctantly, with just a hint of embarrassment. One caught a suggestion of this outside Parliament Hall, in the shadow of St Giles' Cathedral, as guests began arriving shortly before 10 o'clock for the start of the day's events. Men in hired kilts mingled incongruously with men on stilts, and the women wore suits of the kind suitable only for the Sabbath.

By their buttonholes you could tell which party they favoured. The SNP, as is their wont on such occasions, wore white roses in homage to Hugh MacDiarmid's "little white rose of Scotland". The LibDems wore yellow, their roses sourced - or so we were assured - from a florist who thinks Jim Wallace is a petal. The Tories chose green, a distinctly bilious shade. Labour, predictably, opted for red roses, though they were symbolically late in arriving. "It was," said someone with a civic chain draped around his neck, "ever thus."

At Parliament Hall, the Queen arrived at 10.30 with a minimum of flummery, including a couple of members of the Royal Company of Archers, a brace of Pursuivants, and two Heralds. State trumpeters played a fanfare, then George Reid addressed an audience of over 300 people, among them MSPs, provosts, diplomats and representatives from organisations across the country.

Addressing Her Majesty as the "Queen of Scotland", he referred to "a new page in Scotland's history" which would be turned when we left behind the splendid hammerbeamed roof made of Scandinavian oak, which is the only remaining original feature of the Parliament Hall, and arrived at "the most modern legislature in the world", ie Holyrood. En route, he said, we would encounter streets lined with "old soldiers and young carers captains of industry and people in their first job old Scots and new Scots." Contemporary Scotland, he added, is "a tartan nation of many interwoven strands."

It was a theme picked up by Jack McConnell, the First Minister, but not before he asked for a moment's reflection "to pass condolences on behalf of the people of Scotland to the family of Ken Bigley, who has been so callously taken from them."

McConnell added that, after five years of devolution, "we are older and wiser. We have experience. And we have experienced highs and lows." In recent weeks, however, he had sensed that pride in the parliament was beginning to return. Having got to the top of the hill, Jack was now looking forward to the journey to the bottom. "It is just possible that the thrill of those early day has been resurrected in our new home," he said.

Nicola Sturgeon, leader of the SNP at Holyrood, was looking forward not to a new page in Scotland's story, but a whole new chapter. The words, she confessed, were not hers, but those of her boss, Alex Salmond, uttered in 1999 when the parliament was re- convened after a 300-year hiatus.

In the meantime, mistakes had been made and lessons learned, and we had emerged stronger and wiser. That said, she emphasised that "Of course, for many of us, a devolved parliament is not the summit of our ambition. We desire independence for our country." Whereupon there was a round of applause, though not from the Queen.

David McLetchie, on behalf of the Tories, cracked the first joke of the proceedings. "Five years ago," he said, "at the formal opening of the Scottish parliament, I said in this very hall that 'many of the people gathered here thought that they would never see this day'." He was not talking about mortality, but the completion of the Holyrood building. But, magnanimously, he refused to indulge in recrimination. It was time to move on, he said, and he paid tribute to "the skills and herculean labours of all those involved in the construction of this iconic and unique building."

He added: "As a patriotic Scot, it is a matter of real regret to me that our parliament has become a source of shame when it should have been a source of pride. One thing is clear - we've spent the last five years building offices for the Scottish parliament. We must spend the next five years building respect for the Scottish parliament."

Robin Harper, the leader of the Scottish Greens, also described the parliament building as "iconic". Speaking with the passion of a man with drama in his blood, he regretted leaving the "hustle and bustle" of the Old Town for "quieter surroundings" at Holyrood. However, he hoped that the late Enric Miralles' "iconic work of genius" would inspire his colleagues.

It was left to Liberal Democrat leader Jim Wallace to bring things back to rude reality. "True, we may approach today's international football match against Norway with no more than cautious optimism," said Wallace, "but in so many ways Scotland is growing in confidence. Confident in our international relations, confident as a partner in the United Kingdom, confident in our own country."

As an RAF Nimrod flew deafeningly past, the participants gathered for a modern version of the Riding of the Scottish Parliament, which marked the annual opening session when lords, commissioners and officers of state proceeded from the Palace of Holyroodhouse to the Parliament House. First held in 1520, the Riding last took place in 1703. On this occasion it went in the opposite direction and comprised a cross-section of Scottish society, including schoolchildren, members of community groups, pensioners, religious figures, civic leaders, an Oscar-winning actor (Sir Sean Connery) and Hamish MacInnes, the mountaineer, who was kitted out as if for an ascent of Arthur's Seat.