Nicola Sturgeon, still only 44 years old, has been tipped as a future leader of the SNP for more than half her life. Speaking at her nomination meeting in Glasgow Shettleston back in 1992 the Nationalist politician Kay Ullrich made that prediction, as did scores of others when she became an MSP seven years later.
Refreshingly, Sturgeon has always been up front about the ambition to lead her party—“Of course I wouldn’t rule myself out," she told me in 2003—and this week she passed the final hurdle in order to do so, becoming the Scottish Parliament’s chosen successor to Alex Salmond as First Minister of Scotland (she was confirmed as SNP leader during the party’s Perth conference). To surmise that she is happy about this would be an understatement.
She joined the SNP’s youth wing aged just 16, motivated more by utilitarian concerns like Trident and inequality than standard Nationalist distractions like flags and anthems. "My conviction that Scotland should be independent,” she said in a 2012 speech, “stems from the principles, not of identity or nationality, but of democracy and social justice." In that sense Scotland’s new First Minister is a very modern Nationalist, a poster girl for the SNP’s oft-proclaimed “civic Nationalism” as distinct from that associated with historical grievances about Bannockburn.
Sturgeon’s political instincts are undoubtedly left wing, certainly more so than her predecessor’s, although often this manifests itself more in rhetoric than policy terms. For instance, Sturgeon maintains that free university tuition is “progressive” despite the fact that England, which charges for tuition, has improved access for poorer students while in Scotland, where tuition is free, that access has got worse. Nevertheless, when she talks about social justice and tackling inequality it sounds authentic rather than just a contrived debating point. Tackling inequality in Scotland is, she said in her maiden speech, her “personal mission.”
But at the same time, to depict her as an old-fashioned tax-and-spend lefty, as the Scottish Tory leader Ruth Davidson has already started doing, would be wide of the mark. Although recent policy shifts on property taxation—stamp duty in Scotland has been replaced with a more progressive Land and Building Transaction Tax—and the introduction of a cap on Help to Buy suggest a leftward shift, Sturgeon will also tread carefully. Ministerial office tends to require pragmatism.
The substantial coalition of SNP support Sturgeon inherits from Salmond is as fragile as it is broad, comprising an ideological mix of right and left, small “c” conservatives and radical left-wingers, from bankers to Old Labour die-hards. Sturgeon has already started protesting (perhaps too much) that she’ll be a “friend” to business, lest the impression build that she plans to bash Scotland’s bankers.
That said she’s likely to dump the very Salmondite policy of cutting Corporation Tax by 3p, preferring to focus—judging by previous speeches—on targeted cuts rather than a carte blanche approach. But that would still be a modest change. When it comes to income tax, Sturgeon generally subscribes to SNP orthodoxy that tackling inequality does not necessarily mean taxing the rich until the pips squeak.
Sturgeon, meanwhile, will certainly work hard as the new incumbent at Bute House, as did the outgoing First Minister. Colleagues describe her capacity for the endless graft of administration and leadership as “scary,” although there is little else competing for her time beyond an occasional play or a good book. She is, and has always been, absolutely driven.
But beyond her husband, party chief executive Peter Murrell (there is already grumbling about the likely dominance of that political power couple), and the MSP Shona Robison, there isn’t really an identifiable Sturgeon “kitchen cabinet,” which means she’ll have to work with pretty much the same team when it comes to forming her first administration.
Finance Secretary John Swinney is tipped to become Deputy First Minister, his centre-right instincts balancing the leadership in ideological terms. Politically and temperamentally the current Finance Secretary differs from Sturgeon, but at the same time they have an effective working relationship. He will be key to delivering Sturgeon’s first legislative programme, which may be a symbolically bold break from the play-it-safe Salmond era.
In personal terms Sturgeon possesses many of her predecessor’s strengths (not least, when she chooses to, considerable personal charm) but mercifully few of his faults (like him she has a temper, but it manifests itself sparingly). Civil servants, past and present, have nothing but praise for her ministerial skill, while her approval ratings with the public recently began to overtake those of even Salmond.
She will need all that authority to guide the SNP both internally and externally. Although thousands of new party members (membership has jumped by more than 200 per cent since before the referendum) looks like (and is) a blessing, it is also a curse. Many of them will be politically raw and driven by unrealistic expectations, not least when it comes to another independence referendum. Sturgeon has been indulging in Salmond-like framing of the post-referendum debate. Talk of last month’s referendum being a once-in-a-generation opportunity has been swiftly jettisoned, while the No campaign’s ten-point lead over Yes has been described by the new SNP leader as “narrow.” But needs to strike a tricky balance between keeping the flame alive and avoiding opposition charges of pursuing a “neverendum.”
Sturgeon has many other challenges, not least converting her (sincere) social justice rhetoric more convincingly into public policy, thus continuing the SNP’s long-standing aim of displacing Labour as Scotland’s dominant left-of-centre party. That intention is not unrealistic; a Survation poll published yesterday shows that Labour could lose all but 5 of their 40 Scottish MPs next May. In her battle for the general election, Sturgeon will draw on formidable political talents—for she is as much a product of professional politics as the Blairites she frequently derides.
And the immediate future, as Salmond observed in his resignation statement, is “redolent with opportunity” for the Nationalists. Sturgeon plans to “win” the next Westminster election in Scotland, meaning at least 30 MPs, while also securing her own mandate at Holyrood in 2016. Her former boss has not ruled out standing as one of those Westminster MPs. After that could follow an in/out referendum on the UK’s membership of the EU, which the new First Minister has strongly suggested could present an opportunity to revisit the Scottish Question. As Sturgeon put it in her first conference speech, the “prize” remains independence. “I am ready to lead us on that journey,” she told generally ecstatic delegates. Salmond, meanwhile, gave her his unqualified blessing in his farewell speech. "Your future contribution, I have no doubt,” he said, “will be to make history."