Hansard

When it comes to major sporting events, legacy is one of the issues that we debate hotly, not least the equality strand of the trifecta that has been mentioned. However, if there is one thing that I can say with absolute surety about the 2014 Commonwealth games, it is that they have changed the definition of the Glasgow kiss for ever. I have marched in the name of pride many times and I know the feeling very well. I felt pride with every act that demonstrated not just the success of the games—for which we all owe so many people thanks—but our values of respect and diversity.

During the games, the rainbow flag flew from the Scottish Government’s headquarters, and the one Scotland campaign was launched with billboards everywhere. The Pride house flourished—not a last-minute, hastily permitted Pride house as at London 2012, but a centre that was a real focal point for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex participants and guests and for discussion, hosting more than 6,000 visitors. The hub received financial support from the Scottish Government, but what matters much more are the political support that was received and the legacy that it will leave.

At the opening night for Pride house, Shona Robison, the cabinet secretary, was there on behalf of the Scottish Government, and so too was David Grevemberg, the games chief executive. This was not an unauthorised sideshow sitting on the fringes; it was an integral part of the games. During the games, the First Minister, the Deputy Prime Minister and Ed Miliband all visited, too. There were selfies for everyone and, fortunately, no bacon rolls. On 29 July, Peter Tatchell, a man more noted for attempting citizen’s arrests of Robert Mugabe than being gushing, was fulsome in his praise for the Scottish Government. An activist who is used to mealy-mouthed statements and disappointment came to Scotland and found the real deal of commitment to equality.

At that opening night, we heard important voices from beyond Scotland and the west, such as those of Dr Frank Mugisha from Uganda, Monica Tabengwa from Botswana and Pallav Patankar from India. They were part of a series of links made by campaigners in Scotland, with the aim of forging lasting links between campaigners here and those in countries where legal equality on LGBTI rights seems a far-off dream. Scotland’s campaigners recognise the importance of having their work led by those on the ground in those countries and using the Commonwealth games and the shared experience and history as an opportunity to empower others.

Each day, in the run-up to the games, the Equality Network highlighted a Commonwealth country and the equivalent organisation there. That matters, because 80 per cent of Commonwealth nations have some form of legal persecution of people who are homosexual, bisexual, transsexual and so on. Millions risk their liberty or their lives if they just turn to their loved one and express their feelings. That happens today in the Commonwealth.

It is a sad fact that those anti-gay laws are, in the main, a legacy of colonialism and imperialism. That troubled history of domination and conversion has left many nations scarred, and sensitive to what could be viewed—understandably so—as an attempt to repeat that history through further lectures or domination.

Uganda’s LGBTI laws have been a rallying point for activists around the world, but although the country’s laws are the most severe, it is by no means alone. Calls to exclude Uganda from the games came from an understandable sense of hurt, but there are many nations in the Commonwealth—such as Singapore, an authoritarian dictatorship—whose records on human rights raise very serious questions.

The best way to address the issue was to do what we did: continue with our approach of inspiration rather than domination. Scotland has achieved a level of diversity that is vastly different from the situation during the first 11 Commonwealth games, when being gay was still a crime here.

We want to demonstrate the kind of Scotland that we are, that we want to be and that we are increasingly becoming. Although the law now respects all, attitudes do not always do likewise. Sporting grounds are one of those fields in which reports of homophobia are still strongest and most frequent. If we are to get all of Scotland physically active and participating, the LGBTI group must be understood and those barriers must be overcome.

I hope that one legacy will be the links that have been built between organisations in Scotland. In particular, I hope that the Scottish Government will do what it can to encourage the continuation of Pride house as a centre for the promotion of LGBTI rights, in sport and more widely.

The games will be remembered as the people’s games, as the friendly games and as a successful games—and as a progressive games, too. I am sorry that Paul Wheelhouse has left the chamber, because I was going to rib him, as a Belfast boy, about the fact that team Northern Ireland came one place below the hypothetical team gay in the medals league table.

An important record was set by team gay at the games. It was the first time ever that two openly gay athletes—Matthew Mitcham and Tom Daley—took both gold and silver, and stood on the same podium. That moment is, for me, made all the sweeter when I remember that it happened at the beautiful, refurbished Commonwealth pool in my constituency in the great city of Edinburgh.