Hansard

I thank members for the tone of the debate so far, which is a testament to how we as a Parliament are approaching the subject.

Like many others in the chamber, I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of abuse and prejudice for who or what you are. However, today is not about my protected characteristic; it is about another. I will open my comments by reading out a statement that has been given to me by a member of staff in the Parliament who is a member of a black and ethnic minority group. He cannot participate because he does not have the privilege that I have to stand here, but he wanted his voice to be heard in the debate, so he asked me to read out a statement. He says:

“Racism isn’t, or at least shouldn’t, be ... political. I, like many, have endured hate speech, abuse and violence from those who identify with all corners of the political spectrum and those who identify with none.

We’ve recently seen BAME politicians who have experienced the same kind of prejudice as me denounced, and the validity of their prejudice questioned more by the colour of their rosette than the colour of their skin, or because they don’t fit some predefined narrative of what they’re meant to be or say. We’re counting on decision makers to be a voice for all of us and long-lasting change depends on the ability of all of us to be valued equally.”

In response, I say thank you, and I commit that my input to the debate will respect those sentiments.

I will comment on a theme that has dominated headlines of late, which is the symbolism of Scotland’s past. In recent days, Sir Geoff Palmer, for whom I have tremendous respect, made his point eloquently about how we try to right the wrongs of the past. He said:

“if you remove the evidence you remove the deed ... The past has consequences and if we take the past down we may forget the consequences”.

I agree. I do not think that we can pull down every statue, change every street name or tear down every town hall or town house that philanthropy built, brick by brick, from the proceeds of trade and exploitation, whether it relates to tea, tobacco, spices or slaves. That is our uncomfortable truth—the buildings and squares that we sit in and enjoy.

We might celebrate or remember the pulling down of a statue today, but a class of schoolchildren in 50 years’ time might not. They will not ask, “Who is that man?” and “Why was he so wrong?” We cannot change the past by hiding it from the future. We cannot ask the First Minister to move out of Bute house because it was once the home of John Crawford. Future generations must be able to ask who Dundas, Buchanan, Glassford and Cunningham were in a way that I never did.

Sir Geoff Palmer is right: education lies at the heart of changing attitudes. That iconic image of Glasgow, the Duke of Wellington with a cone on his head, sits in front of the building that houses the gallery of modern art, which was built by William Cunningham, a tobacco lord who made his fortunes from the triangular slave trade. What have we done? We have turned that building into a beacon of light, art, modern ability and social maturity. We did not knock it down. We do not rip statues down; we stick cones on their head, or we stick them in museums. [Interruption.] I would like to make some progress.

That is what we do in Scotland. We face our gritty and dark past in the same way that we face darkness today. Whether it is Edinburgh’s new town or the mansions that litter the Clyde, these are physical embodiments of the Scottish enlightenment that also serve as reminders of the grotesque history of the wealth on which they were built. [Interruption.] I have a lot to get through in a few short minutes.

In my home town of Greenock, there is Jamaica Street, Tobago Street and Antigua Street. Let us face it—they were not named after exotic holidays, were they? In Port Glasgow sat vessels that carried much more than sugar cane on their journeys between Africa, the Caribbean and the Clyde. Even Greenock’s most famous and proud son, James Watt, was accused of profiteering from the slave trade, but his statue still sits in George Square to remind us of his place in the industrial enlightenment. In my view, Scotland’s yesterday is part of its today. The fact that it exists all around us is a daily reminder of it all—the good, the bad and the ugly.

As politicians, we are uniquely placed to have debates such as this one. It is easy for us, because we do not need to congregate in parks with placards. We have a voice and we are using it, but we must use it wisely because people will listen and act on the things that we denounce and that we permit.

The Government must make clear to people that it will not permit future mass gatherings of protest in the current pandemic, if that is its view. We need no reminder of the concerted efforts that we have made jointly in this Parliament to encourage people to follow health advice.

A debate such as this would be put to poor use if it was used to be partisan and pigeonhole. It would miss the point. However, I do not think that we have missed it. My opportunity today was not to say that black lives matter, but to make black lives matter. That starts at home.

“No blacks, no Irish, no dogs”

has been replaced by

“No fats, no femmes, no Asians”.

Racist signs have been replaced by racist memes. Let us all get our house in order. We cannot purport to fight for the rights of one minority while ignoring the plight of another.

One man died unequal. It is only when another is born equal that we will know that our job here is done. I, for one, will show unity in that message today.