Hansard

I thank the member for Greenock and Inverclyde for bringing the debate to Parliament. I am delighted to speak in it for two reasons. First, I would not miss the opportunity to talk about my home town in a national debate in our Parliament, given that town’s historical connections with the subject that we debate; and secondly, and more importantly, I participated in the previous debate that we had on the subject.

My interest in the issue is to do with education because, ultimately, as far as I am concerned, this is not really a debate about whether we should have such a museum or where it should be; it is a debate about what its purpose would be and what benefits it would offer. For me, education lies at the heart of understanding our heritage, our history and our culture. If it is taught properly, it can enlighten us in a way that means that we often criticise with the judgments of today those who thought themselves enlightened in the past.

I am phenomenally proud of Greenock, and am proud of having been born and brought up there. I am proud of Greenock’s rich history, and I am proud to be able to represent it as part of my West Scotland region. It really has punched above its weight in the world. We have produced the likes of the great engineer James Watt, the great comedian Chic Murray and the great novelist Lin Anderson, whose genre—tartan noir—could easily describe the subject matter that we are discussing today. Historically, we were at the heart of the United Kingdom’s trade with the rest of the world, and I think that we should be overwhelmingly proud of what we have achieved and of the town’s contribution to the world in all those fields.

However, it is undoubtedly the case, as others have pointed out, that there are aspects of our history that are darker, and which should be explored and learned from, including our role in the triangular trade between continents, when, unfortunately, ships would carry not just coffee and tobacco, but people. That is undeniable. It is difficult for us, but it is not something that we should shy away from. Just as we marvel at the glory of the buildings, art and statues of that period, at the institutions and philanthropic efforts of the time, and at the infrastructure that those enlightened people built, we cannot be in denial about the source—in many cases—of their wealth.

However, I will say this: I was not there. I was brought up with the phrase, “Who am I to judge another when I walk imperfectly?” I think that anachronistic judgment of the deeds of history does us no favours. I believe that a credible compromise is to acknowledge that people did things then that we no longer deem to be appropriate, legal or moral, while accepting that not all those deeds were cruel or corrupt.

For me, James Watt, the great son of Greenock, epitomises that. He had such a great mind and was such a great thinker, but for many people is now tainted by the source of his wealth. I studied at James Watt College in Greenock with a great sense of pride. The connotations of his inventive mind were things to be proud of.

Let us look at how other countries have dealt with their chequered past. Mention has been made of Canada. The mission of the Canadian Museum of History in Quebec is to give pride of place to the first peoples. My Canadian family taught me to participate in and respect the culture of Canada’s indigenous population, and its history in Ontario, where many of my family still live. When I lived down under, I visited the Australian Museum in Sydney, which explores in great detail the history of the aboriginal population who lived there long before we did. New Zealand has taken a different route by embracing its past with a great deal of pride. This week is Maori language week, which is celebrated by all parts of Kiwi culture. The International Slavery Museum in Liverpool in the city’s Royal Albert dock is a great example of a museum that is more than bricks and mortar; it is a living centre of study and learning, and is something for the community to be proud of. It is not simply a building of judgment.

Surely we can do the same here on our shores. A new national museum on our heritage should, in my view, be based in Greenock, and the James Watt dock sugar sheds provide an ideal location—but if that is not possible, it could go elsewhere. The symbolism of that alone should serve as Greenock’s second beacon—one of light, acknowledgement and hope.