Hansard

I join colleagues across the Parliament—members and staff—in mourning the loss of Sir George Reid and in celebrating his life. We send our condolences and love to Dee, Morag and the family—not forgetting the dogs, of course.

George led a remarkable life as a journalist, politician, humanitarian and academic. He was a true polymath, and he drew on his unique breadth of experience to touch the lives of so many. Every chapter of his career left a lasting legacy. He remains the only MSP to have received the Soviet medal of honour for his outstanding work with the International Committee of the Red Cross in leading the response to the Armenian earthquake in 1988.

I first met him when I was a very nervous new MSP in 2003. We had lunch. I said that I had voted for him to be my constituency MSP and that I would be voting for him again to become the Presiding Officer of this Parliament. He was so warm and generous, and he was full of useful advice, which was offered kindly—and sometimes very directly. He helped me to make sense of those early days in the Parliament, and I know that many other MSPs also benefited from his mentoring. Later, when I lost my seat at Holyrood, I valued his encouragement, which, again, drew on his personal experience of moving between so many different roles, both in and out of politics.

I recently met his colleagues at the University of Stirling, where he worked right up until the final few weeks of his life—teaching, mentoring and challenging students, while drawing on that vast experience. I learned how his work had helped them, just as he had helped me and so many others.

We remember fondly how George could hold any gathering in the palm of his hand. He had a natural and formidable power of convenership—an essential skill in that rainbow Parliament of the second session, when shenanigans were rife. We remember how he chaired a major global conference in the Parliament, opening proceedings in not just one but two African languages before addressing delegates in Gaelic and then, finally, in English—it was classic George. His wit, charisma and gravitas could lift any gathering, however small, into a major event, making people feel special and connected to one another. I remember attending dinners with international delegations that George hosted in his role as PO. They were enthralling. He would pull every thread of conversation in the room together, ensuring that no one was left behind. You had to sing for your supper, but you always left feeling part of something a wee bit special.

I have met so many staff in this building who loved working with George, in his time both as an MSP and then as Presiding Officer. Arguably, his greatest achievement in politics was steering this building—this village, as he loved to call it—to its completion. George was the right person at the right time to navigate the huge challenges of getting the building project on track and communicating that to a critical media. From the start, he brought his forensic attention to detail, demanding weekly updates of Gantt charts and critical paths, and he chivvied contractors to completion while delivering endless walk-throughs and interviews in multiple languages, explaining the challenges and progress of the project.

Colleagues remember a kind, shrewd, organised and tireless leader. We can only imagine what might have been if he had been able to take a more central role in the yes campaign for independence.

We celebrate the unique and remarkable life of Sir George Reid, a proud son of the wee county—much loved, and now much missed. [Applause.]