Hansard

I thank colleagues for their generous comments this afternoon, and I thank those who have been in touch over recent days with wonderful messages. I have drawn huge strength from those messages, and I know that the family have drawn comfort from the outpouring of affection and admiration that Alex Cole-Hamilton referred to.

Jim Wallace was my boss, my mentor and my good friend. He bears responsibility for getting me hooked on politics and, like boiling a frog, slowly drawing me into standing for election. I forgave him that, although his lifelong love of Rangers was slightly more difficult to overlook. In return, Jim did not sack me when I tabled an early day motion in his name at Westminster congratulating Celtic’s Lisbon lions on the 25th anniversary of their historic European cup triumph—Jim was on holiday at the time. I was his researcher, special adviser and speechwriter, although I note that Jim never delivered a word that I wrote. Me delivering this speech feels deeply ironic in some senses. Even so, I can claim credit for Jim telling the now-infamous goat joke at the Orkney rugby club dinner in 1991—thankfully, it was not career ending for either of us.

Originally from Annan, Jim was a born-again islander, and he was fiercely proud of being Orcadian. For more than four decades, he represented the interests of islanders and our island communities with tenacity, diligence and selflessness, providing calm in times of crisis and always being approachable. The people who he served with such distinction in Orkney and Shetland are feeling his loss deeply right now. One person who I spoke to at the weekend even admitted that recent media reporting and tributes provided a timely reminder that Jim was so much more than just an excellent constituency MP and MSP, although that was always his number 1 priority.

Jim got things done in Government, in Opposition and outside of politics. He was fiercely intelligent, but he wore that intelligence lightly. I am far from alone, as we have heard in the debate, in having benefited from his wisdom—a wisdom that drew on his humanity, empathy and humility, which was no doubt a product of his deep faith.

With regard to this place, Jim was an architect of devolution, who helped very deliberately to create a Parliament that would require politicians to work across party divides, not by sacrificing their principles or adopting some cosy consensus but by putting in the hard graft and having the patience to find agreement that actually delivered for people, communities and our country.

Jim rarely took credit for his achievements, and he certainly did not do so on a personal level. He steered clear of personal attacks and abrasive politics in debate that grabs headlines and followers and, as a result, was often underestimated, including by himself. Jim’s was a style of politics that elevated persistence over performance, sound policy over soundbites and bringing people together rather than driving them apart. That feels like a style of politics that is needed in this Parliament and in this country more than ever.

I first encountered Jim at a hustings in Kirkwall grammar school during the 1983 election. In the dining hall that afternoon, Jim’s insight, passion and humour cut through a wall of teenage indifference—or they did in my case, and, happily, with a sizeable majority of voters in Orkney and Shetland thereafter. I cannot think of anyone who has had a more profound influence since then on me or on my perspective about how we go about building a more liberal, tolerant and successful society. I have so many fond memories of time in Jim’s company, plotting, planning or just gossiping, and always with laughter.

I am devastated by the sudden and untimely death of Jim Wallace. My heart goes out to Rosie, Helen and Clare, his mother Grace, brother Neil and the wider family who are having to deal with the loss of a husband, a father, a son, a brother, a grandpa and an uncle.

I am dealing with losing one of my closest friends, and folks in Orkney and Shetland, all the way down to Annan and beyond, are coming to terms with the loss of someone who the former First Minister Jack McConnell rightly described as the best of men. He really was the best of men.