Holding out on a hero

Many of us have moments in our lives that turn out to be pivotal – moments that arrive out of the blue and change its course. Few are probably as dramatic as that experienced by John Smeaton, the now legendary Glaswegian airport baggage handler, whose pivotal moment arrived in the form of terrorist’s burning jeep loaded with explosives. Though he has subsequently played down his role, his reactions made him an instant hero figure. He’s been the subject of a Wall Street Journal cover article, awarded the Queen’s Gallantry Medal, received a standing ovation at the Labour Party Conference, and now writes a column for The Scottish Sun that – echoing his TV interview on the day of the terrorist attack – is called ‘’The Column That Sets Aboot Ye’. But John Smeaton MP? Sadly for John, it wasn’t to be. Our MPs may lack heroism in our eyes, but is heroism what we’re really looking for?

Following the Glasgow airport attacks, he certainly struck a chord – a big, ringing, sustained chord at that – with the wider public. Here was, it seemed, a straightforward man of the people, firm but fair, who would get things done decisively. A website set-up by an admirer affectionately suggested we might pledge him a pint: thankfully, he split the funds between a veterans’ charity and a celebration for all those involved in tackling the terrorists as 1,400 pints would be tall order for even the sternest Glaswegian. As one web tribute put it:

London Airports: Little bit of fog? Closed for days. Glasgow Airport: Blown up? Open within 24 hours. Sorted.

Perhaps it was inevitable that, in an era of wall-to-wall coverage of political ‘sleaze’ and a government seen by so many commentators as moribund (John lives in the Labour stronghold of Glasgow North East), the man of the people might put himself forward – or be gently pushed (the sequence of events is unclear) – as a representative of the people when the resignation of the former Speaker, Michael Martin, triggered a by-election on 12 November.

What followed was instructive in terms of what ‘hero’ does not translate into, of engaging and inspiring a large audience, and on the preparation that leaders require – especially where leadership requires public election rather than private appointment. Sadly, it didn’t play out well for our erstwhile hero – a man who the accompanying BBC Documentary, Make Me an MP, showed to be honest almost to a fault, charming, popular … and ill-prepared for what was to happen. [A man who had spent 12 days in a coma a year earlier following a severe asthma attack should also have been more professionally advised on the workrate required of a political campaign.]

While Westminster may be full of people with sufficient baggage that not having previously recruited an experienced handler seems almost an oversight, ‘Smeato’ was a total political novice. And while his pledge to ‘bring down a storm on Westminster’ would no doubt chime with many voters after weeks of headlines about MPs expenses, his financial and organisational backers from the Jury Team (who had attracted 80,000 votes in the European elections, but not previously campaigned for a Westminster seat) seemed to turn into far more of a hindrance than a help.

His actions at the airport may have been inspirational, but leadership – and elected leadership is no exception – needs a clear vision to sustain this inspiration in the longer term. Another of the initial web-site tributes may have expressed the view:

let the guy have his 15 mins of fame. he has single handedly done more to deter terrorist in his fag break than any goverment can in 15 years

but governments have to sustain the power to inspire for more than fifteen minutes. Smeato’s initial press conference met a mixed reception – mostly noting his inexperience and lack of readiness for the moment (The Times provides one example) – although he was initially the bookkeepers’ third favourite with odds of 8/1. Undeniably an authentic individual, he spoke with conviction about ‘the Scottish dream – bringing skilled jobs and manufacturing to one of the most deprived constituencies in the country, where a third of the population are on benefits and life expectancy is among the lowest in Europe – but the Jury Team’s involvement muddied his waters.

Unable to respond to queries on the principles they support, he struggled to respond to reporters. Beyond the principles, the Jury Team doesn’t ostensibly (and unhelpfully) impose policy viewpoints on candidates it supports. Pledging to take up your constituents’ issues on their behalf is a key role for any MP, but it’s not a campaigning platform – it’s part of the responsibility of doing the job once appointed, not the rallying call that inspires the electorate to pick you as the winning applicant. When those you wish to win over ask the straightforward question ‘what are you standing for?’, the correct answer is not ‘Office’. To inspire, you need to set at least a substantial part of the initial agenda.

Watching the documentary, it was ultimately hard not to empathise with a man whose honesty extended to himself. Interviewed by The Guardian during the campaign, he said:

The people in these streets are the most genuine I’ve ever met, but they don’t spare you. They’ll stop and chat and ask after your welfare and wish you all the best. And when you ask them if they’ll vote for you, they’ll simply say ‘Naw’.”

Before the campaign was even complete, he had realised for himself that standing for Parliament had not been his finest hour. But as his following Sun article said, he took pride in having been – as his agent had described him – ‘the natural protest vote’ who had headed the minor parties in the poll results and probably drawn sufficient votes from the BNP for them to lose their deposit.

Like Ester Rantzen – another potential independent Westminster candidate – it may be Smeaton has a more valuable contribution to make for now – using a Sun column to speak with the voice of his local neighbourhood. As proud of his home patch as it is of him, a more modest incremental political career – starting as an independent councillor who really could campaign on the basis of ‘taking up your issues on your behalf’ – his time as a politician might even come. In the meantime, this isn’t ‘the blog that set aboot ye’ and we wish him well – and thank him for reminding many others that popularity isn’t the only test we have to pass in life.

And that’s not such a bad lesson as they go, John.