A day of high political drama unfolded both inside the Scottish Parliament and across the city, blending scripted pantomime with genuine chaos. The focal point was Finance Secretary Shona Robison's budget, which faced fierce criticism from the Scottish Conservatives.
Budget Barbs and Robotic Rebuttals
Scottish Tory leader Russell Findlay launched a scathing attack on the Scottish Government's financial plans. He conceded the budget would cut taxes for some, but derided the most generous saving as amounting to just 61 pence a week. "That wouldn't even buy you a bag of peanuts," he declared to laughter from the benches.
His colleague, Rachael Hamilton, echoed the jibe by shouting "Peanuts!" in a moment of comedic timing that drew further amusement from across the chamber, including the SNP backbenches. In response, First Minister John Swinney delivered a dry retort, stating he was "pleased to see that auditions for pantomime dame are being entered early."
Findlay then branded the entire budget a 'boorach' – a Gaelic word for a muddle or mess. This appeared to trigger a programmed response from the First Minister, who rebooted into a familiar script about the budget delivering on the priorities of the people of Scotland, strengthening the NHS, and supporting businesses.
Reform UK's Day of Turmoil
While Holyrood engaged in its usual theatrics, a banquet of political chaos was being served by Reform UK elsewhere in Edinburgh. The event, intended to unveil the party's new Scottish leader, Lord Offord, was completely upstaged by breaking news from Westminster.
It was revealed that Kemi Badenoch had sacked Robert Jenrick for allegedly plotting to defect to Reform. The Opposition leader had withdrawn the whip, suspended his membership, and ejected him from the party's WhatsApp group. Nigel Farage, present at the Edinburgh event, denied Jenrick was plotting but said he would call him, adding, "I might even buy him a pint."
By tea time, the defection was complete. Robert Jenrick was officially a Reform UK MP, having been effectively frog-marched across the floor in a dramatic political shift that overshadowed Reform's own Scottish launch.
A Serious Clash on Prison Policy
Amidst the humour and chaos, a moment of ice-cold seriousness cut through the Holyrood chamber. Scottish Conservative leader Douglas Ross challenged the First Minister on the Scottish Government's controversial policy of housing biological men who identify as women in female prisons.
Ross demanded to know why ministers were going to court to maintain this policy, despite accepting the Supreme Court's ruling on the legal definition of sex. Swinney's response was robotic, reiterating that "the judgment of the Supreme Court is accepted by the Scottish Government."
A visibly furious Ross shot up, stating, "I am not allowed to call the First Minister a liar but that answer was not truthful." He repeatedly barked the question, "Are they male or female?" as Swinney appeared unable to answer directly. The confrontation highlighted a deep ideological rift, with the First Minister seemingly unwilling to state a biological truth to avoid offending certain factions.
The most striking intervention came from the SNP's own backbenches. SNP MSP Ruth Maguire rose to denounce her own government's policy as "appalling" for forcing women to share jail space with men. She spoke without a script, driven, as observers noted, by a simple commitment to the truth.
The day encapsulated modern politics: performative disputes over minor budget details, parties in turmoil over defections, and profound, brave dissent on matters of fundamental principle and safety.
