'Honest' John Swinney's treatment of SNP whistleblowers shows he's anything but a man of honour - Euan McColm

In the month since former SNP chief executive Peter Murrell pleaded guilty to embezzling more than £400,000 from the party, the First Minister has been at the greatest of pains to ensure we understand his personal integrity is beyond question.

The suggestion Swinney might bear any share of responsibility for creating the culture of secrecy and intimidation within the SNP that allowed Murrell to get away with his crimes for 12 years has been met with fury. Anyone hinting that the FM knew anything about what was going on has been instructed, with something approaching menace, to be careful. Demands – from both opposition parties and a substantial number of SNP members – for an independent inquiry into how Murrell was able to get away with his crimes continue to be rejected.

Swinney’s strategy of repeatedly insisting the matter of how Nicola Sturgeon’s estranged husband was able to rinse the SNP’s accounts should be considered closed has been a conspicuous failure. The louder the first minister speaks of his honour, the faster we count our spoons.

The decision of two former members of the SNP to speak out, last week, about the appalling way in which they were treated when they tried to raise concerns about the party’s finances, even as Murrell was at the height of his crime spree, has done nothing to shore up Swinney’s crumbling reputation.

During two lengthy interviews with The Sun and broadcaster LBC, Allison Graham and Cynthia Guthrie claimed they were bullied by Nicola Sturgeon and other senior SNP figures for daring to ask where hundreds of thousands of pounds raised through donations had gone.

Graham, Guthrie, and fellow party member Frank Ross all resigned their positions on the SNP’s finance and audit committee in 2021 after being frustrated in their efforts to get answers.

On Thursday, Graham and Guthrie sat in the Scottish Parliament’s public gallery as Scottish Conservative leader Russell Findlay invited Swinney to apologise to them for his “central role in the SNP scandal”?

The first minister didn’t even acknowledge the presence of the whistleblowers, never mind say sorry to them. He had already apologised to “members of the Scottish National Party for the events that have affected the party’s finances” and he reiterated that apology. The allegations Findlay made about him were, he snapped, “baseless – utterly and totally baseless”.

In response, the Scottish Tory boss went on to describe what did sound awfully like Swinney’s “central role”.

The truth was, said Findlay, that Peter Murrell should never have been free to commit his crimes. Whistleblowers were bullied after being refused access to basic information and, twice, John Swinney had pitched up on the BBC to say his party’s finances were completely sound.

The First Minister was at the heart of a cover and now he was “terrified” of an inquiry.

Swinney’s reply was quite something.

“To give Mr Findlay reassurance about the issues that he is concerned about,” said Swinney, “I simply say to him that I have addressed the issues with the SNP’s finances and the SNP has strong governance in place.”

I’m afraid John Swinney has quite lost his mind if he thinks his personal reassurance on this matter is worth anything.

The first minister’s word has never been less valuable.

Five years ago, Swinney appeared on the box to tell us all the SNP’s finances were in rude health. That he thinks regurgitating this line now will disentangle him from the Murrell scandal displays a remarkable degree of optimism.

Speaking to reporters after first minister’s questions, Swinney rejected claims anyone had been bullied by Nicola Sturgeon or other senior party figures.

This was a disgraceful moment for a politician who demands we see him as a man of honour.

Not only were Allison Graham and Cynthia Guthrie correct in their suspicions that all was not well with the SNP’s finances, they have provided both compelling personal testimony and substantial documentary evidence to support their claims to have been the victims of bullying.

These women – who spoke up five years ago because it was the right thing to do – are fully entitled to an apology from the first minister. Instead, he decided to gaslight them.

The sentencing of Peter Murrell, last week, to five years and three months in prison for embezzlement doesn’t begin to draw to a close this difficult chapter for Swinney.

There can, I’m afraid, be only one of two possible explanations for the first minister’s continued rejection of an independent inquiry into Murrell’s crimes: Either he fears what it would uncover or he knows what it would uncover.

Five years ago, John Swinney went out to bat on behalf of Peter Murrell and SNP members are now entitled to understand how this came to pass.

But this is not simply a matter of SNP governance of interest only to their supporters.

Right now, the First Minister’s integrity is in doubt and that is a matter for every Scot.

There’s a heavy pathos in Swinney’s continued defence of the last remaining shreds of Nicola Sturgeon’s reputation. Had their roles been reversed, she’d have had no compunction about cutting him adrift. That’s precisely the kind of thing that happened under the culture of bullying in Sturgeon’s SNP.

Difficult questions remain for the First Minister about more than £600,000, solicited in donations by Nicola Sturgeon and other senior figures, which was not – as promised – kept in a ring-fenced account but, instead, frittered away on unspecified expenses.

When Swinney returned, in 2024, for his second stint as SNP leader, he was regarded as the safe pair of hands required to steady the ship after the chaos of the Humza Yousaf months.

Now, mired in sleaze and losing his rag on a daily basis, John Swinney has become the SNP’s biggest liability.