How Christina McKelvie transformed the tone of Scottish politics

Her career as an MSP culminated in a series of ministerial roles – for equalities and older people; for culture, Europe and international development; and for drugs and alcohol policy. These put to excellent use her relationship-building skills, pragmatic approach to policy and open-hearted compassion, and which were cut short only by her final illness.

Christina was among the sizeable cohort of SNP MSPs who found themselves elected somewhat unexpectedly to Holyrood in 2007 from the middle ranks of regional lists, in her case in Central Scotland, where she had fought the Hamilton South constituency, coming second to Labour’s Tom McCabe.

Despite a long background as an SNP activist and election agent in the east end of Glasgow and as a trade union organiser, Christina was something of an unknown quantity when she arrived in Parliament and she made an immediate impact with her trademark combination of glamour, bolshiness, cheeky humour and fearlessness.

Those qualities also led to her often being patronised and underestimated by a Scottish political press corps and commentariat (and some MSP peers, who should have known better). They were unable to look beyond the surface of the great-looking blonde with the unapologetic Easterhouse accent who always wore her heart on her sleeve to see the tough, collegiate, whip-smart and thoughtful politician who chaired the SNP group’s trade union liaison committee and was always among the first to step up and take on difficult tasks.

Her unfiltered openness – which was so much part of her personal appeal – also made her a target and some of the commentary to which Christina was subjected throughout her career, but particularly in those early years, it was openly and sneeringly misogynistic and classist. Christina hadn’t gone to university but she accrued an impressive range of professional qualifications in her previous career as a social care manager, which she rightly listed on her parliamentary CV.

READ MORE: Christina McKelvie on why Winnie Ewing was her inspiration

One of those came from the University of St Andrews, and one journalist fired a barrage of questions at her about this, clearly thinking they’d caught her in a fib – because how could someone like Christina possibly have attended such an august institution? Christina was justifiably hurt by some of the assumptions made about her. But she had an inner steel and buoyant optimism that enabled her to turn each setback into a lesson.

As her understanding of how to effectively deploy her distinctive qualities as a politician grew, so too did her confidence in using her own authentic working-class woman’s voice to speak directly to people about the issues that were most important to her – Scottish independence; nuclear disarmament; women’s and LGBTQ+ equality; humane asylum seeker and refugee policy; human rights and social protection for the most vulnerable; and especially children’s rights and the eradication of child poverty.

Instinctively “woke” before the term ever existed, Christina saw no contradictions within a politics that encompassed equalities and human rights concerns, class justice and Scottish independence.

For her, they were all part of the same generous and inclusive political project. The role of convener of the Parliament’s Equalities and Human Rights Committee, which she held from 2016 until she was appointed a minister in 2018, was one that could have been tailor-made for her and she was a favourite speaker with delegates at the SNP’s National Conferences and branch meetings around the country. During her first term, Christina ensured she was a consistent and visible presence in and advocate for the communities she served.

Her hard work was rewarded when she won the constituency of Hamilton, Larkhall and Stonehouse in the 2011 Holyrood election, retaining it for the next 14 years until her death last week.

Christina was inordinately proud of being the first SNP member for Hamilton since Winnie Ewing – and the first-ever for Larkhall, a community she came to have a particular fondness for.

She had a strong personal bond with her constituents. Anyone who attended her surgeries, especially if they were in distress, would leave feeling that had really been heard, having had their hand held by their MSP and sympathetic tears shed along with theirs.

Her constituency office staff would bemoan how long it took to go and get lunch on the days Christina was in the constituency, so often was she stopped by folk in Hamilton who wanted to thank her for something she had done for them. She remembered every one of their stories and would attend the funerals of constituents and their family members.

Christina adored children but almost everyone – regardless of age or status – experienced her motherly instincts. It was near impossible to leave Christina McKelvie’s company without having been cuddled.

READ MORE: Holyrood by-election expected before summer after death of Christina McKelvie

Christina Curran grew up in Easterhouse, the second of four children in a tight-knit, noisy, loving Catholic family. Her reminisces were of a happy, adventurous, tomboyish childhood, playing in the undeveloped woodland around area and swimming in the sea and guddling in rock pools on family caravan holidays to St Andrews.

But there was real hardship too. Her beloved father, David, was diagnosed with motor neurone disease when Christina was nine, forcing him to give up his work as a shipyard iron moulder.

Her mother Rose worked night shifts as a cleaner in addition to her day job in order to keep the family going. Christina passed up an offered place at Glasgow School of Art to instead to boost the household income. A naturally talented artist, she continued to draw and paint as a hobby and her creativity found outlets in home decor, gardening and her fabulous dress sense.

With a stubbornness much like Christina’s own, David Curran lived with MND for 12 years, surviving long enough to give a speech at Christina’s wedding. Christina campaigned and fundraised for MND research for the rest of her life and personally secured commitments of Scottish Government funding.

The assumption might be that a background and experiences like this would lead naturally to Labour politics but David Curran was a member of the SNP and the party and independence cause were in Christina’s DNA.

Before being elected, she was one of a small number of prominent nationalist voices within the Scottish trade union movement and was instrumental in helping to create a constructive working relationship between the SNP in government and the Scottish Trades Union Congress  and individual trade unions.

Christina’s trade union roots and deep understanding of working-class people’s lives and experiences were also much more influential in shaping a coherent left-of-centre, social democratic policy platform within the SNP than she is ever given credit for. 

Her trade unionism also meant she knew how to be an excellent employer, a skill attested to by the long list of former staff members – myself included – who remained her loyal friends.

Christina’s marriage to the father of her two sons had ended and during her first term at Holyrood she began a relationship with fellow MSP Keith Brown. 

Both single parents of school-age children at the time, their love story was conducted well away from the limelight and, although it was never a secret, for a long time there were many, even in the SNP, who were unaware they were a couple.  

While living the hectic lives of constituency MSPs, they quietly set about making a life together and forging a devoted and enduring partnership in which the mutual admiration and respect as well as love were palpable to everyone who spent time with them. 

The birth of grandchildren Maeve and Leo was a source of particular joy. Along with her sons Lewis and Jack, of whom she was rightly extraordinarily proud, Keith Broon – as Christina always referred to him – was by her side to the end.

Christina was a key figure among a number of women elected to Holyrood in its first decade, who transformed the previously dominant language and tone of Scottish politics, to one that spoke much more directly to women and younger people, that was conversational rather than didactic, that sought to lift people up, and that was unafraid of open reflection, of emotional honesty, of empathy and of love. 

That transformation came at no small personal cost to that generation of women. 

But they held their ground, despite constant attempts to push back their progress, and the outpouring of appreciation in recent days for Christina’s way of doing politics has demonstrated there are new generations ready to pick up her baton.

READ MORE: We have lost one of our kindest and most passionate politicians

Christina herself was a living example of that transformation. By the time of her death, the woman who had initially been painted as a flaky political lightweight was a trusted minister, relied on by three successive first ministers to bring diligence and shrewdness to handling any number of policy challenges. 

It is a testament to her strength of character that she achieved this while continuing to light up every room with her vibrancy, warmth, authenticity and huge, overflowing heart that touched so many people during her lifetime and inspired so much love for her in others.

Susan Aitken is the leader of Glasgow City Council