A bit of heckling is all part of public life
Of all people, particularly having come up the hard way in Glasgow clubs, you’d have thought that Billy Connolly could stand a bit of heckling.
But no – a few days back, in the Blackpool Opera Theatre, Connolly responded to interruptions from the audience by stamping his foot and walking off stage. His show came to an abrupt end 20 minutes earlier than the punters had paid for.
The Laird of Candacraig (up the back of Aberdeenshire) had a hissy fit at the lack of respect being shown by his audience; clearly this was no way to treat such a great man.
I find his reaction very surprising.
I have mentioned in this column being heckled (in Rogart) by my time-honoured political opponent Mr Gordon Campbell.
"Stone of Density!" "A pineapple!!" – how the Rogart folk loved it; Gordon’s remarks quite made the evening.
And I remember before I was old enough to vote, the late and great MP for Ross and Cromarty, Alasdair Mackenzie, addressing an election hustings in Tain.
"There has been a great wave of support in Aultbea, a great wave of support in Dingwall, and a great wave of support…"
"Be quiet – you’re making us seasick!!" a heckler shouted from the back of the hall – which a split second later had the audience collapsed in laughter. There was no question of Alasdair Mackenzie having the luxury of being able to walk off stage that night; he had to face the music, and where possible use the heckler as a cue for humour of his own.
I am told that it was in the same Aultbea that Randolph Churchill (Winston Churchill’s son) showed the audience how to respond to a hostile comment.
It was during the famous 1936 by-election, and Randolph was chuntering on to the West Coast crofters about agriculture and agricultural subsidies, subjects that he was not as well informed about as he would have liked to have had voters believe.
"Mr Churchill – seeing as how you know so much about agriculture, can you tell me how many toes does a pig have?" came the withering question from the floor. As the laughter subsided, Churchill thrust his head forward and snarled back "Take off your boots and count!" That was one of quite a few elections that Randolph Churchill did not win.
(Poor Randolph; hopelessly spoiled by his father, bad-tempered and increasingly drunk – when he was operated on for the removal of a tumour, which was subsequently reported as being non-malignant, his friend, and possibly the 20th century’s greatest writer of prose, Evelyn Waugh commented wryly "A typical triumph of modern science to find the only part of Randolph that was not malignant and remove it").
Heckling – a couple of weeks ago I wrote about my days in student politics, the time that I first got to know Alex Salmond.
Then, and now, at Scottish universities and colleges public "heckling meetings" are held where would-be elected representatives are given the opportunity to say why they should be elected, answer questions and, well, yes – be heckled. That’s how it’s been done for many years; indeed it is a fine old Scottish tradition.
The same was true when my father used to seek re-election to Tain Town Council before it was abolished in 1975. He and other hopefuls had to stand up in front of a boisterous meeting in the town hall and state their case. The ability to handle hecklers, both humorous and hostile, was all part of the process – indeed it was a vital part of how you were judged by the electorate. The same was true of other towns the length and breadth of Scotland.
But that was then – and this is now.
Sometimes I wonder if politicians aren’t these days becoming a little protected from the cut and thrust, face-to-face, regular public examinations of earlier generations.
Linked to Billy Connolly’s unexpected display of touchiness is the ever-increasing inability of some of today’s political heavyweights to respond to criticism, or differing views, with anything other than sneering anger or vilification.
It is not a good trend. And they didn’t get away with it the old days.
Billy Connolly will surely get over his temporary lapse and regain his normal poise and humour. For comics and politicians, displays of petulance or anger, are beneath the great.
