I was in the Scottish Parliament on Weds for the debate on the Private members motion opposing the designation of the Sound of Barra as a Special Conservation Area (SAC) by Tory Highland MSP Jamie McGrigor. I came in a wee bit after the start but what I saw was a very high quality debate with cogent, well-argued contributions from Labour's Claire Baker (a gal to watch), Alison Johnstone for the Greens (who back the SAC), Tavish Scott for the Lib Dems (who quoted my Monday Scotsman column on this very issue) and a Highland-sounding SNP MSP I'm ashamed to say I didn't recognise. He made a point I've wanted to set straight – that SNH are to some extent piggy in the middle of this Hebridean rammy. Environment Minister Stewart Stevenson surprised me when he said relations between SNH and the Barra people had broken down completely. I haven't been out to sceptred isle lately, but I'd hazard a quess there really aren't any relations to be broken down. There is no SNH office on Barra and apart from the odd visit to count corncrakes on the SAC at Eoligarry or check seal numbers – a task possibly delegated to seal experts like the Sea Mammal Research Unit (SMRU) from St Andrews University -- SNH may not figure in the everyday lives of Barra islanders very much at all. And this is part of the problem. SNH only arrive to say no –you can't do that – inadvertently echoing a long inglorious Highland and Island history where people have been at the bottom of the pecking order of species and deer, sheep, seals and eagles have all been far higher up. That history is not SNH's fault. But people were cleared until 130 years ago to make way for animals and the memory – and enduring impact of empty glens -- rankles still. Largely because some of the over-arching, feudal-style control once enjoyed by generally feared and often absent landowners has been handed to SNH not devolved to savvy, self-reliant, capable communities like Barra. That too is not SNH's fault.
