Chameleon Magazine

There are many things in life that might make a Scotsman feel embarrassed: wearing socks with sandals, forgetting your granny’s birthday, calling a tattie scone a “potato pancake.” But apparently for Tom Harris, the tipping point is not corruption, greed, or inequality—it’s a few folk waving signs and voicing opposition to an orange golf course salesman in a red hat.

Yes, you read that correctly. Former Labour MP and now full-time Telegraph curmudgeon Tom Harris is ashamed of Scotland… because people dared to protest Donald Trump.

Let’s pause a moment and soak in the absurdity. Not tariffs on Scottish whisky. Not Trump’s mockery of climate science while buying up coastal land. Not the man’s nuclear brinkmanship, Twitter tantrums, or proud ignorance of basic facts. No, what gets Tom’s kilt in a twist is the audacity of ordinary Scots objecting to the arrival of a man who thinks wind turbines are uglier than his own ego.

The Real Embarrassment

What kind of self-loathing does it take to see a peaceful protest and think, “Ugh, we’re the problem”? Protest is baked into Scotland’s DNA. We’ve marched for miners, for justice, for independence. We’ve marched in the rain, in the snow, and sometimes for reasons we barely understood, because that’s what solidarity looks like.

Tom, however, would prefer we pipe down and let Mr. MAGA strut across Turnberry like some divine gift to Ayrshire real estate. The same Trump who slapped tariffs on British steel and Scotch whisky. The same Trump who mocked NATO, praised Putin, and treated diplomacy like a failed TV pilot.

Yet Tom is mortified—not by Trump’s presence, but by our refusal to roll out the shortbread and say, “Aye, Mr. President, feel free to desecrate the dunes.”

Scotland Didn’t Vote for This

Let’s get one thing straight. Scotland didn’t elect Trump. We didn’t ask for his trade wars. And we certainly didn’t request the human cheese puff to show up and patronize us in a white baseball cap. If anything, the fact that Scots protested his arrival proves we still have a spine.

And here’s the kicker: Trump isn’t some misunderstood savior. He’s a man who fumbled a pandemic, fueled division, bragged about grabbing women, and dined daily on conspiracy theories. To say nothing of the quiet disdain he showed for actual governance—unless it involved golf courses or cable news.

But to Tom, protesting that man is embarrassing?

Tom’s Chosen Identity

This is a man who once stood for Labour—then left the party, then became a Telegraph pundit, then started sounding like the Spectator’s Scottish intern. Somewhere along the way, he traded public service for eye-rolling hot takes about how progressive Scots have lost the plot.

Maybe what Tom really mourns is that the country changed—and he didn’t. He once stood on the same side as protestors. Now he writes columns about how they ruin the view.

Scotland hasn’t lost its soul, Tom. You just misplaced yours somewhere between a backbench and a broadsheet.

Final Note to Tom:

You say anti-Trump protests make you ashamed to be Scottish. But those protests? They make us proud.

Proud to say we don’t kneel to bullies.

Proud to say we can spot a con from a mile away—especially when it’s wrapped in a suit and capped with cotton candy hair.

And proud to remember that true patriotism isn’t blind loyalty. It’s calling out injustice, even when it arrives in a limousine.

So if you’re embarrassed, Tom, maybe it’s time you traded your Saltire for a MAGA hat.

We hear they go well with bagpipes and self-pity.

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