Alan's quiet dignity made me proud to be a Scot
As one of London's many Scots in exile, a few recent moments elicited a twinge of my dormant Caledonian pride. First, when a passer-by rugby-tackled the flaming suicide bomber to the ground in Glasgow airport. Then, when the city's Muslim community issued a firm condemnation of the attacks, four full days ahead of the Muslim Council of Britain's statement here.
But it was yesterday's news, on the radio when I woke, that Alan Johnston was free which brought a genuine surge of emotion. As I blinked awake, his father was recounting the first conversation they'd shared in 16 weeks. It went thus: "Hello, Dad." "Hello, son, how are you? Are you all right?", then finally, as the phone cut out, "I'm 100 per cent." That was the extent of their exchange a masterclass in economy of language and emotion. In 15 short words the care of a father was conveyed to his son, and Alan reassured his worried parents. It was a very Scottish conversation.
This truncated call was typical of the Johnston family's conduct. It's difficult to imagine the trauma of Alan's parents Graham and Margaret throughout those 114 days, but they described them, with impressive understatement, as "at times quite terrible". Words later echoed by their son, who said his time as a hostage was "occasionally quite terrifying".
The family stayed low key, but worked with the media issuing few statements, most notably a moving open letter to Alan. Their campaign to free their son was conducted with discipline and by stealth, and it paid off.
Alan himself, through the toughest moments of his incarceration, maintained remarkable composure, managing to report on his own situation for his captors' tape while wearing a lethal explosives belt.
As interviews since his release have shown, his main concern was for his parents, and how he had brought "the very worst problems of the world, pouring through their very quiet, peaceful lives there on the west coast of Scotland". Years of delivering spoken-word reports meant he was able to convey his thoughts with poetic precision, even when his voice was thick with emotion.
It must have been incredibly hard, but both father and son kept their eye on the wider picture. For Graham this meant holding fast and trusting in the efforts of the Government and the BBC, while Alan put his own kidnap into context by mentioning the many journalists who died in captivity in the last year. Neither did Alan forget his manners. He expressed gratitude for Palestine's "extraordinary warmth and hospitality", even as a hostage in its war.
For all the Johnston family, Alan's release was an enormous relief. But here in London, in a week when we feel so under siege, witnessing the composure of a grateful father and the professionalism of his brave son was a moment of release for us, too.
