Local heroes would back The Donald

I'VE seen Donald Trump up close and so I've had the chance to take a good look at his famous hair. When you're talking to him it's impossible to stop your eyes straying upwards to marvel at its ingenuity. Heaven knows what miracle of manmade fibre and embroidery manages to keep it in position. But when Trump visited St Andrews last year to talk about his plans for a massive golf complex in Scotland, a stiff gale coming in off the North Sea failed to put even a strand out of place.

Trump's grand plan for the Menie estate in Aberdeenshire is proving similarly robust in stormy conditions. Last week John Swinney, the Scottish Government's Finance Secretary, called in the planning application to prevent it from being scuppered by Aberdeenshire councillors who had voted for its rejection. There were predictable squeals of outrage that the SNP administration was trampling over local democracy, but Swinney's judgment was spot-on. There is a national interest at play here that supersedes local sensibilities.

Americans can't get enough of this story. The Yanks love the idea that the great Donald Trump might be thwarted by a bunch of pawky Scotchmen, who would rather have a bit of beach than a billion pounds of investment, 6,000 jobs and an extra £60m a year for the local economy. Our role in this drama is to play the part of wily but unworldly natives, instantly recognisable from films such as Whisky Galore!, Local Hero and I Know Where I'm Going. Now I love these movies too, but to perpetuate these stereotypes in 2007 would be a disaster.

I feel strongly about this because I know the real damage that can be done if such a project founders. My home town of Dundee spent a decade trying to live down the woeful saga of the Ford electronics factory that was planned for the city back in 1988. The $68m investment was substantial for its day, but was killed off when Ford couldn't strike a deal to have the workforce represented by a single union. Instead, the money, jobs, spin-offs and kudos went to Cadiz in Spain.

Even though the fault lay with squabbling union barons at UK level, it was the Dundee workforce that got the blame, giving the city an undeserved reputation for militancy and obstinacy. Only recently, through diversification into life sciences and video gaming, has Dundee killed off that canard. The Trump saga carries a similar risk, not just for the northeast but for the country as a whole. Like it or not, international businessmen considering an investment in Scotland are a lot more like Donald Trump than Martin Ford, the well-meaning but naive Lib Dem councillor whose casting vote on Aberdeenshire Council's infrastructure committee gave Trump his bloody nose.

Ford has spoken of his astonishment at the hostile reaction he received from local people. "The world's gone mad," he said, inadvertently revealing he had no idea how high the stakes truly were.

Environmental objections to the Trump scheme need a little perspective. The last time I looked at a map of Scotland we seemed to have quite a lot of coastline - 7,140 miles of it, to be exact. We don't seem to be badly off for sand.

To reject this proposal to save a sand dune therefore seems a tad unnecessary. Nor does the area's status as a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) carry much weight. This designation doesn't mean Menie is a natural treasure that must be preserved at all costs, like a Grade-A listed building. There are actually 1,455 SSSIs in Scotland, covering more than a million hectares. That's 12.9% of Scotland's land mass. Are we really saying that none of this land should be considered for any kind of development whatsoever?

Then there's the reaction to Trump himself. I don't remember the same hoo-hah two years ago when the Al Tajir family from Saudi Arabia announced a deal to build a £100m playground for the super-rich on a 600-acre chunk of Perthshire next to Gleneagles, with golf courses, a world-class spa and holiday homes that cost £5m a pop. This was widely seen as a good thing for tourism, while, in contrast, Trump's plans are apparently akin to a full-scale invasion by the 101st Airborne Division.

I don't doubt that some of Trump's opponents have a sincere concern for the environment - but for others this is simply camouflage. You don't have to dig too deep to find other, less edifying motivations. Let's be honest, if this golf scheme was the brainchild of a Swedish tycoon famed for his impeccable manners and Renaissance art collection it would have been passed with little difficulty. But because Trump is a vulgar, self-publicising American property shark with garish taste in women and architecture it's a very different story. There's a smidgeon of snobbishness in attitudes to 'The Donald', and maybe a dash of anti-Americanism as well.

Obviously, the Menie masterplan must come under careful scrutiny. This can't be a walled fortress that flouts Scotland's right-to-roam laws. The beaches must still be accessible for the local people to enjoy. The architecture of the hotel complex must gain its inspiration from Scotland's grand Victorian links hotels, such as Turnberry, and not from Disneyland or Las Vegas.

And the Trump Organisation must look at ways to be generous benefactors to the local community. But with these conditions satisfied, the scheme should go ahead.

Scotland is the home of golf. We are so familiar with this phrase we perhaps fail to recognise its potency and potential. If we want to continue attracting golfing tourist dollars we must compete with what the rest of the world is offering the filthy rich. And, let's face it, no one knows them better than The Donald.