Brexit has turned the population of Northern Ireland into fence sitters. Ironically, sitting on a fence and watching Brexit go by has resulted in a reasonably peaceful and contented atmosphere on the streets of the North. At least on the surface. Northerners always enjoy a good drama.
Nothing in politics here, even at its most heightened, could rival Brexit. The public will claim they are fed up with the continuing chaos, but they will not reveal the delight they take in being able to describe another place as an even greater basket case than their own. More especially when the other place is England and the mother of parliaments. After being called a black pot for most of your life there is some satisfaction in watching the kettle turn black.
But the problem with fence sitters is that they make it impossible for commentators to judge the mood. What people shout from the fence may be no more than a gulder and far from what they would say in normal life and what they might say in the ballot box.
And even the best of drama can only hold attention for a limited time. Brexit is now likely to morph into a custom union or a long extension. Northern politics must come down from the dizzy heights and find a ground floor sometime soon.
Nationalists were initially angry with the DUP’s support for Brexit. They saw it as a rude finger gesture to their enthusiasm for the European project. A gesture that most thought would have no consequence because the referendum had little to no chance of upsetting the status quo.
Nationalists were angry with the DUP's support for Brexit. They saw it as a rude gesture to their enthusiasm for the European project
The vote surprised everyone. Having no voice or vote in Westminster because of Sinn Féin’s abstentionism resulted in a variety of sometimes contradictory responses. Some days annoyed because a vote or two might have made a difference, other days relaxed because no number of votes was going to bring clarity to the ever-increasing chaos.
Angry and confused
More recently the bulk of nationalists are both angry and confused. They repeatedly hear the British media talk of the negotiating skills of the DUP. They witness the delight and pomposity of Nigel Dodds and co within and without Westminster. They seldom hear a word of recognition or empathy to their views and to what, after all, was the majority vote in the North. A majority vote that included a good smattering of unionists. They have never been convinced that the English politicians are as committed to the precious union as the European Research Group would have one believe and they are hoping that some egg on some faces will be the outcome of those alliances.
In this swirl of emotions, it is easy to detect a steely determination that things are not going to go back to where they were. Certainly not back to a place where the DUP controlled the agenda. And if that means that there is going to be no Stormont, no government for the foreseeable future, then so be it. In the heartlands of Sinn Féin there would be few who would disagree with those sentiments, especially as they harden into the push for a Border poll. Their narrative is that there are as many nationalist voters now as there are unionists. They assert that there is plenty of evidence that some unionists now see the advantages of an all -Ireland economy.
The SDLP brand of nationalism has been squeezed and plundered in the ballot box arising out of the intensified hostility between the DUP and Sinn Féin
The SDLP brand of nationalism has been squeezed and plundered in the ballot box arising out of the intensified hostility between the DUP and Sinn Féin. To find an authoritative voice, it had to create a partnership with Fianna Fáil, knowing that the decision would result in the loss of some of its members. The tepid response of Micheál Martin surprised and disappointed many within the SDLP. Instead of responding with passion and conviction, providing a new vision for Ireland and simultaneously a new home for those northern nationalists who had stood their ground against the ideology and the ruthlessness of militant republicanism, Martin presented the project as a toe into the waters of northern politics. Apart from the reality that a toe is no great help to a drowning man, it revealed to some and confirmed for others that southern politics and politicians have been and will always be careful and hesitant when it comes to northern politics.
Stubborn and defensive
All of which reveals a dilemma for northern nationalism. Having lived cheek by jowl with unionism for a hundred years or more, it knows how stubborn, cautious and defensive it is. Its propensity to put the union first, middle and last means that it has had to be dragged to every political table and every compromise. Instead of creating a future narrative, it constantly reverts to the old narrative. Nationalism knows that the fragile trust that was slowly building up during the early Stormont Executive years was badly fractured in the McGuinness/Foster relationship and further damaged by Brexit. It knows that a Border poll, a referendum, is a crude instrument and that it is distasteful to those who would be described as dyed-in-the-wool unionists and to those whose allegiance to the union has weakened over the years. But without a lever to change the paradigm, nationalism believes that unionism will avoid facing any of the changing political, social and demographic realities.
There is little comfort to nationalists in southern political parties telling them that a crude head count is a bad idea without offering an alternative. Something of the nature of a standing conference or forum established by the Irish Government would be a frontloading of an essential debate about future relationships on this island. Initially it might not attract the unionist parties, but Brexit has shown that the business and farming communities of the North are seeking an outlet for their views. Where business goes, politics is likely to follow.
The other advantage of a standing conference or forum is that it would be the umbrella under which nationalism, Sinn Féin included, will find a way back into the Stormont Assembly and into dialogue with their unionist neighbours.
Denis Bradley is a journalist and former vice-chairman of the Northern Ireland Policing Board