Cometh the hour, cometh the women.
After last week's disagreement over school closures in the North, First Minister Arlene Foster and Deputy First Minister Michelle O'Neill have established a double act that already feels like a political institution. Even in these dark hours there is comedy in both having to appear together two metres apart. It lends visual credibility to a partnership that might otherwise still look forced.
The DUP and Sinn Féin were forced into office two months ago by a crisis in the North’s health service. The electorate’s message to get back to work and do better had been taken onboard by both parties and by Foster and O’Neill, who faced internal challenges to their positions towards the end of last year. They were trying to strike a new tone, with some success, before coronavirus changed everything.
Now there is an unprecedented public appetite for their collective leadership.
Even routine civility between the two leaders wins enthusiasm, verging on emotionalism. It is the media’s job to remain cynical but this is no time for cynicism for its own sake. Foster and O’Neill are demonstrating a potential to rise to the crisis that would have seemed unlikely a few weeks ago.
For the DUP leader, this is an intrinsically easier task. Unionists have an ideological attraction to the idea of Northern Ireland pulling together. Foster has urged people to "embrace the spirit of Northern Ireland" – a phrase no nationalist politician could utter.
Unionists can also be forgiving of their leaders, as long as there are signs of redemption. Peter Robinson, Foster's predecessor and mentor, survived a series of personal and financial problems in 2010 after baring his pain. Inquiries later cleared him of any wrongdoing.
There is an echo of this in Foster surviving the Renewable Heat Incentive inquiry, which cleared her last week of anything beyond a lack of attention.
The DUP leader still reiterated an apology for “errors and mistakes”, seemed close to tears as she told the assembly of the strain on her family and said she had been sustained by her religious faith.
Doug Beattie, a prominent member of the rival Ulster Unionist Party, welcomed this as "gracious and humbling".
Sober manner
For the wider public, Foster's real shot at redemption will be how she handles coronavirus. Her final advantage might be a sober manner to suit a sobering problem – in contrast to British prime minister Boris Johnson, who has struggled to sound appropriately grim.
To be fair to the DUP leader, she appears truly changed and chastened by the events of the past three years. Before Stormont collapsed, Foster often acted as if she was the prime minister of Northern Ireland. Today, she is faultless in acknowledging the joint nature of her office and playing down differences with Sinn Féin she would once have played up. The royal we has become “Michelle and I”.
O’Neill has different preconceptions to disprove. She is new to the post of Deputy First Minister, while her role as Sinn Féin deputy president was conjured out of the air. The perception of being a puppet for backroom forces was confirmed when she endorsed Stormont’s policy of keeping schools open before disowning it the next day. This pattern was repeated on childcare for essential workers, with O’Neill permitting then criticising an executive decision.
It is no mystery that Sinn Féin has a high degree of central direction and a fondness for being in government and opposition at the same time. Nor is it much of a scandal. The hard line on school closures was popular and seemed politically cost-free, as schools were certain to close regardless.
If there were tensions between O'Neill and the back office she has had the last laugh. The school closure U-turn has further ruled Sinn Féin out of a national government in the Republic, with Fine Gael citing it as proof the party would not observe collective responsibility in a crisis.
Nobody expects O’Neill to blaze a reforming trail through the republican movement – she is a loyal cog in the party machine – but people are starting to think seriously about her position within it. Northern Ireland is attuned to this kind of Kremlinology.
O’Neill has shown herself to be non-confrontational in her dealings with the DUP and to have a genuine and likeable personal style. These are always useful qualities in a Stormont leader and they have particular appeal at the moment.
There was widespread sympathy for O’Neill this week when she broke down briefly in the Assembly while discussing a cancer patient losing treatment due to coronavirus preparations. Anyone can relate to the pressure politicians must be under.
The next few months will make or break governments around the world. If Stormont holds together and makes a positive contribution to tackling the epidemic, Foster and O’Neill will transform not just their own reputations but the view of what power-sharing in Northern Ireland can achieve.