Northern Ireland’s politicians must be indulged for another few months to determine if at some stage – in their own time, in the autumn perhaps, no pressure, no rush – they might like to exercise what virtually every other politician on the planet wants to exercise: power.
Last week, the secretary of state for Northern Ireland, James Brokenshire, said the "prize" of a deal to restore the Stormont power-sharing administration was still achievable. He said the same in the House of Commons on Monday evening, when giving the parties until the end of this week to break the logjam and when breaking his own legislative deadline of the previous Thursday – which it turns out was a foolhardy further extension.
But Brokenshire was correct: it is a prize – a functioning Northern Ireland Executive and Assembly run mainly by DUP and Sinn Féin ministers administering public services.There would be security and work for 90 Assembly members and their staff. Power would be exercised from Belfast, not London. There would be an extra £1 billion to spend due to the Tory-DUP deal and flexibility on how another £500 million was distributed.
And all that largesse would chiefly be distributed by the DUP and Sinn Féin, because they would be top dogs at Stormont. It would reflect to the benefit of these parties; and it would be good for Northern Ireland. We wouldn’t have elections for a while and it all might allow people to settle down a bit, to get away from the nasty sectarian and tribal Orange-versus-Green tensions of the past seven months.
But not a chance. Give a Northern Ireland politician a gift horse and they won’t just look at it in the mouth they’ll kick it in the teeth.
It was pitiful, too, to see those victims of sexual and physical abuse at church and state homes in Northern Ireland having to turn up to Stormont to lobby the politicians to strike a deal, so that they could get the badly-needed compensation promised to them in the Historical Institutional Abuse Inquiry report.
Annoyance
Their intervention didn’t work either. When Northern politicians dig in they dig in hard. “It’s remarkable,” observed one senior official source as it all came crumbling down at Stormont on Tuesday. He said it with a mixture of astonishment, annoyance and fatalistic admiration.
And it is remarkable. It would make sense if the gridlock was of such proportions that no reasonable politician could be expected to find a way through. But, according to several British and Irish and party sources, that is not the case. It’s about one issue: the Irish language.
Other issues such as the past, same sex-marriage and a bill of rights for Northern Ireland have come into the frame as well. But as one official explained these matters can be dealt with “through process”. There was consensus that resolving the language question would unlock the other problems.
In terms of the blame game it’s down to the DUP and Sinn Féin. They blame each other, of course. That has been one of the big problems: there is little trust and not much respect between the parties.
But here it is also remarkable that two weeks ago the British and Irish governments, according to well-placed sources, thought the DUP and Sinn Féin had struck a deal on the Irish language. “It seemed to be just a case of a drafting [legislation] process,” said one detached but senior source. “We don’t know where it all went wrong.”
Attitude and behaviour also come into the equation. DUP leader Arlene Foster can by times be spiky in negotiation, it is accepted, but equally Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams has a natural facility to rub up people the wrong way. Couldn't they have just left it at an honourable draw in the prickly personality stakes?
Ultimately it was Sinn Féin who said it could not live with what was on offer from the DUP. It wanted a stand-alone Irish act, while the DUP wanted Ulster Scots included in more composite legislation. DUP politicians said they were amenable to supporting the language – and Ulster Scots – but complained that Sinn Féin was ratcheting up the extent of the legislation and how it would be applied. It seemed they feared that in future people flying into Belfast or crossing the Border might think they were coming into Gaoth Dobhair or Corcha Dorcha.
Teflon party
Sinn Féin won’t be discomfited by this crash, even if the governments try to characterise it as a soft landing. Known as the “Teflon party”, they tend not be damaged by crises. It is just the way of Northern politics.
Moreover, having the next big push in September may suit the party’s wider ambitions to inflict more damage on the DUP. That could be an embarrassing and awkward time for the DUP with Foster and her former ministers and special advisers due to start appearing in front of the inquiry into the calamitous renewable-heat incentive (RHI) scheme.
But how will voters in the Republic view Sinn Féin in all this if its seven abstentionist MPs won’t use its power in Westminster and it can’t or won’t use its power at Stormont? Will they consider the party as fit for government in Leinster House whenever Taoiseach Leo Varadkar decides to call an election?
There was a sense of frustration and an opportunity lost at Stormont on Tuesday. Foster tried to strike a hopeful, conciliatory tone, saying progress could be made in the summer before the September talks.
She has made gestures to the Irish language community in Northern Ireland since her disastrous “don’t feed the crocodiles” comments when previously rejecting any notion of an Irish language act. So maybe, with some more governmental indulgence, there will be an opportunity to crack the language problem and finally restore power to Northern politicians in the autumn – presuming they want that power.
But for the moment, to use one of Foster’s recently learned and favourite phrases”, until the next and sixth deadline it is “sin é” for the talks.