THE relationship between the DUP and Sinn Féin both in the Stormont Executive and in the chamber is a curious one. And maddeningly frustrating to boot.
In order to keep the rickety institutions from falling over again – this time almost certainly never to be built back – an unwritten and wary accommodation has been reached. On matters of deep economic and social import the parties will make occasional noises designed to convince us that they are indeed at opposite ends of the left-right spectrum.
But in fact they are in grimly reluctant lockstep when it comes to the big-ticket issues of health, education and housing because they realise the alternative is political meltdown.
But since the two parties are so diametrically at odds politically and socially, steam must be let out of the system somewhere. If Sinn Féin are not being seen to inject progressive and enlightened politics into the Executive and Assembly then there arises a necessity to convince the nationalist and republican base that their corner is indeed being fought; that conservative and neoliberal forces are not governing how we live.
Hence the exhausting and depressing daily round of yapping over what might best be described as ‘culture war’ issues. A family living on the breadline in West Belfast is infinitely more likely to hear their local Sinn Féin rep take on the DUP over flags and flutes than over health and housing. The increasingly parlous state of the British economy means that any lingering hope that funds might be found to provide us with the rights and services that we deserve and have earned have disappeared. But the DUP/Sinn Féin priority of keeping the Stormont train on the rails suits one more significantly more than the other. This de facto non-aggression pact on matters of life and death ensures not only the continuance of an economic and political status quo that disadvantages the poorest and most vulnerable, it ensures that inequality deepends and widens.
But anyone who thinks that constant bickering over commemorations, parades, football matches and music is a harmless way of relieving tensions is kidding themselves. The incessant, sour-faced fury that the DUP and Sinn Féin trade over matters of identity leaves us all angry and exhausted; it sucks the goodwill from our daily lives and favours the loudmouths ahead of the thinkers. And most importantly, of course, it allows sell-outs and surrenders to the new Labour austerity to be agreed in the background.
What does it say about our political institutions when debates about football matches and loyal parades engender more passion than debates about hungry children and cancer patients? What does it say about us as a society that we are continually willing to accept bluster on ephemera as a substitute for integrity?
We need – or should we say we demand – that those we elect engage in the fights that need fighting and leave the faux fury to the radio phone-ins.
