THE unity of the island of Ireland is “not where my priority is today”, said Tánaiste Simon Harris, speaking recently during his first visit to Stormont since the formation of the new Dublin government.
As policy statements go, this one rather lacked the element of novelty or surprise. A Fine Gael leader expressing – or practising – indifference towards Irish citizens in the North is nothing new. During his time as Taoiseach, Mr Harris’s predecessor Leo Varadkar – like all Fine Gael leaders before him – showed all the yearning and passion for unity of an Irish Times leader writer. Leo occasionally draped himself in the palest of green flags whenever he sniffed a Sinn Féin surge in the air, but otherwise he was content to treat Belfast and Derry rather as King Charles treats remote empire colonies.
And so it seemed surprising when, on his retirement from frontline politics, Mr Varadkar committed himself to the pursuit of a united Ireland with such passion and robustness that it drew a rebuke from then Secretary of State Chris Heaton Harris. Unabashed, the newly feisty Mr Varadkar said he had a right to state his case on the national question – and that he would continue to do so.
Since he had nothing to gain politically from his new-found devotion to unity, could it have been the case that we were wrong all along about Mr Varadkar? That he’s in fact more John Devoy than John Bruton? While a thrilling prospect, that idea couldn’t be further from the truth. Mr Varadkar is currently attached to a world leaders’ teaching programme at Harvard and while his chronic timidity with regard to the six lost counties may have gone down well during dinners with the British, Americans expect rather more from their Irish leaders. The prosaic and rather grubby truth is that Mr Varadkar’s stock as a united Irelander is worth a lot more in the United States than his stock as the ‘Love, Actually’ fanboy who succumbed to an embarrassing fit of excitement on his first visit to No.10.
All of which is to say that while Taoisigh past and present in the normal run of things can be relied upon not to ruin the post-dinner cigars and brandy in the clubs of Mayfair and Pall Mall, if there’s a transactional benefit in digging out and donning the Sam Browne... on that iconic belt will go.
And so it is for Mr Harris as he twiddles his thumbs in his Tánaiste ante-chamber waiting for Taoiseach Micheál Martin to step aside and give him another go at the big job. Sinn Féin had an indifferent election, so the Nordie-led oiks have been kept at bay – for now.
But this coalition promises to make the last one look robust in comparison, as we see in the unravelling of the cunning plan to take power by giving the Regional Independent group the Mercs and perks of the government benches along with the Get Out of Jail Free card of opposition. And if there’s benefit to be had in a changed political landscape from singing a rebel song, Simon Harris won’t be slow to step up to the mic.
