On February 8, 2000, Sinn Féin President Gerry Adams issues a stark warning that he is ready to walk away from the Northern Ireland peace process if the Government re-imposes direct rule from Westminster.
Adams tells reporters, “I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life trying to shore up a process that is going to be in perpetual crisis.” His words are taken as those of an exhausted and deeply frustrated politician, angry that the bulk of the blame for the impasse has been directed at him and his colleagues.
They also raise, in a very stark way, the question of what effect the suspension of the new political institutions will have on Sinn Féin. In the days leading up to Adams’s announcement, the efforts of London and Dublin are primarily directed at saving David Trimble‘s leadership of his party. Peter Mandelson, MP for Hartlepool, emphasises the importance of this in the House of Commons on February 8. To abandon Trimble at this time would be seen as a betrayal that would even further harden political attitudes in the broad unionist community.
This leads to both governments putting a degree of pressure on the republican movement, Sinn Féin as well as the Irish Republican Army (IRA), which is having entirely predictable and dangerous results. The old, familiar sense of beleaguered isolation, summed up in the party’s name, is reasserting itself. Adams has told the British government that he believes his position as Sinn Féin’s president will very quickly become untenable if the political institutions are suspended. The most common reaction to this news is, “Well, he would, wouldn’t he?” The inference is that Adams is firing a warning shot across the bows of both governments, that there are two parties to this dispute and both need to be protected.
There is deep pessimism among republicans about what will happen if the Executive is suspended for any length of time. The fear is that it will be extremely difficult, probably impossible, to put it together again. Over a period of weeks and months, confidence in the political process, already pretty fragile at grass roots level, will likely ebb even further. Adams, Martin McGuinness, Mitchel McLauglin and others closely identified with the move to a political strategy will be seen to have failed.
One Sinn Féin source, a staunch supporter of the peace process, says, “Already there’s a widespread suspicion that we’ve been suckered into this by the British government, helped by Dublin. The long-term aim has always been to destroy Sinn Féin politically. There’s no pressure on the loyalists to disarm because they don’t represent a political threat. If Adams is seen to have misjudged this, what else can he do but resign?”
Many dismiss this as the old republican paranoia coming once again into play. But it is important to understand how this crisis appears to very many people within Sinn Féin. It is not just a matter of a hundred or so IRA activists seeing the hand-over of weapons as a surrender. There has always been a profound suspicion of politics, not only within the IRA, but at many other levels. Politics has always failed to deliver the holy grail of a united Ireland.
Some of these people believe that Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness are cynical opportunists who have sold out for the rewards of office. Many more see them as sincere, but mistaken, in their strategy. They genuinely believe that they have been seduced by the British government, probably with the active co-operation of Dublin, by the promise of political progress. Now they are in a position where Sinn Féin is carrying all the opprobrium for the breakdown.
If, as seems likely, it is necessary to hold an election for a new assembly, Sinn Féin will be greatly weakened. The party’s hopes of taking Dáil seats will also be diminished. As Sinn Féin is seen to lose ground, there will almost certainly be a drift back to violence, sporadic at first, but gathering momentum.
This conspiracy theory, and the bleak scenario it predicts probably sounds utterly fanciful to many, those who lay the blame for this threat to the peace process squarely on the IRA. Possibly the republican movement is simply preparing itself for a retreat to the political trenches, and putting forward reasons to justify this. But there is also a danger that such an interpretation of what has happened could gain much wider credibility in the nationalist community in Northern Ireland.
There is a profound sense of disappointment that the Executive is about to be suspended. It is quite striking how many professional interest groups – doctors, teachers, farmers – express their satisfaction with local politicians and a reluctance to go back to dealing with “remote, ignorant, arrogant” British ministers.
For nationalists there has been the added satisfaction of seeing their own elected representatives taking up posts in government and performing well. For the first time, many of them feel that they are equal citizens in Northern Ireland. Now, it seems, that could be put at risk, to save David Trimble’s “pretty valuable” skin.
If this does prove to be the case, sympathy will swing back to Sinn Féin. Within his own community, Adams is not seen as having betrayed the peace process. On the contrary, along with John Hume, he is seen as one of its main architects. If Adams had decided to resign the leadership of his party, or had been forced to do so, it would have been seen by many nationalists as proving that politics, within the context of Northern Ireland, cannot work.
(From: “What future if Adams walks away from peace efforts now?” by Mary Holland, The Irish Times, http://www.irishtimes.com, February 10, 2000)
seamus dubhghaill 