Does the IRA still exist? - Sinn Fein struggle to sound credible

THERE is a significant swathe of people who will never vote for Sinn Féin no matter what the party does, says, proposes or promises.

Equally, but more bewilderingly, there is another swathe who will vote for Sinn Féin no matter how the party’s credibility is challenged, its policies sundered or behaviour and alliances exposed. Both positions seem absolute and show how powerful a force emotion is in our political life.

The scandal around the Maíria Cahill saga when she exposed an IRA rapist and the subsequent ordeal she faced when she was offered the tender mercies of an IRA kangaroo court, and subsequent revelations that a number of abusers had been “exiled” to the Republic, did not dampen support for Sinn Féin in any way. That Teflon spirit also applies to the assertion repeated ad nauseam by party leader — since 1983 — Gerry Adams that he was not a member of the IRA.

For one group of voters these issues exemplify the credibility question at the very heart of the party. For another group, they seem matters of profound indifference.

The current furore about the continued existence, or not, of the Provisional IRA falls into the same category. Sinn Féin supporters are probably indifferent — some may even be silently comforted by the prospect, after all the IRA is/was the wellspring of their power. Their opponents feel that their visceral mistrust of the party has been again vindicated.

Apart at all from the facts around the issues, if they can ever be established in a way that might be accepted by all parties, it shows that we often and sadly learn our politics and our history with our hearts rather than our heads. This kink, this vulnerability, this less than rational behaviour will undoubtedly play out across the island next year when different organisations re-imagine the events of 1916, and their ultimate impact, in different ways. To use a phrase reactivated in recent days the 2016 dramas will indulge convenient fictions — as do nearly all commemorations marking just one dimension of a conflict.

Fianna Fáil leader Micheál Martin’s forthright challenge to Sinn Féin yesterday, and his unambiguous assertion that he did not trust the party, stands in stark contrast to the polite, kid-gloves position adopted by Fine Gael. Despite the fact that there are as many sub plots in this pre-elections story as there are versions of Irish history, a more rigorous approach would have been more appropriate.

Of course, the tragedy is the unending, cyclical nature of the great difficulty those who once pursued their objectives with only an ArmaLite have when they reject violence and become politicians. A seamless transition seems impossible especially if the trappings — power and wealth — secured at the point of a gun remain more attractive to a rump of an organisation than the grind of democratic politics.

Just as the generation that came to the fore in the 1970s reinvented the IRA their successors have probably done the same even if to pursue entirely different objectives that cannot be masked by a declaration of political intent. Sinn Féin, if they wish to confound their critics, have a central role to play in ensuring they fail. They must help break the cycle.