Sectarianism drowns in sewers outrage

THE aftermath of the Belfast Assembly poll will not herald the End of History for the North, but it could well see the end of the hysteria.

In order finally to take the gun out of Irish politics, it was first necessary to remove the shadow of semtex from Stormont.

Now that water charges, rather than explosive charges, dominate the political landscape, will the strutting sectarian giants of the North be cut down to the size of plumped-up county councillors?

After the decision was taken by certain sections of the community to stop killing each other, the only option left was to work out how to live together.

For once, the smugness exuded by Northern Secretary Peter Hain has been partially justified, after he engineered the politically astute trick of ensuring water rate demands flooded into voters’ home as the campaign got underway.

The idea of triple price increases being meted out to restore the North’s dilapidated sewer system managed to unite both communities in anger at a common enemy, thus bringing the mundane agenda to the fore as the profane atrocities of the past faded from view.

How telling that only in a society like the North’s could outrage over sewerage help to wash the political process clean.

The initial barrage of bile Ian Paisley poured down on potential partner Sinn Féin as the DUP’s strong surge began to come through last night can only be viewed as the ritualistic posturing we have wearily become so used to.

“Sinn Féin are not entitled to be at the table until they declare their hand for democracy. I am a democrat. I do not speak to Loyalist paramilitaries. I do not talk to Sinn Féin,” he bellowed at reporters.

Off-script, the DUP leader will be emboldened to move towards cutting a deal as he has pulled off a spectacular political double.

The DUP avoided the feared leakage to the right for anti-St Andrews Agreement Loyalists, while at the same time tapping into the middle ground of liberal Unionism as the UUP voted collapsed by a third.

Mr Paisley put his longevity down to a daily dose of porridge and vinegar. Not to be outdone — and showing that Republican knack for PR smoothness — Martin McGuinness expressed a fondness for porridge and honey.

The twin revelations beg the question: how long will it be before Little Red Riding Hood’s orange and green sisters can expect to creep into Stormont and find the two stirring their oats together as First and Deputy Ministers?

However, nothing happens in the North without a row and maximum hassle.

Mr Paisley used to talk a lot about not surrendering, but as the March 26 deadline ticks down, he knows he has to deliver on the domestic agenda which helped push his vote tally past 30%.

Another key date is March 21, when Chancellor Gordon Brown delivers the British Budget and will make it pointedly clear the North only gets the financial goodies on offer if Stormont does not stall again. This opens the possibility of a two-stage resumption with a shadow Executive set-up to meet the deadline while the DUP wins more time to come to terms with the new political reality before power-sharing proper begins in May or June.

The next two weeks will be littered with barbed language and brickbats as the two sides are cajoled into shuffling grudgingly towards each other.

While Mr Paisley opens negotiations with Mr Hain today, Sinn Féin has an even bigger agenda to focus on as the party launches its push to double Dáil numbers, as part of the all-Ireland political offensive of which the North is an interlocking component.

As Belfast continues to recede from the national political consciousness of both Britain and Ireland, how ironic that come summer, England’s northern border could well cause more headaches for London than the one slicing the nine counties of Ulster. With the Scottish National Party set to emerge as the biggest bloc after devolved May elections, and set to knock Labour out of the Edinburgh Executive, Mr Brown will have a fresh constitutional crisis in his own backyard as he enters Number 10.

In what passed for a rare moment of colour in this dreariest of campaigns, Mr Paisley cast his vote at the old school of Van Morrison. Unfortunately, it is doubtful if the lyrics from Van’s Veedon Fleece were flowing through his head: “Ain’t it lonely when you’re living with a gun/You can’t slow down and you can’t turn around/ And you can’t trust anyone”.

Nobody’s talking about trust, but the gun seems to have gone, and a semtex-free Stormont is there for the taking.