After the Northern Irish electorate heads to the polls tomorrow, it is more likely than not that we will see a Sinn Féin first minister in Stormont. This would be a watershed moment in the state’s history, ending a century of unionist dominance in the Northern Irish legislature. The symbolic importance of this can hardly be overstated. But the practical implications are knotty and will likely mean little, for now.
Recent polling has seen Sinn Féin—synonymous with Northern Irish republicanism—boast a clear lead over its unionist counterpart, the Democratic Unionist Party. This trend has been apparent for some time now: Sinn Féin is pulling ahead, the DUP is faltering. And coming up behind them is Alliance, a party that offers an alternative path in an electoral landscape long governed by the strictures of unionism versus nationalism, and adjacently, Protestantism versus Catholicism.
In Westminster, there is a tendency to understand these shifting sands as the sole product of a surge in Sinn Féin’s popularity, and as a direct analogue for rising nationalist sentiment. There is some truth to this, but we can more accurately attribute this changing landscape to two things: the fracturing of the unionist vote; and the emergence of voters who see neither nationalism nor unionism as electoral priorities. When thinking about the constitutional future of the state, we should keep a close eye on this latter bloc.
The DUP—a pro-Brexit party of conservative sensibilities—is failing to cater for an increasingly large swathe of unionist voters. Its open support of Brexit, among an electorate that overwhelmingly voted to remain in the European Union, could be one reason. Its rightward drift on social questions could be another. Edwin Poots—who had a brief stint at the helm of the party last year—is a vocal creationist who, like many of his peers, opposes the decriminalisation of abortion. The party has a history of hostility towards same-sex marriage, too. That seems to have caused problems for those of a more moderate disposition.
There are other places for disenchanted voters to look—the Ulster Unionist Party, for one. But that risks splintering the unionist vote and paving an even clearer route to a Sinn Féin majority. This threat could inspire disillusioned DUP supporters to offer the party reluctant support, which may well upset the direction this election is heading. But it is unlikely to totally derail it.
Even if Sinn Féin’s electoral horse comes in as expected, it will not actually grant its Northern Irish leader Michelle O’Neill with any more technical power than before. Thanks to the provisions of the Good Friday Agreement, and latterly the St Andrew’s Agreement, the deputy first minister and the first minister are of equal stature and influence in the Assembly: a diarchy of sorts. Sinn Féin have held the right to fill the role of deputy first minister since 2007.
The practical problems a Sinn Féin victory would face run even deeper. The assembly functions on a power-sharing arrangement between the nationalist and unionist communities and their political representatives. Without the cooperation of both, there cannot be a government, only a zombie legislature. This power-sharing agreement collapsed in 2017 over an energy scandal. It was reinvigorated in 2020 only to collapse again this February, thanks to DUP protest against the Northern Irish Protocol. In fact, since the devolved administration of Northern Ireland was established in 1999, it has been non-running 37 per cent of the time.
There is every possibility that the parties will not work together after this election, at least without serious concessions from either Sinn Féin or the DUP. Westminster may have the power to unlock a stalemate by compromising on the Protocol. But it is always liable to stutter to a halt again.
There is growing discontent from some blocs over the suitability of this arrangement. And there are increasingly loud whispers that the basis on which Stormont is run has outlived its usefulness.
So this election is in some ways a contradiction in terms: the possibility of Sinn Féin returning the first ever nationalist first minister is of enormous symbolic importance, but in practice O’Neill will wield no more power than before; the Northern Irish electorate might be moving one way, but that does not mean its executive will be run smoothly; and while Sinn Féin’s rise seems to point to growing nationalist sentiment, reunification is not even close to a foregone conclusion. Polling does not indicate Ireland—North or South—is necessarily ready to have such conversations yet.
In many senses this feels like the recent story of Northern Ireland writ large. It is a place of vertiginous change and high-stakes political battles. But it is also one where stagnation and gordian knots reign supreme.
