A FEW years ago, during a television interview, the then chairman of Sinn Féin, Mitchel McLaughlin, was asked whether republicans believed fundamental political and social change would be necessary in the South to facilitate the type of united Ireland his party had in mind.
“You bet your life we do,” snapped McLaughlin, with uncharacteristic vehemence.
His response was too instinctive to be anything but sincere. And for me, it was heartening. It confirmed my suspicion that at least some within the leadership of the mainstream republican movement were aware an all-island state worth the candle could not be accomplished by simply tacking the North on to an unreconstructed South (with Northern Protestants expected to either fit in or ship out).
McLaughlin had, albeit inadvertently, highlighted the sharp distinction that exists between extreme nationalism (Irish, or otherwise) and authentic Irish republicanism. Simply put, the first is about forced homogeneity. The second is about moulding a nation to fit the diversity of its peoples.
McLaughlin's retort came to mind while I was reading an opinion piece by current Sinn Féin chairman Declan Kearney in An Phoblacht (it is online at iti.ms/GL0jDv) dated March 5th last.
There is nothing accidental in what Kearney has to say. In an impressively open and honest piece, he makes crystal clear that the all-island state envisaged by mainstream republicans will indeed be genuinely reflective of, and sympathetic to, all of its peoples.
And, he maintains, as part of the process towards achieving that goal, republicans must build bridges with their unionist neighbours. None of which is particularly new, except on this occasion the clarity of language and the hard questioning of some republican attitudes leave no room for a fair-minded person to doubt the sincerity of the message.
Kearney writes that republicans need to be courageous and set aside their own assumptions “to better understand the fears and apprehensions of Protestants and unionists – and to listen unconditionally to what they have to say”.
And, more pointedly still, “We speak about nation building, but we need to be prepared to define engagement in terms beyond what suits ourselves. Engagement is not a strategy to make unionists into republicans.”
It is not necessary to be republican-minded to appreciate and give full due to the attempts by Sinn Féin to build bridges with unionists and Protestants. Why, one might ask, would unionists not be tempted to join with their fellow Irishmen and Irishwomen in creating the type of New Ireland that republicans describe? What is there to fear?
The popular view is that Northern Protestants, through a mix of ultra-British sentiment and inherent sectarianism, despise all things Irish.
Like most easy theories about entire communities, it isn’t quite that simple. As we embark upon a decade of anniversaries (Ulster Covenant, Easter Rising, Battle of the Somme, War of Independence, Government of Ireland Act, Civil War and Partition, to name a few), the Irish Government has, sensibly in my view, appointed a panel of historians who will “seek to set a tone that is inclusive and non-triumphalist, ensuring authenticity, proportionality and openness”.
Some members of this panel were interviewed on BBC Northern Ireland’s Hearts and Minds programme last week. All were of the opinion that, ultimately, Edward Carson brought about the Easter Rising by his illegal campaign of opposition to Home Rule. I wonder whether any of the historians have stopped to consider why Carson, a Dubliner, and his co-religionists were so set against Home Rule (or “Rome Rule” as they so disparagingly and, as it turned out, accurately described it).
Could past experience – history – have had anything to do with it? Once before, in 1798, Protestants and Dissenters had joined with their Catholic countrymen (and women) to establish (by force of arms) an independent Irish republic.
The British may have crushed the 1798 rebellion in a physical sense, but it wasn’t they who crushed the ideal of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter in the hearts of the first and last categories. That was accomplished by the sectarian orgies launched by supposed fellow United Irishmen in the south of the country.
In places like Scullabogue, hundreds of “non-Catholics” were being put to death, while the likes of George Orr, Henry Monroe, Henry Joy McCracken, Betsy Gray and countless others were filling Presbyterian and Protestant graves in the North.
Over time, the finer details of 1798 were largely forgotten or airbrushed from Protestant history, but a deep sense of betrayal lingered, and an abiding distrust was passed like a bitter heirloom down through subsequent generations.
The British eventually bought off the Protestants and Dissenters (those who hadn’t already taken flight to America, to a real republic) but they didn’t require much buying. They had learned through hard experience where their best interests lay.
The distrust that Sinn Féin must seek to overcome – which is often inexplicable even to the majority of those who hold it – was not caused but reinforced by the recent 30-odd years of conflict. Deep bitterness, centuries old, exists on all sides. I wish Sinn Féin well – they are at least making the effort.