We should be glad Sinn Féin reminded us of its true colours
IN A properly functioning democracy, we would currently have a stable government with a united vision, a clear mandate and the willingness to park petty squabbles and personal pride in their efforts to help the nation in our current hour of crisis.
Similarly, in a properly functioning democracy, we would have a strong and capable Opposition which was ready and willing to hold the Government to account while also contributing their own constructive ideas.
Sadly, we haven’t been a properly functioning democracy since February and this patchwork coalition seems to have decided that the first order of business is the split.
The ructions within Fianna Fáil and the petulant responses from those who felt unfairly overlooked for a ministerial seat was bad enough until Barry Cowen’s revelation about being busted for drink driving – while on a provisional license – came to light and created a whole new world of embarrassment for this fledgling Government.
The inner-party turmoil, the fact that the controlling parties are all enduring their own factions fighting each other and the inherently unstable prospect of an historic coalition between Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael should all be manna from heaven for any capable Opposition.
But as much as we’re looking at a newly formed government which already appears to have disaster written all over it, the Opposition seems determined to make even more egregious mistakes than their rivals.
The decision by Mary Lou McDonald, Pearse Doherty and other southern Sinn Féin grandees to attend the funeral of a feared terrorist in Belfast last week was, depending on your point of view, a remarkable act of political naivety or a principled decision to mark the passing of the man McDonald referred to as a “good friend”.
With friends like these, eh?
If you had only taken Sinn Féin’s word for it, you would assume that Bobby Storey was a puppy-loving, baby-kissing, Nelson Mandela for our times (indeed, one Sinn Féin supporter actually tweeted that comparison before hastily deleting it).
The reality, of course, is rather different. The head of the IRA’s intelligence operations, the man behind the massive Northern Bank robbery and someone who flooded the streets of the Republic of Ireland with illegal cigarettes, he may have been many things, but a gentle soul he was not.
Just as they tried to play down the controversy last week, another branch boasted that there had been 1,800 mourners lining the roads of Belfast.
So was it a case of do as I say, not as I do? Certainly, the fact that Michelle O’Neill actually broke the guidelines she herself helped to compile shows either a level of stupidity or sheer hubris which would be hard to comprehend from any other party.
But Sinn Féin is not like any other party, a fact it clings to when it suits its antiestablishment image, but bristles against when its critics make the very same point.
In a political world where shades of grey are the most prevalent colour, the Shinners like to boast about their outsider credentials and, in fairness, they have been spectacularly successful in their endeavours.
Insisting that we all forget about the IRA atrocities, their mantra of ‘change, change, change’ has worked with the credulous and historically illiterate.
But McDonald’s decision to attend the funeral of a senior terrorist who sat at the top of the so called IRA ‘army council’ was as eloquent a reminder of its past and present as any of its critics could have mustered.
That the current leader of this country’s Opposition then boasted that she would have attended the funeral, even if she was Taoiseach, was a chilling reminder of just how important it was to keep her away from government. Surely even those who were happy to engage in some recreational amnesia and forget the carnage caused by its military wing will have winced at the footage of so many senior politicians wilfully ignoring the social distancing rules?
Or have people so greedily swigged from the Sinn Féin/IRA Kool-Aid that they are prepared to forgive even that?
The fact that Belfast City Council was yesterday forced to make a grovelling apology to eight families who were denied the right to attend a loved one’s cremation on the same day so many people turned out for Storey’s send-off would be humiliating for anyone else.
But this is not a party that deals in humiliation and if McDonald and O’Neill’s subsequent and very half-hearted comments are taken at face value, they don’t really do apologies either.
The pair of them offered virtually identical non-apology apologies, expressing regret for any ‘hurt’ that may have been caused to grieving families who played by the rules and stayed away from the cemetery.
It was weapons-grade hypocrisy from a party which knows more about weapons than most.
Its supporters have been quick to use the usual Sinn Féin playbook – when criticised, play the victim and start squealing about the media and west Brits.
However, to all but the most committed Shinnerbot, it was an appalling sight – a show of force masquerading as an act of compassion for their ‘friend’.
After all, lots of people have died since the arrival of Covid-19, and they were all friends of someone.
But in many ways, those of us who would spoil our ballot before voting for them should perhaps be grateful for this faux pas.
After all, what better reminder of where their real loyalties lie than the sight of the party leadership gathering to publicly pay respects to a renowned terrorist and criminal?
They really haven’t gone away, you know.
It was weapons grade hypocrisy from a party which knows more about weapons than most