What now for the North after the exit of unionism’s big hitter?

● The former DUP leader’s shocking departure could spark lasting and widespread despair

Rumours began circulating on social media late on Thursday that a huge political story was about to break in Northern Ireland. Few could have foreseen just how seismic it would turn out to be.

Leo Varadkar’s recent resignation as taoiseach and Fine Gael leader was described as a “political earthquake” — but the sudden downfall of the now former DUP leader Jeffrey Donaldson after being charged with historical sex offences, including rape, makes that seem like the gentlest of earth tremors by comparison.

Normally at such moments, there will be a flood of know-it-alls stepping up to insist that they suspected something of the sort all along; had heard whispers; never liked his face.

But though Sir Jeffrey — as he has been known since being knighted by the Queen in 2016 — was disliked by many, and could be seen as an awkcentrist and spiky character, everyone was taken by complete surprise.

Donaldson’s resignation letter insisted that he will be “strenuously contesting” all the charges.

In the meantime, of course, he was immediately suspended by both his party and the Orange Order.

Given the nature of the accusations, there’s not much else that can be said about the case itself.

More to the point, there’s not much that should be said. Donaldson and co-accused — his 57-yearold wife, Eleanor, who has also been charged with “aiding and abetting additional offences” — are both due back in court in Newry next month.

Prejudicing a legal process once it is under way is not a course of action anyone should enter into lightly.

Politically speaking, though, it’s no exaggeration to say that his departure in such circumstances is a hammer blow not only for the DUP, but for unionism as a whole, and one from which it will struggle to recover in the short term, coming as it does at a time when the community has been struck with repeated shocks.

Nationalism as a political, civic and cultural force is on the advance.

Sinn Féin’s deputy leader Michelle O’Neill is now First Minister. At the last Westminster election, more nationalists than unionists were elected for the first time. The last census found that numbers in the North identifying as Catholics were now greater than that of Protestants.

None of that equates automatically to Irish unity winning out in any Border poll; but in contrast to the confidence with which nationalism is facing the future, unionists as a community have rarely felt less sure about their place in an increasingly disunited United Kingdom.

All that has sapped morale. But nothing, not even Brexit, comes close to matching this latest development’s capacity to undermine and destabilise their sense of self.

With patience and delicacy, the argument over the North’s “in/out” relationship with both the EU and UK was being managed. The restoration of a devolved assembly at Stormont was part of that process of coping.

Indeed, it’s arguable that Jeffrey Donaldson was the only senior politician in the DUP who could have got the Stormont deal over the line against internal opposition.

Even many of his critics in the

DUP backed him as the last hope to restore normality. His departure leaves a dangerous vacuum.

Some leaching of support to the more hardline Traditional Unionist Voice bloc seems inevitable. The only question is how big it will be.

There are opportunities for the Ulster Unionist Party under Doug Beattie to reassert itself as the moderate voice of unionist opinion; but that is not guaranteed either.

It could be that last week’s events will merely reinforce the apathy which has seen increasing numbers of disillusioned middle-class unionists opting out of politics altogether.

The nature of the charges against Donaldson are so repulsive to decency that it may sow in them the seeds of a more lasting despair.

That’s what gives this distressing episode the power to seriously demoralise the whole unionist family.

They urgently need a new, unifying face — and there isn’t much time to find one, nor any obvious candidate.

The one who has stepped up to face the fire for now is Gavin Robinson, the East Belfast MP who is now interim leader of the DUP.

Obviously shell-shocked by events, he nonetheless spoke with measured gravity on Friday as the scale of the scandal became clear — and that was perhaps the one ray of light.

Parties in the North have not always handled crises well. As with SF’s reaction to historical abuses in its own ranks, they have a tendency to either turn inwards or lash out.

The DUP may yet fall prey to that. So far, it has responded with matuward rity, with Robinson stressing both its unanimity and commitment to “making Northern Ireland work”.

The new Assembly is only eight weeks old after years of suspensions, rendering it vulnerable by definition.

Precedent alone would not leave you hopeful that it could withstand another upheaval. The very fact that the nature of this emergency is so grotesquely unprecedented may be what saves it.

With the exception of some illjudged comments from TUV leader Jim Allister about the need to end support for the Irish Sea border, there is no sign of any serious figure in the North exploiting the story for short-term political advantage.

Even if nationalists wanted to use it to wound unionism, there is no need. The damage is already done.

There is also a deeper understanding that there but for the grace of God goes every party, every family, every community — hostages to the strangest fortunes, as they all are.

These anguishes have no creed or colour, no ideology or religion. They’re neither green nor orange.

Whatever else happens going forward, all that really matters in the end is that the two alleged victims at the heart of this story are supported.

They’re real people, not characters in a soap opera. It is them alone to whom our hearts must go out.

All else pales into insignificance.