What does it mean when a Northern Ireland First Minister declares him or herself a “First Minister for everyone”?
Given that presidents, prime ministers and even dictators usually say much the same thing when they find themselves on the top rung of authority, should we set any store by the words?
Or is just an expected cliché, something you say for the mere sake of saying it?
Michelle O’Neill went further than any other Sinn Féin leader has done during her attendance and wreath-laying on Remembrance Sunday.
I’m not sure she would have gone that far – or felt it necessary to go that far – had she been deputy rather than first minister. Indeed, she was heavily criticised by elements of republicanism, including some in her own Mid Ulster constituency and neighbouring parts of Tyrone and Derry.
She was also criticised by elements – although the numbers seemed quite small – of unionism and loyalism, many of whom believed that her “no alternative” (to the IRA campaign) comments in August 2022 meant that her position on Remembrance Sunday was both hypocritical and an insult to members of the armed forces who had been murdered by the IRA.
But it’s likely that she would have been criticised by broader unionism and loyalism had she not attended. She is now, after all, “a first minister for everyone”: and that means, doesn’t it, that she is required to put herself in uncomfortable positions?
When she was made “no alternative” remark to Mark Carruthers in August 2022 she was first minister designate, because the assembly hadn’t been restored, making it impossible for her to be formally appointed to the role.
I sometimes wonder how she would have responded to Mark’s question had she been the first minister at the time rather than designate.
Anyway, I think she was right to attend and right to see the ceremony through to its conclusion.
As I’ve noted many times before, Northern Ireland remains in a position of conflict stalemate rather than conflict resolution; and it also remains a long way from genuine reconciliation and an agreed understanding of the collective way forward.
In societal, political, constitutional and electoral terms we are divided. And that continuing division mean that political representatives – right the way up the chain from councillor, MLA, MP, Minister and First Minister – will have to make complex decisions on what they say and where they decide to go.
The nature of what I do as a commentator and writer means that I have had long and very difficult conversations with terrorists (and I know that people don’t even like that particular description) from both sides of the conflict.
Partly because I want to know why they chose to join paramilitary organisations, and also because I want to know what they think 30 years on from the August and October ceasefires in 1994.
What strikes me most is the number of them who tell me that there is still a ‘long, long way’ to go before the past really is the past.
And that, to a certain extent, explains why particular occasions can still cause problems.
For so long as the past remains anchored in the present and the future is still being determined by a mountain of difficult memories, competing narratives and unfinished business, then for so long will the first and deputy first ministers (along with other party leaders and executive ministers) be forced, to paraphrase Yeats, to ‘tread softly because you tread on crumbling ground’.
Offence is very easily given when trust is a devalued currency. Every motive of your opponent – as they are still regarded in conflict stalemate – will be questioned.
Every decision you, or they, make will be measured against the yardstick of whether it is too much, too soon for your electoral base.
Doing something for the right reason – because you believe it to be in the best collective interests – will often be interpreted as strategy rather than sincerity.
You’re damned by the past. Condemned by the present. And a traitor to the future.
Stalemate is a windowless, doorless, psychological Alcatraz.
Which brings me to the executive. It needs to become an executive for everyone.
If the first and deputy first ministers are – and no offence to them – the show pieces for the big two communities, then the executive must be the place where the hard work, difficult decisions and committed follow-through happen.
It cannot be a place which facilitates stalemate. It must not be a place where the past comes to be nurtured.
All ministers around that executive table must be ministers for everyone. If they’re not: well then, it’s a huge victory for old days and old ways.
When the past wins, we’re condemned to repeat it on continuous loop.