Those were strange scenes at Stormont last week, with two ministers voting against the budget and a third slipping out of the chamber before the vote was taken. But
after four years of stability, the Northern Ireland executive is so rock solid even
a cabinet revolt leaves it unmoved.
Like the signs that shopkeepers put up after bomb attacks during the Troubles, it
was business as usual for a government that includes nearly every party but is,
effectively, run by just two of them.
In any other administration, as first minister Peter Robinson pointed out, ministers
would be sacked for such high-profile opposition to the government they served in.
In fact, it is difficult to imagine such an administration surviving anywhere else.
Instead, nothing much happened in Stormont except a lot of hot air and insulting
language in the chamber. The budget, as one headline put it, was "bludgeoned
through" anyway by the combined might of Sinn Féin and the DUP, aided by the
Alliance Party's sole minister, David Ford. The miscreants who broke ranks were
Michael McGimpsey and Danny Kennedy of the UUP, who voted against, and Alex Attwood
of the SDLP, who made himself scarce at the crucial moment.
McGimpsey, whose health department accounts for more than 40% of the Stormont
budget, was the key player. For months he had been refusing to accept cuts in his
budget, and making media appearances to condemn the DUP/Sinn Féin majority, who he
said controlled the executive. "Despicable behaviour," Robinson said of his fellow
unionists, as he praised Sinn Féin ministers for the responsible manner in which
they had absorbed cuts to their departmental budgets.
The UUP had taken legal advice and been warned that they were in breach of their
pledge of office if they did not back the budget once it was passed at the
executive, as had happened a week earlier. They were told of a loophole: if they
abstained they might get away with it because the executive had failed to formally
impose a whip, and anyway there was a precedent. Two DUP ministers hadn't been in
the chamber for a budget vote in 2008. That was what Attwood, himself a lawyer, was
counting on. However, in the councils of the UUP, a more gung-ho attitude prevailed
and they opted for the grand gesture, legal or not.
In fact, they knew it was safe to do so. Martin McGuinness, the deputy first
minister, told me, for publication on the morning of the budget debate, that no
action would be taken whatever the UUP and SDLP did. McGuinness was at his most
avuncular, appearing saddened rather than angered by the behaviour of the smaller
parties. "By nature, I am not into recriminating against people," he said. "I am
certainly not one for penalising people on issues like this."
He shook a reproving finger at the errant ministers, suggesting they would only
bring trouble to themselves.
"If people step outside the institutions or break their undertakings as executive
members, then let them face the electorate on that issue," he said. "The electorate
can decide whether or not their position was an honest one." The DUP declined to
comment but it was clear that they were at one with Sinn Féin on this one.
Next day McGuinness confirmed the comments reported, and said much the same to UTV.
So the UUP knew before taking their defiant gesture that it would be free of
consequences. "We will vote as a party, ministers and all," one of them said. The
SDLP wasn't sure whether to take McGuinness at his word and adopted the cautious
option just in case.
The old arrangements were turned on their heads. Suddenly the UUP and SDLP were the
awkward parties and Sinn Féin and the DUP the cautious, responsible ones. Ian Knox,
the Irish News cartoonist, caught the moment. He depicted Robinson and McGuinness as
two head teachers looking across a desk at McGimpsey, Kennedy and Attwood clad in
hoodies and baseball caps. "We are shocked that for reasons of narrow political
self-interest you continue to say no," the "headmasters" are telling the defiant
ministers.
Behind them on the wall is an old "Ulster Says No" DUP poster and a picture of a
uniformed IRA man giving a clenched-fist salute.
In the cartoon, Robinson and McGuinness have a travelling bag marked "Washington".
It gives a clue to the reasons for the mild response. The first and deputy first
ministers are heading off to the White House on Tuesday to spend the best part of
the St Patrick's Day festival schmoozing for Ulster with the help of Hillary Clinton
and Declan Kelly, the US economic envoy to Ireland.
They badly need American investment to plug the gaping holes in the budget, and so
far they have been fairly good at getting it. This time they need to highlight their
hopes for a reduction in corporation tax to match Dublin rates, their unity of
purpose, and their achievement in bringing four years of stability to the province.
The last thing they need is to go slinging ministers out of office and focusing
attention on the grievances of the three rebels. To paraphrase Margaret Thatcher's
justification for keeping Sinn Féin and the IRA off the airwaves, Robinson and
McGuinness were determined to deny the oxygen of publicity to small,
unrepresentative groups such as the SDLP and the UUP.
The main worry, McGuinness told me, was that ministers would resign. That might have
collapsed the executive so that d'Hondt, the mathematical formula by which ministers
are picked, would have had to be run to exclude them. That wouldn't have suited
either of the big parties as the immediate backdrop to their Washington trip.
Nor would it suit the DUP to enter the May 5 elections as the only unionist party in
government with Sinn Féin. "The DUP needs our buy-in," as Tom Elliott, the UUP
leader, put it.
So it was sensible politics for McGuinness to let the rebel ministers know there was
no need to resign before voting against the budget because they weren't going to be
taken to court anyway. Resignations would, he said, "have been a more immediate
problem ... if they want to fight the election on the issue of budget cuts, let
them".
The whole incident demonstrates the increasing proficiency of the DUP and Sinn Féin
in handling potential crises. They understand each other's needs and trust is
gradually creeping in. The assembly was often suspended, even collapsed, when the
UUP and SDLP were the main parties and has now enjoyed four years of stability. That
is an achievement worth celebrating.
However, it isn't the end of history.
The next four years will be more difficult economically than the last. The challenge
for Stormont is to make hard decisions quickly and efficiently without all the
theatrics and brinkmanship we now endure.
Under the Good Friday agreement, every party of more than a few members is entitled
as of right to seats in government.
More than 100 out of the 108 MLAs are in governing parties and no administration can
easily achieve that sort of consensus. It only encourages the formation of an
internal opposition, as has now happened.
The new assembly may need to consider legislating for an official opposition with
funding, speaking rights and access to official papers that such a body enjoys in
Westminster or the UK regional assemblies.
