It's the kind of publicity that money can't buy. So frequent was the honking
of horns from passing motorists that we struggled to hear Gerry Adams as he
launched Sinn Féin's election billboard campaign outside party offices on
the Falls Road.
Sinn Féin is the master of manipulation but there was nothing orchestrated
here. Battered black taxis, family saloons, even the odd sports' car,
joined in the cacophony of support. An open-top double-decker, which
transports tourists around Belfast, stopped so the spectacle could be
filmed.
The SDLP would have received a very different greeting. It's not that
anybody would have driven at them - well, not unless Michael McDowell was
there - it's just that they inspire so little interest these days.
They're not hated in nationalist areas, just increasingly ignored. The SDLP
mightn't say so but it has every reason to feel hard done by. Despite all
Sinn Féin's republican rhetoric, it has no great strategy to achieve a
united Ireland.
In practical terms, it lives with partition just as easily as does its
rival. Nor is there any substantial difference between the pair on social
and economic issues. The SDLP, rather unfairly, has a more conservative
image. But in government at Stormont, Sinn Féin proved to be no rip-roaring
radicals.
And when they eventually get back for a more prolonged period, they'll be as
capable as any other mainstream party of shutting schools and hospitals. In
terms of international policies, it's also much of a muchness.
Sinn Féin shouted its anti-Iraq war slogans louder but its leaders would
have been first in the queue to shake George W's hand had they been invited
to the White House on St Paddy's Day.
The SDLP will naturally insist there is one major difference. It isn't
associated with those who have criminal empires or stab to death members of
their own community.
However, the moral high ground isn't proving advantageous. It's the SDLP
facing potentially devastating losses in the approaching Westminster
election. Sinn Féin's four seats are safe. At least two of the SDLP's
three aren't. To secure the third - South Down - sitting MP Eddie McGrady
had to postpone retirement.
Newry and Armagh is a goner. Foyle is the big one. Its loss would be a
back-breaker for the SDLP. Mark Durkan's resignation would be guaranteed.
The SDLP were ahead by 1,500 votes in the Assembly election two years ago.
Sinn Féin has previously devoured such leads elsewhere.
It has been uncharacteristically quiet regarding Foyle. It knows the stakes
are immense and is working tirelessly in the background, throwing everything
at the constituency. The party's machine should never be under-estimated.
Wisely, Sinn Féin isn't appearing too confident. Adams refuses to be drawn
on election prospects. Privately, party sources reckon they're ahead.
Mark Durkan can't be written off but McLaughlin must be favourite. His
recent comments that the 1972 murder of mother-of-ten, Jean McConville,
wasn't a crime were unwise. But a huge chunk of the electorate is under-30.
McConville, however cruel it sounds, is nothing to them.
Robert McCartney's murder should mean more but so far there is no evidence
it is having any significant effect. Indeed, the Sinn Féin president felt
assured enough to raise the issue of youth suicide at the launch.
A few weeks ago, he would have feared such sentiments would have led to a
chorus of 'hypocrite'. Sinn Féin seems to have successfully sat out the
McCartney saga.
The killing and Northern Bank robbery will continue to cause it huge
problems with the Bush administration. They have also raised the bar
considerably in terms of its future admission to any power-sharing
government.
But, in terms of Northern votes, there could well be no repercussions. For
six weeks after the McCartney murder, Sinn Féin leaders were regularly
wrong-footed. They were curt and cranky in media interviews.
Now, it's back to smiles and small-talk for the press. They can even afford
to jest at their opponents. As the Sinn Féin team assembled in the
sunshine, Adams quipped: "We'll have to bring the IMC in for a report!"
The IMC monitors the paramilitary ceasefires, and the governments insist
Sinn Féin is inextricably linked to the IRA.
Sinn Féin's continuing success is based on its hard constituency graft,
endless wealth, and growing cult of personality. Never has any modern-day
Northern nationalist figure been so elevated and worshipped as the Sinn Féin
president.
"Oh my gawd, it's Gerry Adams!" said young Californian, Megan Otwoth, who
rushed to have her photograph taken with him. Later she remained so overcome
with excitement, she couldn't remember what he had actually said.
Back home, she explained, some people had heard of Bertie Ahern but
everybody knew of Gerry Adams. A group of giggling St Dominics' schoolgirls
stood across the road, subdued but equally mesmerised.
Sinn Féin, just like New Labour, is a triumph of style over substance.
Centre-stage on the Belfast billboard is Dubliner Mary-Lou, pretty in pink.
In republican heartlands, there is some resistance to such changes.
At Divis, a few hundred yards down the road from the Sinn Féin office, Real
IRA slogans adorn the walls and graffiti tells passers-by not to vote. It
strikes few chords. There is minimal support for an armed campaign or
abstentionism. Most people have left those well behind.
Eight independent republican candidates, disillusioned with Sinn Féin, are
running for council seats across the North. One is former hunger-striker,
John Nixon, in Armagh. Others include former Sinn Féin members, like
Councillor Martin Cunningham. They'll be lucky if half are elected.
Socialist and civil rights' veteran Eamonn McCann is contesting Foyle. Even
he would have to admit that far more of Derry's marginalized will vote for
Mitchel McLaughlin. There is no formidable challenge to Sinn Féin dominance
from either the SDLP or the left.
The Provisional IRA's continuing existence isn't a vote loser for its
political wing. A few feet from Adams' launch, the republican gift shop was
still selling IRA t-shirts. If it was electorally unacceptable, a clean-out
would have taken place ages ago.
The shop was selling worry stones too. "A worry shared is a worry halved,"
assured the label. A month ago, trade might have been brisk. With a week
and a bit to the election, there's no reason to believe such goods will
shift quickly. Sinn Féin candidates have no need for them.
