They didn't like him, they certainly never loved him, and in the end they
didn't even want to listen to him. David Trimble's speech, accepting defeat
in Upper Bann, was drowned by the pounding of Lambeg drums from DUP
supporters outside.
There was music, madness, hand-made placards, and Union Jack hats and flags.
They brought everything but champagne and that was probably fortunate. If
the DUP drank, they'd be dangerous. "We'll make do with a Trimble on the
rocks," said one election worker.
The Ulster Unionist leader tried to ignore them as he has always done –
bravely or foolishly, depending on your viewpoint – throughout his career.
But really it was impossible. And nobody will ever be able to ignore them
again.
With a 34% vote, and half of the North's Westminster MPs – "we could
hire a small plane to carry us to London now" – the DUP will be the major,
perhaps even sole force, in unionist politics for the next decade and
beyond.
Dublin, and Northern nationalists, will have to live with it, just like
unionists and London must learn to live with Sinn Féin. There's no point
wishing them away, hoping for a nice, moderate unionist vote. It doesn't
exist, and if the peace process is ever to work positively, it must somehow
accommodate even militant unionist opinion.
"No power-sharing with Sinn Féin!" announced the Rev Ian Paisley as he
arrived to share the Upper Bann victory. "I've seen the colour of their
spots. The animal can't be cured." There are others in the DUP less
absolutist. Yet don't expect any peace deal this year.
The DUP isn't about to do a u-turn. There would be no point defeating
Trimble to then replicate his policies. But, ultimately, the DUP and Sinn
Féin are pragmatic parties that enjoy wielding power. However long it takes,
that reality should ensure some compromise from both. Yet, at present,
nobody even knows where to begin.
Government sources say talks will resume in the autumn, after the marching
season. A move from the IRA, in terms of decommissioning and noises about
disbandment, is expected. But it's unlikely to be enough for the DUP. They
party would need security reports of an end to all IRA activity for at least
a year, before progress is possible.
Most candidates don't travel beyond their constituencies on count day. But
the Rev Ian Paisley, Nigel and Diane Dodds, Arlene Foster, and Jeffrey
Donaldson, all arrived in Upper Bann for Trimble's demise. They toasted
victory with tea, from a spanking new silver pot, in Banbridge Leisure
Centre's café.
Sinn Féin has little reason to celebrate post-election. It put on a brave
face but the truth wasn't difficult to observe. The tails weren't up. The
DUP secured twice as many votes as its unionist rival. Sinn Féin had hoped
to do the same to the SDLP but managed only a 24%-18% lead. Its vote
increased 0.8% on the 2003 Assembly election and was slightly down on last
year's European poll – fine for any other party but not the sweeping success
we've come to expect from Sinn Féin.
This was meant to be the election which finished off the SDLP. Had Foyle
fallen, it would have been. Sinn Féin threw everything at the constituency.
The SDLP worked hard for a year; Sinn Féin has been it at for four.
In the final days, party members arrived from all over the Republic to
canvass for Mitchel McLauglin. Defeat for Mark Durkan would have guaranteed
his resignation and there was no credible alternative leader. Durkan fought
the battle of his life. There was tactical unionist voting but his
6000-strong victory shows he would have won on nationalist votes anyway.
Durkan came late to fatherhood four months ago and maybe it'll be same with
political leadership. He's been given a second chance but needs to start
radically rebuilding his party, and quickly too. There's no room for
complacency. The SDLP confounded observers by winning three seats, yet it
was demolished in North and particularly West Belfast where it was outpolled
five-to-one.
Understandably, Durkan savoured Foyle: "We were written off, I was written
off, but we're still here and fighting." Mitchel McLaughlin was the "Jose
Mourinho" of Northern politics. Sinn Féin, like Chelsea in Europe, had
talked the talk but not delivered. On the podium, Durkan had a movie-style
kiss for wife Jackie, perhaps to show he can be passionate after all.
Government sources are pleased he survived and not because they dislike Sinn
Féin. "Mark's a very decent human being," says one, "and he is a tremendous
man for detail. Gerry Adams sounds good in negotiations but he doesn't
really know what's in the documents. If there was a quiz on what's in a
document, Mark would beat anybody."
"What he says is fine but the delivery needs improving," admitted an SDLP
source during the campaign. "Sometimes Mark speaks like a donkey chewing
thistles."
"He doesn't look like a politician, he doesn't sound like a politician,"
says former SDLP politician Brian Feeney. "To be a politician, you must be
an actor, and he's not. He's just the very solid, reliable guy you'd find
in an accountant's office. This result has saved the SDLP but its problems
are far from over."
Some SDLP figures believe a merger with Fianna Fail is now definitely the
way forward. Discussions between the two parties are likely to take place
over the summer.
In Belfast, there was a 'Robert McCartney' factor but not in working-class
areas. Sinn Féin's vote was down only 200 in the Short Strand area of east
Belfast where the McCartneys live. The party should retain its council seat
there when counting in the local government poll begins tomorrow.
In middle-class neighbouring South Belfast, Sinn Féin lost about 1,000 votes
from the 2003 Assembly election. Some Catholics may have switched to the
SDLP's Alasdair McDonnell, correctly believing he had the best chance of
taking the unionist seat.
In South Down, Sinn Féin's vote increased but the SDLP still won
comfortably. MP Eddie McGrady won't be standing again and the SDLP must now
build the profile of whoever will replace him. Time and time again, the
party has made the mistake of keeping its middle men and women from public
view. Then, when their turn comes, nobody knows them.
Gerry Adams blamed political opponents and media elements for "the dirtiest
campaign" ever. He must he know that's nonsense. Internally, he will argue
that Sinn Féin's continued electoral growth depends on further compromises
from the IRA.
Although, continuing IRA activity isn't a vote-loser in working-class areas.
Anti-paramilitary candidate, Professor Liam Kennedy, ran against Adams in
west Belfast. He received 147 votes.
There is anecdotal evidence from other areas that Sinn Féin suffered by some
republican voters staying at home. In East Derry it was ahead of the SDLP in
the 2003 election but the SDLP overtook it this time. Some local republicans
privately expressed dissatisfaction that the Sinn Féin candidate, Billy
Leonard, was a former RUC man.
But it's the Ulster Unionists facing the serious problems. From the moment,
DUP Upper Bann candidate David Simpson arrived at the count centre in his
big black merc, bedecked in DUP flags, the drift was obvious.
Every ballot box in unionist parts of the constituency had given the meat
plant owner a majority, he said .The DUP was no longer contaminated goods in
middle-class areas. Trimble arrived quietly, in an anonymous grey car, to
slow hand-clapping and cat-calls. "Go look in the jobfinder section of the
paper!" a man shouted. Somebody else wanted to throw him in the River Bann.
On the podium, it was hard not to feel sorry for him. He was as twitchy and
jerky as ever: fiddling with his jacket buttons, standing on his tiptoes,
then back down again, raising his eyebrows many times.
As the results were read, a big roar went up from the DUP faithful,
listening on radio outside. Inside, almost every DUP election worker seemed
to have cameras with them; those without took pictures on their mobile
phones.
The drumming came as Trimble started speaking. A UUP worker remarked he
didn't mind the music, just the quality. They were never going to play
Mozart. Trimble's address was dignified but didn't make much sense. He
talked about a UUP recovery.
Admitting reality has never been a strong point. There would be no UUP
losses, he'd insisted right up until polling day. Sammy Wilson, dismissed as
a Belfast corner boy, would never take East Antrim. Wilson outpolled
outgoing UUP MP Roy Beggs two-to-one.
Strangford and East Derry would be won back from the DUP, Trimble predicted.
Sitting MPs, Iris Robinson and Gregory Campbell, also beat their unionist
rivals by two-to-one. In Lagan Valley, Jeffrey Donaldson would suffer for
defecting to the DUP, his former leader reckoned. Donaldson, on 55%, took
almost every old vote with him.
When Trimble finished his speech, there were only eight pairs of UUP hands
clapping. It sounded pathetic in the huge hall. Yet his qualities were
appreciated by some. "We're very sorry to see him go," says an Irish
government figure.
"Carbuncles and all, he was someone who tried to make progress. He did it in
his own individualistic way but he took phenomenal risks. He was the first
unionist leader Irish politicians and officials came to know. He got on with
the Taoiseach and generally was open and friendly to us."
The judgement from his own people is different. It wasn't purely his
pro-Agreement stance which alienated many, his manner didn't help. "David
Trimble forgot where he came from," said David Simpson.
"He is a former First Minister, a nobel laureate, but what do those
accolades mean on the streets of Upper Bann? For all his education, he was
very stupid. He looked down his nose at me. I was just the 'meat plant man'.
I might be an ordinary man but I know you can't afford to lose touch with
the people."
The word is that Trimble's resignation is imminent and he will be on his way
to the House of Lords by the end of the month. There's even betting on his
likely title. He hails from North Down and Lord Crawfordsburn is a
favourite. The UUP's dilemma is it has no alternative leader. Michael
McGimpsey and David Burnside weren't elected. Reg Empey might emerge as a
front-runner but he hardly sets the world on fire.
No sooner had Trimble's address finished than Paisley arrived, resplendent
in a tie of Union Jack hearts, wife Eileen on his arm. He thanked the
crowd, and God of course, for victory. "Praise the Lord!" somebody shouted.
"I give you, your new MP!" Paisley said, ushering Simpson forward.
The new MP said he knew he'd win, but not by 5,000 votes. "Oh ye of little
faith!" chastised Paisley. The DUP leader was disappointed at losing North
Down and South Belfast. But nine out of 18 MPs wasn't bad for one party and
"they're nine good diggers and hitters". There wouldn't be a united
Ireland. Not now. Not ever. "No surrender!" he shouted. "No surrender!" they
shouted back.
A poster in the count centre advertised archery classes for women – "Have a
go with a bow" – but DUP females preferred to exercise themselves on the
Lambegs. They lifted and played the huge, heavy drums with the same gusto as
the men.
Assembly member, Diane Dodds, concentrated on other matters. Husband Nigel,
the North Belfast MP, needed to smile more on television, she joked: "The
day after he has been interviewed, my son will be asked at school if his
mummy and daddy have had a row because Nigel looked so serious on TV."
The results in some other constituencies didn't come in until after Upper
Bann declared. One wag complained it hadn't taken as long to count the £26
million in stolen Northern Bank notes.
Outside Banbridge leisure centre, the drums pounded particularly loudly as
the Sinn Féin delegation, including Brendan MacCionnaith of the Garvaghy
Roads Residents' Coalition, left. But, really, it was Trimble they were
waiting for, and the opportunity to bid him a final farewell as only Upper
Bann can.
It wasn't to be. Their former MP slipped out a side door. They had to
annihilate his legacy without him so somebody scrawled on a DUP poster:
"This is a Good Friday!"
