Puzzledom, logjam, impasse, political shambles, deadend – its the early summer of 2003 and the bewildered inhabitants of the God forsaken part-of- province-of-Ulster wonder why the people in the land of no, alias neverneverland, are left in despair heading for an autumn black hole.
What did they do to deserve this fate? They voted overwhelmingly with the rest of Ireland for a new and happy beginning to end 30 years of turmoil of uncivil war. But what did they get? They got kicked in the rear end down the marble stairs of the Stormont Palace of "No Pope here" (changed to "No Hope here") out through the swing doors and down the steps to the Carson statue.
This was to remind us how it all began, the old boy with the Dublin brogue, arch gun-runner extraordinary, taught the orangemen how to defeat democratic home rule for Ireland by rebellion against King George and his parliament. There he stands defiant with fist outstretched, according to loyalist legend pointed in a straight line towards Sackville (O'Connell) Street Dublin (via the Falls Road, Andersonstown, the M1 and Newry). But the truth is he left the scene in disgust when his gunrunning lieutenant, James Craig, accepted an Orange home rule colony of six counties. It lasted 50 years.
Those were the years before the world heard of Ghandi and a black man in America telling the sons and daughters of the slaves that he had a dream of civil rights for all...
The battle was won in Alabama but it was a different story in Northern Ireland, a tragic story of murder and mayhem, nothing to be proud of in the slaughter of hundreds of innocent victims. At last when Giant Despair stalked the land, saintly men, working behind the scenes, brought Gerry Adams and John Hume together and the miracle of peace was born... the rest of the story is familiar. The Good Friday Agreement brought cheers from around the world, horrified at the scenes of a seeming breakdown of civilisation in the fabled emerald isle... that was five years ago. and while an uneasy peace has ensued, occasionally broken by the evil deeds of a few hundred dissidents on both sides, we still pine after a more perfect peace denied us by the chaos in the muddled tribes of unionism and Paisleyism for and against the peace process, clutching at every straw provided by republican stupidities at home and abroad. For half a century unionists exploited the republican menace, even when the IRA had ceased to exist beyond a handful of marxist humbugs in Dublin. Now, when everybody is convinced that the so called war is over, that obsession remains and seems fated to become the central theme in the election ping-pong between Trimble and the ageing DUP boss Ian Paisley.
Some commentators blame Sinn Féin for its tardy response to Downing Street and Dublin's demands for clarification of republican statements of intent but it is a moot point now whether even "Yes, Yes, Yes" to all three questions instead of ambiguous double negatives would have made the slightest difference to Blair's decision to postpone the assembly election to some vague date in the autumn.
Meantime we face another tournament of talks, talks, talks. What on earth is left to talk about after the seemingly endless palavers in London, Dublin and Hillsborough must be left to the imagination. Downing Street watchers will, no doubt, be interested to see whether Trimble sends any of the negotiations including little Jeffrey Donaldson, written off by Blair's top adviser Powell as a collection of asses.
Taoiseach Bertie Ahern says without the support of moderate and reasonable unionists it is very difficult to re-establish the devolved institutions and allow the Good Friday Agreement to reach its full potential. Can anyone reasonably describe Trimble as a moderate and reasonable unionist leader after his Stormont walkout antics and recent statements?
