Anne Harris: What really lies beneath Sinn Féin’s appeal to the young?

October 22nd was imprinted on their hearts: the lifting of nearly all remaining restrictions. Seven young men sitting at a picnic area overlooking Seapoint. Heading for their first nightclub in 19 months. They arranged pre-nightclub drinks. To catch up. Some had jobs, some were on the pandemic unemployment payment leash, some were Covid graduates.

Then they put their cards on the table. Four cards to be precise; memberships of Sinn Féin. They were casual about their reasons; something to do in the pandemic, things need to change. And then they headed off.

Today the nightclubs are on curfew. There may be more restrictions.

Covid has been good for Sinn Féin: support swelled by half again since the pandemic began (24.5 per cent at the general election to 37 per cent in the latest poll). And one of the main reasons is that it appeals to a generation, across all classes, which is constantly told that, due to government failures, it is the most hard-done-by generation ever.

A united Ireland

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All over the world Covid, because it exposes inequities, is driving populism – or, more accurately, nationalism. Housing is the greatest inequity in Ireland.

Young people today are five years older than their parents were when they got their first house. They also have to stay longer with their parents – mercifully household overcrowding in Ireland is Europe’s second-lowest (3 per cent against a 17 per cent average). Rents are so high as to prohibit saving and, for tenants, security of tenure is tenuous to say the least. It’s an obscene double bind.

Sinn Féin’s investment in housing victimhood was always going to pay dividends. But does it account for their surge?

That nightclub pre-drinks was a trailer of the Party Political Broadcast on Behalf of Sinn Féin, exactly a week later ahead of their ardfheis. Here were no back-slapping tropes or trips down memory lane. Just one person after another declaiming to camera, “The reason I joined Sinn Féin is . . .”

Scripted, issue-driven – housing, health, pensions – and personable. Above all, young people.

Powerful leader

Poll after poll tells us that the passion that gets young people up in the morning is climate change. But mystifyingly, Sinn Féin, a socialist party, is against carbon tax. And “climate change” was accorded half the word count of “Irish unity” in Sinn Féin president Mary Lou McDonald’s ardfheis speech.

But then content did not play a major part in that speech. In fact, form trumped content for much of the ardfheis, seemingly staged to showcase its powerful leader. For the first time, its former leader, Gerry Adams, was absent.

Poised, wearing stunningly tailored jackets in a dramatic ardfheis makeover, McDonald was hypnotic

Poised, wearing stunningly tailored jackets in a dramatic ardfheis makeover, McDonald was hypnotic.

Gone was the homely Mary Lou who could charm the traders of Moore Street to vote for Repeal. The new mode was messianic: “We will save Moore Street.” One punchline after another with a single theme. Change.

Two and a half years ago, Sinn Féin imploded at the local, European and presidential elections. Nine months later, at the general election, it swept the boards, arguably only losing a place in government because of a shortage of candidates.

The rise has been nothing short of meteoric.

McDonald is a brilliant rhetorician. Accordingly, when she loses her sang froid, it’s memorable. Like during the 2020 general election leaders’ debate when she disremembered the shocking “criminal” smear by Conor Murphy (Sinn Féin MLA and now Stormont Minister for Finance) on Paul Quinn, brutally murdered by the IRA in 2007.

Glamorous black

There are those who wish to believe all that moral ambivalence is dead. With IRA man Bobby Storey in the grave perhaps? Last year’s defiant parade at Storey’s funeral tells a different story. Sinn Féin leadership took to the streets in serried ranks of stark, glamorous black. They broke the Covid rules, though the Police Service of Northern Ireland prioritised public security over enforcement of the rules.

From time immemorial, young people have longed for an ideal

What would they have done if in government? Changed the rules?

What was perhaps most stunning about that very public flouting was how little Sinn Féin cared for public opinion. They seemed to know they would transcend it.

Why?

From time immemorial, young people have longed for an ideal.

But what ideal do they think Sinn Féin offers? Action on climate change? Thus far, there is little appetite for that from Sinn Féin.

An equitable housing system? A public house-building programme and a Central Bank change to mortgage rules could change much. Besides, it’s likely housing is a prime mover for only so many.

So is there something darker?

For those growing up in post-peace process Ireland, like those seven young would-be nightclubbers, Sinn Féin undoubtedly represents something exotic, the unknown.

It seems unthinkable that the party’s past could be its allure. But we should not be surprised if it is. It is happening elsewhere so why not here?

If history teaches anything it is that reaching to a dark past to secure tomorrow is a dangerous business.