Republic’s incoming government should not fear taking a clear stance on unity

Who fears to speak of ‘98? If “who” is the Irish political class and the ‘98 in question is 1998, then the answer is no one. Everyone is eager to talk about that year’s Belfast Agreement, especially when they are asked about Northern Ireland’s future.
In one sense, that is a good thing. The agreement remains the indispensable distillation of principles of pluralism and mutual respect that were hard-won through the brutal journey of Irish history.
The agreement reached then in Stormont also serves as a kind of an ethical guide to approaching the future, and institutional frameworks and relationships on which to build the future.
Less positively, however, a more general “Spirit of 1998″ is invoked to ward off what some see as the more ominous spirits that emerge when talk turns to a new Ireland, and practical progress towards it, meaning unity.
During the long periods when Stormont has not functioned, it was understandable that the focus of those in power in Dublin was on restoring some degree of political stability rather than talking about fundamental change on the island.
That was the then view of former taoiseach Leo Varadkar in 2018, not long after the 20th anniversary of the agreement. “I think the focus should be on getting the institutions up and running again, rather than … on a Border poll,” he said.
Given the instability then, it was an understandable line to take. Reasonable as it was, it is equally true that Varadkar’s position now — that Irish unity should be an objective of the next Dublin government, not just an aspiration — is also reasonable.
Especially, because he is right.
That does not mean that constitutional change will be, or even should be, a big issue in the Republic’s general election campaign. Voters want to hear about immediate issues, such as housing and public service pressures.
However, there should be no prohibition on the next government in Dublin, once inevitable coalition talks are out of the way, from taking a clear but measured line to support constitutional change.
The work of the Shared Island Unit, established by the outgoing Government, has been steadily effective in building sinews of cross-Border connection and understanding, especially where none existed before.
It has also established itself as a funder of cross-Border and cross-community projects where such a route did not exist previously — one that is increasingly valuable given the pressures on Stormont’s purses.
It is quite literally building bridges, and not just the physical link that is the under-construction Narrow Water Bridge that will connect the Cooley peninsula to the Mournes, following years of stalemate.
They do not shout about it, but the Shared Island Unit itself is an example of building on the foundations of the 1998 agreement, rather than seeing the agreement as a constraint to action.
The Shared Island dialogue series, in which citizens and civic groups have engaged in a freer and more ambitious way than the institutional confines of strand II of the 1998 agreement, has been welcome.
But while the format is reassuring in its tact, it can sometimes feel that the instinct towards euphemism — reflected in the name Shared Island — can be as much a barrier to progress as an enabler of it.
Debating national identities, one of the most vexed and thorny questions surrounding constitutional change, one of the participants said the evolution of such identities was “something that we should be much more upfront about”.
That is true. Having convened the dialogue in the first place, an Irish government could act to ensure that pupils in the Republic better learn about the varieties of northern and British identities on the island.
Such work is not only necessary but vital, since it is now beyond reasonably likely that those same pupils will be asked to make decisions about unity in a Border referendum in the years ahead.
However, there are times when the tendency among some in the political classes to conflate the task of reconciliation today with a historic agreement, one that was hard-won is now a foreign land for a generation unborn in 1998.
It is certainly so when it helps underpin the pernicious idea that because loyalist paramilitaries and their representatives had a voice in 1998, they deserve permanent recognition and government funding today.
Those living in working-class communities controlled by such organisations, or ethnic minorities threatened by them, as many in my south Belfast constituency have been, are unlikely to believe that reconciliation is their ambition.
The institutional structures of the agreement need protection, and its ethical framework must guide whatever happens next, but what happens next will not and cannot look like 1998 however much we might wish otherwise.
Ireland (both the State and island) have changed immeasurably, and so has the world
A reduced and weakened United Kingdom and an inward-looking, angry United States are fundamentally different actors to the ones that negotiated and underwrote the Belfast deal.
More importantly, the people of this island have changed in numerous and often wonderful ways.
Last year, the SDLP’s New Ireland Commission argued that constitutional change is not a barrier to reconciliation between the people of this island. In fact, it could help to bring it about.
More importantly, the Irish Constitution’s revised Article 3 expresses the firm will to “unite all the people who share the territory of the island of Ireland, in all the diversity of their identities and traditions”.
Drafted a quarter of a century ago, those words should be reflected on again honestly once the election is over, both to decide what those words mean today and to look forward with hope, rather than looking back to tragedy.