While Sinn Féin’s recent troubles have largely been explained in terms of poor communications and faulty decision-making, the party’s difficulties can more accurately be analysed as a crusade to prevent history from repeating itself.
The Provisional IRA campaign was based on a re-run of the War of Independence. Those reared on its history could re-enact a past in which violence was seen as a product, rather than a process which had to end in politics.
However, from the mid-1980s the IRA leadership, largely unknown to the rank and file, recognised the need for transition from military action into political participation. The process was marketed internally as the Armalite and the ballot box.
The last person who had moved from armed struggle to politics was Eamon de Valera. Republicans had fought the Civil War with no social or economic objectives, so when the Civil War ended, opposition to the Free State’s new government ended with it.
Within Sinn Féin, de Valera advocated recognising the Free State government and entering the Dáil. The IRA army council refused to approve what it saw as a betrayal of republican purity.
So in 1926, de Valera left Sinn Féin and the IRA and with Countess Markievicz (a hero of modern-day Sinn Féin), he formed Fianna Fáil, the Republican Party.
Within six years the party was in government in Dublin. It has been there, on and off, for 65 years, based on populist nationalism.
When in power, de Valera recruited ex-IRA men to the Garda and bought the allegiance of others with IRA pensions.
He used the IRA against the Blueshirts and when the Blueshirts were defeated, he cracked down on the IRA. Between 1940 and 1944 he executed six IRA men, including Thomas Harte from Lurgan.
Fast forward to the IRA’s 1994 ceasefire. The IRA followed de Valera’s nationalist populism by Sinn Féin “supporting workers and families” and advocating a united Ireland.
However, this time there would not be a new party divorced from the IRA. The IRA would claim republican purity while pursuing politics at the same time. In that way no-one would be allowed to do a de Valera.
And that, dear reader, explains why Sinn Féin is the way it is. Agree or disagree with it, but now at least you understand it.
So Sinn Féin election candidates are hand-picked (which is why Brian Stanley and Patricia Ryan left the party) and even leadership elections are rare.
In policy, for example, the party changed overnight from opposing Irish membership of the European Union to avidly supporting it. The change came without prior notification, debate, discussion or even a press release.
However, army councils have a poor understanding of politics. The current army council’s only policy appears to be one of supporting anything which might bring a united Ireland closer, no matter how many u-turns that might involve.
Effectively Sinn Féin has become a party of political mercenaries, prepared to do whatever it takes as long as it is rewarded with votes.
Until recently that was a highly effective system, particularly in the north, where Stormont’s incestuous system pretends that the party’s coalition partners can hold it to account.
However, in the south’s transparent system, the party misread the public mood on immigration and took the losing side on the government’s family and care referendums.
That triggered a drop in southern support, but its sectarian base in the north shields it from the real world.
Sinn Féin’s disciplinary culture of secrecy, which has been the party’s strength since entering the Dáil and Stormont, is now its weakness, leaving Mary Lou McDonald and Michelle O’Neill badly exposed.
The problem with the army council is that as its members age, it will soon consist of generals who never were soldiers, thus rendering it a politburo.
So what will the politburo do now? It must choose between trusting Sinn Féin to become a normal political party or retaining its strict military discipline. That choice might be what Mary Lou McDonald meant by an overhaul of governance.
Can a military-style party attract and retain sufficient talent to make it successful? In the south, no. If Mary Lou had stayed in Fianna Fáil, for example, she might have been taoiseach by now. In the north, it does not need talent to be elected.
Northern military-style discipline does not rest easily with southern politics. In the south, Sinn Féin has reached its de Valera moment, but its all-Ireland nature will not allow it to take the next obvious step.
The Army Council does not appear to have seen this day coming.
Can a military-style party attract and retain sufficient talent to make it successful? In the south, no. In the north, it does not need talent to be elected