Michelle O’Neill has made history as the first nationalist to lead the government of Northern Ireland. With impeccable republican credentials (his father belonged to the IRA and was arrested), the great irony is that he is in charge of a province that is part of the British State that he wishes to eradicate.
When little Michelle Doris (her maiden name) was born 47 years ago into a working-class family in the tiny village of Clonoe, County Tyrone, there was little to suggest that half a century later she would have a place in political circles and diplomats from London, Dublin, Washington and Brussels, Even less so when, as a teenager, she became pregnant with her eldest daughter – who has already made her a grandmother – and her mother had to leave work to take care of the little girl so that she could finish her studies, which she did.
The family was republican to the core. An uncle of his was raising funds for the IRA, his father was in and out of prison and two nephews were killed by the security forces. Michelle studied accountancy and didn’t get into politics (for Sinn Féin of course) until after the Good Friday Agreements, becoming the protégé of Martin McGuinness, the party’s number two behind Gerry Adams and the its leader at Stormont.
She first obtained the position of councilor for Dungannon that her father had held. He then won a seat in the Assembly, and from then on his rise within the party was lightning fast: he held the portfolios of Agriculture, Health and deputy to the main minister. At first they considered her a puppet of the boys (Adams, McGuinness and theirs), but it didn’t take long to develop her personality and stature.
He has demonstrated his pragmatism when he attended the coronation of King Charles III (“everyone must be respected”) and accepted the protection of the police (PSNI) instead of republican bodyguards, and when he referred to the province as Northern Ireland instead of Northern Ireland.
On the other hand, he still defends the violence and armed struggle of the IRA until the Good Friday Agreements “because there was no other option” (he reiterated this recently in a controversial BBC interview) and has been criticized to go to the funerals of republican ex-paramilitaries, even during the restrictions of the pandemic. “No one will stop me from saying goodbye to my friends”, he said.
When Arlene Foster, the former chief minister of Ulster, was asked how she would define O’Neill, she replied “as a blonde”. Her appearance (blonde hair, curled eyelashes, often painted red lips and nails, figure-hugging dresses) has given rise to numerous sexist and offensive comments. “The beauty of a family that swims in blood”, headlined a profile of him by the ultra-conservative and unionist The Daily Mail.
But the new leader of the Northern Irish Executive has won many – including some political enemies – with her affable, open and down-to-earth character, eternal optimism, hardworking spirit and naturalness. Those who know her best say that she is the same in front of the cameras as in private life.
O’Neill is part of a duo of women at the top of Sinn Féin, with the other half being Mary Lou McDonald, the party’s Dublin-based president and chief executive in the republic. It was also the most voted south of the border in the last election, but could not enter the government due to the coalition of the two establishment groups, both of the center, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, which reached the commitment to alternate the position of prime minister every two years.
Sinn Féin still leads the republic’s opinion polls (on 25%, to rivals’ 20% and 17%), but its support has fallen ten points in recent months due to growing rejection of the immigration into the country, with riots in the capital and in small towns in the interior, where the Government adapts hotels to accommodate asylum seekers. It suffers because it presents itself as a progressive and openly pro-Palestinian party that opens its doors to foreigners and all those who fight against oppression.
The problem is that its voters are mostly working-class, many suffer from chronic homelessness and the high cost of living, and some feel tempted – a universal phenomenon – by slogans of an incipient extreme right such as “Ireland for the Irish”.
This advance of neo-fascism has not, for the moment, arisen as such in Ulster, where the dividing line is religion and loyalty or not to the crown. Sinn Féin is one, but with two branches, and Michelle O’Neill, the new face of the province, has other more immediate problems to attend to.
