An earthquake.  A revolution. A shock to the system.  These were all terms employed by pundits to describe the outcome of February 8^th’s general election in Ireland.

All 160 seats in Dáil Éireann (Irish parliament) were up for grabs.  The two historic big beasts of politics here, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, elected 38 and 35 TDs (members of parliament) respectively.  But Sinn Féin, which operated on the fringes until relatively recently and has been scorned for its connection to the provisional IRA and its legacy of violence, was welcomed in from the cold by the electorate and is sending 37 of its representatives to the 33^rd Dáil.

No one saw this coming until the campaign’s final days.  The party performed poorly in the 2018 presidential election and in the 2019 local and European elections.  As such, Sinn Féin only ran 42 candidates this time. That 37 of them were elected, with most of those topping the poll in their constituencies, is amazing. 

In the immediate aftermath, there was considerable speculation in the international media as to why the Irish people voted as they did.  Frankly, these assessments have, for the most part, been absurd. The prevalent take seems to be that Ireland, perhaps the one country in the west where the political centre had held, has at last succumbed to the populist and nativist mood which has facilitated the Trump presidency, Brexit and the rise of the far right on continental Europe.

Charles Moore’s column in the Daily Telegraph – “How we all helped Sinn Féin win in Ireland” – may be the most egregious example of this woefully misguided analysis.

“Then, along comes Brexit and in 2017 the new Irish Taoiseach (prime minister), Leo Varadkar, forgets his modernising, liberal stance and puts on the old green jersey of Irish nationalism.  It turned out that virulent nationalism had not gone away after all. So, if Brit-bashing is again the approved mainstream sport in the republic’s politics, why not turn to Sinn Féin, the best qualified players in that nasty game?”

Anyone remotely familiar with Leo Vardkar’s persona and outlook or with the culture of his Fine Gael party would chortle at Moore’s attempt to paint them and Sinn Féin with the same broad brush.  In short, the Taoiseach and his party couldn’t be more different, ideologically and otherwise, to Sinn Féin. The efforts undertaken by Varadkar, foreign affairs minister Simon Coveney and others in Fine Gael to mitigate the damage of Brexit had little, if anything, to do with Irish reunification. 

Meanwhile, back on planet earth, an Irish Times exit poll revealed that housing and health were, by an overwhelming margin, the biggest issues in the election.  Brexit was cited by just 1 percent as their top issue; Irish unity did not feature. And in another blow to the “Trump…Brexit…Irish general election” narrative, a mere 1 percent indicated that immigration was their primary concern as they cast ballots.

Access to health care has long been a serious issue in Ireland.  Several impressive politicians have sought to tackle what former Taoiseach Brian Cowen once infamously called “Angola” without much success.  Although there are many excellent doctors, nurses and others in the health service providing great care, frightening stories about elderly and sick people waiting for hours to be seen abound.  It is always at the top of the list for a segment of the electorate who harbour justifiable grievances.

Housing, however, has become a serious problem as Ireland emerged from the economic crisis.  The present numbers of homeless men, women and children are unprecedented. The cost of renting a home is higher in 2020 than it was during the Celtic Tiger years.

And buying a home, given that wary banks have made it a lot tougher to obtain a mortgage, is currently beyond the reach of many young families, even those with two good incomes.  The price of housing is particularly out of hand in Dublin. As an aside, this points to the need for the country to become less focused on the capital and to do better at promoting economic activity in the other cities and regions.

Sinn Féin capitalised on the anger that has grown up around health care and housing.  This is down in large part to the capable leadership not only of its president, Mary Lou McDonald, but also to a new cadre of articulate, thoughtful politicians, such as Eoin Ó Broin, Pearse Doherty and Louise O’Reilly.

Many of those who voted for the party in February did so for the first time, would not subscribe to all of its policies and are deeply troubled by some undeniably sordid elements of its past.  The key question is whether this election is a blip or whether it marks a reconfiguration of Irish politics. Are the two dominant centrist parties now to be joined by a third large party on the left?

Confronting what may be the new reality has been to the fore in the post-election process of government formation.  A majority of 80 or more TDs needs to be cobbled together. Fianna Fáíl seemed open initially to coalescing with Sinn Féin in government, but its leader, Micheál Martin, poured cold water on the idea in a fiery speech in which he accused his putative partners of “legitimising a murderous sectarian campaign” and “operating outside the democratic norms of regular political parties.”

At the time of writing, then, there seem to be two possibilities for what will come next: a previously unthinkable coalition of Fianna Fáíl, Fine Gael and the Green Party or a second election if they fail to reach an agreement.  Another costly, exhausting campaign and unpredictable exercise in democracy is not something that either independent or party affiliated TDs – except those from Sinn Féin, who probably would be joined by more aspirants from within their own ranks – want and is the least likely scenario.

The marriage of the two long-time foes, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, so divergent historically and culturally, though not ideologically, may be the only game in town.  Irish politics has definitely changed, even if we can’t yet foresee the exact nature and scale of the change. Stay tuned for further extraordinary developments in the wake of a truly seismic election.      

Larry Donnelly, who grew up in East Milton, is an attorney who has lived and worked in Ireland for nearly 20 years.  He is a lecturer and director of Clinical Legal Education in the School of Law at the National University of Ireland, Galway and a regular media contributor on politics, current affairs and law in Ireland and the US.  Follow him on Twitter at @LarryPDonnelly.