Patricia Mac Bride: Micheál Martin is fighting the wrong battles over a border poll and Irish neutrality

TULLAMORE is no stranger to hot air causing a bit of chaos. In 1785, a hot air balloon crashed into the town, sparking a massive fire and destroying more than 100 homes. This week, hot air of a different origin could create even more heat in the Fianna Fáil camp as the party rolls into town for its annual think-in ahead of the new Dáil term. It's coming at an interesting time, when Michéal Martin has been shadowboxing his way through the summer with his own party. Andy Burnham's ill-judged comments about a referendum on Irish reunification being off the table have been well analysed in the pages of this publication and elsewhere. It's almost as if he hadn't read the Good Friday Agreement. It's bad enough having to listen to such nonsense from a British prime minister, but when you're hearing the leader of Fianna Fáil saying similar, it simply beggars belief. Martin's recent reaction to even discussion of a border poll was particularly revealing. In a Fianna Fail podcast, he said he 'goes bananas' when the issue is raised, arguing that the focus should instead be on the practical work of the Shared Island initiative. The problem is that Martin is constructing a caricature of the argument he appears determined to beat down. Not everyone advocating preparation for Irish unity is demanding an immediate referendum. Indeed, preparing for the possibility of constitutional change is itself entirely consistent with the practical approach Michéal Martin claims to favour. Niamh Smyth, a Fianna Fáil TD for Cavan-Monaghan and a Minister of State, might have better reflected the mood of the party when she said: 'As a border TD I would have to categorically and fundamentally disagree with the prime minister on that notion that a border poll is off the table.' However, Martin's response, essentially, was that Burnham's wording was clumsy. Clumsy is stumbling over your words. It is not clumsy when you show a blatant disregard for a legitimate constitutional aspiration, endorsed by referendums north and south. The taoiseach, charged with upholding that constitution, should have reminded his British counterpart of that. By treating discussion of a border poll as essentially Sinn Féin sloganeering, Martin is turning a legitimate, strategic debate into a battle against an imaginary enemy. I would not imagine there will be many TDs in Tullamore pressing Martin to lobby the Secretary of State to set a date for a border poll. But I'd be shocked if there aren't a significant number questioning Martin about why there is no plan, or even talk of a plan allowed, and how that reflects on Fianna Fáil's identity as the republican party. It must really stick in your craw if you are a true, constitutional republican Fianna Fáil TD and you're looking longingly at Fine Gael, which is busy planning and preparing for unity. The party is creating what it calls a 'practical blueprint' for a united Ireland, to be presented in November. It's a similar position when it comes to the triple lock on Irish neutrality. Martin is drawing battle lines inside a room where everyone is essentially standing on the same side, in the hope that he can later claim victory. The triple lock is Irish law, proposed originally by Seán Lemass, as taoiseach, and enacted by the Oireachtas. In contrast to a border poll, Martin is not resisting a future political development at a yet undetermined time. He is actively proposing legislative change. The triple lock requires government, Dáil and UN Security Council approval for the deployment of Defence Forces Personnel overseas. The legislation he has brought forward seeks to remove the UN Security Council element, arguing that Russia and China can effectively obstruct Ireland's participation in peacekeeping missions. On the triple lock, Martin's language begins to resemble the behaviour he criticises elsewhere. Fianna Fáil backbenchers have raised a substantive objection: that dismantling the triple lock represents a fundamental departure from traditional party policy on Ireland's neutrality. Willie O'Dea and other TDs have demanded proper debate, and reports indicate there is genuine unrest within the parliamentary party. Martin has responded by portraying the debate as excessively heated and claimed opponents were engaging in 'demagoguery'. But the existence of internal opposition does not necessarily mean that Martin's colleagues misunderstand the proposal. They may simply disagree with its underlying philosophy and have genuine concerns about the effects of the proposal, if enacted into law. That's why fighting with shadows is an apt description of Martin's current political style. On unity, he fights the shadow of an imminent border poll. The more serious question is how Ireland prepares intellectually, politically and economically for the possibility of life on the island after a vote in favour of constitutional change. On the triple lock, he fights the shadow of supposedly irrational opponents, when the real argument concerns sovereignty, neutrality, parliamentary accountability and Ireland's conception of peacekeeping. Micheál Martin's instinct for caution was once viewed as a political strength. His weakness is that his caution is now seen as dismissiveness. He demands substance over slogans from others on reunification, but risks reducing opposing arguments to slogans of his own making when it comes to scrapping the triple lock. The deeper irony is that Martin's patient, practical politics should make him well-suited to accommodate disagreement. Instead he appears combative when disagreement and reasoned debate become inconvenient for him. The trouble with fighting shadows is that, in time, the light shifts and it becomes clear that the phantom is not Sinn Féin or your own backbenchers, it's the bogeyman you created yourself. But no one is afraid of him.