Opinion

Alex Kane: Sadly, trying to see our politics from another person's perspective is probably a waste of time

Alex Kane

Alex Kane

Alex Kane is an Irish News columnist and political commentator and a former director of communications for the Ulster Unionist Party.

Simon Coveney and Julian Smith unveil the New Decade New Approach agreement. Picture by Niall Carson/PA Wire
Simon Coveney and Julian Smith unveil the New Decade New Approach agreement. Picture by Niall Carson/PA Wire Simon Coveney and Julian Smith unveil the New Decade New Approach agreement. Picture by Niall Carson/PA Wire

I've spent most of what passes for my writing/commentating career trying to see both sides of the debate in Northern Ireland.

That, in itself, has made some elements of unionism and nationalism suspicious of me; on the basis, I suppose, they don't believe there are two sides of the debate. Only their side, their analysis, their opinion, their truth, their history. Anything which involves looking in depth at both communities will, they insist, lead you into the mortal sin of false equivalence.

Anything which makes you question some actions by those on your own side of the fence will lead you - in my case - to be described by some as a Lundy. Yet if I criticise those on the other side of the fence I am just as quickly dismissed as another propaganda-pushing unionist.

Sadly, I'm increasingly of the opinion that trying to see something from the other person's point of view is probably a waste of time. For years one of my heroes has been Atticus Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird and I was particularly struck by his line that sometimes you had to go into your neighbour's property and see yourself from his perspective. That once made sense to me. I'm not sure it does any more.

I see very little evidence of people wanting to learn something about themselves, let alone learning anything about their political/societal opponents. We don't, in fact, live in an us-and-them world; we live in our own world, on our own side of the fence, in our own schools and housing areas, socialising with people from our own sort of background. Even on social media we mostly communicate within and to our own echo-chambers.

What's the point of looking for a middle-ground? What's the point of continuing the pretence that the 'vast majority' here want change when the vast majority of those who vote (accounting for over 80 per cent) still vote for very clearly designated unionist and nationalist parties? What's the point of the existing soi-disant middle ground which sees its role as occupying some vague place between unionism and nationalism, rather than marking out an entirely new territory away from their flags and symbols?

What's the point of a New Decade, New Approach strategy which still prioritises an us-and-them divvying-up of the spoils (look no further than the sections on housing, education, culture and legacy in the latest agreement) between the big two parties; yet gives barely a passing nod to the idea that a new decade and new approach should also embrace new thinking and a new way of doing politics?

At a recent speaking event I mentioned the response when I asked my eldest daughter (who, when she is home from university, socialises at venues across Belfast) what happened when any conversation turned to politics: "It's ok to talk about Trump and Brexit and Putin and so on, but there seems to be an unwritten rule that you never talk about local politics. Just in case." That struck me as an astonishing admission. Twenty-two years after the 1998 Agreement and the latest generation (she was born in October 1998) isn't comfortable talking about local politics. That's how little things have changed here. She doesn't want to talk local politics in case it causes embarrassment or starts arguments about identity and us-and-them history.

I also mentioned before in this column about the tendency to ignore difficult conversations when we find ourselves in mixed company (and by mixed company I mean when we don't know very much about some of the people we may just have met for the first time). Again, as it is with my daughter's generation, we don't want to risk the consequences of arguments about identity and us-and-them politics. Political conversations - unless we feel safe in the company of those having them - are avoided. Put bluntly, we are still afraid to have those inter-community conversations and yet seem surprised and angry that it took the main parties almost three years to seal a deal.

The other thing that worries me is what seems to be a growing tendency not to accept that the 'other side' might have a valid point. We are drifting further apart; nudging ever closer to an end-game scenario. There is an anger I haven't seen for years, accompanied by a grudging acknowledgment that the latest process will collapse fairly quickly.

When parties and ordinary people seem so afraid of difficult conversations it clears the path for negative actions rather than positive reflections.