With the dust settled on the 2024 Irish general election, attention has turned to the negotiations which will lead to the formation of the next coalition government. Despite finishing in second place, with a seat tally of 39 (in a parliament of 174 seats), Sinn Féin will not be invited to those talks.
Instead, the party is destined for another stint on Dáil Éireann’s opposition benches. It will be tasked with holding some variant of a Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael-dominated administration to account.
Despite the efforts of some in Sinn Féin to spin the election in a positive light, the result represents a significant setback for the party – and will prompt much soul-searching within its ranks.
Sinn Féin’s vote share fell for the first time in 35 years, down 5.5 percentage points from its poll-topping 24.5% in 2020. That was the largest fall for any party. In a proportional representation voting system, it was also the only opposition party to register a loss in first preference vote share.
Given the relative unpopularity of the outgoing government – and the broader picture of incumbents being punished in most other elections in 2024 – Sinn Féin’s failure to make electoral hay will sting its supporters.
That sense of an opportunity missed for Sinn Féin is compounded by the opinion poll picture during the lifetime of the 2020-24 Irish parliament. In 2023 the party was regularly sustaining over 35% in the polls, riding a wave of popular disenchantment with the government. Sinn Féin appeared set to lead the next one, with the party president, Mary Lou McDonald, claiming that she would be Ireland’s first female Taoiseach, all being well.
As it was, all would prove not well. Sinn Féin’s poll lead contracted sharply, reflecting both the volatility of the Irish electorate and the fragility of the party’s electoral coalition.
While there are several causes for that remarkable slump, the civil disorder in Dublin in November 2023 was especially consequential. Sinn Féin’s handling of the immigration issue in the aftermath of those riots splintered its voter base. From then on, the party struggled to revive its status as a movement on the march, and as a credible government-in-waiting.
Who leads Sinn Féin?
As with any party that has experienced a loss in electoral support, questions will be asked of the leadership. Sinn Féin’s predilection for internal discipline, and its history of anointing rather than electing party leaders, makes it difficult to accurately gauge the security of McDonald’s position.
Her reputation as an electoral asset has, however, been greatly tarnished. In her Dublin Central constituency alone, Sinn Féin’s vote fell from 35.7% to 23.3%.
When she succeeded Gerry Adams as party president in 2018, McDonald was widely viewed (and presented) as the face of a new Sinn Féin, one which would wear its past relationship with the IRA more lightly, and so could gain support from previously untapped electoral quarters.
Middle class, with no IRA background, and widely recognised as a formidable campaigner, McDonald was arguably the lynchpin in Sinn Féin’s drive towards a position of mainstream respectability and, so, power in Ireland.
The foremost reason why McDonald will be feeling the pressure now is how Sinn Féin’s electoral underperformance undermines the party’s raison d’etre: securing Irish reunification. Failure to get into government in Ireland is equated with a failure to make progress on Irish unity.
In the aftermath of Brexit, and with its aforementioned poll-bounce, a referendum on Ireland’s constitutional status was presented by Sinn Féin as inevitable. The direction of travel, the party argued, was clear, and the momentum undeniable.
In the wake of the 2024 election, that demand for a border poll before 2030 is a good deal tougher to make. Conversations may well continue around Irish unity, but concrete actions on the issue are unlikely to manifest during the next term of government.
Sinn Féin therefore finds itself at a critical juncture. The party is not used to going backwards. Indeed, for Sinn Féin, electoral setbacks are arguably more existential than for most.
The republican movement’s shift from militarism to electoral politics in the 1990s – and its entry into government in Northern Ireland following the 1998 Good Friday agreement – was primarily sold on the basis of it underpinning interminable progress towards Irish reunification.
Unchecked electoral advances by Sinn Féin, north and south of the Irish border, would, according to the Adams peace strategy, secure the movement’s ultimate objective. Languishing in opposition exposes that strategy to criticism. It is likely then that Sinn Féin’s underwhelming performance in the 2024 election will trigger a root-and-branch review of the party’s positioning, tactics, organisation and personnel.
Neil Matthews does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
