Sam McBride: Our leaders know that they have lives in their hands – yet still they are split on coronavirus

The mundane certainties of just a few weeks ago – taking the children to school, visiting family, going to a restaurant – have been swept away.

Sitting alone or with our immediate families at home, the melancholic tsunami of pandemic news has been inescapable and overwhelming.

Our lives are now bound to screens and it is those screens which relentlessly relay the awfulness of what is about to unfold.

Even on commercial radio, hourly news bulletins and government advertisements during commercial breaks force us to confront the grim reality of coronavirus.

The truth here is in many ways terrifying, yet as journalists, it is our duty to relay the truth honestly – especially when these are facts on which readers’ lives could depend.

Yet the scale of what is now being reported is such that it is understandable – and probably healthy – if people limit their exposure to the news. Even for those with no mental health problems, the next few weeks will be profoundly difficult.

However, the difficulties of we who are far from the front line of the fight against Covid-19 are nothing in comparison to those faced by medics and those who support from them – from cleaners to porters and the clerical staff necessary for a hospital to function. Society has in recent weeks displayed sincere public gratitude to those NHS staff who are going into battle against the virus in the knowledge that it will be a miracle if all of their number survive.

In a world where the word hero has been debased, these people – some of whom say that they have insufficient protective clothing – are unquestionably heroic.

But there is another category of people involved in the battle against coronavirus who will never be viewed as heroic, yet whose decisions are critical to how many of us survive: politicians.

With a few exceptions, politicians have increasingly become despised over recent decades across most of the western world. Some of that is self-inflicted.

But there is a dangerously widespread belief that most politicians are malevolently intentioned; a belief that by default we should expect them to want to harm us and it is up to them to prove otherwise.

While there are wicked politicians, and there is a propensity for power to corrupt even those who come to office with noble intentions, overwhelmingly politicians do not actively seek to do harm.

Often the view of politicians as monsters is driven by the onlooker’s own ideology. In recent weeks there has been a widespread belief from many of those who oppose Boris Johnson politically that his apparent support for a policy of ‘herd immunity’ was a deliberate attempt to kill huge numbers of people.

Yet for a Prime Minister who is disproportionately dependent on the votes of the elderly to consciously kill his own voters would be absurd. Regardless of whether the UK policy to this virus has been correct, in the absence of evidence to the contrary we should assume that it is well-intentioned.

Likewise, we should assume that politicians at Stormont want to save lives. As a society, we elected these individuals and in a democracy if we are unhappy with how they have behaved we are free to remove them from office.

But for now they are the only leaders we have, and these are not just career-defining, bur history-defining decisions of the sort which even most senior politicians never have to make.

Health Minister Robin Swann – whose own son’s life was saved by the NHS, giving him a keener appreciation of that institution’s value than is true of most politicians – has been receiving hate mail and abusive phone calls have been made, claiming that he has blood on his hands.

No doubt those engaging in such behaviour know little about the weight of the decisions now facing a minister working long hours under immense pressure.

Yesterday a former very senior Stormont figure not from the UUP said that he had been very impressed by Mr Swann’s serious and non-partisan approach to the crisis.

Stormont’s leaders know that they have lives in their hands. They are being asked to take war time decisions and only the most inhuman politicians would not feel the solemn responsibility of what is now before them.

This week deputy First Minister Michelle O’Neill broke down in the Assembly chamber as she admitted their was no good answer to Jim Allister’s question of what to say to a young mother whose cancer treatment had been postponed because resources are being transferred to prepare for the pandemic.

In large part, there has been a refreshing absence of the tribalism which defines Northern Ireland politics.

The outspoken loyalist Jamie Bryson, who often courts controversy, has instead been urging people to work together for the greater good and even praising Sinn Féin minister Deirdre Hargey’s efforts.

But on Talkback at lunch time yesterday, Chris Buckler highlighted how after each daily press conference by Arlene Foster and Michelle O’Neill their parties are each putting a portion of the event on their social media channels.

Despite the gravity of the situation and the Executive’s insistence that it is united with a joint message, the DUP is cutting out the deputy First Minister and Sinn Féin is cutting out the First Minister.

Just hours after that observation, Stormont’s joint leaders gave a press conference which was extraordinary in the circumstances we now face. Having clearly failed to agree a common position beforehand, rather than seek to avoid airing that in public they delivered entirely contradictory advice to businesses – and repeated their contradictions of each other several times throughout the 15-minute event which was designed to bring clarity.

Mrs Foster acknowledged that “we recognise that there has been confusion about who should be at work and we want to bring clarity to that”.

She then made clear that those who can work from home should do so but that anyone who cannot work from home should still attend their place of work – so long as it could meet he strict safety measures such as social distancing.

But Ms O’Neill immediately contradicted that, telling every non-essential business that it should shut immediately. She then admitted there was confusion, but blamed that on the British government, despite the fact that the confusion was stemming from a dispute at the top of Stormont.

There are valid concerns about the competence of both politicians or civil servants who were either directly involved in the cash for ash scandal or who were involved in the institutions which were exposed by that scandal to be critically flawed.

Even in a crisis of this magnitude, the importance of scrutiny is critical.

Awkward questions from a pestiferous journalist or an opposition politician will be irksome in the short term but could help expose a serious problem at an early stage.

That is true at any time, but is of the profoundest importance in a situation where lives are being lost.

This week the Assembly limited scrutiny of ministers to focus scarce resources on saving lives. Ministers are, however, doing more media interviews and taking questions at daily press conferences.

There are now 10 coronavirus deaths in Northern Ireland. That figure will grow enormously.

Last night it was confirmed that Stormont has secured a large consignment of personal protection equipment for medics through Dublin, something which DUP MP Gavin Robinson immediately welcomed.

In coming days we are likely to see the Army helping to construct field hospitals. In England, the Tories have been able to set aside much of their ideology in temporarily nationalising parts of the economy and guaranteeing 80% of workers’ wages. Will Stormont’s leaders similarly be able to set aside their flags for a few weeks? Lives depend on it.