Sam McBride: Westminster is aping the worst of Northern Ireland politics, as new tribal divide deepens

But rather than the politics of the last two decades it is that which both preceded and survived the 1998 Belfast Agreement which best explains what is now happening – and likely to happen – in British politics.

Six months ago, Alex Kane wrote perceptively about the “Ulsterisation of British politics” as a consequence of Brexit where “everything comes down to us-and-them. It doesn’t matter where the conversation begins — it always ends up in the same place.”

That process had been clear since the referendum campaign. But any hope that either the passage of time or a new prime minister would see Westminster return to its historical equilibrium has not been realised.

Rather, the divisions are becoming more entrenched. Some of the outworkings of that have been almost darkly comical to those familiar with Northern Ireland politics.

When Boris Johnson announced a month ago that Parliament would be prorogued for five weeks, Labour shadow Treasury minister Clive Lewis said that “the police will have to remove us from the chamber” evoking images of the late Ian Paisley being carried out of Stormont in 1986 after the dissolution of the Prior Assembly.

Lewis also said that “we will call on people to take to the streets”, a watered-down version of Paisley’s words the morning after being dragged out of Parliament Buildings when he warned that “there’s only one answer when you leave the ballot box — it’s a show of force” and told journalists that “this could come to hand to hand fighting in every street ... we’re on the verge of civil war”.

Ultimately, Lewis voluntarily left the chamber – itself reminiscent of how some of the wilder rhetoric of Ulster’s political leaders was later quietly dropped.

This week has seen ferocious linguistic warfare between the two Brexit tribes in Westminster, reflecting the fissure in the country.

The Times’ experienced political editor, Francis Elliott, said of Wednesday’s parliamentary exchanges that he “cannot remember hatred being so nakedly expressed by so many and at such length across the divide”.

UTV’s veteran political editor, Ken Reid, recalled the viciousness of Belfast City Hall at the height of the Troubles, saying: “As a young reporter in the 1970s, I watched in amazement as Belfast City Council chamber turned into a bear pit. It was nasty, hateful, threatening and without direction. Last night’s Commons row was strikingly similar. The forthcoming election could be the bitterest ever.”

On Thursday night, former BBC Northern Ireland political editor Tom Kelly, who went on to work as Tony Blair’s spokesman in Downing Street, invoked another seminal moment from Northern Ireland’s history. He told The View: “I couldn’t help but be reminded of Terence O’Neill’s old phrase about ‘Ulster stands at the crossroads’. Britain’s at the crossroads...in terms of how it does politics – compromise or confrontation?”

Central to Northern Irish politics is the absence of swing voters. There is no discernible cohort of the electorate who might be persuaded to move between unionist and nationalist parties based on their public spending priorities or their health policies or their plans for the education system.

Rather, all the movement has come within the two blocs – where voters move between unionist parties or between nationalist parties – or, especially in recent years, between one of the two main tribes and the smaller centrist parties such as Alliance or the Greens.

It is that factor which for decades has, with few exceptions, led to electoral reward for those seen to be robust and has punished those who are seem to be open to compromise.

It is also logical for parties to overwhelmingly prioritise speaking to their own core support, rather than reaching out to an electorate which is never going to even consider voting for them.

In Great Britain, that now means that the keenest battle for voters is not between Labour and the Conservatives but between the Conservatives and the Brexit Party and between Labour and the Liberal Democrats.

Theresa May’s style meant that the logical extent of that truth was not explored during her time in office. But, having won the Brexit referendum in similar circumstances, Boris Johnson –and particularly Dominic Cummings – are sufficiently perceptive to realise that the next election will be won on this ground, and sufficiently ruthless to seem prepared for the revolutionary consequences of such a strategy, something at which more traditional conservatives would baulk.

For now, there still are people who just want a return to normality and some resolution to the Brexit impasse. But the longer that politics is divided in this way, the deeper the divisions are likely to become, pushing more and more people to choose a side, thus electorally incentivising the parties to be less and less willing to compromise.

Yet, for all the similarities with Northern Ireland politics, there are obvious and profound differences.

There is no religious dimension to the Brexit-Remain argument and despite the constitutional and economic significance of EU membership, it is not as existential as the question of the very existence of the country.

There are also more deeply embedded institutions in Great Britain which are both a brake on political excess and can be a cohesive force. The prorogation of Parliament for a few weeks was met with incredulity which has never manifested itself in Belfast over the absence of Stormont for almost 1,000 days.

The Queen is overwhelmingly respected and therefore if she decided to address the nation at a moment of acute peril she would carry authority in a way which would not be possible in Northern Ireland.

But there are other differences which could exacerbate the deepening tribal divide. In Northern Ireland there is both a long and a recent memory of the violence which almost inevitably follows the decisive failure of politics.

That can be a brake on both politicians and the public, as witnessed by the apparently renewed public acceptance of compromise in the wake of the murder of the journalist Lyra McKee in April. In England, the civil war is too distant to be a check on political disagreements.

There is though some hope from Northern Ireland’s recent past. The most stable period constitutionally has been in the near decade of devolution from 2007 to 2017. Despite perennial crises and tribal disputes, in that time support for the status quo soared to record levels as the number of ideologues reduced in the face of a system which at least gave the appearance of working and addressing everyday needs.

In that period the DUP began – at least in word – to reach out to Catholic voters in a way which would have been unthinkable, while Martin McGuinness made radical moves such as respectfully shaking hands with the Queen on multiple occasions.

But as events since 2017 have demonstrated, when deep divisions are established in politics they are difficult to permanently overcome. Decisions taken for tactical party or personal advantage now could have implications for our entire political system for decades to come.