ON THE CANVASS with Toireasa Ferris:Even those who would normally dismiss Sinn Féin are engaged by this bright young thing, writes HARRY McGEE
EARLIER THIS year, Toireasa Ferris told a party conference that Sinn Féin needed to reinvent republicanism. Otherwise, she warned, Sinn Féin would not make gains in the June 5th elections and be “relegated to the sidelines of Irish politics”.
Ferris (29), along with Senator Pearse Doherty and North-West candidate Pádraig Mac Lochlainn, personifies that reinvention. If her father, the Kerry North TD Martin Ferris who was imprisoned in the 1980s for arms smuggling, represented the Armalite generation, it is the likes of his daughter who represent what is mockingly referred to as the Armani generation.
If you scan through the policy page of her slick website, its major themes are democratic accountability, jobs, families, communities, public services, rural Ireland. You’ll traipse through at least 500 words before you even reach the only policy area that once mattered for Sinn Féin: the national question.
Even then, it is so inoffensive that it would not look out of place in a Fine Gael manifesto: “The peace process has opened the way towards national reconciliation and Irish Unity. I believe we should work towards making a United Ireland a reality by increasing the areas of North-South co-operation.”
And it seems to be having an effect. In the recent Irish Timespoll, Ferris support was at 12 per cent in the South constituency. That is almost double the support of David Cullinane in 2004 and gives her a biddable outside chance of winning the last of the three seats – a chance that would be better were Sinn Féin's transfer record not so dismal.
It is early afternoon outside the GPO in Cork and the newspaper seller is crying the familiar refrain of “Echo, Echo”. Ferris sweeps down Oliver Plunkett Street with a large retinue of supporters, many of them young. She is dressed in black with sunglasses pushed back over her fair hair. In this writer’s experience of Sinn Féin canvasses, there has always been an undercurrent of antipathy towards the party on the hustings. People will bluntly refuse literature, or ignore greetings. But Ferris throws them. She doesn’t fit the traditional mould. She is tactile, confident and self-possessed. Along the way you encounter people who you just know would never vote Sinn Féin. Yet, they listen patiently, even nod.
Once Sinn Féin was “Brits Out”. Now, it’s more subtle, reinvented. The concentration is on youth, on a fresh approach.
“Younger people want a new generation of politician. There has been too much contamination by the present generation,” she says. “I am part of a generation that is worst affected by the recession. We aspire for a better future for our children but are worried about it. The only people who will address that is a new generation.”
Keeping up with the new generation is hard going. It’s now moving along at a fair old rattle. Ferris herself engages with everybody who she meets. The exchanges are usually short, sometimes no more than a quick: “Will you think of me on election day?” Her handlers are keen to get as much visibility on as many of the main drags as possible.
But there are a couple of longer conversations. A woman declares that “Nobody knows anything about the European election.” Ferris outlines the party’s position on making Europe more accountable to citizens. “The best way you can use your vote to protect jobs and the economy is to vote for Sinn Féin. I will be a strong voice in Europe,” she says.
A man approaches her and asks her why no cap is being put on the profits of oil companies. This is grist to the mill to her.
“Sinn Féin was totally opposed to the deal with Shell. We said that Ireland should follow the Scandinavian model where the State took control of the oil industry. The Government has failed us.” Further down the street she’s asked about the future of Irish fishing. For the daughter of a fisherman, it’s hardly phone-a-friend territory.
Mostly it’s banter. “You are some girl. You are very dedicated,” a passing woman shouts.
Asked why the traditional Sinn Féin message doesn’t feature much, she responds: “In my father’s generation you had a different situation where you had people who were the victims of discrimination and sectarian violence in the six counties . . . We are growing up in a period where we have the peace process, where we have both communities working together, and sharing power . . . many of my own age still believe fundamentally that Ireland should be united.”
Three years ago on the Late Late Showshe refused to condemn the killing of Garda Jerry McCabe in Adare in 1996. That notorious killing still cuts to the quick in the South constituency. She maintains that it hasn't come up at all, save for a testy exchange on Vincent Browne's show last week.
“If people want to bring that up, my response is I am a young Irish republican. We are very fortunate that there is a stable peace process. That’s why we need to look forward rather than looking back.”
Inside among the food stalls of the English Market, the canvass gathers momentum. It becomes a flurry of handshakes with stallholders and shoppers. The reaction is always unfailingly polite. If people are hostile to Sinn Féin, they don’t show it. It’s obvious that some reinvention at least has taken place.