A yes campaign poster in Dublin. Photo: Getty
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Will Ireland make history and vote for same sex marriage?

This referendum has brought a clear dichotomy in Irish society into sharp focus: the divide between traditional Catholicism and a more progressive, global outlook.

There’s now a mural of two women embracing on the side of a fifteenth-century castle in the Irish countryside. The man responsible, artist and secondary school teacher Joe Caslin, passionately supports a yes vote in Ireland’s upcoming referendum on equal marriage.

Ireland is set to make history this Friday as the first country to put the issue of same sex marriage to its citizens in a national popular vote. For young Irish people in particular – like the teenagers that Caslin himself teaches – the stakes are extremely high.

“The language that’s being used around this referendum can be quite horrific at times and there’s little empathy given to young gay men or women that are maybe on the cusp of coming out; that this is their lives,” Caslin told me last month when another of his murals appeared in Dublin city centre.

The Irish government’s proposal is superficially straightforward: to add a sentence to the constitution that will allow for same sex marriages. A previous court ruling means that, without this change, any marriage equality bill proposed by government could be open to constitutional challenge.

Over the past few months, the battle between the yes and no camps has been fierce, intensified by strict media regulations. Irish people have grown weary of the topic, subjected to an endless cycle of televised debates and newspaper columnists pushing for both sides. You can only imagine how difficult it must be to be gay in Ireland right now, watching as the country holds a nationwide discussion over whether you should have access to marriage, or simply be “grateful” for the existing civil partnerships.

The yes side – which includes all the major political parties – has been accused of “arrogance”, while the no campaign has controversially focused on adoption and surrogacy, issues that are not directly related to the referendum question (gay couples can already adopt and surrogacy is yet to be regulated in the country).

Many of Ireland’s potential yes voters – the younger generation – are now “economic exiles” who will not be able to participate in a decision that will have a massive impact on thousands of lives. Only those living outside the country for less than 18 months are eligible to vote and they must do so in person. As someone who has lived in the UK for a number of years, I know how hard it is not to have a vote on an issue of such national importance.

What has been heartening, though, is witnessing how the topic has engaged young people – both at home and abroad. Campaigns such as “Get the Boat 2 Vote” aim to encourage Irish people overseas who can vote to travel home to do so. From the diaspora, from Australia to Abu Dhabi, emigrants are urging those back home to use their vote as part of the #UseYourVote and #BeMyYes social media campaigns.

At home, some 28,000 student voters have been directly registered by the Union of Students in Ireland, which ran a nationwide sign-up campaign last year ahead of the referendum. Almost 66,000 new voters have been added to the supplementary register, many of whom will be young people voting for the first time.

Yet despite this drive, and the strength of umbrella group “Yes Equality”, Friday’s outcome is far from certain. Although the majority of last weekend’s polls gave the yes vote a clear lead, it will still be a nervous wait for both sides.

This referendum has brought a clear dichotomy in Irish society into sharp focus: the divide between traditional Catholicism and a more progressive, global outlook. But recent decades have seen rapid change – the motion to legalise divorce passed by just 0.6 per cent in 1996, and homosexuality remained illegal until 1993.

Last Sunday, the Catholic church upped the ante, with bishops’ letters advocating a no vote read out in parishes across the country. A poll carried out by Millward Brown for the Irish Independent gave yes a 53 per cent lead with no on 24 and “don’t knows” on 23 per cent. Convert those “don’t knows” into negatives and the gap looks very tight indeed.

Whatever happens on Friday, attitudes in Ireland are undoubtedly changing. This very public debate, which has forced people to come forward with their own personal stories, has only helped them to change further. Now the country is in a position where a yes to same sex marriage is a distinct possibility by the weekend. All we need to do now is wait.

Photo: Getty
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The end of loyalty: why are we still surprised when politicians betray each other?

There was Labour’s attempted coup, now the cabinet is in civil war. Have British politicians always been so openly disloyal?

Politicians have always had a reputation for backstabbing, but recently Westminster has been a battleground of back, front and side-stabbing in all parties. The shadow cabinet trying to oust Jeremy Corbyn after the EU referendum; Michael Gove abandoning Boris Johnson to make his own Tory leadership bid; and now Johnson himself derailing Theresa May’s set-piece Brexit speech with his Telegraph essay on the subject – and rumours of a resignation threat.

On the surface, it seems Brexit has given politicians licence to flout cabinet collective responsibility – the convention that binds our ministers to showing a united front on government policy.

The doctrine of cabinet collective responsibility was outlined in the Ministerial Code in the early Nineties, but it became a convention in the late 19th century “the way in which we talk about it still today, in terms of people failing to adhere to it”, says the Institute for Government’s Dr Cath Haddon, an expert in the constitutional issues of Whitehall.

It even goes back earlier than that, when the cabinet would have to bond in the face of a more powerful monarch.

But are we witnessing the end of this convention? It looks like we could be living in a new age of disloyalty. After all, the shadow cabinet was allowed to say what it liked about its leader over nearly two years, and Johnson is still in a job.

An unfaithful history

“I think it’s nothing new,” says Michael Cockerell, who has been making political documentaries and profiles for the BBC since the Seventies. “If you think back in time to Julius Caesar and all the rest of it, this loyalty to the leader is not something that automatically happens or has been normal both in history and modern democracies – there have always been rebels, always been ambitious figures who all work out exactly how far they can go.”

He says the situation with Johnson reminds him of Tony Benn, who was an outspoken cabinet secretary under Harold Wilson and Jim Callaghan in 1974-79. “He knew exactly how far he could push it without being sacked, because of the old thing about having him inside the tent pissing out, rather than outside the tent, pissing in.”

Cockerell believes that Johnson, like past cabinet rebels, knows “how far” he can go in defying May because she’s in a precarious position.

“Often if a prime minister is weak, that’s when the ambitious members of the cabinet can parade their disloyalty while still claiming they’re still being loyal,” he says. “Most people who are disloyal always profess their loyalty.”

The peer and former Lib Dem leader Ming Campbell, who has been in politics since the early Seventies, also believes “it’s always been like this” in terms of disloyalty in British politics.

He gives Wilson’s governments as a past example. “There was a fair amount of disloyalty within the cabinet,” he says. “I remember it being suggested by someone that the cabinet meetings were often very, very quiet because people were so busy writing down things that they could put into print sometime later.”

“Fast-forward to John Major and the ‘bastards’,” he says, recalling the former Conservative prime minister’s battle with trouble-making Eurosceptic cabinet members in 1993.

Dr Haddon adds the examples of Margaret Thatcher being brought down by her cabinet (and tackling the “wets and dries” in her early years as PM), and Tony Blair and Gordon Brown’s teams briefing against each other.

She believes “nothing changes” regarding disloyalty because of the way British government works. “The UK system really provokes this sort of situation,” she says of Johnson. “Because we have empowered secretaries of state, we have a sort of federalist structure, and then we have the prime minister in the position of primus inter pares [first among equals].”

The idea of the prime minister being a fully empowered leader in control of a team is a “modern concept”, according to Dr Haddon. “If you go back into the nineteenth century, ministers were very much heads of their own little fiefdoms. We’ve always had this system that has enabled ministers to effectively have their own take, their own position in their particular roles, and able to speak publicly on their perspective.”

She says the same happens in the shadow cabinet because of the nature of opposition in the UK. Shadow ministers don’t receive tailored funding for their work, and are therefore “often very much reliant upon their own team” to develop policy proposals, “so they become quite autonomous”.

How disloyalty has changed

However, disloyalty plays out differently in modern politics. Campbell points out that with politics developing in real time online and through 24-hour news, there is a far greater journalistic focus on disloyalty. “Previously it would’ve been in the Sunday papers, now you get it 24 hours a day, seven days a week,” he says.

Dr Haddon believes pronouncements of disloyalty are more “overt” than they were because of the way we communicate on social media. Platforms like Twitter discourage the “coded messages” of past disloyal cabinet secretaries, and show infighting more starkly.

“There is this immediacy of reaction,” she says. “And that it’s constrained to 140 characters leads people to ever more brief, succinct declarations of their position. We are also living through a period in which, dare I say, hyperbole and strength of position are only exaggerated by that medium. There’s something in that which is very different.”

And even though British political history is littered with attempted coups, betrayals and outspoken ministers – particularly over Europe – there is a sense that the rulebook has been thrown out recently, perhaps as Brexit has defied the status quo.

Collective responsibility and the idea of the prime minister as primus inter pares are conventions, and conventions can be moulded or dropped completely.

“The constitution is open for discussion now to an extent that I can’t remember,” says Campbell. “You’ve got arguments about independence, constitutional arguments which arise out of Brexit, if we leave. In those circumstances, it’s perhaps not surprising that the constitutional convention about cabinet responsibility comes under strain as well.

“If you’ve got a constitution that depends upon the observance of convention, then of course it’s much easier to depart from these if you choose,” he adds. “And in the present, febrile atmosphere of constitutional change, maybe it’s hardly surprising that what is thought to be a centrepiece is simply being disregarded.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.