BELFAST, Northern Ireland (CN) — The Parliament Buildings, Northern Ireland's seat of government commonly known as Stormont, sits on a hill and looks grand and formidable, exuding an air of British imperial rule and authority. But these days it’s largely empty of politicians, at all times of the year.
Northern Ireland's experiment with sharing power between Protestants and Catholics is in crisis and its government is in deep freeze — shut down, closed.
It's been this way since January 2017. For 28 months, and counting, Northern Ireland has been without a government, the longest period any democratic country at peacetime has been rudderless.
The country's legislative assembly doesn't meet. There's no cabinet. Ministers' offices are empty. Laws aren't being debated and passed. Critical reforms are stalled. Oversight committees don't meet. Decisions aren't being made.
All the while, Northern Ireland's social and political problems worsen: Schools are underfunded, waiting lists at doctors' offices grow longer, unemployment is rife, suicide is alarmingly common and political rhetoric is turning acrid.
“The two parties should get together, put all their problems on the back burner, and get the country going again,” said a frustrated Anthony Cooper, a 57-year-old electrician and Protestant resident of Donegall Road in South Belfast, an area that saw extensive violence during the Troubles.
Around the corner, the side of a brick house pays tribute to a 19-year-old combatant of the Troubles killed in 1991 when the IRA attacked him at his home. The tribute was put there by the Ulster Volunteer Force, a Protestant paramilitary group blamed for about 572 deaths after the Troubles started in 1966.
Belfast is a city filled with reminders like this one of Northern Ireland's long and bloody conflict, and each reminder helps explain in part why politics has broken down here: Past differences and grievances are still causing strife today.
For now, there's no telling when the government will get back to business because the rancor between politicians representing Protestants and Catholics is so bad and their visions for the country's future so extremely different.
“Here, if you're Protestant, you vote for DUP [the Democratic Unionist Party] because they're Protestant. If you're Catholic, you vote for Sinn Féin because they're Catholic,” said Taubie McGuire, a 19-year-old unemployed Protestant. “At the moment, it's green and orange.”
The DUP and Sinn Féin are about as diametrically opposed to one another as any political parties could be, and their mutual animosity is rooted in the Troubles.
The DUP was founded by the Rev. Ian Paisley, a fundamentalist Protestant clergyman, ultra-loyalist and pro-British politician who repeatedly lashed out at Catholics during the Troubles. His party was stridently opposed to giving concessions to Catholics and it rejected the Good Friday Agreement, the peace treaty brokered in 1998 by the United States, the United Kingdom and Ireland to end the Troubles. Even so, the DUP grew in power after the treaty was signed and it has become the leading political force in Northern Ireland.
But its dominance is under threat from Sinn Féin, the radical left-wing pro-Irish party considered the political wing of the Provisional Irish Republican Army. The IRA has been held responsible for about 1,771 deaths. About 3,739 people were killed in the conflict.
In the last general election in 2017, the DUP won 28 seats and Sinn Féin 27. The rest of the assembly's 90 seats were split among smaller parties.
“We talk about the need for compromise, but the fact of the matter is that it is difficult for them to come together when their views are fundamentally different,” said Deirdre Heenan, a professor of social policy at Ulster University.
She said the political fight is seriously hurting Northern Ireland in critical areas such as education, healthcare and the economy.