The man who would be kingmaker

http://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/apr/30/the-man-who-would-be-kingmaker

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He has been described as a man with the stature of Ian Paisley and the hushed tones of John Major. It’s a far more engaging mix than it sounds.

Gavin Robinson, 29, is the new, more progressive voice of the Democratic Unionist party; a politician who broke the mould of tub-thumping, hardcore Protestantism by attending a same-sex wedding as lord mayor of Belfast, and who – whisper it softly – is even known to have gay friends. Quite a break from tradition.

His biggest current struggle is his surname. In 2010, Peter Robinson, the first minister of Northern Ireland and DUP leader, narrowly lost the Westminster constituency of Belfast East to the Alliance candidate, Naomi Long, after getting caught in the perfect storm of a sex and money scandal.

It was hardly on the Berlusconi scale – Robinson was later cleared of financial wrongdoing: but the Italians are known for having more relaxed attitudes to these sort of things than the Northern Irish.

Gavin is the man trying to win back Belfast East for the DUP and one of his first jobs was to prove to his constituents that he was not Peter’s son.

“I now take my dad and my birth certificate out campaigning with me,” he says. He’s only half joking; his dad is sitting next door, having a cup of tea, while we talk politics in the Belfast headquarters of the DUP.

“I’m delighted that so many journalists from mainland UK have suddenly started taking an interest in the politics of Northern Ireland,” he insists, though the hint of tiredness in his voice suggests rather more ambivalence than that.

Not many of the people of Belfast I speak to on the streets share his enthusiasm. When I ask how they feel about the election, the most common reactions are either silence or: “I’m not that bothered.”

You can understand their viewpoint, as it is one that has always been shared by the London-based media. Constituencies seldom changed hands – elections were and are mostly sectarian affairs – and there were not enough of them to make much of an impact on which party formed a government.

Now that the DUP have the potential to be kingmakers in any coalition, the rest of the UK has suddenly taken an interest.

The DUP currently holds eight seats and will almost certainly hold nine on 8 May if, as expected, Robinson regains Belfast East.

Much of Naomi Long’s vote in 2010 came from unionists who were disaffected by Robinson P, and her cause was not helped among them when her Alliance party colleagues in Belfast City Hall limited the number of days the union flag could fly over Belfast’s city hall (in a compromise deal after nationalist councillors had proposed a motion to remove the flag entirely).

These things still matter here, despite 17 years having passed since the Good Friday agreement. The symbols of sectarianism are still ever present in east Belfast.

The DUP’s HQ looks as well guarded as many military compounds, the murals dating from the Troubles still decorate most street corners and the offices of the Ulster Volunteer Force are still well maintained.

But money has begun to speak just as loudly. While the large yellow cranes of the Harland & Wolff dockyard remain as a reminder of the city’s shipbuilding heritage, much of the rest of Belfast looks as if the recession has largely passed it by.

The new Titanic museum has just opened and the high streets are noticeably less depressed than in many English cities.

While it’s true that not all the money has been distributed equitably – Short Strand, the one small Catholic enclave of east Belfast is noticeably more rundown than the rest of the constituency, with potholes in many of the roads – there is a lot more of it everywhere than there was.

The peace deal on which Gerry Adams and David Trimble shook hands on in 1998 was made in promises of cash as well as a desire to end the violence. Northern Ireland has done very out of Westminster ever since.

What is often referred to as the peace premium is something Northern Ireland would rather maintain.

Which is where Robinson believes his party can use its influence. With the Alliance party reduced to virtually a one-woman show and Sinn Féin unwilling to take its seats in Westminster, the DUP is happy to get stuck in.

While most politicians are reluctant to talk about possible coalition deals, Robinson has made the probability of a hung parliament one of the centre points of his campaign. Along with the economy, scrapping the bedroom tax, fairer benefits and staying in the union.

It is no coincidence that the DUP’s manifesto often reads a bit like an amalgam of the Conservatives, Labour and the Liberal Democrats. There are carrots there for everyone and Robinson explicitly states that the DUP will negotiate with anyone.

“So are there any red line issues?” I ask, having failed to spot one. “Oh, yes,” he replies confidently. “Everything has to be a good deal for Northern Ireland.”

His press officer notices that people have started tweeting that the royal baby might be imminent. Robinson smiles. “That won’t do our cause any harm. Delivering on a delivery even before the election.”

He pauses and then adds as an aside. “Did you know that East Belfast was voted the happiest place in the UK when I was lord mayor?”

“How did they work that out?”

“I’ve no idea. But I’m happy to take the credit.”

With that kind of luck, Robinson might even one day be the man who leads the DUP to the promised land.

• This article was amended on 1 May 2015 to clarify that the deal to limit the number of days the union flag can fly over Belfast’s city hall was a compromise deal after an earlier proposal to remove the flag entirely. An earlier version of the article said Naomi Long “did herself few favours by limiting the number of days the Union flag could fly over Belfast’s city hall”. Long was no longer a councillor when that decision was made in 2012.