Ordinary women, extraordinary circumstances

There is a fine line being walked with admirable integrity by the McCartney sisters. Much of what has been written or said about them has dwelt on their courage, which is unquestionable, their commitment to truth, which is unswerving and their unity as a family, a matter of survival and solace. Coverage of their campaign to bring their brother's killers to justice has given the impression that they are a new phenomenon within northern nationalism.

But the McCartney women are not unique. If anything, they epitomise the complexity and sophistication of many working-class nationalist women's lives and politics. The McCartney sisters are ordinary women dealing with extraordinary circumstances.

Unfortunately, such circumstances are only too common in the North, and these efforts are the tools commonly used by many working-class nationalist women. Developing and implementing survival strategies for their families and their communities is part of their everyday lives. Reading the political landscape the way others read recipe books is second nature to them. They have a vision that encompasses the bigger picture of political conflict and change, while also attending to the finer brushwork of ensuring that the everyday needs of the community are addressed.

Campaigning is a way of life for such women, whether highlighting housing conditions, keeping hospital services open, protesting at the use of plastic bullets, calling the State to account for its meagre funding allocations, or defining the very substance of equality. For nationalists, campaigning is also a means of channelling grief, pain and anger. Keep moving forward, keep active and the dogs of fear and tragedy nipping at your heels might never catch up and pin you to the ground.

The McCartney sisters are the product of their community, one that overwhelmingly votes Sinn Féin, a tiny neighbourhood geographically surrounded by loyalist heartlands. The people of Short Strand have never been able to take either physical security or political representation for granted. They are also part of a larger nationalist community that has had to live for decades with duality.

Northern Ireland has presented itself to the outside world as a democracy and, to the uninformed observer, it had the appearance of one. The buses ran, the bins got emptied, children went to school and people to work, when there was work. There were even elections. But there were aspects of living in the North that could never be construed as democratic. Gerrymandering; Catholics corralled in selected areas and left to fend for themselves; army vehicles patrolling the streets; murder gangs looking to pick off anyone who did not fit. Politicians stoking up hatred and denying all responsibility when their provocations led to deaths; police and army working with terror gangs to target vocal opponents of their methods and, of course, the IRA. This may be hard to hear, but many working class northern catholics believe that the IRA was all that stood between them and eradication. Nothing that has happened in Northern Ireland is justifiable, but it must be understood within that context of duality.

When I hear Catherine McCartney speak, I listen to the words between the lines, the finesse of her sentences, the delicate acknowledgements she makes in her assertions and in her questions. Catherine's statements about what the family expect from the republican movement indicate a profound understanding of republicanism. It is an understanding that, while recognising the raison d'etre and ethos of militant republicanism, knows too that the role of the IRA is unravelling, and while that is an inevitable consequence of peacetime, it is happening by default and not by design.

The McCartney family has called for the IRA to "order" those responsible for Robert's murder to give themselves up and be accountable to a court of law. In doing so, the family addresses the IRA on its own terms as a standing army, calling it to task over its responsibility to exert the necessary authority over those under its command.

The IRA and Sinn Féin have allowed some elements within their own organisations to go unchecked for too long. The Sinn Féin leadership has been preoccupied with the larger political stage, and the IRA has been tested to find ways of keeping a "resting" army occupied. The resulting stagnancy has allowed pond scum to accumulate.

Robert McCartney got caught in the middle of a fight between two knuckle-dragging thugs. (As one republican source said, "sandwiched between two lunatics".) The man who started the fight has a history of serious criminality. The IRA man is a volatile liability who throws his weight around, intimidating and threatening the very community he purports to protect.

There are others like him, in Derry and in North Belfast, whose egos have run amok in the vacuum created by the IRA ceasefire.

The McCartneys have carefully exercised their knowledge of republican sensibilities in their dealings with republicans. Aware of how their campaign could be so easily manipulated by the political agendas of Sinn Féin's opponents, the family have steered it with a deftness of touch, a clarity of purpose and a wariness of political tides that has been nothing less than masterly. At times, the McCartney's campaign strategy has mirrored Sinn Féin at their best.

The family have consistently framed their demands within the realistic parameters of what republicanism should be able to deliver as protectors of the nationalist community and the thermometer of its aspirations and concerns. Adams is all too aware that these women are not bluffing, or seeking to undermine his party. Instead, they are engaging with Sinn Féin on terms that the nationalist community has always set for republicanism – that it assert the kind of political leadership the community deserves.

Despite their singular focus on obtaining justice for their brother, the McCartney women have, in the process, made Sinn Féin only too aware that its usual clichéd position on policing is a flimsy response to the very real dilemmas of nationalists who need and want a policing service as a matter of urgency.

In rejecting the IRA's offer to shoot the perpetrators of Robert's murder, the McCartney sisters are very clearly saying to the IRA that that kind of action is not appropriate in a democracy. The duality of the past is evaporating, and they are out of step with the new reality. The rule of law must be continually nurtured and the sisters are leading by example.

But the McCartneys too need to be mindful of their next steps. They have an enormous amount of support across many republican constituencies. That domestic support will be the key to the success of their campaign and they have acknowledged as much. Trips to the White House will not sit well with many republican supporters. Meeting with Bush and soliciting questionable international support only repeats some of the more dubious compromises that have gone before. There are expectations riding on the McCartneys. Whether they know it or not, they have become a touchstone for the kind of republicanism that is trying to take a firmer hold within the movement, one that has a more developed conscience and visible heart. Right now, it is a very fine line to tread – just ask Gerry Adams.