Listening to former DUP MLA Nelson McCausland on BBC Radio Ulster’s Talkback show on Wednesday, it was hard to overlook the fact that somehow, Sinn Féin’s Gerry Adams has come to be regarded as a voice of authority on the Irish language.

His views are seen by some as being definitive of the language itself; what it says about the identities of its speakers, what the cultural connotations of speaking it are and what this means on a wider social level.

Given much of the rhetoric of the recent Assembly election, this is hardly a surprising insight. An Irish language act was central to the campaigns of both the DUP and Sinn Féin, and Gerry Adams himself was bandied about by both sides as a reason for the electorate to get out and vote – albeit that these were used in very different ways by each party.

However, Gerry Adams is not the sole authority on the Irish language. Indeed, neither is Sinn Féin nor the DUP or any of the political parties for that matter. Irish is not a language of politics, yet it has been made into a political weapon in Northern Ireland.

Both sides are guilty of (ab)using the Irish language for political reasons.

On the unionist side, it is held aloft as a symbol of republicanism and lauded as being synonymous with terrorism and a slippery slope to a united Ireland. On the nationalist side, it is yielded as a marker of Irish culture and heritage, a vital tie maintaining cultural commonality with the rest of the island of Ireland, to which anti-Irish sentiment is a threat.

In both instances it is used to further establish a distinct identity for each community; opposing opinions are typecast as the antithesis of what each side seeks to achieve.

While this summary by no means aims to present a fulsome analysis of its use by parties, it is nonetheless evident from what has been said that Irish has become politicised over time.

For Irish speakers, this politicisation detracts from the value of speaking Irish for the usual social, practical, personal development and interest-based reasons that tend to underpin why many people learn and use another language. Instead, it imbues speakers with an assumed political identity, casting them from a political perspective as being one of ‘us’ or ‘them’.

This is not reflective of the Irish-speaking community here, and is in stark contrast to the historical place of the language in Northern Ireland and its politics. It is also not what those calling for an Irish language act seek to achieve or reinforce.

There is a clear disconnect between how the Irish language is viewed at a political level and at a grassroots level. These differences need to be communicated more effectively between the two if a practical way forward for its use in Northern Ireland is to be found.

Movement beyond a binary view of the language is already visible at the grassroots. Language rights activist, Linda Ervine, has been a key figure in leading this change in east Belfast, for example.

Yet this view of the language needs to move upwards if the perception of it is ever to change in the political sphere. If this happened, the fear which dominates discussion of the language on both sides would have no reason to exist; with this removal, the ability for any political party to use it as a weapon or electoral tool would be eradicated.

Is this a long-shot? Most definitely, but it is not an unrealistic goal to strive towards. It is one which momentum must be kept behind if an Irish language act acceptable on all sides and most importantly, to its speakers, is to be agreed.