Article I, section ii of the Good Friday Agreement holds that Irish unity is a decision to be made on and of the island of Ireland, and may only come about by the consent of the majority of the population of Northern Ireland. The ‘principle of consent,’ as it is known, is considered by many to have been the crux which made peace possible. Ulster Unionist Leader Robin Swann recently referred to the principle as the “foundation stone of the Agreement.”

The same article of the Agreement established that the consent of the people of Northern Ireland could be measured by a border poll, and if a majority voted in favour then Northern Ireland would cease to exist as a constituent part of the United Kingdom. It then follows that a border poll has become a constituent part of the Sinn Féin ten year plan.

At this year’s Easter parade in Milltown Cemetery in Belfast, Michelle O’Neill took the opportunity to reiterate her party’s call for such a referendum within the next five years.

It is understandable why the consent principle is important, as much of the conflict of the last two centuries in Ireland have been flavoured with unionist paranoia at being a minority in a corner of a densely Catholic and nationalistic country; not helped in the least by de Valera.

It is also not unreasonable by any democratic standard to oppose shoe-horning any significant number of people into a state which does not represent them, and to which they are culturally opposed.

However, it is not nearly appreciated enough and it is certainly not said enough that this principle works both ways. The last few weeks in Ireland, north and south, have for obvious reasons seen conversations of consent appear in comments sections, pubs, and round dinner tables, to varying levels of success, volume, and value. There should be some realisation that consent is a multifaceted entity that belongs entirely to the individual; though it may be rented out at will it can also be withdrawn just as easily.

The principle of consent largely seems to factor into unionist political thought in merely those ways that affect themselves; meaning, that nationalists would require their consent to unite Ireland, but unionists do not require nationalist consent to maintain Northern Ireland within the UK.

There appears to be a contingent within unionist which still maintains at the back of its mind that Northern Ireland is a ‘Protestant state for a Protestant people,’ and any attempt to resist or adapt that is to be met with the old Paisleyite war cry of ‘Not an inch and no surrender.’ This was demonstrated in Arlene Foster’s ‘crocodile’ comment which became one of the defining moments of the Assembly election campaign last year.

This feeling may also form the backdrop to TUV Leader Jim Allister’s worry that any potential Irish Language Act was merely “another part of the de-Britishisation of Northern Ireland.” The unionist hostility to an Irish Language Act, and the Sinn Féin demand for one, has been the main reason of late for the stand-off at Stormont.

Most recently, in an interview with Patrick Kielty, Foster suggested that she was not sure that she could remain in Northern Ireland were it to leave the UK. The assumption which may be made from this comment is that her commitment to and love of her native Fermanagh is for the most part based upon the flag which flies above it rather than the people who live within it.

The debate of the constitutional question, which has more or less defined the politics of Ireland for the last two centuries, is currently a merchantry of slogans designed to appeal to one’s own base and nothing more. Of course a united Ireland could not happen without the consent of a majority – and a solid majority at that – of the people living here. However, there should be a greater recognition of the fact by unionists that Northern Ireland, by its creation and its sustained existence, is a disregard for the consent of a significant minority.