The wall comes down in Ireland

Two unconnected events yesterday should give us hope for a political settlement in Ireland. First, David Trimble, the new Ulster Unionist leader, visited Dublin for talks. Second, Dr Desmond Connell, the Catholic Archbishop of Dublin, said he was sorry if he had misled the Irish public.

Seen together these developments highlight an extraordinary phenomenon: the crumbling of a rigid social and political order that has held back the chances of reconciliation between the island's communities.

Until relatively recently the grip of the Catholic church was unchallenged south of the border: bishops did not apologise. Likewise, Protestant Unionism was unyielding in its northern citadel: its leaders did not sup in Dublin. So the southern and northern states polarised, one the bastion of Irish Catholic nationalism, the other a beleaguered guardian of British values, culture and the Protestant religion.

All this is changing. The fall from grace of the Irish bishops has been dramatic. As we report today in our second section, their authority has recently been severely undermined by scandals, including child abuse by several priests and revelations that some senior clergy have for years been breaking their vows of celibacy. Finally, yesterday, Dr Connell apologised for any confusion sown by his earlier denial that church funds were used to make settlements in sex abuse cases. Church money, albeit a loan, has in fact been used to pay an alleged victim.

Public exposure of these scandals marks the secularisation of southern Irish society. The Republic's young, well-educated population has lost faith in clerical authority. After 75 years of self-government, Irish citizens have gained enough self-confidence to rethink what defines their sense of Irishness. One result is that nationalism is increasingly being shorn of its territorial ambitions in Ulster. In a similar vein, Irish identity is no longer inextricably linked to being Catholic. Mary Robinson, the country's secularist President, spends much of her time preaching a new type of Irishness that is neither religious in orientation nor territorially acquisitive. She speaks instead of a nation that includes an emigrant diaspora, unbounded by borders.

Of course, vestiges of the old Irish state remain: divorce and abortion remain illegal. But the direction of development, towards pluralism and diminished Catholic clerical power, is clear.

All of this makes it easier for Mr Trimble to come to Dublin to meet the Irish premier; the first Unionist leader to do so for nearly 30 years. And, appropriately, Mr Trimble arrived with an assertive rather than a traditional confrontational message. He urged John Bruton, the Taoiseach, to take Ireland back into the Commonwealth and to end the Irish Republic's constitutional claim to the North. Just a decade ago, such changes would have been as unthinkable as the Archbishop of Dublin admitting error. Today both options are under serious consideration. And if Britain and the Republic joined a single European currency, Mr Trimble's third demand - a merger of the Irish punt and the pound - could also be achieved.

Somehow, less than a month after Mr Trimble's controversial election, the omens for his leadership look considerably better than feared.