Back in 1922 when the great and the leaders of Ireland were debating whether to accept the terms of the Treaty their representatives had negotiated with the British Government, Michael Collins, hero of the independence movement, persuaded a majority of his colleagues that the treaty on offer gave the country “Freedom to achieve freedom”. Of course diehards in the Republican movement of the time, cried “sell-out” and refused to “collaborate” with the new Irish Free State. Gradually though the lure of power, and the bitterness of the Irish civil war faded, and one by one the dissenters entered mainstream Irish politics.
There was still a hardcore of dissidents though, keepers of the flame, and from time to time their efforts would flare into conflicts such as the during the Second World War, and the ineffective “border campaign” of the the late fifties and early sixties. To all intents and purposes, to the outside world at least, it seemed that the Irish question had been answered and violent conflict was at an end.
But of course the conditions for conflict, the culture of Ireland, in particular amongst the poor and downtrodden of the North, had never been more ripe for a flare up, and so it proved. From the late sixties to the mid-nineties over 3000 people were killed, as paramilitaries, the British Army and others descended into an internecine conflict of great brutality and savagery. I first met my wife in 1994, about six weeks before the first ceasefire in the so-called “Troubles”. I remember one of the first conversations I had with her was about her accent, I couldn’t place it, and it turned out she hailed from the north-western city whose very name symbolises the conflict that had raged for nearly 30 years.
My first trip over to meet her family was just after Christmas 1995, shortly after which that ceasefire collapsed into a further 18 months of killing and mayhem. I was told not to open my mouth in public, so as not to give my English accent away, believe me it was still a scary place to be. But over the years following the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, things changed. Just as the leaders back in the twenties had entered politics, so the Irish Republicans viewed the GFA as an opportunity to work towards reunification over the long-term.
Of course there were more dissidents that promised to keep the literal battle alive, there were very few of them, they lacked community support and critically they lacked support of the moneyed Americans that had funded so much of the previous campaign.
It appeared to outsiders that the peace was permanent. The outward signs were positive. I kept one of my older bikes over in Ireland for 7 or 8 years from 2010, and in that time as I rode around the roads I noticed how the once brightly-painted kerbstones had faded, and flags (always emblematic of the assertion of territory) became less common and more tatty.
My father-in-law took me to a game at Derry City one Friday night, and happily introduced me to all and sundry. He was a stalwart of the club, its unofficial historian, and knew just about everyone. Never had I felt more welcome at a football match at another ground other than my own.
Friends often engaged in conversation with me, what was it all about, or what was the correct thing to say? But I couldn’t explain it. Partly because whilst I have as very good historical and contemporary knowledge of what is going on, and I’ve seen the impact of change over the years in changing some of the superficial attitudes, I knew that deep under the surface there were cultural currents running that had been in existence since the 16th century, if not before. It’s hard to explain that, it’s visceral.
But it didn’t seem matter, an accommodation and shared institutions had seemed to not make the divide and the history as important anymore. Initially war-weariness had driven the process of peace, but then a new generation, supposedly free of the old enmities had come to the fore, and it seemed we were into a new era.
The Brexit happened.
In 2019, after visiting for a family wedding, I blogged about how all those kerbstones had been painted again, and fresh new flags were flying in the hardline areas. Both sides were gearing up for something, even if they didn’t know what. There’s an old piece of management bollocks that “culture eats strategy for breakfast”, and it’s as true for communal conflict as it is for business performance.
What English people have consistently failed to realise is that the GFA, the peace process didn’t answer the Irish question or solve the conflict. Because there is no solving it. The relative sizes of Nationalist and Loyalist communities in the north (please note small “n”) are too similar for there ever to be a time when both sides would be happy. All you can hope for is to find a way to make the divide not matter.
The second thing English people do not understand is that Irish culture in general, and the culture of the north in particular, is a world away from British, and specifically English culture. Nor do most English know anything about the history of the last 100 years in the northern state, let alone the last 400 or 800 years of Anglo-Irish experience. Common membership of the EU, in particular the Customs Union and Single Market, were the structural framework that allowed the GFA to work. Without it, it will never work as intended, despite all the excuses of British politicians.
Nobody should be surprised at the upsurge of violence in Belfast, Derry and elsewhere. Nor is it enough to blame “criminal elements encouraging the youngsters”. On Friday I listened to two community workers from the loyalist community, erudite and educated people, explain that loyalist rioting was justified because Nationalist areas had all the new housing and jobs. It reminded me of a conversation I had way back with my Father in Law, also an erudite and educated man, about integrated education being the answer to long-term peace. “You see Guy”, he explained, “the Protestants would never agree to it”.
I bet hardly anyone in Britain who voted for Brexit thought about its impact on Ireland and the peace process. Even if they did, I suspect generally they wouldn’t have thought it important. Another “Project Fear” most likely. In any case that ship has sailed now so there’s no point banging on about it. But as I see those petrol bombs flying through the air, and see the water cannons being deployed, I know if won’t be long until the Army is being brought in to keep the peace. It’s all so depressingly familiar.
It’s not the end, by any means, of peace. But we are going to need a lot of fresh thinking, brave people and bold decisions. I hope our politicians can do what they have consistently failed to do for the last five years, and actually show some leadership.
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