IN JULY 1998, George Mitchell, the former US senator, was awarded the Liberty Medal in the United States for the important part that he played in securing the Good Friday Agreement. When receiving the medal, he said: “I believe there’s no such thing as a conflict that can’t be ended. They’re created and sustained by human beings. They can be ended by human beings. No matter how ancient the conflict, no matter how hateful, no matter how hurtful, peace can prevail.” Mr Mitchell, now 89, was planning to be in Belfast this week despite currently receiving treated for leukaemia. He might now be tempted to say that there is no such thing as a peace that cannot be ended, given the succession of statements and actions that have threatened the Agreement in recent months, from the cavalier framing of the post-Brexit protocol to the stand-offs that have brought Stormont government to a standstill. The 25th anniversary of the Agreement is thus opportune, a reminder of the open violence that existed before it — and could break out again if suspicion and hostility are not held in check.
For now, it is hard to believe that anyone who remembers the killings and maimings during the Troubles — and the matriarchs, in particular, who had such a hand in turning the tide of opinion — would allow the hard-won peace and prosperity of the past 25 years to be abandoned. But it is always hard to conceive why anyone should opt for violence. It is fondly thought of as a last resort, but, as we have seen in Eastern Europe, a thankfully few political leaders deploy violence with a careless cynicism to achieve ends that cannot be gained by legitimate, democratic means. It is this thwarting or circumventing of democracy which carries such a threat in Northern Ireland. Whatever the causes of the disagreements that have stalled the Northern Ireland Assembly, the effect has been to remove the image and example of nationalists’ and loyalists’ working together for the common good. Unless the stand-off can be resolved, and quickly, the vital message that compromise does not equal betrayal is not being broadcast to the more extreme elements in each community.
Robin Eames, Archbishop of Armagh from 1986 to 2006, was another whose contribution to the Agreement will never be fully known. The fruits of his efforts, though, persist in the closeness that has developed between the Churches. It is now unremarkable that the Anglican and Roman Catholic Archbishops of Armagh address their communities together at festivals. In their Easter message, Archbishops McDowell and Martin wrote of the anniversary. Sadly, they had to ask: “Have we, in the Christian community in Ireland, allowed ourselves to forget the greatness of this achievement, the sacrifices and risk-taking that made it happen, the light it shone into the darkest of days and the promise and hope it offered?” It is for the people of Northern Ireland to tell their politicians that they have not forgotten, and demand that their representatives stop behaving as if they had.