LAST FRIDAY, in a melodramatically titled leader piece, “Northern Warning”, this newspaper gave its reaction to a peace monitoring report published by the Northern Ireland Community Relations Council.
It described the report as “. . . a chilling reminder that, where deep-rooted animosities persist, complacency and old ways of doing things are dangerous enemies”.
And there was me thinking that, all things considered, Northern Ireland was doing fine, and should continue to do so, just so long as reconciliation isn’t pushed too hard but is allowed to develop naturally (as is slowly happening) from the political stability. But then, what do I know?
The leader did concede that “there was no magic wand to dispel the effects of discrimination that disfigured Northern Ireland for so long”. Although, at the risk of appearing pernickety, I thought it was the effects of more than three decades of violence, and the resulting 3,000-plus deaths and countless injuries that had left Northern Ireland disfigured.
Unless . . . but no, surely not.
Another claim, that progress in the North has been stymied by a “less than anticipated” peace dividend, is simply inaccurate. At a conservative estimate, about €10 billion in extra funding has thus far been pumped into Northern Ireland, with its population of a mere 1.8 million people.
Instead of complaining that not enough has arrived, we should be demanding to know where the peace money has gone.
What of the council report (and regardless of the semantic acrobatics around ownership, this is a council report)? It concludes: political institutions are secure; paramilitary related violence is down (markedly so); Catholics account for about half the public service workforce; 30.3 per cent of PSNI officers are Catholic (above Patten’s target); confidence in policing is at an all-time high (80.2 per cent); crime is low; and a new confident and neutral urban culture has emerged.
“While post-conflict societies like Kosovo, Guatemala or [especially] South Africa have often recorded increases in crime following a peace settlement, this has not been the case in Northern Ireland,” the report comments.
Apologies for being a bit of a Pollyanna, but I find none of that chilling.
Moreover, neither, apparently, do most other people in Northern Ireland. Last week, the United Kingdom’s Office of National Statistics released data from its Measuring National Wellbeing programme which shows that the Northern Irish are the happiest, most satisfied people in the UK.
But then, what do they know? How can the Northern Irish possibly be happy when they haven’t yet dealt with “the legacy of the past”? Or perhaps the vast majority of them have, by simply leaving it behind and getting on with their lives. What I do find a little disconcerting – if not surprising, given the well-aired views of one of its contributors – is the overtly political position the council report adopts at times (which may explain the reluctance to claim full ownership).
I have a deal of sympathy for the council’s belief that the Belfast Agreement tends to reinforce sectarian division. However, while other healthier sounding theoretical alternatives have often been suggested, the only viable (that is, sellable to the people) political construct – and therefore, route out of conflict – was and remains the one that was arrived at.
The report also suggests that reconciliation is being held back because Sinn Féin and the DUP hold such commanding political positions. Whether this is true or not, and as with its position on the agreement, is it really the council’s place (directly or via a surrogate) to be questioning the democratically expressed wishes of the people?
The report tells us that public housing in Northern Ireland (which, excluding private rentals, accounts for about 17 per cent of the stock) is still split along religious lines, but doesn’t proffer any ideas on what can be done about it. Is the council suggesting that politicians or the Northern Ireland Housing Executive should try to force communities to live together?
What progress has the council made on this issue in the 22 years since it was formed? Education is also segregated, we are reminded. But again, what to do about it? Override the wishes of Catholic parents and force them to send their children to state schools (which, like policing once was, are overwhelmingly Protestant by default)?
When, a year or two ago, First Minister Peter Robinson cited separate schooling as an obstacle to reconciliation, not a single nationalist politician or commentator supported him unreservedly and neither did the council.
Like many others, I detest the mixing of religion and education. However, I am at a loss to imagine how the existing educational framework can be deconstructed without trampling on the democratic rights of
parents to choose where their children are educated.
That Catholic-maintained schools consistently deliver a higher standard of education than state schools hardly helps sell the argument for change.
Like it or not, there are many issues in Northern Ireland that will require time and patience to resolve, and of course complacency is a threat, but we’re bright enough to realise that. A greater threat is needless doom-mongering.