It is customary, at milestone birthdays, to look back at what we have achieved – since the last milestone, or over our whole lives – and reflect on what we might want to change for the future. A sort of whole-life performance appraisal if you like. Most 25-year-olds might do this over a few drinks with their mates rather than in a Constitution Society blog-piece, but the Belfast/Good Friday Agreement is no ordinary Gen Z-er.
So, what are the things it should feel most proud of since that misty morning on 10 April 1998?
It has provided constitutional certainty and security.
The principle of consent provided an unprecedented and cast-iron guarantee that Northern Ireland’s constitutional future lay firmly in the hands of its people. No more does the Irish constitution contain a territorial claim on Northern Ireland: it respects Northern Ireland’s position as part of the United Kingdom. And no more is there a risk of obstruction from, or betrayal by, Perfidious Albion acting in its own selfish strategic or economic interest (with or without Michael Ancram’s famous comma!). Northern Ireland will remain a constituent part of the United Kingdom for as long as that remains the wish of a majority of the people of Northern Ireland. And, if that majority view ever changes, there is a democratic route towards a future reunified Ireland, with obligations on the British and Irish government to facilitate that. Whatever one’s political aspirations for Northern Ireland’s future constitutional position, the principle of consent is fundamental.
It confirmed that all the people of Northern Ireland had the right to identify themselves, and be accepted as British or Irish or both, and to hold citizenship accordingly.
This was accompanied by a requirement that the government with sovereign power in Northern Ireland (currently the British government) would exercise power with ‘rigorous impartiality’ including in relation to respect for the different political aspirations of both communities. The Agreement is clear that these protections will continue irrespective of the future constitutional status of Northern Ireland: in any possible future reunified Ireland, the people of Northern Ireland will, if they so choose, continue to have the right to identify as British, and to hold British citizenship.
It set out an overarching framework within which devolved government in Northern Ireland could and should operate.
‘No man is an island, entire of itself’ wrote John Donne in 1624. The same is true of Northern Ireland. The Agreement accordingly reflects in its three Strands the context in which Northern Ireland exists, what John Hume described as the ‘totality of relationships’ – within Northern Ireland (Strand 1), between Northern Ireland and Ireland (Strand 2), and between the British and Irish governments (Strand 3). A series of cross-Strand issues (e.g. rights, security, justice) also run between them. While distinct and with their own individual dynamics, the ‘interlocking and interdependent’ nature of these relationships reflect Northern Ireland’s connections to the world around it, not an introspective isolated island, but a place connected to its neighbours – and the richer for it. This framework affects not just those in Northern Ireland but creates enduring responsibilities for both the British and Irish governments. Ignoring these responsibilities, or prioritising any of these relationships above the others risks disadvantaging Northern Ireland.
It cemented the principle of consociational politics.
However bureaucratic and (literally) formulaic some of the arrangements are, the principle of having a framework that guarantees the sharing of power between those from different sides of the community in Northern Ireland was an essential break with the pre-1972 past. This was not a new concept, having been part of the Sunningdale agreement in 1973, but the creation of diarchic First Ministers, who hold power jointly, elevated power-sharing to the very top of the Executive. Mo Mowlam observed that ‘people working together can overcome many obstacles, often within themselves, and by doing so can make the world a better place’. The consociational nature of the Agreement has been vital in helping to make Northern Ireland a better place than it was in 1995.
It provided a clear basis for a referendum.
The comprehensive nature of the proposals in the agreement, and the fact that the British and Irish Governments had already signalled their commitment to enacting them (subject to referendum outcome) meant that those going to the ballot boxes on 22 May 1998 could make an informed decision about how to vote and what the practical outworkings would be of each option. The same could not be said of other, more recent referendums within the UK. There is an important constitutional point here. A clear question on the ballot paper is crucial; but the admirable desire for clarity risks coming at the expense of understanding if there is not additional, definitive, accurate information to explain what is actually involved in each of the choices. If, as an electorate, we need to participate in major constitutional decisions, we also need unambiguous and factually accurate information on which to make our voting decisions, rather than leaving us to rely on sound-bites and tweets in an echo-chamber. Responsible government, and the effective operation of our constitution, means transparency and accuracy in the conduct of all referendums.
It demonstrated the importance of inclusive and thorough process.
Outside the Agreement itself, there is value in reflecting on the process that helped reach it, painstakingly developed by John Major, Patrick Mayhew, their Irish counterparts and officials in both governments. The structure for the Multi-Party Negotiations was carefully constructed to be inclusive rather than restricted to the two largest parties and to avoid any hint that either the British or Irish government were steering the process to their own selfish ends. The arrangements were also designed to help reach an agreement that commanded genuine cross-community support, rather than to reach a swift conclusion in the interests of expediency. Those of us who walked into Castle Buildings on 10 June 1996 might not have expected we would still be there nearly two years later, but we were clear that this was an ongoing process that would need a significant investment of time and energy, in a structured and coordinated way. Sometimes things take time, and haste can often deliver a worse end product. In the words of Paul Murphy, ‘slow progress should not be mistaken for standing still’ – but there needs to be an ongoing structured process in order to keep forward momentum.
It provided hope.
More intangibly but perhaps just as valid, it has stood for many – in all sections of the community in Northern Ireland – as a beacon of hope, after many years of Direct Rule, many more years of single-party devolved government and many years of bloodshed. Its iconic value in this regard cannot be overestimated. The sense of optimism and goodwill is captured perfectly in the Agreement’s Opening Declaration, which is almost a secular creed espousing the collective hope for a better, shared future.
And what of the future? How should it be looking to develop in the years ahead.
Changing the overall structure – the fundamental section on Constitutional Issues, the framework of the three Strands, the importance of the cross-Strand issues, and the principle of power-sharing – would not be reform of the Agreement. It would be holing it below the water-line.
Looking at the mechanics of how some of the institutions work is, however, worthwhile, and was explicitly envisaged in the original Agreement. The blueprint set out in 1998 was intended to provide a way for devolved government to operate, but not necessarily the only way forever. The arrangements, particularly those relating to the election of the First Ministers and the designation of parties, have already been amended in 2006 following the St Andrews Agreement. While those changes were effective in helping to restore the Assembly in 2007, it may be worth reviewing those again, taking account of the way in which the current arrangements can be used as a veto over progress, or the degree to which they entrench tribalism, disenfranchising those who see themselves as neither nationalist nor unionist.
But, while review and possible change should certainly be on the cards, it is crucial that any changes are considered in the round, looking at the impact on the Agreement as a whole rather than approached piecemeal or without regard to the context for the original arrangements. There are significant risks in cherry-picking or unilateral action/inaction. The Agreement itself is much more than the sum of its parts. What made – and makes – it work as a political agreement is its delicate balance of compromises that work together as a package but risk unravelling altogether if one element is altered or removed without considering the overall balance. The GFA is definitely more Pik-a-Stik than Pick’n’Mix.
And whatever happens, the spirit of the Agreement as captured in the Opening Declaration needs to be preserved. If you have not revisited it recently, go and read it: read it out loud, listen to it being sung, reflect on the sense of hope within the words. Whatever tweaks are made to its mechanics, retaining that essence of the Agreement and the spirit of hope it kindled, is vital.
Here’s to the next 25 years, and beyond.
Clare Salters.
Clare Salters is a former senior civil servant, who worked primarily on Northern Ireland and other constitutional issues from the mid-1990s until 2018. She is currently pursuing a freelance career, including serving as a trustee of the Constitution Society.
This blog is the first of five written for the Constitution Society to mark the 25th anniversary of the Belfast/Good Friday Agreement.
The Constitution Society is committed to the promotion of informed debate and is politically impartial. Any views expressed in this article are the personal views of the author and not those of The Constitution Society.