Those bad old days are all but history. Especially since British Prime Minister Tony Blair fast-tracked talks in 1997, a wobbly peace–juxtaposed against a few horrific lapses–began to take hold in Northern Ireland. The negotiations, with the help of former U.S. senator George Mitchell, culminated in the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, which raised the prospect of home rule for the first time in a generation. Then last summer the process faltered, again. The cause: guns–who has them and when they are going to get rid of them. The governments of Britain and Ireland called Mitchell back in to rescue the process. Finally last week, Mitchell wrung from the IRA a statement on disarmament that satisfied the concerns of David Trimble, leader of the Ulster Unionist Party. The door to forming a Northern Ireland government was once again open. “As a result of all these efforts,” a weary but exultant Mitchell said on Thursday, “neither side will get all it wanted and both will endure severe political pain. But there is no other way forward.”
In its statement, the IRA didn’t exactly give away the store. It merely said that it “unequivocally” backed the Good Friday Agreement, which presumes a peaceful transition to multiparty government, and agreed to name a representative to meet with the commission charged with disarming all of Northern Ireland’s paramilitary organizations. But that was enough in war-torn Ulster, where an ounce of nuance can be worth its weight in gold. Mitchel McLaughlin, chairman of Sinn Fein, the IRA’s political arm, emphasized that the IRA’s shift was part of an effort “to civilianize our society.” He added: “I don’t think you can expect rapid progress.” That is almost certainly true. In fact, Dublin police sources told NEWSWEEK that the most they expect from the IRA is to dump their arms into several “cold storage” locations in the Irish Republic and hope to get the disarmament commissioner, Canadian Gen. John de Chastelain, to certify that the weaponry is “beyond use.”
Nobody really knows what the next step is. Weapons and those who are aching to use them remain the great stumbling block to peaceful coexistence in Northern Ireland. According to security sources, the IRA still has about one half of the munitions it got from Libya in the 1980s. The IRA, of course, does not have a munitions monopoly. Jane’s Intelligence Review estimates that loyalist paramilitaries have one tenth of what the IRA has. But that is not insignificant, especially if you accept the IRA view that, in the enemy column, you have to count the arsenals of the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the “occupation” British Army. Just as the IRA got guns and money for guns from America (although an FBI crackdown in fact turned the IRA toward Libya), loyalist paramilitaries–including the Ulster Defense Association and the Ulster Volunteer Force and others that have links to unionist parties–have received weapons from sympathizers in Canada, Scotland and South Africa. The Belfast Telegraph estimates that loyalists paramilitaries have access to an arsenal that includes 80 submachine guns, more than 700 handguns and 185 grenades, among other munitions.
In a week ringing with pronouncements, Sinn Fein president Gerry Adams said that “IRA guns are silent.” Adams is an enormously charismatic figure in republican politics. Whether his earnest eloquence can possibly reflect the on-the-ground reality of this pitiable province is for history to decide. This Saturday, Trimble will take the Sinn Fein-IRA offer to his party council. If he gets a green light, the new Northern Ireland Assembly will try to seat a former IRA commander, Martin McGuinness, in government alongside the likes of an anti-Good Friday Agreement firebrand like Peter Robinson of the Rev. Ian Paisley’s Democratic Unionist Party. It’s an explosive mix. But at least it’s government–not Semtex.
