Opinion

Allison Morris: Hand of friendship is a start but not an end to political crisis

Sinn Féin leader in the north Michelle O'Neill shakes hands with DUP leader Arlene Foster. Picture from Darran Marshall, BBC
Sinn Féin leader in the north Michelle O'Neill shakes hands with DUP leader Arlene Foster. Picture from Darran Marshall, BBC Sinn Féin leader in the north Michelle O'Neill shakes hands with DUP leader Arlene Foster. Picture from Darran Marshall, BBC

The hand of friendship, a reaching out by two political leaders at the funeral of Martin McGuinness, was a spontaneous moment of hope in a pretty bleak few months.

As Sinn Féin leader Michelle O'Neill reached across to grasp the hand of DUP leader Arlene Foster, shoving former US president Bill Clinton out of the way in the process, there was something very real about it, and a chink of light in dark times.

However, like almost all landmark historical moments, the optimism was short lived, crushed just days later when the most uninspiring and lacklustre talks process in Northern Ireland's history came to an end.

Few were surprised, the negotiations had never got off the ground, never mind making it to a substantive stage.

Three weeks to solve decades of animosity was unrealistically optimistic while an extended talks period to save us all the pain of another election is inevitable.

Martin McGuinness's death at the age of 66 was premature and at a time when the party he had dedicated his life to needed strong leadership, arguably more than that any other time in its modern history.

The unique trajectory of his life from Bogside IRA man to elder statesman was bound to cause controversy when it came to how he should be remembered.

His legacy is tied up in all our futures, because there are different narratives in relation to what started the conflict, what kept it going for over three decades and what brought it to an end.

Those who suffered most are often those most open to compromise and healing. Of all the victims I've spoken to over the years, not wanting anyone else to go through what they have is the most commonly spoken sentiment.

And so it was in pretty poor taste to hear commentators untouched by the conflict spitting the most divisive vitriol. Those who only ever reported on conflict at an arms length seem most keen on keeping the old animosities alive.

The two warring tribes with the British army acting as a peace keeping force in the middle, may be a more palatable view of our history, but it is not one that fits in with the reality of what happened.

I spoke to quite a few members of the press from England and Wales in the days after the death of the former deputy first minister and got a very real sense of the total lack of understanding of our conflict and its complexities.

And you know what that's fine, why would someone living in a leafy south of England suburb take time to study Britain's role in Ireland's wars?

Events that have never and will never affect them.

What Martin McGuinness's death and my interaction with outside media agencies did do was make me question my role and responsibility as a local reporter covering the legacy of our conflict.

Various victims and family members who lost loved ones were continually asked if they 'forgave' McGuinness.

While all answered differently, in terms of where they were on the journey of their personal grief, most understandably said 'no'.

If I lost a sister, brother or father I'm sure I'd feel the same but as we try and repair the broken, political structures that the peace process gifted us with, is asking people to forgive the right question?

If the death of Martin McGuinness reawakens the debate about how we deal with - and help - hundreds of victims of violence, state, loyalist and republican, then that is no bad thing.

 Arlene Foster arriving at Martin McGuinness' funeral. Picture by Alan Lewis, Photopress
 Arlene Foster arriving at Martin McGuinness' funeral. Picture by Alan Lewis, Photopress  Arlene Foster arriving at Martin McGuinness' funeral. Picture by Alan Lewis, Photopress

The tens of thousands of people who lined the streets of Derry to pay their last respects, along with dignitaries and even a former American president, showed the high regard and respect McGuinness had garnered in the latter years of his life.

That outpouring of grief and respect, along with the views of those whose wounds remain raw is all part of our complex history and difficult future.

And that is why the handshake between two women with very different views on the history of our conflict - one who only decided to attend the funeral at the final hour because of her own experiences - was so important.

Maybe instead of asking victims to forgive we should instead be asking them what we can do to help them live.

For forgiveness is not essential to making Northern Ireland politically stable but respect for differing views is.