There is an argument to be made that the peace process began before the Troubles erupted, and that point was the momentous engagement between Northern Ireland Prime Minister Terence O’Neill and an Taoiseach Seán Lemass.
Their meetings marked a turning point of sorts in the history of this island; a turning point which was clouded by the shadow of the gunmen and the decades of violence which followed.
Their encounter signalled to the world that two political entities, each in denial of the other’s existence, were finally wakening up to the fact that they shared a common history and geography.
As with many things, the shift happened too late. The indifference of the British and Irish governments over decades – most notably to the widespread abuse of human rights – spilled over into protest and then into violence.
In any case, O’Neill offended his backwoodsmen and was soon gone, Lemass too passed on the reins of power.
It was decades before the thread was taken up again by John Hume and his vision of unity of minds.
On the nationalist side, it is all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the Irish government was, and remains, a benign source for good in the politics of the north.
We share the same history of opposition to colonialism; we share a common sense of what it is to be Irish; a love of the language and Gaelic games; an appreciation of our history; a sense of belonging to a diaspora that is spread across the world.
But there is an alternative view. Those of us with family north and south of the border perhaps best understand the impact of partition: the notion that ‘they are different up there’ is embedded in the Republic’s thinking.
Most southern politicians turned a blind eye to the injustices perpetrated by successive unionist administrations – including O’Neill’s. (You don’t turn back almost 50 years of sectarianism by having tea with nuns or going on a day trip to Dublin).
If Northern Ireland is a failed social, economic and political entity – and it is - what does that say about the Republic? It too has been held back by that malicious decision to create a gerrymandered statelet. It too has been unable to realise its full potential. It too has been reduced by Britain’s continued and increasingly malevolent role in the politics of this island.
Does the Irish government care? It seems not. Witness Taoiseach Micheál Martin’s misguided speech this week commemorating Lemass’s legacy.
Lemass may well be regarded as the father of modern Ireland. But he would have been turning in his grave on hearing Martin’s patronising denunciation of those whose demand for action on Irish unity is not only legitimate, but urgent.
Just listen to what he said:
“It is remarkable how often it is that those who are loudest in calling for national unity are the most divisive in how they treat people who don’t agree with their particular priorities.”
Pot. Kettle. Black.
It is quite simply appalling for a taoiseach to damn advocates for unity with such a broad brush. I do not hear division in the words of the vast majority of those who wish to see a new Ireland.
What I hear are people who want the rights of all on this island respected; people who believe that those of all faiths and none are as Irish as their compatriots; people who want justice, and respect for their own culture, and the cultures of others.
In his speech, Martin said there was a need to find out “exactly what are the similarities and differences between us” north and south.
If that is the case, it’s an indictment of successive Irish governments and the civil service which supports them.
Martin might start by listening to northern voices, people who remain marginalised by a British government that has thrown in its lot with unionism.
But of course, Martin’s speech had nothing to do with the cause of Irish unity or, for that matter, Lemass’s legacy.
It was all about the politics of the Republic. When he says “those who are loudest in calling for Irish unity”, he means Sinn Féin.
Martin needs first to understand that the cause of unity transcends Sinn Féin.
The advocates for unity should include Irish government – but Martin and Leo Varadkar want nothing of it.
Rather than delivering high-minded lectures, an taoiseach would be better off putting the interests of the island ahead of his own.
