LECTURE BY SIR IVOR ROBERTS TO THE IRISH ASSOCIATION:
28 FEBRUARY 2003

"New Relationships Within and Between These Islands"

Ladies and Gentlemen

I am absolutely delighted that my final public speaking engagement as British Ambassador to Ireland will be to friends at the Irish Association. Thank you for inviting me this evening.

I am grateful for the kind words of the Chairman. I hope my contribution to this lecture series is not too much of a disappointment after such a build-up. One Chairman, introducing me at a speech recently, said 'Sir Ivor's speeches always do some good. People go away either stimulated or wake up refreshed'. After another speech, which I fear went on rather long, I asked the Chairman nervously afterwards whether I had spoken at too great a length. 'Not at all', he said, 'you have helped to shorten the winter'.

We diplomats do not have a very good press. We do, however, come in slightly above politicians in the ratings game. No joke against politicians can be too cruel. A doctor, an engineer and a politician were discussing which of their professions came first. The doctor reminded them of how Eve was created from Adam's rib, clearly an example of surgery. The engineer replied that the creation of the world from chaos was obviously a great feat of engineering and so he claimed priority. "Ah", said the politician, "what about the chaos, who do you think was responsible for that?".

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am about to embark on my final job as a diplomat. Her Britannic Majesty's Foreign and Commonwealth Office, in its wisdom, has decreed four years of Roman toil. I shall leave Ireland soon, and with great sadness. Like every person who gets to know this country, part of me shall stay here forever.

The relations within and between our Islands have been my life-blood for four years. I believe that these relations have never been better; a belief that was recently described to me as a cliché? A cliché? Good. It was not so long ago that such a belief would have been dismissed as an attempt at humour.

The events of Good Friday 1998 encapsulate the new mood. The Belfast Agreement is a remarkable one. The process it entails has not, is not and never will be an easy one. Negotiation is not meant to be enjoyable. Those of you with a classical bent will know that the word itself comes from the Latin neg (not) and otium (joy or leisure). In other words, no leisure or pleasure. Those of us who have been involved in diplomacy and negotiation know how true that is, but there is of course no gain without pain.

We now have a settlement rooted in the principles of consent, justice and equality in which politics is replacing violence as the way people do business. But the difficulty with an agreement is that whatever language the signatories use in binding themselves to implement the agreement, they cannot create the ingredient of mutual trust. An old Spanish proverb illustrates the problem. "Traveller, there are no roads, roads are made by walking". Trust, in other words, can only be built on the basis of experience, common experience, common fruitful experience.

Unfortunately, relations within and between these islands have been defined for far too long by nationalism. Whenever I think of nationalism my mind goes back to my first Ambassadorial post, in the Belgrade and the Yugoslavia of Slobodan Milosevic. The Western Balkans was a gigantic laboratory for the great ideological storms which Sir Isaiah Berlin, that outstanding historian of ideas, described as having been one of the main factors shaping human history in the 20th century - the Bolshevik revolution and its aftermath. Totalitarian tyrannies of both right and left and the explosions of nationalism, racism and, in places, religious bigotry. Yugoslavia was uniquely disadvantaged, exposed as it was to nearly all the ideological storms, which Berlin mentioned.

In 1997, British foreign policy was given the soubriquet "ethical". But two years earlier, I had intuitively anticipated this move in giving a talk in Belgrade on the subject of human rights. In what proved to be a deeply unpopular talk received in stony silence, I reflected on the coincidence that 900 years ago to that month, in which the accords bringing the Bosnian war to an end were being signed in Dayton, Ohio, Pope Urban II had launched the 1st Crusade at Clermont Ferrand. A crusade which (4 years later in 1099) would bring Godefroy de Bouillon's Knights triumphantly to the tomb of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, many still dripping in the blood of their Muslim/Saracen victims, men, women and children indiscriminately slaughtered by the Crusaders. My speech was delivered four months after the slaughter of 7,000 Muslim men at Srebrenica in Bosnia. In case my Serb audience had missed the point, I rubbed it in. I was never invited back. It was nevertheless a chilling and depressing reminder of the acts of inhumanity - 900 years apart - which could be carried out in the name of a Christian god.

But how, I was told, in Belgrade can you dare lecture us about our 'alleged' - never admitted - offences against our Muslim neighbours when you have two Christian sects killing each other in Northern Ireland.

This was not an immediately easy question to answer. Why indeed were two branches of Christianity literally at each other's throats? Of course, the Serbs had Catholic Christian foes in the shape of the Croats and had suffered grievously at their hands in the 1940s under the Ustaše regime. The answer to the question was easier to examine in Bosnia than in Northern Ireland. In Bosnia you had an ethnically homegrown group of Southern Slavs indistinguishable in looks, colouring, language. Divided only by religion - Muslim, Orthodox and Catholic - and custom. The answer to the question came, I think, in an essay by Freud on the subject of what he called "the narcissism of small differences", and to which Paul Gillespie, I believe, alluded to in an earlier lecture in this series. Freud's contention was that it was precisely in the groups which had relatively little to distinguish each other that the jealousies, the narcissism most easily led to violent attempts to mark that difference and to want to obliterate those who most nearly resembled you. The read across to Northern Ireland is clear enough.

To circumvent these "minor differences", to move away from nationalism and tribalism/sectarianism involves reducing the extent to which people feel secure and understood only among people like themselves. Put another way, we need to find a way to overcome what has been described as social autism, "the pathology of groups so enclosed in their own circle of victimhood or so locked into their own myths or rituals of violence that they can't listen, can't hear, can't learn from anybody outside themselves." We need to overcome, in Northern Ireland, this bell-jar mentality by discounting and rejecting sectarianism in all its sinister forms and promoting not just trust but the kind of individualism that can survive only in conditions of trust. The sort of threats made against those who would consider joining the new police service in Northern Ireland are, of course, anathema to that approach and a classic example of intolerance and of the collective gangsterism in which paramilitary structures thrive.

The phrase "human rights" trips off politicians' tongues with increasing frequency. But what does this mantra actually mean? It is not a concept to be worshipped for its own sake. It is because justice and equality for all before the law and in every part of society form the glue which hold a society together. Where the opposite obtains, injustice and inequality, you have a solvent which breaks down the fabric of society. In the town hall in Siena there is a famous series of frescoes by Lorenzetti depicting good and bad government. Those 14th century Tuscans knew what good government was centuries before Rousseau had written on the rights of man. And the criteria were the same 600 years ago as the aspirations of the leaders of the civil rights movement: justice and equality. It is precisely to correct the historic wrongs suffered by Catholics in Northern Ireland that the British government, through the Belfast Agreement, has committed itself to the thorough reform of policing, criminal justice and human rights in Northern Ireland.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I remember very clearly, 10 years ago, having just returned from nearly 5 years as a diplomat in Spain, going to visit Northern Ireland to talk to NIO officials there about my analysis of the terrorist group ETA and the Spanish government's reaction to it.

At the time, ETA seemed to be on their last legs. The Spanish security authorities believed that the number of active members in their commandos were fewer than 30. At that time our equivalent guesstimate of the scale of the Provisionals threat was around 900. And yet despite their strength, the IRA were already coming to accept that their aims could not be met by the Armalite, or indeed by a combination of the Armalite and the ballot box. The cold reality of this analysis led the IRA to the reluctant conclusion that they would have to achieve their aims through accepting the principle of consent. This was an enormous change in position by the Republicans and it is proper and right to acknowledge the extent of it. To those who had been brought up to regard the border and partition as a gerrymander of gargantuan proportions, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

We need, however, to remind ourselves that, although Sinn Fein signed up to the Belfast Agreement, not all Republicans see that as an end in itself. They see it as a transitional phase where the British government is being or should be dislodged from many of the parapets it has occupied. It is in this context that we should see the regular and increasingly insistent calls from the Republican movement for demilitarisation.

It is in this context too that there grows the Unionist perception that all the concessions have been made on their side, that their world (and with it all its certainties) has been turned on its head and that they are under siege not just from the nationalist and republican community but from the two governments as well. They believe that there is an obligation, in return for their agreement to continue to work the institutions, for there to be visible progress on the Republican side as well. This Manichaean view ignores many of the real gains for the Unionist community of the Belfast Agreement. The consent principle which constitutional nationalists accepted in the 1920s has been adopted by the republican movement and has been reflected in the new language of the constitution. There is still violence, but at a far, far reduced rate - in 1972, 470 people died. Last year, ten. Ten too many, but let us recognise the progress made. The transformation in the economy has been enormous: unemployment at its lowest since 1975; long-term unemployment, down 65 per cent since the Agreement; and manufacturing up 15 per cent, uniquely in the UK. New jobs, new investment and a new way of life, as anyone who walks through Belfast city centre, or that of Londonderry or any other town can see.

And in all sorts of small but immensely symbolic ways life has changed. Not for all, I know. If you're in the Short Strand, or the victim of the latest pipe bomb attack or have been made an example of by the men with baseball bats or caught in the inter-community violence in North Belfast, these words about progress seem hollow. But Northern Ireland is different today. Different and better.

At the core of the Agreement was this deal: in return for equality and justice - in politics, policing, in acceptance of nationalist identity - all parties were to commit exclusively to peace.

Remove the threat of violence and the peace process is on an unstoppable path. That threat, no matter how damped down, is no longer reinforcing the political, it is actually destroying it. In fact, the continuing existence of the IRA as an active paramilitary organisation is now the best card those whom republicans call "rejectionist" unionists, have in their hand. It is used as a justification of their refusal to share power; it embarrasses moderate unionism and pushes wavering unionists into the hands of those who would just return Northern Ireland to the past. And because it also embarrasses the British and Irish Governments, it makes it harder for us to respond to nationalist concerns. The ambiguity with which the Republican movement handled the relationship between Sinn Fein and the Provisional IRA may have helped oil the wheels of the peace process in the past but it has now become the grit which has brought its machinery to a grinding halt.

There are of course problems elsewhere, just as distressing and in some ways less amenable to solution. Consider the now notorious mural in the Shankill - a terrible skulled creature, surrounded by a heap of bodies, dressed in black rags, gun in one hand, Ulster flag in the othe. Compare this to murals down the road, in the Falls, which show Turkish hunger strikers, scenes from the West Bank and demands for more reform to the police. The difference in community self-portrait is stark, and reminds one of the observation that while Republican prisoners studied for PHDs, their Loyalists counterparts pumped iron.

I feel sorry for some of the political leaders of loyalism. They have tried hard and been immensely brave at critical points. David Ervine, for example, is one of the most impressive figures on the scene at the moment. But the activities of loyalist paramilitaries no longer fool anyone. There was always something bizarre about the idea of "loyalists" to the UK behaving in a way that was completely repugnant to 99% of the people in the UK they were supposed to be loyal to. But now most people do not see even a veneer of politics associated with the violence; and much of it has long since descended into gangsterism, drug-dealing and organised crime. Handing in a few pipe-bombs does not mean a better breed of paramilitary is taking over.

However, I know the political leadership still want to find a way to lead loyalist communities back to political influence. They too need the help that comes from change.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you will be familiar with the phrase of Seamus Mallon that the Belfast Agreement was Sunningdale for slow learners. Its depressing that it took nearly 30 years to develop and implement a strategy which commanded widespread consent across both communities in Northern Ireland. Nevertheless, successive British administrations sought, with varying degrees of success, to promote an agreement sustained by majorities in both parts of the island and worked on the whole, and despite periodic strains, increasingly closely with successive Irish governments to that end.

The strategic objective of the British and Irish Governments since the signing of the Agreement can be summed up in one rather unpretty word: normalisation.

There is much to normalise. Of course, some good things carry on as before. The Common Travel Area remains a corner-stone in the British-Irish architecture. And we all know that the UK is the largest market for Irish goods, and Ireland the fourth largest market for the UK. The cross-fertilisation of talent in academia, professional bodies, culture, entertainment and sport has never been stronger.

But what does normalisation mean for a practitioner? I have seen at first hand the development of the extremely warm and cordial personal chemistry between the Prime Minister and the Taoiseach. It is this which sets the tone for the bilateral relationship more broadly. But let me give you some practical examples:

The unveiling in 1998 by Her Majesty the Queen and President McAleese of the Memorial to those from throughout the island of Ireland who died in the First World War.

The exchanges of national day greetings between the two Heads of State which are now possible following the removal from the Irish Constitution of the territorial claim to Northern Ireland.

The visit by the Irish Guards to the Republic for the first time since Independence.

The address to both Houses of the Irish Parliament by Tony Blair.

More recent events are equally noteworthy. I am sure you have all read the highly personal and poetic speech delivered by HRH Prince Charles at Glencree last year. If not, I would recommend it. I found it remarkable, during last year's election campaign, that David Trimble and Mark Durkan were able quietly to visit Dublin to make a routine call on the Taoiseach. I found it remarkable that the Irish Tricolour flew at half-mast over Government buildings, including the GPO in O'Connell Street, as President McAleese attended the funeral of the Queen Mother. And when I played a round of golf at the K-Club recently, the Union flag was flown beside the Tricolore.

Barely a month goes by when a British warship, docked on the Liffey, dispenses entertainment to the guests of her Captain - events, once remarkable, but now so routine as to be barely worthy of comment. My Embassy is permanently deluged by UK visitors - indeed, I believe that we are now the most visited British Embassy in the world. Only this week the Northern Ireland Select Committee of the House of Commons visited Dublin and met Irish Parliamentarians at my Residence and at Leinster House. The Committee included senior members of the Ulster Unionist Party and the Deputy Leader of the Democratic Unionist Party, Peter Robinson. Not so long ago, this would have been a matter of great interest, if not controversy. It is the triumph of the routine which is so noteworthy.

Other aspects of normalisation are underscored by the unprecedented levels of co-operation created by the formal links between the British and Irish Governments. This new mood has been given institutional form by the British Irish Council. The Belfast Agreement states that the objective of the BIC is to promote the harmonious and mutually beneficial development of the totality of relationships among the peoples of these islands. The two governments, the devolved administrations and the representatives of the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man are now busy tackling an agreed Programme of Work, the priority areas of which are Environment, Transport, Social Inclusion, Drugs and the Knowledge economy.

Changes in the Governance of the UK, and in particular the 'variable geometry' created by devolution, have helped this process. Devolution was a bold and radical change to the way the UK is governed - in British terms a constitutional revolution. Successive British governments wrestled with the paradox of regarding devolution as the starting point for the resolution of the problems of Northern Ireland while at the same time having deprived the people of Northern Ireland of its devolved government 30 years ago. Now Northern Ireland is joined by two other Devolved Administrations, firmly on their feet. These administrations provide 'bite-sized chunks' which Ireland, I think, finds easier to deal with.

There are subterranean trends too. One is closer co-operation on European issues. Not just in policy areas such as social security, tax, justice and home affairs and the Lisbon agenda of economic reform, but also in the Convention on the Future of Europe which is preparing the ground for the 2004 Intergovernmental Conference. British and Irish co-operation will be imprinted on what could, I believe, turn out to be a Treaty of Dublin. This is a far cry from the days when Irish officials were instructed to speak French at EU meetings.

Both our countries have matured in ways which are easier to see and feel than describe. Ireland is of course undergoing profound change. I see a modern, open economy with some of the best business brains around. I see leaders in popular culture. I see a country as part of the European mainstream, having made the most of European structural funds but no longer reliant on them. This country, rightly, grows in self-confidence by the day. As it does so it becomes easier to deal with.

Like that great Irish man of letters, Hubert Butler, I look to the day when the border on this island becomes a mark of distinction rather than one of division. Famously, Winston Churchill once said that Britain and America were divided by a common language. The United Kingdom and Ireland have often been divided by a common history. But these divisions are narrower than they have ever been, and the bridges wider. I can leave this island confidently expecting this happy process to continue; and knowing that the Irish Association will be at the fore.

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