Abominable no-men

SELF-CONFIDENT SUMOS

Truth the tell, few (even among Nationalists and Republicans) are altogether happy with the Good Friday peace agreement. It has, however, created a space for the two traditions to begin to approach and try to get a handle on each other in a relatively controlled environment – much like sumo wrestlers circling and slapping each other prior to the bout starting in earnest. But Unionist-Sumo (let's call him) is still jittery, fearing – perhaps not unreasonably – that his opponent is packing more up his loincloth, so to speak, than natural weaponry. The temptation to do a Samson lingers.

This brings us close to the heart of the challenge posed to the Unionist community by the deal. If, having said 'yes' on referendum day, it reverts to destructive mode and brings the assembly down around its ears, it will be indicating that it is incapable of engaging in a process that could, as it gets moving, deliver a better future for all the people of Northern Ireland.

David Trimble is right: Unionists need to develop self-confidence. They need to become players rather than moaning spectators, and the agreement offers them the chance to make this transition. Whether they are able to do so remains to be seen, given that they have been raised and trained on an unhealthy diet of unconditional promises that have guaranteed their right to regard themselves as British in perpetuity without having to reach accommodation with people of a different opinion. Now those days are gone. The principle of consent has rightly been recognised, but after that, there's all to play for if the Unionists will get in shape and get involved.

Predictably, the Rev Dr Paisley, a sumo not renowned for his subtle touch or fast footwork, was a prominent abominable No-man in recent proceedings and promises to be the centre around which the negative Unionist tendency will continue to gather.

Building on his 'Never, never, never, never, never' response to the 1985 Anglo-Irish Agreement, his was a solid, unsurprising 'no' to the Stormont deal. If an archaic 'nay' could have been elicited from him, he could, with appropriate musical accompaniment, have been on his way to a rendition of the 'No, nay, never' chorus of the Wild Rover, but in light of his track record and disposition, this would have been entirely too much like joining in the chorus of hope inaugurated by the 'yes' victory.

HEIR TO THE PROPHETS?

In fairness, Paisley is consistent. He imagines himself an heir to the prophets, a tight man standing foursquare on the law of God, saying 'no' to pretty much everything. His prophetic mantle, though, hangs loose and threadbare in comparison to the biblical prophet, Jeremiah. He was a tight cork, too, who not only knew a thing or two about the law of God, but also the kind of tough decisions thrown up by 'historic moments'.

When the crunch came, Jeremiah was able to radically think beyond a nostalgic attachment to the old days and a restrictive understanding of the old ways. Instead, he encouraged his people, in the interests of hope, to accept and adjust themselves to an alien reality. In God's name, he prophesied: 'Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile'.

After deconstructing Israel's symbolic universe by denouncing each national institution – monarchy, cult, temple, Sabbath observance – around which communal life could be organised, Jeremiah presented the Jewish people with a choice. Stick with the doomed Jerusalem status quo and die; or embrace hated Babylon and live. This is a real rock or hard place scenario – a much more painful and pointed choice than even that presently faced by Unionism.

In the end, the Good Friday deal raises the low-grade spectre for Unionists of one distant day having to contemplate the exile of an all-Ireland republic. And it offers Nationalists a very diluted possibility of one equally distant day achieving an exodus from British rule. Meanwhile, there's a lot of wrestling to be getting on with.

Archive | Ship of Fools Central