Ian Paisley: Can the Big Man say 'Yes'?

So how on earth is Liam Neeson going to get some balance into his portrayal of the Rev Ian Paisley, Ulster's larger-than-life Protestant patriarch, if the planned biopic materialises? It is true that a pragmatic new Paisley has suddenly appeared. It is true also that, tomorrow in Belfast, he may well indicate that he will go into government with Irish republicans, either immediately or shortly.

That would give Neeson scope for a dramatic scene in which the Old Testament preacher morphs into a less stern New Testament figure, declaring that the moment has come for the loyalist lamb to lie down with the republican lion.

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The problem for an actor is how to get some light and shade into all those past decades when Paisley, now 80, flatly and unremittingly opposed cooperation, modernisation, accommodation and reconciliation.

The charges levelled against him by his many enemies is that he has been a powerful force for divisiveness, fostering disharmony and revelling in conflict. The accusation, in short, is that he helped both to start and to keep the troubles going.

He broke the political hearts of many British ministers by helping to scuttle their efforts to make political progress. In their memoirs he is variously described as hell-bent on destroying peace efforts, using the language of war, being a demagogue and a wrecker, a poisonous bigot, a wild rabblerouser and an oafish bully.

George Mitchell, the gentlemanly American ex-Senator brought in to chair political talks, said of him: "I was accustomed to rough and tumble political debate but I'd never experienced anything like this."

But Paisley was always utterly unchastened by any and all such criticism. He has never been in the business of winning friends and influencing people, apart from the Ulster Protestant population.

Born in 1926, Ian Richard Kyle Paisley was the son of a Baptist preacher who ordained him as a minister. Later he set up his own denomination, the Free Presbyterian Church, regarding mainstream Presbyterianism as being too soft on Catholicism.

In the 1960s he mounted dozens of street demonstrations and counter-demonstrations, opposing the Catholic civil rights movement with showmanship and brinkmanship.

One of scores of stunts was a rally objecting to the lowering of the Union flag at Belfast City Hall to mark the death of Pope John XXIII in 1963. He denounced "the lying eulogies now being paid to the Roman Antichrist".

Dismissed in those early days as a pantomime demon and briefly imprisoned twice, he was nonetheless to enter mainstream unionist politics with the formation of his own political party, the Democratic Unionists.

Over the years it registered a respectable vote but seemed destined to remain in perpetual second place to the larger Ulster Unionist party. He occasionally returned to the streets, at one stage opposing homosexual law reform with a campaign entitled "Save Ulster from Sodomy".

He also flirted with loyalism's darker elements, several times cooperating with paramilitary groups and with shadowy organisations which staged theatrical rallies attended by uniformed men. While these were much-condemned he always remained on the right side of the law.

His opponents have acknowledged that he is a fascinating, multi-dimensional person. His tongue can be rough - he once prayed, with evident success, to be given a tongue "as rough as an old cow" - but he can be personally charming.

Robin Eames, who as the former head of the Church of Ireland was no religious bedfellow, has said he views him as "the raw face of imprisoned and uncertain Unionism". Yet he also says Paisley is "a warm, generous and thoughtful man".

In Parliament he represents the Co Antrim town of Ballymena, known as the buckle on the Bible belt, but everyone says he gives Catholics the same constituency service as Protestants. (Liam Neeson, incidentally, is a Ballymena Catholic.)

A problem others have dealing with him is that there are about six Ian Paisleys and no one ever knows which one is going to turn up. He can be affable and amusing, or confrontational and rude; sometimes he can be placid, at other times excitable. But he does, people say, respect confidences and he keeps his word. He enjoys his food but, it hardly needs saying, does not smoke or drink. He calls alcohol "the devil's buttermilk".

A devoted family man, he gathers its members around him to make important decisions. Eileen, his wife of 50 years who was last year elevated to the House of Lords, is a formidable woman who, he says, is the only person allowed to tell him off. Daughter Rhonda is an interesting artist while a son, Kyle, is a Free Presbyterian minister in Suffolk. Another son, Ian Jnr, is his father's political aide and looks destined to replace him at Westminster.

Paisley's has been a workaholic life, for in addition to almost four decades in the Commons he spent a quarter-century as a Member of the European Parliament and has always been head of both his party and his church. His energy is legendary.

A few years ago he boasted: "I can work any man politically off his feet, and I would go to bed refreshed and he would go to bed knackered." Not long after, however, his health deteriorated, making it seem as though he had tempted fate, but he has staged a remarkable recovery.

He has been around for so long that he has watched his three principal enemies - the IRA, Ulster Unionist party and the Vatican - go into decline. The IRA has departed the scene, the Ulster Unionists are in an apparently terminal spin and even the power of the Catholic church is not what it was. A glance at the Paisley website confirms, however, that he still views the Pope as the Antichrist and Rome as the Mother of Harlots.

But while his religious fundamentalism remains intact he has been pragmatic about the peace process even as he opposed it at every turn. He allowed party members to accept minor office in previous administrations but what is on offer now goes far beyond that.

If he agrees to do the deal, he will be First Minister, with party members heading four of the 10 departments. The peace process has thrown up many extraordinary turns of events but a Paisley-Sinn Fein coalition would surely top them all. The man who has spent a lifetime trenchantly opposing partnership and republicanism would have ex-IRA commander Martin McGuinness as his deputy in a powersharing arrangement.

But Liam Neeson need not bother to rehearse a Paisley-McGuinness embrace, for the Big Man has made it clear that he will not even be speaking to the republican, deputy or not. A new government will, they say, be "a battle a day". But Neeson will surely have a field day expressing the Paisley body language as he takes office. His challenge will be to convey something of the thought processes of the lifelong nonconformist suddenly elevated to the pinnacle of the establishment.