No going back to the violence

Northern Ireland's peace looks shaky right now. But John Hume is confident, as he tells Jack O'Sullivan

"There are 150 people walking the streets of Northern Ireland today," John Hume says, "who in any previous year would be dead by now." Eleven months into the IRA's ceasefire, this statistic reflects the achievement of a politician who can justifiably claim much of the credit for silencing the guns.

Hume, leader of the predominantly Catholic Social Democratic and Labour Party, was the catalyst for change. He held secret talks in 1993 with Gerry Adams that convinced the Sinn Fein president the armed struggle was an outdated strategy. His influence on the sceptical Dublin and London governments persuaded them to develop thinking that eventually emerged as the 1993 Downing Street Declaration and the Framework Documents published in February this year.

Hume's contribution to the peace springs partly from his untiring advocacy of non-violence, respected across the political spectrum. But his skill as a political theorist has been crucial. Like O'Connell and Parnell, the giants of Irish nationalism, he has revolutionised thinking, winning over both his compatriots and the British government.

He calls himself a nationalist, but that mainly denotes his ethnicity and religion. His philosophy is extraordinary, in that it does not revolve around the nation state. "A lot of trouble in the world has been created by the errors of this type of state and belief in its permanence. People do not seem to realise that it is only a point of evolution. Indeed, history may judge it as the worst form of political organisation, that led to two world wars and imperialism. It is based on two problematic concepts, territory and feelings of superiority of one people over another. In Ireland, the nationalist mindset was a territorial mindset. But we have changed. Our position now is that people have been divided, not a territory. We need change to heal that division."

So how does he appraise nearly a year's peace? He looks exhausted. Chain- smoking, battle-fatigued, about to begin a fortnight's break in Provence, he seems to feel personally responsible for holding together a peace that is so closely identified with him. "Some people do not realise that politicians are human beings. We and our families have been placed under enormous strain and stress."

His feelings are mixed about the way events have turned out: joy at the lives saved, frustration at the slowness of political change. "It has been a major relief to all sections of the community that the killings have stopped. Young people under 30 years of age had known nothing else in their lives other than violence, soldiers on the streets, perpetual searches. Now their lives are more tranquil and they are seeing normality. That has created enormous benefits."

And he is convinced that the ceasefire really is permanent. He states this belief without qualification, as though by its repeated assertion, by sheer force of his own will, it will be true. "I now believe that the violence is over because not only have I lived with it for 25 years, but I have also experienced it directly, with major attacks on my home and being perpetually warned that I was on the top of an assassination hit list. Worse, people you have known personally were killed. Let's not forget that one in 500 people in Northern Ireland have lost their lives in the conflict and one in 50 have been maimed or injured. There is hardly a person in Northern Ireland who does not know someone hurt by the violence. No one would take us back to the last 25 years."

But politics have not moved on as quickly as he would have hoped. "Tragically and unfortunately for us, this breakthrough coincided with squabbling in the Conservative Party. Had there been a strong government in London, peace would have moved on faster. I believe that from day one, John Major has put the question of peace in Ireland at the top of his agenda. The problem is that certain people do not want him to succeed at anything."

He condemns the failure to establish all-party talks. "The only precondition for fully including Sinn Fein in talks was always a total and absolute cessation of violence. Now the British government has introduced a fresh precondition - decommissioning weapons. By bringing that up, people have shown that they do not understand the psyche of the situation. No one is going to be seen surrendering in that way."

But the long-term problem in the Hume plan to normalise Ulster has been the unwillingness of mainstream Unionist politicians to go along with his dream. "The loyalist paramilitaries have been very constructive and I have no doubt that they would want to see all-party talks as soon as possible," he says. "I would have thought that the enormous goodwill of Protestants would also have been translated into political leadership by the Ulster Unionist Party. But it does appear - and it is the view of some commentators - that they have been distracted by internal battles over who will take over the leadership from James Molyneaux.

"We need a Unionist de Klerk, who can get over the siege mentality. The question the Unionists must ask themselves is: do they want agreement or do they want victory?"

Here, the limitations of John Hume begin to become apparent. He is a great reformer of Irish nationalism, capable of understanding and turning around even entrenched thinking in the IRA. And he knows how to strike a deal with a British prime minister. But he does not hold a key to unlock the Unionist heart. Indeed, in taking up a largely uncritical position towards Sinn Fein, he has raised Unionist suspicions and made political accommodation in the centre more difficult. Asked about suggestions that his party might agree to a pact with Sinn Fein over contesting one or two parliamentary seats, he said the subject had not been raised but it would certainly come up as the general election grew closer. Any such deal would damage Hume's relations with the Unionist community.

On Unionism, Hume seems to speak more in hope than expectation. Reflecting on last month's riots in Portadown over the rights of Orange marchers to parade though nationalist areas, he said: "I look forward to the time when days like 12 July look more like the Mardi Gras in New Orleans or St Patrick's Day, which is seen as a celebration but not as a threat to other communities."

The desire for peace was meant to push both communities into this new era of toleration, mutual respect and compromise. Hume had in mind the transformation that took place in Europe after the war. "The European Union is the greatest example of conflict resolution. What other conflict has there been that has left 35 million dead but led the main countries involved to live in peace? Yet, within the European Union, the diversity of European people is still there. The English are still English, the French still French."

Hume is not prepared, in advance of round-table talks, to disclose details of his vision for a new Northern Ireland. But it would certainly have a strong European dimension, with the emphasis on ensuring agreement. He highlights his own council in Londonderry, where the SDLP has a majority of the seats. "We are putting into practice our belief in diversity. We provide the mayor only every other year. We could hold all the offices but we don't. Committee chairs are taken by other parties.

"It is absolutely essential that we establish a framework which allows both of our traditions to work together, spilling sweat rather than blood. The objective we must seek is agreement. That does not disregard anyone, but it challenges everyone."

This is an ambition that few could fault. Yet by moving so far politically to accommodate Sinn Fein, Hume has jeopardised efforts to establish common ground between moderate nationalism and Unionism. In making peace, he may inadvertently have made a long-term settlement harder to achieve.