Consociational Theory: McGarry and O’Leary and the Northern Ireland conflict 0203962567, 9780415429139, 9780203962565

Citation preview

Power-sharing theory develops from its constructive as well as its negative critics. This volume represents a wonderful continuation of the debate about consociational (power-sharing) theory. This theory had already undergone significant changes by some of the scholars who reformulated it in political science in the 1960s and the 1970s – including Gerhard Lehmbruch, Jürg Steiner, Luc Huyse, and myself. I am very pleased that this superb new book, focused on the work of John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, continues to debate highly significant adjustments and refinements. It is a splendid milestone in the development of consociational theory. (Arend Lijphart, Research Professor of Political Science, University of California, San Diego) Rupert Taylor has put together a set of essays that crystallize the controversies surrounding consociationalism. This is bound to be an important and controversial collection. (Donald L. Horowitz, James B. Duke Professor of Law and Political Science, Duke University) A timely, stimulating, and well-written exchange. Consociational Theory offers an illuminating debate about the value of power sharing as the answer to Northern Ireland’s divisions, and, more broadly, to other societies entertaining power sharing as a solution to deep divisions. It should be read by lay readers and specialists alike. (Michael MacDonald, Professor of Political Science, Williams College, Massachusetts)

Consociational Theory

Consociational power sharing is increasingly gaining ground, right around the world, as a means for resolving political conflict in divided societies. In this volume, edited by Rupert Taylor, nineteen internationally-respected scholars engage in a lively debate about the merits of the theory underlying this approach. The volume focuses specifically on one of the leading cases under the global spotlight, the Northern Ireland conflict, and brings together the most prominent proponents and opponents of consociationalism. Northern Ireland’s transition from war to peace is seen by consociationalists as flowing from the historic Belfast Agreement of 1998, and specifically from the Agreement’s consociational framework. The Northern Ireland case is marketed by consociationalists as representing best practice, and as providing a template for ending conflicts in other parts of the world. However, as this volume interrogates, on what grounds, and to what extent, can such a positive reading be upheld? Taken as a whole, this volume, structured as a symposium around the highly-influential argument of John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, offers comparative, engaging, and critical insight into how political theory can contribute to the creation of a better world. Consociational Theory is an important text for anyone with an interest in political theory, conflict resolution in divided societies, or Irish politics. Rupert Taylor is Associate Professor of Politics at the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, South Africa.

Routledge research in comparative politics

1 Democracy and Post-Communism Political change in the post-communist world Graeme Gill 2 Sub-State Nationalism A comparative analysis of institutional design Edited by Helena Catt and Michael Murphy 3 Reward for High Public Office Asian and Pacific Rim States Edited by Christopher Hood and B. Guy Peters 4 Social Democracy and Labour Market Policy Developments in Britain and Germany Knut Roder 5 Democratic Revolutions Asia and Eastern Europe Mark R. Thompson 6 Democratization A comparative analysis of 170 countries Tatu Vanhanen

7 Determinants of the Death Penalty A comparative study of the world Carsten Anckar 8 How Political Parties Respond to Voters Interest aggregation revisited Edited by Kay Lawson and Thomas Poguntke 9 Women, Quotas and Politics Edited by Drude Dahlerup 10 Citizenship and Ethnic Conflict Challenging the nation-state Haldun Gülalp 11 The Politics of Women’s Interests New comparative and international perspectives Edited by Louise Chappell and Lisa Hill 12 Political Disaffection in Contemporary Democracies Social capital, institutions and politics Edited by Mariano Torcal and José Ramón Montero

13 Representing Women in Parliament A comparative study Edited by Marian Sawer, Manon Tremblay and Linda Trimble 14 Democracy and Political Culture in Eastern Europe Edited by Hans-Dieter Klingemann, Dieter Fuchs and Jan Zielonka 15 Social Capital and Associations in European Democracies A comparative analysis Edited by William A. Maloney and Sigrid Roßteutscher 16 Citizenship and Involvement in European Democracies A comparative analysis Edited by Jan van Deth, José Ramón Montero and Anders Westholm 17 The Politics of Foundations A comparative analysis Edited by Helmut K. Anheier and Siobhan Daly

18 Party Policy in Modern Democracies Kenneth Benoit and Michael Laver 19 Semi-Presidentialism Outside Europe A comparative study Edited by Robert Elgie and Sophia Moestrup 20 Comparative Politics The principal-agent perspective Jan-Erik Lane 21 The Political Power of Business Structure and information in public policymaking Patrick Bernhagen 22 Women’s Movements Flourishing or in abeyance? Edited by Marian Sawer and Sandra Grey 23 Consociational Theory McGarry and O’Leary and the Northern Ireland conflict Edited by Rupert Taylor

Consociational Theory McGarry and O’Leary and the Northern Ireland conflict

Edited by Rupert Taylor

First published 2009 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge 270 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2009. To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.

© 2009 Editorial and selected matter: Rupert Taylor; individual chapters: the contributors All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Consociational theory: McGarry & O’Leary and the Northern Ireland conflict / edited by Rupert Taylor. p. cm. – (Routledge research in comparative politics; 23) Includes index. 1. Conflict management–Case studies–Congresses. 2. Political violence– Prevention–Case studies–Congresses. 3. Ethnic conflict–Prevention–Case studies–Congresses. 4. O'Leary, Brendan. Northern Ireland conflict– Congresses. 5. Northern Ireland–Politics and government–1969–1994– Congresses. 6. Great Britain. Treaties, etc. Ireland, 1998 Apr. 10– Congresses. I. Taylor, Rupert, 1958– JC328.6.C665 2006 941.60824–dc22 2008035732 ISBN 0-203-96256-7 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 13: 978-0-415-42913-9 (hbk) ISBN 13: 978-0-203-96256-5 (ebk)

Contents

List of illustrations List of abbreviations List of contributors Introduction: the promise of consociational theory

xi xii xiii 1

RUPERT TAYLOR

PART I

Argument

13

1

15

Power shared after the deaths of thousands JOHN MCGARRY AND BRENDAN O’LEARY

PART II

Commentaries 2

Recognition, equality, difference: achieving democracy in Northern Ireland

85

87

SHANE O’NEILL

3

Consociationalism and the wider peace process

99

ADRIAN GUELKE

4

Peace by design? Towards “complex power sharing”

110

STEFAN WOLFF

5

Implementing consociation in Northern Ireland

122

JOHN COAKLEY

6

Ethnic party competition and the dynamics of power sharing in Northern Ireland PAUL MITCHELL AND GEOFFREY EVANS

146

x

Contents

7

Consociationalism and the creation of a shared future for Northern Ireland

165

STEPHEN FARRY

8

Consociational government: inside the Northern Ireland Executive 180 RICK WILFORD

9

In search of the consociational “spirit of accommodation”

196

JÜRG STEINER

10 A culture of power sharing

206

MICHAEL KERR

11 From consociationalism to interculturalism

221

ROBIN WILSON

12 Squaring some vicious circles: transforming the political in Northern Ireland

237

JOHN CASH

13 Sunningdale for slow learners? Towards a complexity paradigm

252

ADRIAN LITTLE

14 Progressive integration (and accommodation, too)

264

IAN O’FLYNN

15 Ways of seeing? Consociationalism and constitutional law theory

279

JOHN MORISON

16 Debating the Agreement: beyond a communalist dynamic?

295

LIAM O’DOWD

17 The injustice of a consociational solution to the Northern Ireland problem

309

RUPERT TAYLOR

PART III

Response

331

18 Under friendly and less-friendly fire

333

JOHN MCGARRY AND BRENDAN O’LEARY

Index

389

Illustrations

Tables 0.1 Strong consociational cases (post-World War I) 0.2 Scholarly publications focused on strong consociational cases 1.1 Conflict-related deaths in Northern Ireland (victims and alleged perpetrators), 1998 to March 2007 5.1 Simulated election outcomes for proportional systems, Northern Ireland, 1973–2007 5.2 Simulated election outcomes for plurality and alternative vote systems, Northern Ireland, 1973–2007 5.3 Application of d’Hondt and Sainte-Laguë formulas for the Northern Ireland Executive, 2007 6.1 Electoral fortunes by period, 1973–2007 6.2 Change in attitudes to some main features of the Agreement between the first (1998) and second (2003) Assembly elections 11.1 Shifting attitudes to devolution after St Andrews 17.1 Assembly election results, seats held 1998–2007 18.1 Number of shootings and assaults, 2003–8

6 8 52 128 133 141 154 161 234 322 370

Figures 6.1 Electoral support in Northern Ireland, 1970–2007 17.1 Distribution of population by affluence/deprivation (2001)

156 319

Abbreviations

APNI AV BIC DUP DFM EU FM IRA JUG MLA MP NIO NSMC OFMDFM PfP PR PSNI SDLP SF STV UDA UDP UKUP UUP

Alliance Party of Northern Ireland alternative vote British–Irish Council Democratic Unionist Party Deputy First Minister European Union First Minister Irish Republican Army joined-up government member of legislative assembly (Northern Ireland) member of parliament (Westminster) Northern Ireland Office North–South Ministerial Council Office of First Minister and Deputy First Minister Programme for Government proportional representation Police Service of Northern Ireland Social Democratic and Labour Party Sinn Féin single transferable vote Ulster Defence Association Ulster Democratic Party United Kingdom Unionist Party Ulster Unionist Party

Contributors

John Cash is Deputy Director of the Ashworth Program in Social Theory at the University of Melbourne and an editor of the Journal of Postcolonial Studies. His publications include Identity, Ideology and Conflict: The Structuration of Politics in Northern Ireland (1996, Cambridge University Press) and “Troubled times: Changing the political subject in Northern Ireland,” in V. Walkerdine (ed.) Challenging Subjects (2002, Palgrave). John Coakley is Director of the Institute for British-Irish Studies, School of Politics and International Relations, University College Dublin. He has recently edited or co-edited The Territorial Management of Ethnic Conflict (2003, Frank Cass, 2nd edn), Renovation or Revolution? New Territorial Politics in Ireland and the United Kingdom (2005, UCD Press), and Crossing the Border: New Relationships between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland (2007, Irish Academic Press). Geoffrey Evans is Official Fellow in Politics, Nuffield College, Oxford, Professor of the Sociology of Politics and Director, Centre for Research Methods in the Social Sciences, University of Oxford. He has published widely in political science and sociology, including “Consociationalism and the evolution of political cleavages in Northern Ireland, 1989–2004,” British Journal of Political Science, 2008 (with J. Tilley and C. Mitchell). Stephen Farry is an Alliance Party member of the Northern Ireland Assembly. He is a former Senior Fellow at the United States Institute of Peace. He holds a PhD in International Relations from Queen’s University Belfast and is author of Northern Ireland: Prospects for Progress in 2006? (2006, United States Institute of Peace). Adrian Guelke is Professor of Comparative Politics and Director of the Centre for the Study of Ethnic Conflict at Queen’s University Belfast. His publications include Terrorism and Global Disorder (2006, I. B. Tauris), Rethinking the Rise and Fall of Apartheid (2005, Palgrave), and the co-edited A Farewell to Arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement (2006, Manchester University Press, 2nd edn).

xiv Contributors Michael Kerr is Lecturer in Middle Eastern Studies in the Middle East and Mediterranean Studies Programme at King’s College London. His books Imposing Power-Sharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon and Transforming Unionism: David Trimble and the 2005 General Election were published by Irish Academic Press in 2005. Adrian Little is Associate Professor and Reader in Political Theory at the University of Melbourne, Australia. He is the author of several books including Democracy and Northern Ireland: Beyond the Liberal Paradigm? (2004, Palgrave) and, most recently, Democratic Piety: Complexity, Conflict and Violence (2008, Edinburgh University Press). John McGarry is Professor of Political Studies and Canada Research Chair in Nationalism and Democracy at Queen’s University, Canada. He is currently serving (2008–9) as Senior Advisor on Power Sharing to the United Nations (Mediation Support Unit, Department of Political Affairs). He is the co-author, with B. O’Leary, of The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements (2004, Oxford University Press), The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland (1996, The Athlone Press, 2nd edn), and Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images (1995, Blackwell). Paul Mitchell teaches political science and research methods at the London School of Economics. His research currently focuses on elections, party competition, and institutional design in both established democracies and divided societies. His most recent book (edited with M. Gallagher) is The Politics of Electoral Systems (2008, Oxford University Press). John Morison is Professor of Jurisprudence in the School of Law at Queen’s University Belfast. He has published extensively in the areas of public law, constitutional theory, and democracy. His most recent book is the co-edited volume Judges, Transition, and Human Rights (with K. McEvoy and G. Anthony) (2007, Oxford University Press). Liam O’Dowd is Professor of Sociology and Director of the Centre for International Borders Research (CIBR) at Queen’s University Belfast. His most recent work includes the co-edited volume (with J. Coakley) Crossing the Border: New Relationships between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland (2007, Irish Academic Press) and “Escaping the cage of ethno-national conflict in Northern Ireland: The importance of transnational networks,” Ethnopolitics, 2008 (with C. McCall). Ian O’Flynn is Lecturer in Political Theory, Newcastle University, UK. He is the author of Deliberative Democracy in Divided Societies (2006, Edinburgh University Press) and has published scholarly articles in journals such as the British Journal of Political Science, CRISPP, and Ethnicities. Brendan O’Leary is Lauder Professor of Political Science and Director of the Penn Program in Ethnic Conflict at the University of Pennsylvania, USA.

Contributors

xv

He is the author, co-author, editor, or co-editor of 16 books, including seven on Northern Ireland (six with J. McGarry). He has been a constitutional advisor for governments, political parties, the European Union, and the United Nations. He has advised in and on Northern Ireland, Somalia, Kwa-Zulu Natal, Nepal, and the Kurdistan Region of Iraq. Shane O’Neill is Professor of Political Theory at Queen’s University Belfast. He is author of Impartiality in Context: Grounding Justice in a Pluralist World (1997, State University of New York Press), and co-editor of Reconstituting Social Criticism: Political Morality in an Age of Scepticism (1999, Palgrave Macmillan) and Recognition, Equality and Democracy (2008, Routledge). Jürg Steiner is Professor Emeritus at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and the University of Bern. He has held the Swiss Chair at the European University Institute in Florence. His recent books are Deliberative Politics in Action (with A. Bächtiger, M. Spörndli, and M. R. Steenbergen) (2004, Cambridge University Press) and European Democracies (with M. Crepaz) (2009, Longman, 6th edn). Rupert Taylor is Associate Professor of Politics at the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg, South Africa. He is editor of Creating a Better World: Interpreting Global Civil Society (2004, Kumarian), and has written extensively on South African politics as well as the Northern Ireland conflict in such journals as Telos, Race & Class, African Affairs, and The Political Quarterly. Rick Wilford is Professor of Politics at Queen’s University Belfast and, since 1999, he has, with R. Wilson, co-coordinated the Northern Ireland “Monitoring Devolution” team under the aegis of the Constitution Unit, University College London. He has written extensively on Northern Ireland politics including most recently “St Andrews: The long Good Friday Agreement,” in J. Bradbury (ed.) Devolution, Regionalism and Regional Development (2008, Routledge). Robin Wilson is co-leader with R. Wilford of the Northern Ireland research team in a UK-wide devolution-monitoring project, coordinated by University College London, and co-author with R. Wilford and K. Claussen of Power to the People? Assessing Democracy in Northern Ireland (2007, TASC). Stefan Wolff is Professor of Political Science and Director of the Centre for International Crisis Management and Conflict Resolution at the University of Nottingham in England, UK. He is the founding editor of the Journal Ethnopolitics and author of Ethnic Conflict: A Global Perspective (2007, Oxford University Press).

Introduction The promise of consociational theory Rupert Taylor

Introduction Consociational theory is an empirically grounded normative theory that – through promoting power sharing of a specific kind – promises a democratic solution to societies confronted by durable ethnic division and political conflict. Now some forty years of age, consociationalism represents one of the strongest, widely discussed, and influential research programmes in the field of comparative politics.1 It has been formulated and developed by some of the world’s leading political scientists – most notably Arend Lijphart.2 Today, it is generally accepted that consociationalism is “the dominant model of managing ethnically divided societies,”3 and, as René Lemarchand asserts, 1

2

3

Consociationalism has generated a huge literature and has been advanced, and contested, in many top-ranking political science journals; most notably, World Politics, Comparative Politics, and the British Journal of Political Science. Other prominent contributory scholars include Hans Daalder, Luc Huyse, Gerhard Lehmbruch, Val Lorwin, Kenneth McRae, Sid Noel, Eric Nordlinger, G. Bingham Powell, Jürg Steiner, and Nobel laureate Sir Arthur Lewis. See, for example, H. Daalder (1971) “On building consociational nations: The cases of The Netherlands and Switzerland,” International Social Science Journal 23(3), 355–70; L. Huyse (1970) Passiviteit, Pacificatieen verzuiling in de Belgische politiek, Antwerpen, Standaard; L. Huyse (1984) “Pillarization reconsidered,” Acta Politica 19(1), 145–58; G. Lehmbruch (1967) Proporzdemokratie: Politisches System und Politische Kultur in der Schweiz und in Oesterreich, Tübingen, Mohr; G. Lehmbruch (1975) “Consociational democracy in the international system,” European Journal of Political Research 3(4), 377–91; V. Lorwin (1971) “Segmented pluralism: Ideological cleavages and political cohesion in the smaller European democracies,” Comparative Politics 3(2), 141– 75; K. D. McRae (1984) Conflict and Compromise in Multilingual Societies, Waterloo, ON, Wilfrid Laurier University Press; S. J. R. Noel (1993) “Canadian responses to ethnic conflict: Consociationalism, federalism and control,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) The Politics of Ethnic Conflict-Regulation, London, Routledge, pp. 41–61; E. A. Nordlinger (1972) Conflict Regulation in Divided Societies, Harvard Studies in International Affairs, no. 29, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; G. Bingham Powell Jr. (1970) Social Fragmentation and Political Hostility: An Austrian Case-Study, Stanford, CA, Stanford University Press; J. Steiner (1974) Amicable Agreement versus Majority Rule, Chapel Hill, NC, University Press of North Carolina; and W. A. Lewis (1965) Politics in West Africa, London, Allen and Unwin. R. Aitken (2007) “Cementing divisions? An assessment of the impact of international interventions and peace-building policies on ethnic identities and divisions,” Policy Studies 28(3), 260.

2

Rupert Taylor

“few theories have had a more enduring impact on the thinking of analysts and practitioners of democratic governance than the consociational model.”4 For many years, within and beyond the academy, there has been a widespread view that “the conceptual structure of contemporary political theory is shaky and confused,”5 that political science suffers from “a shortage of concrete, complete and unquestionably useful findings.”6 John Gerring and Joshua Yesnowitz put this most starkly when they write: “A considerable quantity of contemporary work in political science simply does not seem to matter very much.”7 Consociational theory runs counter to this trend; it is a theory that matters. Consociational scholars have promoted a fusion of rigorous empirical research, original theoretical design, and liberal-democratic aspiration that have made it one of the most “vibrant and appealing” theories in contemporary political science.8 Of particular import, consociational theory has directly engaged with the issue central to the very vocation of political science: namely that of establishing a valid relationship between empirical enquiry and normative political theory.9 For, contrary to much mainstream political science rooted in the positivist tradition, consociationalists do not feel professionally uncomfortable in linking empirical theory to normative theory.10 Indeed, Lijphart’s key work, Democracy in Plural Societies, boldly pronounced that “the argument that consociational democracy can serve as a normative model challenges the pervasively pessimistic mood of our times and is deliberately unconventional.”11

From empirical to normative theory Consociational theory has evolved in a two-stage process: first as description, then as prescription. Befitting a theory that originated in the intellectual milieu of the post-behavioural revolution in American political science, it 4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

R. Lemarchand (2007) “Consociationalism and power sharing in Africa: Rwanda, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo,” African Affairs 106(422), 1. T. A. Spragens, Jr. (1973) The Dilemma of Contemporary Political Theory: Toward a PostBehavioral Science of Politics, New York, Dunellen, p. 1. D. M. Ricci (1984) The Tragedy of Political Science: Politics, Scholarship, and Democracy, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press, p. 197. J. Gerring and J. Yesnowitz (2006) “A normative turn in political science?” Polity 38(1), 104. D. D. Laitin (1987) “Review article. South Africa: Myths, and democratic reform,” World Politics 39(2), 264. M. Stears (2005) “The vocation of political theory: Principles, empirical inquiry and the politics of opportunity,” European Journal of Political Theory 4(4), 325–50. Consider, for example, G. L. Munck and R. Snyder (eds) (2007) Passion, Craft, and Method in Comparative Politics, Baltimore, MD, The Johns Hopkins University Press. A. Lijphart (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press, p. 3.

Introduction

3

draws on and develops a rich but specific mix of theories and methods that firmly places it at the “messy” and “eclectic” centre of comparative politics.12 Consociationalism was initially best formulated by Lijphart in a now widely cited 1969 article in World Politics,13 where it was presented “as an empirical theory of comparative politics” to explain “the political stability of a number of smaller European democracies.”14 It was conceived as a reply to Gabriel Almond’s “economically formulated” typology of democratic political systems that was largely centred on the Anglo-American and Continental European forms of democracy.15 This typology, which was theoretically grounded in both systems theory and pluralist theory, primarily advanced that the “political stability” of particular countries was tied to the positive force of normative integration and cross-cutting social cleavages; for, importantly, the latter “entails cross-pressures that make for moderate attitudes and actions.”16 Lijphart’s position, “as a committed positivist social scientist,”17 was that this did not explain the presence of democratic stability where cross-cutting cleavages were absent as in the four cases of Austria, Belgium, Switzerland, and – his homeland – The Netherlands. It was precisely from such cases that consociationalism was derived; Lijphart declared that “these deviant cases of fragmented but stable democracies will be called ‘consociational democracies.’”18 Through empirical generalization from these four “deviant” cases, Lijphart sought to understand how democratic stability was maintained and operated in societies marked by high degrees of social heterogeneity (pluralism); societies that were seen, with reference to plural society theory, to constitute “plural societies.” The “basic explanatory element” was found to be “that political elites may … make deliberate efforts to counteract the immobilizing and unstabilizing effects of cultural fragmentation.”19 Alongside, and further to, the political elites of competing blocs coming together in some kind of powersharing coalition to avoid sectarian conflict (as through past Austrian cabinets or the Swiss Federal Council), Lijphart identified institutional structures with entrenched guarantees for minority group inclusion that include provision for segmental autonomy (via granting specific powers of self-determination), 12

13

14 15

16 17 18 19

A. Kohli, P. Evan, P. J. Katzenstein, A. Przeworski, S. H. Rudolph, J. C. Scott, and T. Skocpol (1995) “The role of theory in comparative politics: A symposium,” World Politics 48(1), 1–49. A. Lijphart (1969) “Consociational democracy,” World Politics 21(2), 207–25. Also see Lijphart’s earlier (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 1. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 14; G. A. Almond (1956) “Comparative political systems,” Journal of Politics 18(3), 391–409. It is noteworthy that Lijphart’s own doctoral dissertation committee was chaired by Almond. Lijphart, “Consociational democracy,” p. 208; Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 75. I. S. Lustick (1997) “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” World Politics 50(1), 93. Lijphart, “Consociational democracy,” p. 211. Lijphart, “Consociational democracy,” p. 212.

4

Rupert Taylor

mutual veto rights, and a commitment to proportionality in electoral processes and distributive policies, as being constitutive of consociational democracy.20 At this point in the theory’s development, the normative implications – although evident – were “not yet explored.”21 The promising insight to be taken forward was straightforward: namely that elite collaboration to promote consociationally structured political institutions could, through power sharing, achieve democratic stability for a society otherwise “doomed to immobilism and instability due to the lack of cross-cutting cleavages.”22 Indeed, over the 1970s, in what marked “an epistemological shift,”23 Lijphart turned to explore and develop the prescriptive potential of consociational democracy (as an ideal type); advocating what he termed “consociational engineering” for “deeply divided” societies. This normative turn was most clearly signalled with the publication of Democracy in Plural Societies in 1977. In this work, Lijphart, drawing far more explicitly on plural society theory’s reading of the primacy and durability of mutually exclusive ethnic group cleavages,24 argued that the strength of certain collective identities, especially those based on ethnicity,25 had to be explicitly recognized and used as “basic building blocks,”26 for engineering a stable political system.27 It was argued that a potential solution promoted on these grounds represented a far more realistic democratic option for deeply divided societies than majoritarian rule or any integrationist approach seeking to encourage people to move beyond ethnic group politics. In short, as normative theory, consociationalism promises to create democratic stability where previously all hope for it was absent. For consociationalists, it then became a matter of empirically investigating and establishing through comparative case-study analysis the probable conditions under which, on the basis of past cases, consociationalism has a reasonable chance of being successfully implemented and sustained. This research programme is well exemplified by Lijphart’s own 1985 study on Power-Sharing in South Africa, a highly-influential work, which presented – through reference to Belgium, Cyprus, Lebanon, Malaysia, and Switzerland – a model case analysis of the prospects of a consociationally 20 21

22 23

24

25

26 27

This is best formulated in Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies. M. Bogaards (2000) “The uneasy relationship between empirical and normative types in consociational theory,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 12(4), 401. Bogaards, “The uneasy relationship,” p. 401. Lustick, “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” p. 108; consociational theory moved from seeking explanation of what is, to what ought to be. The work of such scholars as M. G. Smith, Leo A. Despres, Pierre van den Berghe, Harry Hoetink, and Leo Kuper fall within the plural society tradition. B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal and Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, p. 8. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 45. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 88.

Introduction

5

engineered alternative to apartheid.28 Through comparative analysis of a parsimonious number of predisposing factors such as the balance of power and traditions of elite accommodation,29 Lijphart reached a favourable proconsociational conclusion, and urged political elites to follow his recommendations. In retrospect, though, Lijphart’s reading of South Africa can be seen to have run counter to the general tenor of democratic reform in that country.30 Elsewhere, however, consociationalism has demonstrated greater and longer-term practical relevance. It has come to have significant resonance and impact beyond the academy – in a fair number of cases, consociationalism has positively shaped the preferences and pragmatic behaviour of political elites in both constitution making and governance.31 Whilst the extent to which the “classic” consociational democracies – The Netherlands, Belgium, Austria, and Switzerland – are still consociational is contentious,32 the social-scientific literature suggests that consociational institutions and arrangements have, at one time or another, come seriously into play in over twenty other countries (in Europe and post-colonial Africa, Asia, and Latin America). Cases span from the Lebanese National Pact of 1943 to the Kenyan grand coalition arrangement laid down in the National Accord and Reconciliation Act of 2008 (see Table 0.1).33 Despite this impressive scope, it has to be acknowledged that consociationalism has not, as yet, fulfilled its promise. For chronologically, as reflected in Table 0.1, the period from 1980 to the mid-1990s witnessed a noticeable and sustained decline in the number of cases – with most cases having fallen subject to “discontinuations and interruptions,”34 largely for 28

29

30

31

32

33

34

A. Lijphart (1985) Power-Sharing in South Africa, Institute of International Studies, University of California, Berkeley. The other “favorable conditions for consociational democracy” cited in Democracy in Plural Societies are multiparty systems; size and consociational democracy; the structure of cleavages; crosscutting cleavages; overarching loyalties; representative party systems; and segmental isolation and federalism. R. Taylor (2008) “Ending apartheid: The relevance of consociationalism,” in G. Ben Porat (ed.) The Failure of the Middle East Peace Process? Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 97–110. A. Reynolds (ed.) (2002) The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management, and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press; U. Schneckener (2002) “Making power-sharing work: Lessons from success and failures in ethnic conflict regulation,” Journal of Peace Research 39(2), 203–28. To Andeweg, for example, The Netherlands, Belgium, and Austria are now “post-consociational”; R. B. Andeweg (2008) “Parliamentary opposition in post-consociational democracies: Austria, Belgium, and The Netherlands,” The Journal of Legislative Studies 14(1/2), 77–112. Two “classic” cases, Austria and The Netherlands, can be positively read: consociationalism ended because it promoted cross-cutting cleavages. Also worthy of consideration are the semi-consociational cases of Canada (since 1840) and Israel (as an intra-Jewish consociation since 1948). Consociational democracy is also relevant to the working of semi-confederal systems such as the European Union, as well as many “intermittent consociations” – states or regions (as in Spain) that are governed from time to time by multi-ethnic coalitions. R. B. Andeweg (2000) “Consociational democracy,” Annual Review of Political Science 3(1), 515.

6

Rupert Taylor

Table 0.1 Strong consociational cases (post-World War I) “Classic” cases

Past cases

Contemporary cases

Netherlands (1917–67) Belgium (1918–) Switzerland (1943–) Austria (1945–66) (Luxembourg) (Liechtenstein)

Lebanon (1943–75) India (1947–64) Netherlands Antilles (1950–85) Suriname (1950–85) Malaysia (1955–69) Nigeria (1957–66) Colombia (1958–74) Cyprus (1960–63) Fiji (1970–87) Northern Ireland (1973–74) Zimbabwe (1980–87) Czechoslovakia (1989–93) South Africa (1993–96)

Malaysia (1971–) South Tyrol (1972–) Lebanon (1989–) New wave Bosnia-Herzegovina (1995–) Burundi (1998–) Northern Ireland (1998–) Macedonia (2000–) Afghanistan (2004–) Iraq (2005–) Kenya (2008–)

Source: “Advanced Google Scholar” internet search using “consociation,” “consociational,” and “consociationalism” as keywords along with country (or countries) name in title of publications.

the worse. Africa, in particular, proved “a graveyard” for “consociational experiments,”35 and in country after country consociationalism was pushed off the political agenda. Lijphart, referring to the “classic” cases, placed “the high point of consociational development” in the late 1950s,36 and, indeed, at around this time eleven cases could be clearly identified, but as of 1986, there were only six strong cases. At that point in time it was hard to disagree with Sue Halpern who concluded with reference to what she termed the “consociational universe” that “the model of consociational democracy has not been deployed with much success.”37 Even as of a decade ago, the best that could be said for consociational politics was that here and there it ensured some measure of political stability (as in the Lebanon) and, in a few cases, helped create the preconditions for a non-consociational – yet democratic – outcome (as in South Africa between 1993 and 1996). In 1997 there were still only six strong cases, and it was just at this juncture that Ian Lustick openly declared in World Politics that consociationalism had lost focus and become a “degenerative” research programme.38

Consociational theory regenerated Theoretically, the problem was not so much, as Lustick sought to argue, that consociationalism had moved too far away from “good” scientific practice by evading “progressive iterations of testable and increasingly robust explanatory claims within a stable framework of presuppositions and 35 36 37

38

Lemarchand, “Consociationalism and power sharing in Africa,” p. 2. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 104. S. M. Halpern (1986) “The disorderly universe of consociational democracy,” West European Politics 9(2), 182. Lustick, “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” p. 113.

Introduction

7

definitions.”39 For surely the important counter argument is that consociational theory cannot be seriously evaluated to have any “goodness” in the first place if it is not explicitly tethered to normative concerns; after all, “social science is science for society’s sake.”40 If, following Marc Stears, the vocation of political theory requires a scholarly commitment to identify, in a scientific manner, “good principles and reasonable steps that may be made towards them,”41 to attack consociationalism for failing to live up to more narrow scientific principles is misguided. In any event, Lustick’s reading of consociationalism now seems premature; for the promise of consociationalism is far from broken. Consociational democracy has certainly moved away “from its empirical region of origin,”42 but contrary to Lijphart’s earlier assessment, the high point of consociational development – at least in terms of total cases – is now. Since 1997, the number of cases has doubled and seems destined to grow yet further. It is no exaggeration to talk, as in Table 0.1, of a “new wave” of consociation. These new cases are on the whole characterized by being cases of internationally driven intervention and should be seen as signalling a major regeneration of the consociational research programme. The new wave began with the Dayton Agreement that ended the 1992–95 war in Bosnia-Herzegovina. But although this is a prominent “consociational settlement,”43 it cannot – like the “past cases” – be seen to represent an out-and-out success story. Sven Gunnar Simonsen, for instance, has argued that “Bosnia today looks much like a failure.”44 Rather, it is the longerstanding case of Northern Ireland that rides the crest of this wave – or to use another metaphor, shines as the brightest star in the new consociational universe. Research on consociation in Northern Ireland now exceeds, by some significant margin, research on other consociational cases, even the four “classical” cases of consociational theory (see Table 0.2). The reason for the centrality of the Northern Ireland case is, as follows, not hard to explain. The question of when is a case a valid case has often been at issue in comparative politics,45 but few scholars have seriously doubted that the current settlement in Northern Ireland is consociational.46 Consociationalism 39 40 41 42 43

44

45

46

Lustick, “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” pp. 108–9. Gerring and Yesnowitz, “A normative turn in political science?” p. 112. Stears, “The vocation of political theory,” p. 331. Andeweg, “Consociational democracy,” p. 532. R. Belloni (2004) “Peacebuilding and consociational electoral engineering in Bosnia and Herzegovina,” International Peacekeeping 11(2), 334–53. S. G. Simonsen (2005) “Addressing ethnic divisions in post-conflict institution-building: Lessons from recent cases,” Security Dialogue 36(3), 304. See, for example, B. Barry (1979) “Political accommodation and consociational democracy,” British Journal of Political Science 5(4), 477–505. P. Wagner (2004) “Northern Ireland after the Good Friday Agreement: On the way to peace or conflict perpetuated?” Global Research and Information Network, www.grin.info. A notable exception is P. Dixon (2005) “Why the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland is not consociational,” Political Quarterly 76(3), 357–67.

8

Rupert Taylor

Table 0.2 Scholarly publications focused on strong consociational cases Case

Frequency

Northern Ireland South Africa Switzerland Belgium Lebanon The Netherlands Austria Malaysia Bosnia-Herzegovina

********************************* 33 ********************* 21 ********************* 21 ****************** 18 ****************** 18 ***************** 17 ************ 12 ******** 8 ***** 5

Source: “Advanced Google Scholar” internet search using “consociation,” “consociational,” and “consociationalism” as keywords along with country (or countries) name in title of publications. Note: “Classic” cases are given in italics.

played a highly influential and positive role in the framing of the Belfast Agreement signed on Good Friday, April 10, 1998, and its subsequent reinforcement in the St Andrews Agreement published on October 13, 2006. The Belfast Agreement advanced consociational power sharing through specific institutional structural design and aggregation mechanisms: requiring communal registration for Assembly members, certain cross-community thresholds for decision making, formal stipulations for a power-sharing executive, and a PR-STV (proportional representation with single transferable vote) electoral system.47 Against the initial odds, the Agreement has seen sporadic yet increasingly positive implementation. Coincidentally, consociational theory is as old as the Northern Ireland conflict: Lijphart’s The Politics of Accommodation appeared in the same year – 1968 – as the streets of Belfast and Derry saw the onset of the political violence known as “the Troubles.” For decades the six counties of Northern Ireland experienced deep and seemingly intractable political conflict between a Protestant majority and a Catholic minority: the former concerned to maintain the Union of Northern Ireland with Great Britain (unionists); the latter, in response to sectarian injustice, seeking a united Ireland (nationalists). Few scholars thought that consociationalism could successfully take root here in what was seen to be “the most unambiguous instance of a plural society … in the Western world.”48 This viewpoint was underpinned by facts on the ground. When in 1973–74, under directives of the British government and the Sunningdale Agreement, moves were made to implement a powersharing executive for unionists and nationalists, the result was a spectacular failure, with a strike by Protestant workers leading to the collapse of power sharing after just five months.49 In light of this experience, the promise for 47

48 49

The Agreement: The Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 134. R. Fisk (1975) The Point of No Return: The Strike which Broke the British in Ulster, London, André Deutsch.

Introduction

9

consociational democracy in Northern Ireland was seen as very dim, and for a while even Lijphart rejected consociational democracy as a realistic option for the region, suggesting partition as a possible alternative.50 Over the years, though, as within and around Northern Ireland the balance of power shifted,51 and as the majority–minority population ratio narrowed,52 consociation’s prospects improved. This was especially the case from the mid-1990s, with the Irish Republican Army’s ceasefire of August 1994 and the formulation by the British and Irish governments of the Framework Document that prefigured the Belfast Agreement.53 Currently, over a decade after the Agreement and with the formation of the power-sharing pact between the Democratic Unionist Party and Sinn Féin, consociationalism is at the heart of academic and political debate on the Northern Ireland conflict. In no small part, as this volume attests, this is due to the efforts of two highly regarded political scientists: John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary – who in many of their widely read publications present their research as “a constructive synthesis with Lijphart’s work.”54 Between them, McGarry and O’Leary have, as a matter “of moral and political necessity,”55 assertively regenerated the standing of consociational theory – especially by giving added focus to the role of international involvement – so as to not only better interpret the Northern Ireland conflict, but also to significantly inform political practice there and further afield.56 Indeed, it is the relative success of consociationalism in Northern Ireland that has led McGarry and O’Leary, and others, to argue that it has further promise, as a “tool of choice,”57 for crafting the democratic institutional alternatives confronting ethnically conflicted societies moving from war to peace. This has been particularly so in Afghanistan and Iraq, but also in Kenya, Kosovo, Rwanda, Sri Lanka, and Sudan.58 As peace settlements increasingly become brokered by the international community working through the United Nations, the key actors now routinely turn to consociational 50

51

52

53

54 55 56

57

58

A. Lijphart (1975) “Review article. The Northern Ireland problem: Cases, theories, and solutions,” British Journal of Political Science 5(1), 83–106; A. Lijphart (2000) “Definitions, evidence, and policy: A response to Matthijs Bogaards’ critique,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 12(4), 430, n. 2. J. Ruane and J. Todd (1996) The Dynamics of Conflict in Northern Ireland: Power, Conflict, and Emancipation, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. The latest figures estimate that 44 per cent of the Northern Irish population are Catholic, 53 per cent are Protestant (Northern Irish Census, December 2002). A. Lijphart (1996) “The Framework Document on Northern Ireland and the theory of power-sharing,” Government and Opposition 31(3), 267–74. O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics,” p. 19. O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics,” p. 9. See, in particular, McGarry and O’Leary’s 2004 collection of papers in The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press. M. Kerr (2006) Imposing Power-Sharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, p. 38. See, for example, B. R. Rubin (2004) “Creating a constitution for Afghanistan,” Journal of Democracy 15(3), 5–19.

10

Rupert Taylor

arrangements as best practice. Consociationalists have, through the force of their arguments, succeeded in convincing political elites that their form of government deserves to be considered, preferred, and implemented. In the case of Iraq, for instance, where internal conflict has more and more been defined in terms of ethnic or sectarian divisions,59 McGarry and O’Leary advocate that “the 2005 Constitution will need to be defended and, particularly where it is incomplete or vague, developed in a liberal consociational direction.”60 Northern Ireland has, ostensibly, become the key confirming case for consociational theory, and a study of consociation’s merits in Northern Ireland has relevance far beyond it. But it is important to stress that this case is by no means firmly settled. A number of critical questions still need to be posed: Just how bright is Northern Ireland’s shining star, and how long will it last? How well do McGarry and O’Leary make a reformulated case for the relevance of consociational theory? Does a consociation present the most compelling solution? Does it capture the complexity of what is at stake? More generally, does consociational democracy represent the best, or indeed only, form of democracy for divided societies? Might the problems confronting (and solutions for) divided societies be better construed through alternative theoretical approaches that engage with more interpretative and critical forms of social science?61 In particular, critics may question the normative position of consociationalism, derived as it is “from an empirically based account of the world as it is,”62 on the grounds that it does not offer sufficient interpretative insight into the meaning of ethnic divisions or provide critical intent to move beyond political accommodation and conflict management to integration and conflict transformation.63 More specifically, it may be asked if consociationalism’s reading of ethnicity as a key independent explanatory factor, which is unquestionably taken to set the parameters for social engineering, is sociologically correct? What of the body of socialscientific scholarship that sees ethnicity as an interdependent socially constructed, fluid factor – mediated by class, status, and education (amongst other influences)?64 These questions, along with others similar in design and scope, are the main focus of this volume. 59

60

61

62 63

64

International Crisis Group (2006) The Next Iraq War? Sectarianism and Civil Conflict, Middle East Report no. 52. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2007) “Iraq’s Constitution of 2005: Liberal consociation as political prescription,” International Journal of Constitutional Law 5(4), p. 676. Consider, for example, R. J. Bernstein (1979) The Restructuring of Social and Political Theory, Methuen, London; B. Fay (1975) Social Theory and Political Practice, London, Allen & Unwin. Stears, “The vocation of political theory,” p. 327. R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 37–52. R. Taylor (1999) “Political science encounters ‘race’ and ‘ethnicity,’” in M. Bulmer and J. Solomos (eds) Ethnic and Racial Studies Today, London, Routledge, pp. 115–23.

Introduction

11

In the pages that follow, a number of internationally respected scholars who have published in the field of consociational theory and/or the Northern Ireland conflict present divergent views on the benefits of consociational theory – as advocated by McGarry and O’Leary – for Northern Ireland and, by extension, similarly divided places. All contributors simultaneously engage with the broader empirical, comparative, and theoretical issues in question. Rather uniquely, this volume is structured as a symposium. In Part I, McGarry and O’Leary present their argument in favour of consociationalism for Northern Ireland. This is then followed, in Part II, by sixteen commentaries on the merits and demerits of the argument. The commentaries range from “friendly” to “not so friendly,” and are in the main presented in order of increasing theoretical divergence from consociational theory. In Part III, McGarry and O’Leary give their response, accepting and providing further arguments in support of their position, whilst robustly defending themselves from their not-so-friendly critics. This structure provides for a lively exchange with much agreement but perhaps more disagreement, such that the volume as a whole is neither presented as being, nor should it be taken to be, simply for or against consociationalism. Above all, the symposium has been framed and pursued in the spirit of an intellectual obligation “to pursue continually the goal of a broader and deeper vision.”65

65

Spragens, The Dilemma of Contemporary Political Theory, p. 167.

Part I

Argument

1

Power shared after the deaths of thousands John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

We must not allow our justified loathing of the horrors and tragedies of the past to become a barrier to creating a better and more stable future for our children. (Rev. Ian Paisley, MP, MLA, Leader of the Democratic Unionist Party, March 26, 2007) We are very conscious of the many people who have suffered. We owe it to them to build the best possible future. … It is a time for generosity, a time to be mindful of the common good and of the future of all our people. (Gerry Adams, MP, MLA, President of Sinn Féin, March 26, 2007) It’s a deeply divided society, it continues that way. While one can agree on political and security measures, it takes a very long time, generations perhaps, to change people’s hearts and minds. So while this is a very important step, no-one should think that trust and love is going to be breaking out tomorrow between the two communities in Northern Ireland. That will take a long time, but this is a tremendous step forward. (Senator George Mitchell, March 26, 2007) You’ll never know the hurt I suffered, nor the pain I rise above, And I’ll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love, And it makes me feel so sorry, Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats, Blowing through the letters that we wrote, Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves (Bob Dylan, “Idiot Wind,” Blood on the Tracks, 1974)

Before the dust settles on the bloody tracks left by political partisans in Northern Ireland over the last 30 years one last discussion of political prescriptions for the region may be intellectually fruitful. We begin from the premise that democracies have two broad and principled choices for managing diversity that are compatible with liberal values. Integration is one. Integrationists aspire to construct a single public identity. Since they believe that inter-group conflict results from group-based partisanship in political

16

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

institutions they link diagnosis and prescription. To avoid a partisan state, integrationists condemn ethnic or religious political parties or civic associations, and praise the virtues of non-ethnic or cross-ethnic agendas officially promoted by the Conservative or Labour parties in Great Britain, or by the Republican and Democratic parties in the United States.1 Integrationists favour electoral systems that discourage the mobilization of parties around national, ethnic, religious, or cultural differences. They usually reject proportional electoral systems, which they think facilitate communal appeals, and favour rules which require winners to achieve majority or plurality support, usually in single-member districts. They endorse executive institutions that favour candidates who rise above religious, linguistic, and ethnic “factions.” They frown on the delegation of public policy functions to minority nationalities, or ethnic or religious communities, and oppose publicly funded religious school systems, and forms of autonomy based on “groups.”2 Integration is the preferred policy of most democratic states and international organizations, and the dominant approach among academics who study national, ethnic, and religious conflicts, especially in North America. Integration is often preferred by dominant communities within states, but also by small, dispersed minorities, such as immigrant communities, or “middlemen” minorities who cannot aspire to a state of their own. Accommodation is a second option for democracies with multiple peoples. The housing metaphor indicates the goal of encompassing dual or multiple public identities in many-roomed political mansions. Three types of accommodation are distinct, though they can be combined, namely territorial pluralism (i.e. the combination of territorial self-government for regions and power sharing in the federal or union government); credible multiculturalism (i.e. proportional representation of groups in common institutions and selfgovernment in their cultural affairs); and, consociational3 or centripetal 1

2

3

These parties’ origins in distinctive religious or ethnic or racial constituencies are sometimes forgotten. Even today the Labour Party wins a disproportional share of Catholic voters in Great Britain in relation to the income or class characteristics of its voters. Likewise the Democratic Party is disproportionately the party of “white ethnics,” who are disproportionately Catholic, and of African Americans, who are mostly the descendants of slaves. For examples of integrationist thinking, see B. Barry (2000) Culture and Inequality, Cambridge, Polity Press; P. Brass (1991) Ethnicity and Nationalism: Theory and Comparison, New Delhi, Sage; B. Reilly (2001) Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict Management, New York, Cambridge University Press; and P. Roeder (1991) “Soviet federalism and ethnic mobilization,” World Politics 43(2), 196–232. Consociational theory is most closely associated with the work of Arend Lijphart: see, for example, (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, University of California Press; (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, Yale University Press; (1995) “Self-determination versus pre-determination of ethnic minorities in power-sharing systems,” in W. Kymlicka (ed.) The Rights of Minority Cultures, Oxford, Oxford University Press; and (2002) “The wave of power-sharing democracy,” in A. Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 37–55.

Argument

17

power sharing.4 Consociational power sharing accommodates groups by voluntarily including all sizeable communities in executive and legislative institutions; by promoting proportionality throughout public administration, including the electoral system, security systems, and the courts; and through granting communities autonomy in their distinctive affairs. In more rigid consociations minority vetoes are built into the constitution or law making. Centripetalists promote vote-pooling electoral systems that facilitate or mandate the election of moderate ethnic politicians, those who are capable of reaching out to other ethnic communities. They reject the proportional electoral systems associated with consociation, seeing these as conducive to the election of ethnic radicals. Centripetalists support power sharing based on inter-ethnic coalitions of moderate parties. Integrationists and accommodationists usually have rival views of the roots of national, ethnic, and communal conflict. Integrationists invariably insist that identities are malleable, fluid, soft, or transformable, whereas accommodationists think that in certain places and times they may be inflexible, resilient, crystallized, durable, and hard.5 In the accommodationist perspective, political prudence and morality requires considering the special interests, needs, and fears of distinct groups so that they regard the state as fit for them. Accommodating groups, particularly through consociation and territorial pluralism, are less popular with most established states than integration, because most states prefer the ideal of the nationstate, and it is less popular in the academy, which is saturated with the assumptions of the nation-state when it is not cosmopolitan by persuasion. But accommodation is often the first or second preference of minorities,

4

5

For other consociational thought see J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 275–87; K. McRae (ed.) (1974) Consociational Democracy in Segmented Societies, Toronto, McClelland and Stewart; E. A. Nordlinger (1972) Conflict Regulation in Divided Societies, Harvard Studies in International Affairs, no. 29, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; and B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal and Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 3–43. Centripetalism is most closely associated with the work of Donald L. Horowitz. See, for example, D. L. Horowitz (1985) Ethnic Groups in Conflict, Berkeley, University of California Press; (1989) “Making moderation pay: The comparative politics of ethnic conflict management,” in J. Montville (ed.) Conflict and Peacemaking in Multiethnic Societies, Lexington, MA, Heath, pp. 451–76; (1991) A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional Engineering in a Divided Society, Berkeley, University of California Press. Also see Reilly, Democracy in Divided Societies; B. Reilly and A. Reynolds (1999) Electoral Systems and Conflict in Divided Societies, Washington, DC, National Academy Press. For an example of the former view, see D. Miller (1989) Market, State and Community: The Foundations of Market Socialism, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 237. For an example of the latter view, see J. McGarry (1998) “Political settlements in Northern Ireland and South Africa,” Political Studies 46(5), 853–70; and B. O’Leary and K. Salih (2005) “The denial, resurrection and affirmation of Kurdistan,” in B. O’Leary, J. McGarry, and K. Salih (eds) The Future of Kurdistan in Iraq, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, ch. 1.

18

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

particularly sizeable minorities that cannot easily win their own sovereign states.6 Integration and accommodation constitute among the most important democratic design choices in deeply divided places. In Northern Ireland, political and academic debate has cut across these boundaries, ranging consociationalists against integrationists and centripetalists. The debate has dominated the political science literature on Northern Ireland, permeating “[it] to such an extent that it can rarely be avoided by students of Northern Irish politics.”7 The debate is intricately connected to the fact that, since April 10, 1998, Northern Ireland has had a squarely consociational Agreement, with federal and confederal characteristics, which make its institutions both consociational and territorially pluralist. Criticisms and defences of the Agreement, as well as more detached evaluations, are usually conducted through consociational and integrationist or centripetalist lenses. This collection fits this pattern, though we also emphasize the Agreement’s federal and confederal character.

The Agreement’s integrationist and centripetalist critics Three varieties of integrationist critics of the Agreement may be identified, who may be irritated mightily to be classed within the same normative orientation. We respect their right to call themselves whatever they want, and expect them to disagree with our summaries, though we will be interested to see how they reject the idea that they are integrationists.

Republicans (Irish civic nationalists) From its inception, among the United Irishmen, Irish republicanism has sought to include Catholic, Protestant, and dissenter within the common name of Irishman. Today Irish republicanism seeks also to include women, non-believers, and non-Christians. The sincerity of these civic commitments should not be doubted, even if they have not always been upheld in political action or daily practice. Republicanism derives from political thinkers who considered the conditions under which city states, or agrarian republics, would flourish, notably Niccolò Machiavelli, James Harrington, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Thomas Jefferson, and Immanuel Kant, who all thought citizens needed sufficient property and sufficient equality to be sturdy and independent of the state and oppressive social

6

7

See J. McGarry, B. O’Leary, and R. Simeon (2008) “Integration versus accommodation: The enduring debate in ethnic conflict regulation,” in S. Choudhry (ed.) Constitutional Design for Divided Societies, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 41–90. A. Edwards (2007) “Interpreting the conflict in Northern Ireland,” Ethnopolitics 6(1), p. 139.

Argument

19

organizations.8 Civic virtue among citizens was best promoted through a common and deliberative public culture. Shared citizenship, education, language, religion, and military service for the republic would integrate the polity.9 In modern times republicans have sometimes veered toward what is sometimes called “integral nationalism.” In all cases they oppose groupbased remedies to address disadvantage.10 They champion the nation of individuals, and promote integration as a prelude to assimilation. The clearest examples of such republicanism are found in contemporary France and Turkey: Jacobinism and Kemalism are bedfellows.11 In Ireland “rejectionist republicans” are defined by their approach to the Agreement. They include Republican Sinn Féin, the 32 County Sovereignty Movement, and their respective military wings, the Continuity and Real IRAs. Their goals are supported by some academics and intellectuals, some connected with The Blanket,12 who argue that unionists have a soft political identity, maintained by the presence of the British state. They have a shared agreement that there is but one nation in Ireland. They regard the Agreement as profoundly counterproductive: it entrenches British rule in Ireland, and supports the view that Ireland is politically divided between two sectarian communities. The Democratic Unionist Party–Sinn Féin pact over power sharing has been described by one rejectionist republican as a “sectarian carve up between two ethnic dictators.”13 Rejecting the Agreement is commended, followed by the withdrawal of the British state from Northern Ireland and the incorporation of all of its citizens into a 32-county Irish

8

9 10

11

12

13

See, inter alia, N. Machiavelli (1997) Discourses on Livy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, and (1975) The Prince, Harmondsworth, Penguin; J. Harrington (1977) The Political Works of James Harrington, ed. J. G. A. Pocock, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; J-J. Rousseau (1968) The Social Contract, Harmondsworth, Penguin; T. Jefferson (1999), reprinted in The Political Writings of Thomas Jefferson, J. Appleby and T. Ball (eds), Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; I. Kant (1970) Political Writings, ed. H. S. Reiss, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; and C. B. Macpherson (1977) The Life and Times of Liberal Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press. J-J. Rousseau (1985) The Government of Poland, Indianapolis, Hackett. See P. Alter (1994) Nationalism, London, Edward Arnold; and C. Ward (1991) “The limits of ‘Liberal Republicanism’: Why group-based remedies and Republican citizenship don’t mix,” Columbia Law Review 91(3), 581–607. See E. Gellner (1994) “Kemalism,” in Encounters with Nationalism, Oxford, Basil Blackwell, pp. 81–91; and Ü. Cizre (2001) “Turkey’s Kurdish problem: Borders, identity and hegemony,” in B. O’Leary, I. S. Lustick, and T. Callaghy (eds) Right-Sizing the State: The Politics of Moving Borders, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 222–252. Exponents and critics can be found in N. Porter (ed.) (1998) The Republican Ideal: Current Perspectives, Belfast, Blackstaff. See also K. Rooney (1998) “The divisions in Ireland are artificial, created and maintained by Britain to enable it to rule its last colony … there is absolutely no basis for the divisions between Catholics and Protestants. We are the same race, speak the same language, and share the same history”: “Institutionalising division,” Fortnight, June, p. 21. A. McIntyre (2007) “The man without the mask,” The Blanket, March 10. Online: www. phoblacht.net/AM130307.html

20

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

republic. Some though not all republican rejectionists support the use of force to achieve these ends. Civic unionists (British civic nationalists) “Unionist rejectionists,” including those in Robert McCartney’s United Kingdom Unionist Party (UKUP), and the short-lived Northern Ireland Unionist Party (NIUP), share many of the intellectual convictions and habits of mind of the civic republican tradition, including that of their Irish rivals. They maintain that most Catholics would be happy to be citizens of the United Kingdom, provided their individual rights and culture were protected. In some accounts, provided a united Ireland was clearly not a realistic constitutional alternative, then Catholics would reconcile themselves to the Union.14 Integration with Great Britain is promoted as the correct political goal rather than the Agreement’s institutions, which are said to encourage Catholics to look to Dublin and to threaten the British civil liberties of all Northern Ireland’s citizens. Strong unionist integrationists reject substantive devolution or territorial decentralization within the Union of any sort, with or without power sharing. They are exemplars of what Iain McLean has called “unionism without the Union,” a dying breed in his view.15 They think that territorial self-government should be minimalist, such as that in London or Wales, and should not jeopardize the benefits of the centralized Union.16 Post-national transformers Among the academic left and in small parties from outside the ethno-national blocs, including the Alliance, Democratic Left, the Labour Party, and the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition, there is a political perspective that emphasizes the need for Northern Ireland’s “society” to be transformed from the bottom up – and which complains that consociationalists are (analytically) elite focused and (normatively) elitist. “Transformers” typically blame regional divisions on social segregation, economic inequality, and ethnocentric appeals by political elites in both communities. They argue that the elitenegotiated Agreement has refocused politics on divisive constitutional questions, which has obscured cross-cutting (“bread and butter”) issues based on 14

15

16

D. Kennedy (1999) “Dash for Agreement: Temporary accommodation or lasting settlement?” Fordham International Law Journal 22(4), 1440–64. I. McLean and A. McMillan (2005) State of the Union: Unionism and the Alternatives in the United Kingdom since 1707, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Some self-styled civic unionists subsequently accepted the Agreement; see N. Porter (1996) Rethinking Unionism: An Alternative Vision for Northern Ireland, Belfast, Blackstaff; and the shifts, in (2003) The Elusive Quest: Reconciliation in Northern Ireland, Belfast, Blackstaff. The latter was subjected to an exasperated review by the then leader of the Ulster Unionist Party; see D. Trimble (2003) “Words, words, words (review of Norman Porter’s The Elusive Quest),” Times Literary Supplement 5220, April 18, pp. 7–8.

Argument

21

class.17 Transformers call for public policies to promote social integration,18 e.g. increased public spending to tackle the (presumed) “material basis” of sectarian identities,19 and for support to be given to (progressive) civil-society organizations prepared to challenge sectarian elites.20 Among transformers we include Joseph Ruane and Jennifer Todd who are exponents of emancipation, i.e. emancipation from existing conflictual identities.21 Some other emancipationists seem optimistic about the prospects for transformation because they believe that sectarian divisions are superficial, the product of manipulative elites. Robin Wilson, selectively citing some data, observes that most people see themselves as neither unionists nor nationalists,22 while Rupert Taylor argues that voluntary associations have succeeded in producing an “erosion of ethno-nationalism on both sides, a fading of Orange and Green, in favour of a commonality around the need for genuine structures of democracy and justice.”23 In Taylor’s view, transformation is a prerequisite for a lasting political settlement. The Agreement is counterproductive because its consociational, segregationist logic makes transformation impossible.24 Other supporters of social transformation, by contrast, including Lord Paul Bew and Henry Patterson, and members of the Democratic Left and the Alliance, have accepted the Agreement has progressive potential, though they have been unhappy with its evolution.25 Some of the most sophisticated emancipationists, namely Ian O’Flynn, Joseph Ruane, and Jennifer Todd by contrast, have not despaired of the Agreement’s progressive potential. 17

18

19

20

21

22

23 24 25

R. Wilson (2007) “Devolved government must address democratic reform,” The Irish Times, April 19. In Wilson’s view, “Equal opportunities have historically been at the heart of the Northern Ireland problem.” P. Shirlow (2006) “Segregation, ethno-sectarianism and the ‘new’ Belfast,” in M. Cox, A. Guelke, and F. Stephen (eds) A Farewell to Arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement, 2nd edn, Manchester, Manchester University Press, pp. 226–37; P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press. R. Taylor (1994) “A consociational path to peace in Northern Ireland and South Africa?” in A. Guelke (ed.) New Perspectives on the Northern Ireland Conflict, Avebury, Aldershot, pp. 161–74. Taylor approvingly cites Henry Patterson for the claim that the accommodation of the minority’s national identity in the Anglo-Irish Agreement was a poor substitute for dealing with the “material basis of Catholic grievance,” p. 171, n. 13. Taylor calls for support to be given to those organizations that “cross-cut social divisions and challenge and erode the clash of opposing ethnonationalisms,” R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 47. J. Ruane and J. Todd (1996) The Dynamics of Conflict in Northern Ireland: Power, Conflict and Emancipation, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, ch. 11. R. Wilson (1999) “Making the Agreement stick: Prospects for peace in Northern Ireland,” Renewal 17(1), p. 21. Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” p. 45. Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” For Paul Bew and Henry Patterson’s past anti-consociationalist views, see “Scenarios for progress in Northern Ireland,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) (1990) The Future of Northern Ireland, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1990, p. 217, and P. Bew and H. Patterson (1985) The British State and the Ulster Crisis, London, Verso.

22

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Centripetalists The expression “centripetalism” was coined by Andrew Reynolds and Benjamin Reilly to characterize the prescriptions of the American political scientist Donald L. Horowitz, who favours fixing political institutions to converge on those with moderate preferences, those in the centre, whence “centripetalism.”26 In Northern Ireland centripetalists can usually be found in intellectual alliance with integrationists – opposing consociation. Horowitz has applied his ideas to Northern Ireland,27 where they have attracted some admiration.28 Centripetalists may be sympathetic to social transformation, at least in its focus on ending segregation and working through civil-society organizations, though they need have no utopian emancipationist beliefs. Transformers tend to be sociologists, political sociologists, political theorists, and social geographers, whereas centripetalists are political scientists who emphasize the capacity of political institutions to promote accommodation, but are less confident of their ability to erase ethnic identities. Horowitz argues that Northern Ireland’s political institutions should be redesigned to reward moderate politicians and to encourage them to reach out across ethnic boundaries. Centripetalists strongly dislike party-list proportional representation (PR) and the single transferable vote (STV) preferential system of proportional representation in six-member districts – the latter is said to damage the prospects for inter-ethnic cooperation because the relatively low quota required to win seats makes it too easy for hard-line parties and their candidates to be successful.29 Centripetalists, by contrast, advocate the alternative vote (AV), which involves preferential voting, like STV, but requires each winning candidate to win majority support in single-member districts. They believe that AV can encourage politicians to “vote pool” to build a pan-ethnic majority.30 The alternative vote, it is argued, can provide the 26

27

28

29 30

Reilly and Reynolds, Electoral Systems and Conflict in Divided Societies; and A. Reynolds and B. Reilly (1997) The International IDEA Handbook of Electoral Design, Stockholm, International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance. D. L. Horowitz (2001) “The Agreement: Clear, consociational and risky,” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World, pp. 89–108; D. L. Horowitz (2002) “Explaining the Northern Ireland Agreement: The sources of an unlikely constitutional consensus,” British Journal of Political Science 32(2), 193–220. R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2003) “A route to stability: The review of the Belfast Agreement,” Belfast, Democratic Dialogue, August, http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/dd/papers/dd03agreview.pdf, p. 14; R. Wilson (2003) “Belfast Agreement power-sharing model can entrench sectarianism,” The Irish Times, March 5; R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2006) “From the Belfast Agreement to stable power-sharing,” paper presented at the Political Studies Association “Territorial politics” conference, Queen’s University, Belfast, January, pp. 13–14; I. O’Flynn (2003) “The problem of recognising individual and national identities: A liberal critique of the Belfast Agreement,” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 6(3), pp. 141–43. Horowitz, “The Agreement,” p. 99. For similar arguments from the experience of Papua New Guinea, see B. Reilly (1997) “Preferential voting and political engineering: A comparative study,” Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 35(1), 1–19; Reilly, Democracy in Divided Societies.

Argument

23

underpinnings for a coalition of moderates, thought to be much more stable than the inclusive and “ethnocentric” coalitions they associate with consociation.

The Agreement’s consociational friends Consociational theory was first applied to Northern Ireland by the distinguished Dutch and American political scientist Arend Lijphart in the British Journal of Political Science.31 But, as he has often observed, practice does not require theory. Consociational principles were evident in the ill-fated Sunningdale Agreement of 1973–74, widely known locally and accurately as a power-sharing experiment. They were tacitly at work in the British and Irish governments’ approach to Northern Ireland between 1972 and 1975, and particularly after 1985. This is evidence that governments can promote consociation in particular circumstances. And what is rarely understood is they can practise the promotion of consociation without using the vocabulary of the theory – promoting executive power sharing, proportionality, educational autonomy, and equality is to talk consociation, even if one is not a paid up consociationalist. Consociational principles were present in the negotiations led by the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) and the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) that produced Strand One of the Agreement in 1998. These split the difference between the joint authority power-sharing principles previously advocated by the SDLP and the proportionality without power-sharing principles previously endorsed by the UUP, and put tentatively together in the Framework Documents of 1995. They were not rejected by the SDLP or UUP after the Agreement, and the post-Agreement negotiations between the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and Sinn Féin led to a resumption of executive power sharing in May of 2007.32 As well as having able practitioners, consociation has had supporters among academics who specialize on Northern Ireland, including those who work in law, political philosophy, and comparative politics.33 Consociational 31

32

33

A. Lijphart (1975) “Review article. The Northern Ireland problem: Cases, theories, and solutions,” British Journal of Political Science 5(1), 83–106. We are not arguing that government and political party leaders were all avid readers of Lijphart, let alone of McGarry and O’Leary, merely that a consociational agreement has to be based on tacit consociational thinking. C. Harvey (2003) “Human rights and the Good Friday Agreement,” Fortnight, July/August; C. Harvey (2005) “Implement the Agreement,” Fortnight, February; S. O’Neill (2001) “Mutual recognition and the accommodation of national diversity: Constitutional justice in Northern Ireland,” in A. G. Gagnon and J. Tully (eds) Multinational Democracies, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 222–41; J. Neuheiser and S. Wolff (eds) (2003) Peace at Last? The Impact of the Good Friday Agreement on Northern Ireland, Oxford, Berghahn, pp. 1–24; M. Kerr (2005) Imposing Power-Sharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon, Dublin, Irish Academic Press. See also the many legal writings of C. McCrudden, especially (2006) “Consociationalism, equality and minorities in the Northern Ireland Bill of Rights debate,” University of Oxford Faculty of Law, Legal studies research paper series, Working paper 6/2006.

24

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

theory has also helped craft our joint and individual writings.34 We have consistently shared Lijphart’s normative endorsements of consociation, and often his pessimism about its prospects in Northern Ireland. And, like Lijphart we are liberal rather than corporate consociationalists. We have, however, been critical supporters of consociation, and have disagreed with Lijphart on some important matters. Lijphart makes no fundamental distinction between polities that are linguistically, ethno-nationally, or religiously divided, whereas Northern Ireland has primarily experienced a self-determination dispute spanning two states. This diagnosis is crucial, both for accurate explanation and compelling prescription, consociational or not.35 We have disagreed with Lijphart over the critical obstacles to a durable political settlement, and have insisted that such a settlement requires more than just consociational institutions. Minimally, these include all-island and all-Ireland cross-border institutions, and institutions linking the two sovereign governments of the United Kingdom and Ireland in confederal ways; maximally, they might include arrangements for shared authority or shared sovereignty. We have differed from Lijphart over some conceptual and explanatory matters, but are revisionist consociationalists, not anti-consociationalists. Lastly, we have been robust, some would say controversial, consociationalists. We believe it is vital to champion consociation normatively, but to do so carefully, respecting the canons and protocols of scrupulous political science, and without regarding it as a universal panacea. We think it is false to claim that consociational theory is a “degenerating research program,” as Ian Lustick has maintained.36 Below we use the Agreement to reflect on both explanatory and prescriptive consociational theory. First we show how Northern Ireland’s experience can contribute to consociation’s “progressive research programme.” Then we review the debate between consociationalists and their critics using the fundamental evaluative criteria of stability, fairness, and 34

35 36

See our writings on Irish politics, particularly J. McGarry (1988) “The Anglo-Irish Agreement and power-sharing in Northern Ireland,” Political Quarterly 59(2), 236–50; McGarry and O’Leary, The Future of Northern Ireland; B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (1993) The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland, London, The Athlone Press, pp. 220–326; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Blackwell, pp. 311–53; B. O’Leary (1987) “The Anglo-Irish Agreement: Folly or statecraft?” West European Politics 10(1), pp. 11–12, 28–29; B. O’Leary, T. Lyne, J. Marshall, and B. Rowthorn (1993) Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority, London, Institute for Public Policy Research. A complete list of these writings can be found at the end of McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland. I. Lustick (1997) “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” World Politics 50(1), 88–117. To the contrary, we regard consociational theory as a “progressive research programme,” i.e. one that certainly requires revision, extension, and refinement, and which must remain amenable to empirical falsification. One might even claim that Northern Ireland’s Agreement and implementation constitute, in Lakatos’s sense, “novel facts” which validate consociational theory. After all many integrationists implied such a settlement was impossible.

Argument

25

democracy. We hope to show how the critics of consociation may learn from Northern Ireland’s experience, but this may reflect the triumph of hope over experience on our part. We will conclude that consociational theory provides the most sensible basis for understanding and prescribing for Northern Ireland and similar conflict zones – though, of course, not for all.

Consociational theory and Northern Ireland’s Agreement Consociationalists may feel vindicated that eight Northern Irish political parties were able, largely voluntarily, to negotiate a consociation. This is a fact that is recognized, albeit without enthusiasm, by virtually all integrationists.37 The simple achievement of the Agreement confronts one important criticism of consociation made by Donald Horowitz, namely that it is unachievable in deeply divided societies and is apt only for societies with moderate divisions.38 But the Northern Irish experience highlights a number of important weaknesses in classical consociational theory. The neglected treatment of pluri-national places Northern Ireland is best understood as a binational place, a subset of the category of pluri-national places, which have more than one mobilized national community. Such a place may be an entire state, or a region within a state, or a region that crosses sovereign state borders. Some of those resident in a pluri-national place may identify with no nation, preferring, perhaps, to identify with groups that cross-cut national lines, or they may identify with more than one nation, i.e. they may possess “nested” and 37

38

Horowitz acknowledges that Northern Ireland’s Agreement represents the “clearest example of fully blown consociationalism that exists today”; Horowitz, “The Agreement,” p. 94. Wilford and Wilson think it is the only example of consociation around; Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” p. 11. O’Flynn sees the agreement as “strongly consociational”; O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 140. Reynolds argues that Northern Ireland possesses “classically consociational institutions”; A. Reynolds (1999–2000), “A constitutional Pied Piper: The Northern Irish Good Friday Agreement,” Political Science Quarterly 114(4), p. 614. Bew writes that the Agreement has transformed Northern Ireland into a “consociational-type entity”; P. Bew (2006) “The Belfast Agreement of 1998: From ethnic democracy to a multicultural, consociational settlement?” in Cox, Guelke, and Stephen (eds), A Farewell to Arms? p. 65. Oberschall and Palmer see the Agreement’s institutions as “built on the four basic principles of consociational power-sharing”; A. Oberschall and L. Palmer, “The failure of moderate politics: The case of Northern Ireland,” in I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (2005) Power-Sharing: New Challenges for Divided Societies, London, Pluto Press, p. 80. Taylor sees the Agreement as “clearly” consociational; R. Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” p. 38; R. Taylor (2006) “The Belfast Agreement and the politics of consociationalism: A critique,” Political Quarterly 77(2), p. 220. For an outlier view which rejects the thesis that the Agreement is consociational, see P. Dixon (2005) “Why the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland is not consociational,” Political Quarterly 76(3), 357–67. Horowitz, Ethnic Groups in Conflict, pp. 572–73.

26

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

complementary national identities. These various identities may vary in intensity, but none of them is primordial, in the sense that they have existed since time immemorial – though they may be experienced as such, and that may be decisive for political attitudes and behaviour. In a pluri-national place the discrete national identities are politically salient, i.e. the dominant political party or parties, as well as the major popular civic associations, are nationalist in character, and support the classical nationalist goals of self-determination (autonomy or independence for the nation). The concept of a pluri-national place implies that the discrete national identities are durable, i.e. the differing nationalities are not likely to assimilate, fuse, or dissolve into one common identity at any foreseeable point. One can test for the existence of pluri-national places, at least in democracies, by examining which parties people vote for, and what types of civic association they participate in, and for how long these patterns have existed.39 Traditional consociational theory was not developed with pluri-national places at the forefront of Lijphart’s theoretical and empirical work. Consequently it has not always specified sufficiently the institutional arrangements that pluri-national places need if they are to be both democratic and stable. This criticism is in stark contrast to the most common integrationist criticism of consociation, viz. that it has disintegrative consequences. Our perspective is different. We admire consociations when they are appropriate, but argue that consociational institutions may be too integrationist for national minorities. This observation is obvious when nationalist movements seek secession because consociation is normally associated with institutional arrangements that maintain the territorial integrity of the existing state. “Integrationists” often forget that consociation may be considered territorially “integrationist” by nationalists unhappy with the existing state. Lijphart does not wholly reject secession or partition to resolve deep conflicts, but the focus of his work has been on integrating diverse groups within existing states through accommodating them as groups. Our critical observation is that even when minority nationalities’ aspirations fall short of independent sovereign statehood, it is not true that consociation will always be adequate to resolve their demands. In short, while consociation was and is vital for a political settlement in Northern Ireland, it had to be supplemented by key binational institutions that squarely addressed the national dimension of the conflict between British nationalists, known as unionists, and Irish integrationists, known as nationalists. Consociation was a necessary, but insufficient, requirement for a stable agreement. Lijphart’s failure to focus on pluri-national places is suggested by his original case studies, the terminology he employed, and the prescriptions he suggested. Consociational theory developed from Lijphart’s study of his 39

B. O’Leary, “Power-sharing, pluralist federation, and federacy,” in O’Leary, McGarry, and Salih (eds) The Future of Kurdistan in Iraq, pp. 49–50.

Argument

27

native The Netherlands,40 which he then extended to three other small western European democracies, namely Switzerland, Austria, and Belgium – though, of course, he considered other cases.41 This choice of case studies has often been criticized. Critics have argued that the four European cases were not violently divided, or not deeply divided, at least in the immediate past, and so they questioned their relevance, and that of consociational theory, for deeply divided places. Others noted that the four were prosperous, and raised doubts about their relevance for less well-off places. Some indicated that the four were all small, and argued – in agreement with Lijphart – that small places were advantageous for consociational institutions. But another feature of the four cases that has been less often noticed is that, with the subsequent exception of Belgium, the four cases were not pluri-national, i.e. places with more than one mobilized national community. Or, at least they were not when Lijphart was developing his theory: Belgium has since distinctly become such a place, which helps explain why it is now both federal and consociational. The Netherlands, Lijphart’s home and the focus of his first book, The Politics of Accommodation, was divided along religious lines between Catholics and Protestants, and between Christians and the secular. The main division within Belgium, when Lijphart wrote, and the one to which consociational prescriptions were applied, was between Catholics and secular-minded socialists.42 Switzerland’s main historic cleavage, stemming from its nineteenth-century civil war, was between Protestants and Catholics. Language divisions became more important later, but these have cross-cut religious divisions, and have not translated into national mobilizations. Few among the Swiss language communities see their linguistic communities as distinct nations. Virtually all see themselves as Swiss, albeit of different linguistic or religious communities. (Here consociation and federation have helped foster a common public identity with strong sub-national identities: cantonal, religious, and linguistic.) Austria, by contrast, was divided between right-wing conservatives and socialists. There had been a national division between those who saw themselves as German and Austrians, but this was overcome, and it was not ethno-national. That Lijphart’s foundational work did not focus on national divisions is shown in the terminology he employed. Nowhere, as far as we can see, did Lijphart use the terms “nation,” “stateless nation,” “minority nation,” “nationality,” “ethno-national,” or even the somewhat ambiguous “national minority” (which could mean a minority within a nation, but we take to mean a nationality) to describe the political communities with which he was concerned. The most frequent term Lijphart and other consociationalists used, though less popular now, is “segment,” which is like a “fraction” or a piece of pie; i.e. it is construed as a part of something larger. What Lijphart 40 41 42

Lijphart, The Politics of Accommodation. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 104.

28

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

may have had in mind was the state, or the “society” coterminous with that state. When Lijphart used the key term “plural society,” as in the title of his classic work on consociational democracy, Democracy in Plural Societies,43 or the generic term “divided society,” or “societal divisions,” he appeared to have in mind a single society, albeit one that was plural or divided. When minority nationalities, by contrast, think of themselves as segments or fractions, they may think of their nation as the relevant pie, and to complain that it has been segmented (partitioned) by “international” or sovereign borders. “Segment” additionally does not distinguish between national divisions and other divisions, such as those based on religion, language, or class. In more recent years, Lijphart has abandoned the use of “segment,” in favour of “ethnic” group,44 which is more appropriate for describing mobilized minority nationalities, as these are often associated with particular ethnic communities. But because it has numerous connotations (including minorities resident in their ancestral homelands who consider themselves nations and who seek self-determination; minorities resident on their ancestral homelands who are not nationally mobilized; and immigrant communities interested in integrating into their new nation-states, albeit, perhaps, with some protection for their culture and religion) it has its own problems. The expression “ethnic” group and its extension “multi-ethnic” elides the distinction between “pluri-national” and “polyethnic” or “multicultural.”45 Mobilized stateless nations are often at pains to point out that they are not mere cultural groups,46 and to distinguish their collectivity from the term “ethnic,” which is sometimes used in a pejorative way, or which suggests that the group in question is exclusive (“ethnocentric”), or confined to those of recent shared ancestral descent. And minority nationalities are often labelled as “ethnic” nations by dominant nationalities. Such minority nationalities often like to riposte that they are also civic nations, open to outsiders – in the same way that the state claims to be, and to observe and complain that the state’s nationalism has been constructed around a dominant ethnic core. Such is the standard response of groups like the Kurds of Iraq, Québécois, Catalans, and Irish nationalists to charges of ethnocentrism. 43

44

45

46

In Democracy in Plural Societies, “societies” refers to multiple polities, not to multiple societies within each polity. The same is true of Nordlinger’s Conflict Regulation in Divided Societies. See, for example, Lijphart, “Self-determination versus pre-determination”; Lijphart, “The wave of power-sharing democracy”; and A. Lijphart (2004) “Constitutional design for divided societies,” Journal of Democracy 15(2), 96–109. The expressions are made clear in Kymlicka’s work, which explains the differences between minority nations and multicultural or polyethnic communities; W. Kymlicka (1995) Multicultural Citizenship, Oxford, Oxford University Press. His book’s title obscures the distinction because it suggests that all minorities are “cultural.” In Canada, the Québéfcois bristle at attempts to describe them as part of Canada’s “multicultural” mosaic, arguing that this term should be restricted to immigrant groups. Other nationalities see the difference between them and majority nations as in identity, rather than culture, which are not synonyms.

Argument

29

Ethnicity may well fuel minority – and majority – nationalities, but we should distinguish national from ethnic conflict. Lastly, Lijphart’s prescriptions suggested a focus on places that were demographically mixed and spatially integrated. His classic work explained that the “primary characteristic of consociational democracy” is that segmental leaders should share power within the state’s central government.47 The primary concern of mobilized stateless nations, however, may be on how much power should be exercised by the central government – and, sometimes, on whether there should be more than one central government (i.e. on whether the state should be reconstituted as more than one state). Stateless nations, that is, may value autonomy over power sharing, and may be prepared to trade power sharing for more autonomy, though they often insist on both. Lijphart’s emphasis on power sharing within the central government explains why consociation has been understood by some others to be entirely focused on this institutional mechanism.48 Indeed, many people use “consociation” and “power sharing” or “coalition government” as synonyms, which may sometimes be harmless. It is true that consociation is one type of power sharing, and that coalition government is normal in consociations, but there may be regional as well as central consociations. Lijphart recently elevated “group autonomy” to the status of one of consociation’s two “primary attributes.”49 This, arguably, reflects his recognition of the saliency of self-determination disputes, and we agree with this emphasis. But by group autonomy he means both “non-territorial” self-rule for a community over matters of common interest, such as schooling or religious affairs, and “territorial” autonomy. Non-territorial autonomy was the dominant form in three of the four classic cases of consociation – Belgium when he was writing, The Netherlands, and Austria. It was also present in the fourth, Switzerland. For Lijphart, non-territorial autonomy is particularly useful for groups that are territorially dispersed, while territorial autonomy is useful for groups that are concentrated. This eminently sensible reasoning does not, however, fully capture the relationships between nationalism and autonomy. Nationalist movements normally have a vital relationship with a unique homeland or “national territory.” They seek self-government in this particular territory, and not simply with their co-nationals. This relationship to the land is evident in the discourse of indigenous people, but it is true of all minority nationalities, including Scots and Catalans, and the 47 48

49

Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 25. For example, Berman et al. note that “the key feature of consociationalism (as opposed to federalism) is power-sharing across ethnic lines at the central level”; B. Berman, D. Eyoh, and W. Kymlicka (2004) Ethnicity and Democracy in Africa, London, James Currey, p. 20, n. 39. The index to Jack Snyder’s influential book states “consociational democracy, see power sharing”; J. Snyder (2000) From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Conflict, New York, W. W. Norton, p. 364. Lijphart, “Constitutional design for divided societies,” p. 97.

30

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

nationalists of Northern Ireland.50 Many minority nationalities, by contrast, have little interest in non-territorial autonomy, unless they are very small and dispersed.51 When discussing territorial autonomy, which he rightly regards as compatible with consociational prescription, Lijphart writes that segments may have more than one federal unit, particularly if they live in a large area or non-contiguous areas.52 This argument is consistent with the historical pattern in Switzerland, the only one of the four classic consociational democracies to practice territorial autonomy when Lijphart wrote, and where the French and German language communities are majorities in several cantons. There are indeed cases where minorities are happy with such arrangements. But stateless nations, mobilized qua nations, will generally shun the partitioning of their homeland into multiple jurisdictions – whether as cantons, provinces, or regions. Minority nationalities generally seek to be collectively self-governing, i.e. to incorporate most if not all of their members within a single territorially autonomous unit. Indeed, dividing nationalities into multiple federal units is a tactic often recommended by integrationists who think that dividing a minority among different tiers of government will make it more difficult for hardliners to organize a secession. Consociational theory, like other theories of conflict regulation, particularly integrationist theories, at least in its early modern forms, has focused on institutional prescriptions that coincide with a state’s territory.53 In short, it has been statist. Binational and pluri-national places, we have suggested, may involve national communities that are bisected or multi-sected by state borders. 50

51

52

53

W. Connor (1986) “The impact of homelands upon diasporas,” in G. Sheffer (ed.) Modern Diasporas in International Politics, London, Croom Helm, pp. 16–45. The emphasis on non-territorial autonomy over territorial autonomy in consociational theory, and the evidence from the west European consociations, may explain why some academics and political agents think that consociation need not involve any provision for territorial autonomy, and why consociation is often treated as an antonym of federation; see H. Bakvis (1987) “Alternative models of governance: Federalism, consociationalism, and corporatism,” in H. Bakvis and W. M. Chandler (eds) Federalism and the Role of the State, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, pp. 279–305. Others have claimed that an advantage of consociation over federation is that consociation does not give rise to fears of secession or irredentism “as groups are not given control over territory”; Berman, Eyoh, and Kymlicka, Ethnicity and Democracy, p. 20. Another leading authority explains that “consociational autonomy is not territorial, it is instead institutional, with government agreeing not to interfere in this aspect of self-management” and that “consociational systems are explicitly designed to manage conflicts where the distribution of ethnic populations does not allow for federal arrangements,” M. Esman (2005) An Introduction to Ethnic Conflict, London, Polity Press, pp. 144, 182. A. Lijphart (1979) “Consociation and federation: Conceptual and political links,” Canadian Journal of Political Science 12(3), p. 505. Lijphart has written on consociation in Northern Ireland, which is a region, not a state. For an examination of consociation in regions, see S. Wolff (2004) “The institutional structure of regional consociations in Brussels, Northern Ireland, and South Tyrol,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 10(3), 387–414.

Argument

31

Consociation within an existing state will not satisfy most such communities’ desire for national self-government. Here the partitioned fractions of the nation will typically seek political and other institutional links with their conationals across state borders. This has always been the case with Northern Ireland’s Irish nationalist minority. Lastly, in addition to placing at least as much stress on autonomy as power sharing, preferring territorial autonomy to corporate autonomy, and seeking collective autonomy despite partitioned institutions, minority nationalities may seek to have the state officially designated as pluri-national, rather than as a “nation-state.” Overlooking the specificities of pluri-national places was evident in Lijphart’s otherwise masterly analysis of the Northern Ireland conflict.54 He initially under-appreciated the fact that Northern Ireland’s conflict was based squarely on rival national movements, perhaps because of his upbringing amid Protestant and Catholic divisions in The Netherlands. He saw the two groups in conflict as “Catholics” and “Protestants,” and the core cleavage as “religious,” even though he was fully aware that the groups gave virtually all of their support to “nationalist” and “unionist” parties, respectively. Lijphart argued that the key political difficulty was the absence of support for power sharing among Protestants, because they were capable of exercising hegemonic power alone, and because they were disposed to Westminster majoritarian practices rather than continental power-sharing norms.55 This analysis was accurate, but limited. Northern Irish nationalists were opposed to mere internal power sharing within the United Kingdom. Republicans wanted national self-determination and a complete withdrawal of the British state from Ireland, whereas moderate nationalists wanted any consociation internationalized, i.e. to have a political linkage to Ireland and a role for the Irish government. Had unionists proposed just consociation in 1973 it would have been insufficient for Irish nationalists. And a key reason why many unionists opposed consociation was because they were British nationalists, profoundly concerned about Irish nationalists’ insistence on links with Ireland. They also had little incentive to share power for most of the period after 1972 because the default option was direct rule from Great Britain, their preferred nation-state. As we will see, when their demographic position started to slip, and when simple direct rule was no longer an option, unionists’ British political cultural preferences started to wane fairly fast. These considerations help explain why no consociational settlement was reached in Northern Ireland before 1998. The Sunningdale consociational agreement collapsed after just five months in 1974 because it was attacked by both Irish republican and British loyalist hardliners, who overthrew a moderate voluntary binational coalition. Republicans thought it did not satisfy their aspirations for Irish self-determination; loyalists feared that it undermined the Union with Britain. Subsequent power-sharing initiatives between 54 55

Lijphart, “Review article” and Democracy in Plural Societies, pp. 134–41. Lijphart, “Review article,” p. 100.

32

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

1974 and 1998 failed because they could not achieve mutual agreement. Any feasible agreement had to deal squarely with the disputes that had flowed from the inequitable legacies of the partition of Ireland in 1920, which had occurred without any formal respect for Irish self-determination. Several components of the Agreement reached in 1998 are relevant here, and all departed from traditional consociational accords: the North–South Ministerial Council, the British–Irish Governmental Conference, the recognition of the people of Ireland’s right to national self-determination, the recognition of the principle of consent, and the British–Irish Council. These are discussed in turn. The SDLP negotiated and signed the Agreement because its political institutions joined both parts of Ireland, and maintained an oversight role for the Republic’s government. The most important institution for local nationalists is the North–South Ministerial Council (NSMC), nominated by the Irish Republic’s government and the Northern Ireland premiers. It meets in plenary at least twice a year, and in smaller groups to discuss specific sectors (such as agriculture or education) on a “regular and frequent basis.” In addition, the Agreement provided for six mandatory cross-border or all-island “implementation” bodies which were given the task of cooperating over inland waterways, food safety, trade and business development, special European Union programmes, the Irish and Ulster-Scots languages, and aquaculture and marine matters. The Agreement committed both parts of Ireland to a further six functional areas of cooperation, including some aspects of transport, agriculture, education, health, the environment, and tourism. The British–Irish Intergovernmental Conference (B-IGC), the successor to the Intergovernmental Conference established under the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985, is another key cross-border institution. It guarantees access by Ireland’s government to policy formulation on all matters not – or not yet – devolved to the Northern Ireland Assembly or the NSMC. In the event of the collapse of the Agreement, this institution will resume the allencompassing role it had under the Anglo-Irish Agreement. It also promotes bilateral cooperation between the Irish and British governments on all matters of mutual interest within their respective jurisdictions. Irish republicans would have rejected the 1998 Agreement had the UK government not recognized, in a treaty, the right of the people of Ireland, meaning the whole island, to exercise their right to self-determination, albeit conjointly and severally as “north” and “south,” to bring about a united Ireland if that was their wish.56 The referendums and the British–Irish 56

The Agreement recognized the right of “the people of Ireland alone, by agreement between the two parts respectively and without external impediment, to exercise their right of selfdetermination on the basis of consent, freely and concurrently given, North and South, to bring about a united Ireland, if that is their wish, accepting that this right must be achieved and exercised with and subject to the agreement and consent of a majority of the people of Northern Ireland.” The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf, Constitutional Issues, 1(ii): 2.

Argument

33

Agreement (the treaty incorporating the Agreement), endeavour to make the partition of Ireland, the Agreement, and its institutions jointly dependent upon the expressed will of the people of Ireland. The consociation established by this ratification process is the first to be endorsed in referendums that required concurrent consent in jurisdictions in different states. Ambivalent unionists were persuaded to ratify the Agreement because it entrenched the principle of consent on both sides of the border. Northern Ireland cannot constitutionally become part of a unified Ireland unless a majority in the jurisdiction agrees in a referendum. Ireland’s constitution was changed, after the Agreement was ratified by referendum, to reflect this principle. Unionists also secured new east–west institutions to reflect their linkages with Great Britain. The British–Irish Council (BIC) comprises the two governments of the United Kingdom and Ireland, along with all the devolved governments of the United Kingdom and its neighbouring insular dependent territories (Scotland, Wales, the Isle of Man, Jersey, and Guernsey).57 These distinct institutions and rule for changing sovereignty over the territory mark out the settlement as one between national communities rather than simply ethnic or religious communities. Additionally, ministers in the power-sharing Executive take a “pledge of office,” not an “oath of allegiance.” Nationalist ministers do not have to swear an oath of allegiance to the Crown or the Union. Police reform also recognized binationalism. The Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) was unionist, and partisan, and seen as a politicized force by nationalists. The Patten Commission explained that the “main” problem facing policing was the political divide between unionists and nationalists and the fact that the latter associated the “police with unionism and the British state.”58 It recommended that the names and symbols of the police be freed from “any association with either the British or Irish states,” and proposed that the name be changed from the “Royal” Ulster Constabulary, which clearly signalled links to the British Crown, to the “Northern Ireland Police Service.” The unfortunate acronym “NIPS” led the UK government to propose, without controversy, the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). The RUC’s emblem, which showed a crown on top of a harp, which the RUC’s defenders argued represented both traditions, but which nationalists rejected as the subjugation of nationalist Ireland to the British Crown, was replaced by a new badge, a Saint Patrick’s cross surrounded by six symbols – a harp, crown, shamrock, laurel leaf, torch, and scales of justice. Patten recommended that the 57

58

For more details of the Agreement’s cross-border institutions, and the federalizing and confederalizing processes that may flow from them, see B. O’Leary “The nature of the Agreement,” in McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 272–81. Independent Commission for Policing in Northern Ireland (1999) A New Beginning: Policing in Northern Ireland – The Report of the Independent Commission for Policing for Northern Ireland [The Patten Report], London, Stationery Office, www.belfact.org.uk/report/fullreport. pdf

34

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

display of the Union flag and the portrait of the Queen in police stations should go.59 Creating consociational legislative procedures, the Agreement required that members elected to the Northern Ireland Assembly designate themselves not as Catholics and Protestants, but as “nationalists, unionists, and others.” Until the St Andrews Agreement of October 2006, the co-premiers who head the Executive had to secure the support of a majority of both nationalists and unionists, as well as a majority in the Assembly as a whole. Similarly the designation rules provided legislative vetoes to the “nationalist” and “unionist” communities. Key legislation either requires “parallel consent,” a concurrent majority of both nationalists and unionists as well as a majority in the Assembly, or “weighted majority,” 40 per cent of both nationalists and unionists, as well as 60 per cent in the Assembly overall, rules which discriminate against those who are neither registered nationalists nor unionists, and that may create a minor incentive for people to vote nationalist or unionist, as their votes would count more. But these rules reflect the fact that the national division has been the most important political division. Of the 108 members elected to the Assembly in 1998, 2003, and 2007, some 100, 101, and 100, respectively, were from nationalist or unionist political parties, on each occasion attracting over 90 per cent of the vote. Mutual recognition of national claims lay at the core of the Agreement. Unionists who made the Agreement recognized nationalists as nationalists, not simply as Catholics. Nationalists recognized unionists as unionists, and not just as Protestants. Ireland recognized the British political identity of unionists. The United Kingdom recognized Irish northern nationalists as a national minority, not simply as a cultural or religious minority. The new arrangements are a distinct advance from earlier legislation, such as the Government of Ireland Act 1920, which had outlawed discrimination on the basis of religion, but which had said nothing about nationality. The consociation in the Agreement has some similarities with the arrangements historically practised in countries such as The Netherlands, once divided between Catholics and Protestants, and in Lebanon, divided among ethno-confessional blocs, and, more recently, the provisional arrangements in South Africa’s interim constitution, a state that had been deeply divided along ethnic and racial lines. We would explain the additional features in Northern Ireland as being there because the British and Irish governments are aware that the place is nationally divided, i.e. divided between two national communities who want to be ruled by their respective nation-states. As a result, a purely internal consociational arrangement would have been inadequate. It would have addressed the minority’s desire to resist majority rule, but done nothing to satisfy its nationalist aspirations – for a 59

For details of the way in which the Agreement dealt with the nationality dimension of the Northern Ireland conflict, see O’Leary, “The nature of the Agreement,” pp. 260–93.

Argument

35

united Ireland, or for institutional links between Northern Ireland and the Republic, and to remedy its complaint that the existence of Northern Ireland as part of the UK is an injustice. The instability that affected the consociational institutions after 1998 centred on rival self-determination perspectives. Unionists’ lack of enthusiasm for the Agreement reflected their view that it moves too far in a nationalist direction; they and many nationalists see the Agreement not as a long-term or permanent arrangement, but as a step in a “process” aimed at hollowing out the Union and achieving Irish unification. Nationalists’ efforts to strengthen the North–South bodies, to strip British symbols from police stations and courthouses, are (correctly) interpreted in this light. So was the reluctance, before the summer of 2005, of armed republicans to relinquish their weaponry, and speeches from the Irish prime minister and the leader of Sinn Féin that envisaged a united Ireland in their lifetimes.60 Nationalists interpret the implementation difficulties as caused by the unwillingness of unionists to modify the Union, and the UK’s failure to implement and respect the Agreement’s provisions. The UK government’s initial response to the Patten Report’s recommendations was minimalist, retaining much more power for the British state than had been wanted by nationalists, or recommended by Patten. Secretary of State Peter Mandelson responded to UUP leader Trimble’s difficulties with his party and the unionist public by unilaterally suspending the Assembly, which would happen on four occasions in total, in breach of the international treaty that had been signed with Ireland, and the agreed view that the people of Ireland (in both jurisdictions) should determine their own future. Irish self-determination appeared to be still subordinate to “Westminster determination.” These moves help explain the Irish Republican Army’s reluctance to decommission its weaponry, which in turn worsened the position of unionist moderates. The resolution of the impasse over decommissioning was achieved during the summer of 2005, partly because the British government had, by 2003, agreed to address republicans’ self-determination concerns by promising to repeal its suspension power (passed in the rushed Northern Ireland Act 2000) and by supporting the devolution of justice and policing as soon as there was agreement among the local parties. In our view, it is not enough that the Northern Ireland Act 2000 has been repealed. The Act itself is proof that the UK’s understanding of the Agreement does not, as promised, respect the right of the Irish people, north and south, to self-determination – as expressed in their respective endorsements 60

For Prime Minister Ahern’s comments, see “Ahern: Irish Unity in my lifetime,” BBC News, November 22, 2006, (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/events/northern_ireland/latest_news/219653.stm). For Adams’s, see “Sinn Féin likely to cherry-pick at peace agreement, Adams indicates,” The Irish Times, April 20, 1998. They reasoned that the Agreement would make it easier to persuade unionists of the merits of unification, and would be more effective than the previous campaign of violence. More important, perhaps, was the popular understanding that the nationalist bloc’s share of the population will, at some point, surpass the unionist bloc’s.

36

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

of the institutions of the Agreement. Formally, according to the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty, every element of the Agreement – including the portions unionists strongly like – is revisable, and alterable, according to the will of the current or any future Westminster parliament. Nothing in the UK’s constitutional arrangements stops a future parliament from behaving as minister Mandelson did – brushing aside the UK’s treaty obligations to the government of Ireland. We think it would be desirable to have the full Agreement – with any revisions agreed under its terms, but without the UK Northern Ireland 2000 Act – entrenched in a fresh treaty and attached as a joint and justiciable protocol to whatever new European constitution may be proposed and agreed in the future (though this is now a more remote prospect than when we first conceived of the idea). This is the sole legal means to constitutionalize the Agreement, which cannot be otherwise constitutionalized in the UK’s constitution-free system. Each member state’s constitution has to be compatible with the European Union’s new constitution and this would be the best way of ensuring no clash of laws between the UK and Irish states. This proposal would ensure that any unilateral suspension of any of the Agreement’s institutions by the UK or Ireland would be regarded as a breach of the EU constitution by the appropriate court. Our approach is different from Brian Barry’s, who has argued, in a superficially similar way, that consociational theory is more relevant to religious or class conflicts than “ethnic” conflicts.61 Barry’s point is that consociational prescription works better for religious and class groups than for ethnic groups, because the latter are less amenable to control by their leaders, and more likely to be secessionist. But not all ethnic groups are secessionist (or even nationalist), and it is not true that ethnic divisions are necessarily more intractable than class or religious disputes.62 Unlike Barry we think that pluri-national places like Northern Ireland require consociational arrangements, including power sharing and territorial autonomy, but that these may not be enough. They may also require inter-state or interregional and trans-border institutions, and symbolic and functional recognition of other nationalities’ languages and identities in the constitution and public institutions. We do think that consociational arrangements in plurinational places should be liberal rather than corporate, i.e. they should accommodate the parties that win elections rather than any predetermined demographic quota of a national collectivity, and they should be accompanied by a rights-protection regime which safeguards individuals as well as national communities. These liberal consociational arrangements are appropriate precisely because we agree that national identities in pluri-national places are not permanently fixed, and not everyone adheres to them – or 61

62

B. Barry (1975) “The consociational model and its dangers,” European Journal of Political Research 3(4), 393–413; and B. Barry (1975) “Review article: Political accommodation and consociational democracy,” British Journal of Political Science 5(4), 477–505. See O’Leary “Debating consociational politics,” pp. 26–27.

Argument

37

with equal intensity if they do. A liberal consociation should treat as equally as possible those individuals who subscribe to rival national identities, to no national identity, to nested national identities, or have other salient public identities which cross-cut national lines.63 Consociational theory has no intrinsic hostility toward the accommodation of stateless nations, though it has historically had an analytically statist bias. The past neglect of nationality questions flows, we think, from its genesis in reflections on a number of small western European democracies that were divided religiously, culturally, and socio-economically, but not (then) nationally. Consociational thinking supposes that all politically salient groups should be treated fairly, proportionally, and with self-government, and it is consistent with what is needed in pluri-national places, once we have clarified what justice mandates. The same cannot be said about integrationists who are generally opposed to the accommodation of groups other than civil-society interest groups, and are particularly opposed to those based on national divisions. Integrationists agree with us that the Agreement’s focus on rival self-determination claims accounts for post-Agreement instability,64 but disagree with us in maintaining that such provisions are unnecessary because, in their view, the national divisions are not real, or not deep. External intervention and consociation Early consociational theory treated political systems as if they were sealed entities, immune from exogenous forces. This led it to downplay the importance of outside factors, both in explaining how consociational settlements emerge, and in considering their promotion in international politics. Of the much-debated nine factors initially listed by Lijphart as conducive to a consociational settlement, eight are endogenous.65 According to Lijphart, if a state’s warring factions perceive a common external threat, this will increase the prospects of internal solidarity, an argument based on his examination of Belgium, The Netherlands, Switzerland, and Austria, all of which have been threatened by larger neighbours, and have had, at least partially, consociational arrangements in recent history. As a corollary, Lijphart argued that 63

64 65

For discussions of liberal consociation, see J. McGarry (2007) “Liberal consociation and conflict management,” in B. Roswell, D. Malone, and M. Bouillon (eds) Iraq: Preventing Another Generation of Conflict, Boulder CO, Lynne Rienner, pp. 169–88; McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 32–36; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2007) “Iraq’s constitution of 2005: Liberal consociation as political prescription,” International Journal of Constitutional Law 5(4), 670–98; and B. O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics.” Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement.” Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, pp. 53–105. The formal headings of these eight factors on their first elaboration were: (1) no majority segment; (2) multiparty systems; (3) small population size; (4) appropriately structured cleavages; (5) overarching loyalties; (6) representative party systems; (7) geographical concentration of segments; and (8) traditions of elite accommodation.

38

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

one-sided external intervention would antagonize internal inter-ethnic relations.66 Both arguments were reinforced by considering Lebanon. The Lebanese negotiated a consociational “pact national” in 1943, partly to free themselves from the French, but the pact imploded in 1975 largely because of the impact of the Palestinian–Israeli conflict. But, outside forces can facilitate consociation by benign intervention, e.g. by mediation, or by using pressures and incentives to induce warring or potentially warring parties to reach agreement. Benign external political interventions helped produce Northern Ireland’s Agreement. There was an impasse until 1998 because of intransigence on the part of both Irish republicans and unionists. External agents played an important and constructive role in ending this impasse.67 The most important influence, outside the region if not the state, was, of course, the UK government. After a brief fling with the idea of integrating Northern Ireland with Great Britain in the late 1970s, London moved away from this option, inconsistently.68 Unionists had considered direct rule – not radically different from an integrated United Kingdom – as preferable to the risks of a powersharing settlement with nationalists. But in December 1985, the UK government abandoned unalloyed direct rule from Westminster. In the “AngloIrish Agreement,” the Republic of Ireland was given a role in policy making in Northern Ireland, including comprehensive consultative rights. This role was accompanied by the promise that the new intergovernmental conference would decline in salience if a power-sharing agreement on a devolved government could be reached between nationalists and unionists.69 The UK’s default policy had shifted toward cooperation with Dublin in and over the region. Unionists feared this shift would be irreversible and deepened in the absence of agreement between Northern Irish parties. Margaret Thatcher had several reasons for signing the Anglo-Irish Agreement, but pressure from the United States was important. From the 66

67

68

69

Lijphart’s view on external intervention was shared by Nordlinger, who thought the desire to ward off external enemies was one of four crucial motivations conducive toward elite power sharing, but who explicitly omitted the inclusion of “reliance upon third parties as neutral arbitrators, mediators, or experts” from his list of conflict-regulating practices. Such intervention, according to Nordlinger was “rarely applied,” “generally ineffective,” or could be subsumed within his other categories; Conflict Regulation in Divided Societies, p. 32. Endogenous factors were also important, particularly demographic change. The Protestant share of Northern Ireland’s population is in decline, and sits currently around 55 per cent. There is a possibility, and an even stronger perception, that there will be a Catholic majority at some point; see, for instance, B. O’Leary (1990) “More Green, fewer Orange,” Fortnight 281 and 282, pp. 12–15, 16–17; B. O’Leary (1997) “Unionists will lose electoral dominance,” The Irish Times, July 2. This shift undercut unionists’ enthusiasm for local majoritarian democracy and increased their strategic interest in power sharing. B. O’Leary (1997) “The Conservative stewardship of Northern Ireland 1979–97: Soundbottomed contradictions or slow learning,” Political Studies 45(4), 663–76; B. O’Leary, “The Labour government and Northern Ireland 1974–79,” in McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 194–216. O’Leary, “The Anglo-Irish Agreement: Folly or statecraft?”

Argument

39

early 1980s, leading US politicians, prompted by the Irish government and Irish Americans, encouraged Great Britain to cooperate more closely with Ireland, and President Ronald Reagan, whom Thatcher respected, put his personal clout behind this message. American pressure therefore prepared the groundwork for 1998, even before Bill Clinton was elected president in 1992. There was no immediate generation of consociation through the coercive inducements of the Anglo-Irish Agreement because unionists thought they could destroy the Agreement through protest. But the intergovernmental conference proved durable. Unionists hoped the Anglo-Irish Agreement could be resisted or incrementally reversed under Thatcher’s successor, John Major, especially during the 1992–97 parliament when Major’s government depended on unionist support in the House of Commons.70 It would not be until Labour’s landslide victory in the Westminster elections of May 1997 that the Ulster Unionist Party began to negotiate seriously with nationalists, and after the new prime minister Tony Blair signalled that he was committed to achieving a settlement within his first year of office.71 The United States and Irish America played a constructive role in the promotion of the Anglo-Irish Agreement,72 and an even more significant role in the making of the 1998 Agreement. The end of the Cold War in 1991 freed US presidents from traditional constraints about interfering in the UK’s internal affairs, and left them more inclined to listen to Irish-American lobbies. The US gave unprecedented attention to Northern Ireland in the 1990s, especially when President Clinton took office in 1992.73 He approved an indirect collective envoy, the Morrison delegation, which visited Ireland and met all parties during the early stages of the peace process (we advised this delegation). Clinton put several senior officials to work on Northern Ireland, including the national security adviser Anthony Lake, and the president visited the region three times in five years. Northern Ireland’s political leaders were given open access to the White House. Clinton persuaded former Senate majority leader George Mitchell to chair first an economic initiative, then a crucial commission to arbitrate disputes between the UK and Irish governments over the decommissioning of paramilitary weapons and the timing of all-party negotiations, and then to preside over the final 70

71

72

73

The option of integration, which had been abandoned since 1979, was reconsidered during the Major years. See O’Leary, “The Conservative stewardship of Northern Ireland 1979–97.” B. O’Leary (2001) “The Belfast Agreement and the Labour government: How to handle and mishandle history’s hand,” in A. Seldon (ed.), The Blair Effect: The Blair Government 1997–2001, London, Little, Brown, pp. 448–88. P. Arthur (1991) “Diasporan intervention in international affairs: Irish America as a case study,” Diaspora 1(2), 143–61; P. Arthur (2000) Special Relationships: Britain, Ireland and the Northern Ireland Problem, Belfast, Blackstaff; M. Cox (1997) “Bringing in the ‘international’: The IRA ceasefire and the end of the Cold War,” International Affairs 73(4), 671–93; A. Guelke (1996) “The United States, Irish Americans and the Northern Ireland peace process,” International Affairs 72(3), 521–36. C. O’Clery (1996) The Greening of the White House: The Inside Story of How America Tried to Bring Peace to Ireland, Dublin, Gill & Macmillan.

40

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

negotiations that led to the Agreement.74 The president intervened personally and productively in the political negotiations on several occasions.75 American diplomatic involvement increased the confidence of Irish republicans about the merits of negotiations. A 1994 document on the peace strategy, TUAS,76 was explicit about the importance of the American role, noting that “there is potentially a very powerful Irish-American lobby not in hock to any particular party in Britain or Ireland” and that “Clinton is perhaps the first US president in decades to be influenced by such a lobby.”77 Washington shored up the position of the Irish government in its negotiations with Great Britain, and that of constitutional nationalists led by John Hume of the SDLP. The US decision in early 1994 to issue a visa to Sinn Féin leader Gerry Adams is credited with carrying hard-line Irish republicans behind his peace strategy.78 Adams himself claimed that it brought forward by one year the IRA ceasefire, which occurred in August 1994. The ceasefire was a prerequisite for the possibility of comprehensive and inclusive negotiations. While the Clinton administration’s role in coaxing republicans into negotiating is widely acknowledged, it is less often noted that it managed this task without alienating all unionists, who were given unprecedented access to the White House, and the administration was careful to appear impartial throughout. (One of us personally witnessed a loyalist paramilitary leader convicted of murders and Irish republicans convicted of bombing offences happily enjoying the White House’s environs 74

75 76

77

78

G. C. Mitchell (2000) Making Peace, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press; G. C. Mitchell, J. de Chastelain, and H. Holkeri (1996) Report of the International Body on Arms Decommissioning (The Mitchell Report), Dublin and London, www.nio.gov.uk/iicd_report_22 jan96.pdf M. Cox (1999) “The war that came in from the cold,” World Policy Journal 16(1), 59–67. TUAS was, reputedly, an acronym for either “Totally UnArmed Strategy” or “Tactical Use of Armed Struggle,” but its exact meaning was never officially spelled out. One journalist, who believes in the Machiavellian qualities of the Sinn Féin leadership, argues that it told the SDLP and the Irish government that it meant the former, and republican activists that it meant the latter; E. Moloney (2002) A Secret History of the IRA, London, Penguin, p. 423. Loyalists and unionists, and those who believed that republicans could spell, thought it meant the latter, particularly after the IRA broke its ceasefire in 1996. American supporters of Sinn Féin thought it meant the former. One website we came across lists it as neither, apparently the true meaning was “tactical use of absolute stupidity.” R. MacGinty (1997) “American influences on the Northern Ireland peace process,” Journal of Conflict Studies 17(2), 34. The complaints of the State Department were spearheaded by the US ambassador to the UK, Raymond Seitz, who complained bitterly at the overturning of his counsel at the time, and in his memoirs. See R. Seitz (1998) Over Here, London, Trafalgar Square. More extensive analyses of the exogenous factors that led to the Good Friday Agreement are available. See, for example, A. Guelke (2001) “International dimensions of the Belfast Agreement,” in R. Wilford (ed.) Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 245– 63; J. McGarry (2001) “Globalization, European integration and the Northern Ireland conflict,” in M. Keating and J. McGarry (eds) Minority Nationalism and the Changing International Order, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 295–324; B. O’Leary (2002) “The Belfast Agreement and the British–Irish Agreement: Consociation, confederal institutions, a federacy, and a peace process,” in A. Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy, pp. 293–356.

Argument

41

in May 1995 and March 1998.) The UUP leader David Trimble acknowledged that reassurances from Clinton helped convince him to sign the Agreement.79 Benign exogenous action has facilitated power-sharing settlements elsewhere, not just in Northern Ireland. The US, the United Nations, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, and the EU, using their good offices, sanctions, incentives, and military powers, have played pivotal roles in promoting (or establishing) power-sharing institutions in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Macedonia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Whether these prove enduring or not, it is extraordinarily difficult to imagine stable settlements in any of these countries without outside intervention. Perhaps early consociational theory neglected a benign or at least activist role for outsiders in the promotion of power sharing because it was initially developed during the Cold War when such interventions were rare.80 However, interventions, orchestrated especially by the US and the EU, have become more frequent, and there is a need to think about their impact on the viability of consociations.81 Outsiders can play positive roles, and tip the balance in favour of negotiated or induced agreements.82 This does not mean that externally induced settlements are necessarily better than those produced without any external intervention. Settlements reached primarily under international pressure may have shallow domestic foundations, as with the externally imposed Dayton Accords in Bosnia-Herzegovina, the “Annan Plan” for Cyprus, and, before that, the Cyprus power-sharing settlement of 1960–63. We do not think the Northern Ireland Agreement would have been signed, at least in its extant form, particularly by unionists, without external pressures. This has been one 79

80

81

82

Personal communication from Andrew Wilson, who interviewed Trimble on this matter. See A. Wilson (1997) “From Beltway to Belfast: The Clinton Administration, Sinn Féin, and the Northern Ireland peace process,” New Hibernia Review 1(3), 23–39; A. Wilson (2000) “The Billy Boys meet Slick Willy: The Ulster Unionist Party and the American dimension to the Northern Ireland peace process, 1993–98,” Policy Studies Journal 11, 121–36. The exceptions to this rule were analyses of the Lebanon – the arrangements for which were known to be crucially affected by regional politics. The destabilization of Lebanon’s consociation in the 1970s powerfully shows the possible impact of malign external interventions. See T. Hanf (1993) Coexistence in Wartime Lebanon: Decline of a State and Rise of a Nation, London, I. B. Tauris. We are wary of the argument that there is an irreversible trend towards benign international intervention. Intervention is often shaped by geopolitical ambitions and security considerations rather than normative concerns. Thus, while several oppressed nationalities have recently derived benefits from the attention of outsiders, others, such as the Palestinians or Chechens, have not fared so well. Ted Gurr (2000) has pointed to an emerging regime of benign intervention in the post-Cold War era, but there have been countervailing pressures since September 11, 2001; Peoples versus States: Minorities at Risk in the New Century, Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace Press. In this new environment, governments that have been successful in depicting minority rebels as terrorists have received less Western scrutiny, as in Chechnya, Spain’s Basque country, and the Kingdom of Nepal – see M. Heiberg, B. O’Leary, and J. Tirman (eds) (2007) Terror, Insurgency and the State, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press. Michael’s Kerr’s PhD, now published (2005) as Imposing Power-Sharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, maintains outside intervention has been decisive in the two cases he explores in depth.

42

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

source of fragility. A large number of unionists, led by the DUP, initially rejected the Agreement, as did significant numbers of unionist voters. Early consociational theory also neglected the possibilities of positive roles for outsiders in the implementation and in the active operation of power-sharing settlements. Numerous outsiders have been at the heart of the Agreement’s implementation. The European Court of Human Rights performs a role in the protection of human rights in Northern Ireland. A Canadian judge, Justice Peter Cory, has been involved in uncovering evidence of collusion between the security forces and Protestant paramilitaries. Canadian general John de Chastelain oversaw the decommissioning of paramilitary weapons and disarmament. IRA acts of decommissioning were also witnessed by the former Finnish president Martti Ahtisaari and Cyril Ramaphosa of the African National Congress. Proposing police reform was organized by an independent commission, with representation from the US and Canada, as well as Great Britain and Ireland. Overseeing the implementation of policing reforms has been the responsibility of an American, Tom Constantine, and then a Canadian, Al Hutchinson. Amid continuing difficulties in achieving full implementation of the Agreement, in the “Joint Declaration,” released on May 1, 2003, the sovereign governments of the UK and Ireland proposed international representation on an Independent Monitoring Commission, tasked with putting paramilitary activity under surveillance, and formulating sanctions against political parties associated with offending organizations. The four-person body comprised two members nominated by the UK government (one from Northern Ireland), a member nominated by the Irish government, and a fourth nominated by the American administration. Conceived outside of the Agreement, by 2006–7 it played an important role in persuading unionist leaders and their supporters that the IRA was intent on avoiding paramilitary and criminal activities, and helped the DUP to enter, for the first time, into serious negotiations with Sinn Féin on power sharing, and ultimately to reach agreement in March 2007.83 This extensive external involvement, which could be further elaborated, mirrors developments in power-sharing settlements elsewhere, notably in the Balkans. In short, the implementation and operation of consociational settlements should no longer be considered the internal preserve of sovereign independent states. Intervention, even if well-meaning, may not produce positive results. Great Britain’s security and political interventions in Northern Ireland between 1969 and 1985 did little to promote political progress.84 Even after 1998 London’s contribution was uneven. While Britain’s binational and bi-governmental approach helped secure the Agreement, London moved away from this framework under Secretary of State Peter Mandelson in 2000. During his term in office, terminated by scandal, the UK government was tardy in its approach to the reform of the administration of justice and in encouraging a new 83 84

Its reports may be found on its website: www.independentmonitoringcommission.org O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, 2nd edn.

Argument

43

human-rights regime. It badly mishandled policing reform in 2000, and in the same year passed the Northern Ireland Act 2000, in breach of the UK’s treaty obligations with the Irish government. The Act was subsequently to suspend both the institutions of the Agreement and legally scheduled elections – against the express wishes of the Irish government. Mandelson’s actions were an attempt to save unionist moderates, but had the effect of antagonizing nationalists, especially republicans, and postponing progress on decommissioning.85 Fortunately, his term in office was brief, and the UK government effectively repudiated his approach to security and to the issue of self-determination under his successors Paul Murphy, John Reid, and Peter Hain. After 2003, the UK government got back on track. It crafted measures aimed at facilitating republican decommissioning, and at promoting support for power sharing among unionist parties. In September 2004, Blair indicated that the failure of Northern Ireland’s parties to agree on power sharing would result in both governments adopting a different, unspecified approach.86 In April 2006, London and Dublin announced that British–Irish cooperation would increase significantly if there was no deal on power sharing by November; it would represent, as the official communiqué put it, a “step change in advancing North–South cooperation and action for the benefit of all.”87 This statement reinforced the message, implicit in the Anglo-Irish Agreement and the 1998 Agreement, that the default to power sharing was no longer simply direct rule, but direct rule with an increasingly green hue. The threat of this “plan B” was repeated at regular intervals by both governments, and particularly by Secretary of State Peter Hain, who earned himself the epithet “Hain the pain” in consequence.88 The DUP was faced, not just with a greater role for Dublin in Northern Ireland’s affairs, but also, given Sinn Féin’s increased popularity in the Republic, the possibility that it would be helping to formulate Irish government policy.89 Ian Paisley subsequently 85

86 87

88

89

Recent interviews with Mandelson confirm that his actions were motivated by an ideologically unionist mindset, one that operated on the premise that the IRA had been defeated and that republicans did not require accommodation; “Mandelson recording released,” The Guardian, March 13, 2007. “Blair hints at ‘plan B’ for Northern Ireland,” Daily Telegraph, September 8, 2004. “Joint Statement by the Prime Minister and the Taoiseach,” Armagh, April 6, 2006 (www. nio.gov.uk/media-detail.htm?newsID=12944). See also “Threat of a green-tinged Stormont as Blair raises the heat on Paisley,” The Independent, April 7, 2006. “Hain repeats warning on deadline,” BBC News, March 12, 2007, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/ northern_ireland/6440059.stm; and see P. Hain (2007) “This time, it’s we who will say ‘No surrender,’” The Guardian, March 11, 2007. The day before Assembly elections in March 2007, the Taoiseach warned the Northern Ireland’s parties that “the British and Irish governments have agreed a blueprint for running the North if there is no agreement on a power sharing executive by the end of this month”: “Ahern warns NI parties on cost of failure,” The Irish Times, March 6, 2007. We predicted the Sinn Féin–DUP pact and the circumstances that would facilitate it: “[The DUP] may well be prepared to take up the offer [of the First Ministership] in return for transparent decommissioning and effective disbandment by the IRA, particularly if the

44

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

explained that the danger of increased British–Irish cooperation persuaded him to accept power sharing with Sinn Féin.90 Hain increased the attractions of the restoration of the Northern Ireland Assembly by making direct rule unpopular, particularly among unionists. He promised the abolition of academic selection at age 11, reforms to public administration that would reduce the number of local councils from 26 to 7 and public bodies from 154 to 75, and expensive water rates and a doubling of household rates (home property taxes) to British levels. The message was that these would be “driven forward” by direct-rule ministers if there was no deal between the local parties.91 The then UK chancellor, and later prime minister, Gordon Brown, and the Irish government sugared the DUP’s pills, and promised a lucrative financial package in the event of an Agreement.92 It is very unlikely that these sticks and carrots would have induced the DUP to share power with Sinn Féin if the IRA had not decommissioned and if Sinn Féin had not embraced the police.93 But the firm policy postures and inducements by the two governments were productive and confirm the positive role that outside parties can play in facilitating power-sharing agreements.94

90

91

92

93

94

alternative is government by a strengthened British–Irish Intergovernmental Conference,” see especially McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 26–43, 48–54. “I’m not really such an ogre, Paisley tells nationalists,” Irish Independent, April 6, 2007. Paisley explained: “We were told that if we didn’t do this, then it was going to be curtains for our country.” He asked how he would have faced the people if he had “allowed this country to have the union (with Britain) destroyed and the setting up of joint government by the South of Ireland?” P. Hain (2006) “Our message to the North,” The Guardian, April 6. We do not claim credit for the government’s approach, but we did advocate a similar one; see McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 41–42. The Chancellor offered an extra £1 billion for infrastructure development, which could be used to defer water charges, and proposed a committee to review the differentials in corporation tax between Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic, while the Dublin government offered £400 million for infrastructural development. Unionists as well as nationalists in Northern Ireland now agree on the benefits of harmonizing Northern Ireland’s corporate tax rate with that of the Republic of Ireland. “Brown announces £1bn fund for NI,” RTE News, March 22, 2007, www.rte.ie/news/2007/0322/northpolitics.html We reject the crude materialist explanation of the DUP’s decision to enter power sharing contained in the Irish Independent: “Nothing would make it easier for the DUP to announce a victory, and to sell to its followers the imperative need to go into government (even with republicans) in order to claim it, than a once in a lifetime chance to spend a sizeable capital sum from the British Treasury,” “How long will it take DUP to make a final leap of faith,” March 12, 2007. Paul Arthur thinks that the strong role played by outsiders in promoting consociations makes “one wonder if there is still a case to be made on behalf of the consociational model”; P. Arthur (2006) “Review of Imposing power-sharing,” Nations and Nationalism 12(4), 709. This begs numerous questions, including: Why do outsiders choose to promote consociation in the first place if they do not think it appropriate? and suggests that the making and maintenance of consociations is incompatible with a facilitative role by outsiders. The evidence of Northern Ireland’s functioning institutions strongly suggests that Arthur’s disillusionment with consociation was premature.

Argument

45

Security and consociation Within the internal state-centric approach favoured in traditional consociational accounts, there has been an overly narrow focus on the design of, and need for agreement on, political institutions, such as legislatures, executives, and electoral systems. Less attention has been paid, by contrast, to issues common to violently divided places or those transiting from war to peace; namely the design of the police and security forces, the handling of paramilitary offenders, the demilitarization of both state and paramilitary forces, the integration of former paramilitaries into the workforce, transitional justice processes (such as truth commissions), the return of exiles and the management of refugees, new human-rights protection mechanisms, economic reconstruction, and provisions for monitoring ceasefires. This shortcoming is important, because security agreements must underpin peace processes and political settlements. It too is connected to the genesis of consociational theory in the small European democracies, which were not nationally or violently divided in recent times. In Northern Ireland, the rival parties disagreed more strongly on security questions than on the design of the political institutions. For Irish republicans, a fully legitimate police service and British army demilitarization were vital parts of any settlement. For Ulster unionists, it was equally important that the IRA completely abandon its armed struggle and decommission its arsenal, and that Sinn Féin endorse the police. There was no resolution of these issues at the time of the Agreement. The provisions on decommissioning stated that the parties that informally represented paramilitary organizations in the negotiations were to “use any influence they may have, to achieve the decommissioning of all paramilitary arms within 2 years following endorsement in referendums North and South of the agreement and in the context of the implementation of the overall settlement,” specifically by May 2000.95 The parties agreed the terms of reference of an independent police commission, that included a commitment to a police service that was representative of the population, nationally impartial, human-rights observing, and routinely unarmed.96 But they expected strikingly different outcomes from the commission. The Agreement contained a general commitment to demilitarization on the part of the British government, a return to “normal” defence arrangements, and the scaling down of British troop numbers and fortifications, but these changes, to take place “as early as possible,” were linked to judgements of paramilitary activity. There was no timetable.97 These security issues destabilized the initial trials with the consociational institutions. Unionist politicians were divided between those who insisted that Sinn Féin be excluded from government until the IRA decommissioned, 95 96 97

The Agreement, Decommissioning, para. 3. The Agreement, Policing and Justice, para. 4. The Agreement, Security, paras 1–4.

46

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

and those who insisted that the IRA decommission shortly after Sinn Féin took its Executive positions. This created a classic outbidding scenario within the UUP, in which its leader David Trimble first resisted the initiation of the institutions until December 1999, some 19 months after the Agreement, and then issued an ultimatum that he would collapse the institutions, through resigning his premiership, unless the IRA decommissioned. Trimble’s position had been weakened by the report of the Patten Commission, which presaged important – and necessary – changes to policing, and it was in this context that Mandelson suspended the institutions and failed to fulfil the UK government’s commitments on Patten. Sinn Féin dragged its feet over assuming its responsibilities under the Agreement to secure IRA decommissioning. Its recalcitrance was partly because the Agreement did not state when decommissioning had to begin, and had proposed its completion only amid the implementation of other parts of the Agreement – including British army demilitarization, radical policing and justice reform, respect for the provisions on self-determination, and a commitment by unionists to work the political institutions. During the period from 2000, but especially from 2003 to 2007, the security issues were slowly and successfully dealt with. More robust policing reform was delivered through an amended Police Act (Northern Ireland) 2000, and by the Police Act (Northern Ireland) 2003, which strengthened the powers of the Policing Board. In the Joint Declaration of 2003, the British government promised to support the devolution of policing and justice powers, providing it was agreed to by local parties. It detailed steps towards “normalization of security arrangements,” i.e. demilitarization, over a defined time frame between then and April 2005, and promised to repeal the Northern Ireland Act 2000 (the “Suspension” Act). These “acts of completion” by the UK government were to be implemented amid matching acts by paramilitaries, including decommissioning and an end to violent and criminal activity, and Sinn Féin’s acceptance of the police and its taking of its positions on the Policing Board. IRA decommissioning followed in July of 2005, and Sinn Féin’s acceptance of the police in January of 2007. In October of 2006, and again in March of 2007, the Independent Monitoring Commission reported that the IRA had “abandoned” terrorism and violence and was “firmly committed to the political path,”98 paving the way for the Sinn Féin–DUP pact on power sharing.

98

“We believe that it [the IRA] is firmly committed to the political path. It is not engaged in terrorist activity; nor in our view does it contemplate any return to it. Its operational structures have been disbanded and, in the absence of activity, the deterioration of terrorist capability continues. The organization does not engage in acts of violence and has instructed its members not to do so. The leadership continues to encourage members to undertake political or community activities”: 14th Report of the Independent Monitoring Commission, March 12, 2007, www.independentmonitoringcommission.org/documents/uploads/14th_IMC_Report.pdf

Argument

47

Security concerns are important in all polities that have endured violent conflict, and where there has been no military victory. It is better if agreement is reached on security-related concerns at the same time as a political settlement, and it is not always a good thing, as Horowitz suggests, to engage in gradualism – to leave controversial issues until later.99 But simultaneous agreement on security and political questions may not be possible. When that is so, Northern Ireland’s experience confirms the value of reciprocal confidence building, with concessions from one side clearly linked to concessions by the other, accompanied, ideally, by a clear timetable. Neither side loses face, trust is promoted, and each has an incentive to deliver its side of the bargain. Reciprocity was implicit in the Agreement, but there was a failure to spell out details, including the exact nature of the changes to be made by the different parties, and the precise dates by which they would be made.100 So, both republicans, unionists, and the British government were reluctant to take the first step. The embrace of reciprocal confidence building implicit in the Joint Declaration of 2003 facilitated progress. Exponents of consociation have often neglected security issues.101 But, political instability cannot always be blamed on consociational institutions, as it tends to be by integrationist critics. Had the security questions been better managed it was not inevitable that the institutions would have been so fragile between 1999 and 2003. The belated but careful management of these questions has now stabilized the political institutions.

Consociation and its critics: on stability, fairness, and democracy Vigorous debate is recurrently waged between consociationalists and their integrationist and centripetalist critics, as readers of this volume will attest. We think key evaluative differences arise over the stability, fairness, and democratic qualities of the rival prescriptions. Stability The critics’ descriptions of post-Agreement Northern Ireland usually emphasize instability, including violence, social and political polarization. The Agreement is squarely blamed for these traits: the electoral system, Horowitz, “The Agreement,” pp. 103–105. The political parties were obliged under the terms of the Agreement to use their influence to secure paramilitary decommissioning by May 2000, in the context of the Agreement’s implementation. The government was obliged to demilitarize, reform the police, and otherwise implement the Agreement, but there were no deadlines for its compliance. The Agreement stated that an independent commission on policing should report by September 1999, but did not say when or if its recommendations would be implemented. 101 We did not neglect these questions. We researched and wrote (1999) Policing Northern Ireland: Proposals for a New Start, Belfast, Blackstaff, which was generously received by the Patten Commission. 99

100

48

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

which allegedly promoted intra-ethnic outbidding; the allegedly “mandatory nature” of the Executive, which included radical hardliners as well as moderates in government;102 the “appeasement” of violent republicans; and its allegedly elitist, ethnocentric, and segregationist nature. The critics write of a flawed, or even of a comprehensively “failed” peace process.103 Robin Wilson noted in 1999 that 1998, the year of the Agreement, was far more lethally violent than the preceding three, and the same as 1985, before the “peace” process began.104 In 2003, he and Rick Wilford argued that the number of violent incidents were “on a rising trend” and that there had been no “peace dividend.”105 By 2006, they noted a decline in violence, but claimed that this “was not because of the Agreement,” as it occurred in the context of the suspension of the Agreement’s institutions.106 Rupert Taylor in 2006 declared that a “sustainable peace is not in sight.”107 Violence was accompanied by social polarization, according to many of the same thinkers. Sectarian divisions at the societal level were, according to Rick Wilford and Robin Wilson, Donald Horowitz, Jonathan Hari, and Paidraig O’Malley, either “as wide as ever”;108 as “strong as ever”;109 “as polarized as ever”;110 “growing”;111 “worse”;112 or “wider than Critics of “grand coalition” describe it as “compulsory” and their preferred option of a minimum-winning coalition as “voluntary”; Horowitz, “The Northern Ireland Agreement,” p. 94. Patrick Roche describes the new Agreement’s Executive arrangements as an “involuntary coalition brought together on the basis of a mechanical principle (outside the control of the Assembly)”; “A Stormont without policy,” Belfast Telegraph, March 30, 2000. Dennis Kennedy insists that it is a “nonvoluntary coalition”; “Evidence is growing that Agreement did not work,” The Irish Times, February 16, 2000. Such language is loaded, and incorrect. Participation in Northern Ireland’s Executive is voluntary. Any party with entitlements to nominate ministers may choose not to take its seats: no party is required to enter government. What Horowitz, Roche, and Kennedy may mean by a “voluntary” coalition is one in which some parties to the coalition should be free to exclude others (e.g. the DUP or Sinn Féin). We think it is fair to describe the Northern Ireland Executive as inclusionary (rather than compulsory), and to code a minimum-winning coalition as exclusionary. A number of the Agreement’s critics focus on the d’Hondt formula, the mathematical algorithm that is used to assign executive seats, as the key to instability. For Kennedy, “What demonstrably cannot work is the d’Hondt system of involuntary coalition government”; Kennedy, “Evidence is growing.” G. Gudgin wrote in 2003 that the “key” to stability involved replacing “the d’Hondt rules with an alternative approach that permits voluntary, cross-community coalitions”; “Time to tackle Agreement flaws because current rules just d’Hondt work,” Belfast Telegraph, December 12, 2003. 103 G. K. Peatling (2004) The Failure of the Northern Ireland Peace Process, Dublin, Irish Academic Press. 104 Wilson, “Making the Agreement stick,” p. 20. 105 Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” pp. 9–10. 106 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 18. 107 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 218. 108 Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” p. 5. 109 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 3. 110 R. Wilson (2005) “Back to the future,” Boston Globe, May 8. 111 D. L. Horowitz (2005) “Foreword,” in O’Flynn and Russell (eds) Power-Sharing, p. vii. 112 J. Hari (2007) “Blair may have finally seduced Paisley – but that still leaves an Ulster as divided as ever,” The Independent, March 26. 102

Argument

49

ever.”113 The critics also pointed to political instability, particularly that it took 19 months after the Agreement to get the institutions established, only for them to be suspended on four subsequent occasions.114 Even when “working,” the institutions were said to have had a “bare-knuckle ride,” and to have produced “chopped up” rather than “joined-up” government.115 Northern Ireland’s dual party system descended, apparently, into a classic pattern of intra-ethnic outbidding, leading to inter-ethnic political polarization, and what Anthony Oberschall and Kendall Palmer described as “the failure of moderate politics.”116 In the Assembly elections of May 2003, and again in the Westminster elections of May 2005, the SDLP and UUP lost their bloc leadership positions to the DUP and Sinn Féin, respectively, while two small “centrist” parties, the Alliance Party and the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition, were politically marginalized.117 The elections of the new century were said to have become “increasingly divisive affairs,”118 and to reflect a “victory of the extremes”;119 “growing political extremism”;120 and “a dramatic shift to more polarized communal politics.”121 This, we were told, would make decommissioning, Sinn Féin’s acceptance of the police, or any decision by Sinn Féin and the DUP to share power, unlikely.122 Even after the IRA had decommissioned in 2005, Taylor noted that “it seems an easy point to score P. O’Malley (2007) “Paisley’s politics pays off,” Boston Globe, March 27. Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 218. See also, Wilson, “Back to the future.” 115 R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2000) “A ‘bare knuckle ride’: Northern Ireland,” in R. Hazel (ed.) The State and the Nations, Thorverton, Imprint Academic, pp. 79–116; Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 22. 116 Oberschall and Palmer, “The failure of moderate politics.” 117 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 219. 118 O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 142. 119 H. Patterson (2005) “What victory of the extremes means for all of us,” Irish Independent, May 7. 120 Oberschall and Palmer, “The failure of moderate politics,” p. 81. 121 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 219. 122 Unionist integrationist Patrick Roche argued in 2000 that the IRA had “absolutely no intention” of decommissioning; Roche, “A Stormont without policy.” Peter Neumann argued that republicans had “no reason” to accept constitutional or peaceful politics, because they knew they could extract far more from the British government by maintaining their military capacities than could be justified on the basis of Sinn Féin’s electoral mandate: “As long as this remains the case, there is a potentially fatal asymmetry in the peace process that benefits the fringes rather than the moderate centre, and that might well endanger the achievement of the aim of political stability that London has pursued throughout the troubles in Northern Ireland”; P. Neumann (2003) “Bringing in the rogues: Political violence, the British government and Sinn Féin,” Terrorism and Political Violence 15(3), p. 169. In a 2005 review of our work, which accepted that an inclusive consociation was the best way to stabilize Northern Ireland, Richard Bourke noted that the dissolution of the IRA had turned out to be a “deluded expectation”; that “the political extremes have not undergone conspicuous moderation as they steadily came to enjoy the benefits of inclusion. Instead they have corrupted the very processes which were supposed to lead towards moderation.” Bourke saw the “ambitious project of a power-sharing agreement … to have been altogether premature”; R. Bourke (2005) “Towards an Irish consensus?” Political Quarterly 76(3), 459–61. 113 114

50

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

against consociationalists: the rise in electoral support for the ‘hardliners’ does little to raise the prospects of reinstituting Executive level power sharing.”123 After Sinn Féin had endorsed the PSNI in January 2007, and the DUP and Sinn Féin had agreed to share power in March, critics continued to argue that power sharing would not happen.124 And after power sharing recommenced in 2007, the critics condemned its “sectarian” basis and argued that it could not be stable: it “would not work” in Kevin Myers’ opinion, and would “inevitably fail” in the view of Republican Sinn Féin.125 We suspect that only ten years of peace and quiet and the therapy of stable institutions will persuade the analysts we have just cited to acknowledge that they may have been wrong. What we wish to emphasize here is not just the empirically unjustified judgement of many critics, but that some of the instability they decried arguably flowed from flawed institutional rules, primarily those relating to the First and Deputy First Ministerships, which were arguably more “centripetalist” than “consociational.”126 That the dual Henry Patterson noted in December 2004 that “there is no thirst for the return of devolved institutions in the unionist community where an increasing number find direct rule, even with an Irish input, preferable to devolution with Martin McGuinness as a potential DFM”; “Paisley won’t risk DUP dominance for partial deal,” Irish Independent, December 14. In May 2005 Patterson claimed that the obstacles to the attainment of SF–DUP power sharing were so “stark” as to make this a “fantasy,” and advised his readers that “those who have had nightmares about a province run by a cartel of religious fundamentalists and only partially reconstructed paramilitaries can sleep easily for at least a few more years”: Patterson, “What victory of the extremes means.” Robin Wilson argued in 2005 that “Protestants now overwhelmingly reject the presence in government of Sinn Féin, given its association with the IRA” (Wilson, “Back to the future”), while in 2006 in an article which suggested the need for major revisions to the Agreement, he and Rick Wilford argued that republicans remained deeply involved in a “criminal informal economy,” and that Sinn Féin showed “no sign” of supporting the PSNI (“From the Belfast Agreement,” pp. 3, 10). 123 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 220. O’Flynn thought that the electoral polarization “signaled diminishing prospects and failing hopes for inter-communal accommodation and political stability”; O’Flynn, “The problem of recognizing individual and national identities,” p. 142. 124 Three weeks before the DUP–Sinn Féin pact, Conor Cruise O’Brien wrote (2007) that a deal was “not on,” and “never was on”: “Planned Islam ban signals new Dutch intolerance,” Irish Independent, March 3. A couple of days before the pact, O’Brien (2007) wrote, “I have known Paisley now for about 50 years … for the past 20 years we have been good friends and still are. I am quite sure he is not going to do a deal with the British and Irish governments, despite their copious hints to the contrary. I think the most sensible advisers to the two governments are already resigned to that”: “Paisley’s decision won’t be any surprise to me,” Irish Independent, March 24. Kevin Myers wrote (2007) two days after the DUP–Sinn Féin pact was announced that there was as much chance of the two parties resuming power sharing on the designated May 8 as of “Dana [the diminutive Irish female singer] becoming heavyweight wrestling champion of the world”: “This latest Northern deferral is part of the dance of deception,” Irish Independent, March 28. 125 K. Myers, “This latest Northern deferral”; R. D. Edwards (2007) “A historic day – but for all the wrong reasons,” Daily Telegraph, March 27; McIntyre, “The man without the mask”; Republican Sinn Féin (2007) “No new era yet,” The Blanket, March 26. 126 McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 28–29.

Argument

51

premiers initially depended for their election on the support of the other bloc was a device closer to centripetalist than consociational thinking – because it encouraged each bloc to nominate candidates acceptable to the other side. The same was true of the capacity of one premier to trigger the departure of both from office through a unilateral resignation.127 But we also have a more empirical response to the criticism of post-Agreement instability. Any assessment of the Agreement’s impact must compare post-Agreement Northern Ireland with the pre-Agreement period, before then comparing the Agreement’s actual effects with the postulated possible impacts of its main integrationist and centripetalist alternatives. We think it is straightforwardly true that the Agreement, consociational in its prefiguration and in its content, and in its renewal, and with all of its attendant difficulties, is clearly causally associated with a highly significant reduction in political violence. According to police sources lethal political violence dropped from 509 killed in the nine years before the Agreement (1989–97) to 134 in the nine years during its making and after (1998–2006), a decline of three-quarters.128 While 105 members of the security forces were killed in the earlier period, only two were killed in the later period, both in 1998. Not one member of the security services has been killed in political violence since. Northern Ireland was one of the most dangerous places in the democratic world to be a police officer during the 1970s and 1980s; it is now, arguably, one of the safest. The raw data, moreover, may exaggerate our sense of lethal political violence in the post-Agreement period. A significant proportion of those killed since the Agreement, 29 out of 134, died in the Omagh bombing of August 1998, planted by republican integrationist opponents of the Agreement, and which utterly discredited the Real IRA. The raw data do not differentiate violence between the communities from violence within each of them, when only the former may be a fair indicator of “ethnic” conflict. We have researched the 121 deaths between the beginning of 1998 and March of 2007, in which the identity of the perpetrators is widely accepted. Of these, 80, representing 66 per cent of the total, were “within community” (i.e. republicans killing Catholics and, more often, loyalists killing Protestants) (see Table 1.1). By recent standards a relatively small 41 deaths, representing 34 per cent of the post-Agreement deaths, are the result of cross-community lethal violence. Since January 2003, as far as we have been able to determine, there has been no death from such cross-community conflict. Internecine 127

The rules for nominating the co-premiers have been altered by the Northen Ireland (St Andrews Agreement) Act 2006, which gives the right to nominate the First Minister to the largest party in the Assembly. When the largest party is not also the largest party in the largest designation, the Deputy First Minister is to be nominated by the latter. This is the functional equivalent of what we recommended in “Stabilizing Northern Ireland’s Agreement,” published in 2004 and sent to the two governments. 128 Police Service of Northern Ireland, “Security statistics,” www.psni.police.uk/index/statistics_ branch/pg_security_stats.htm

52

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Table 1.1 Conflict-related deaths in Northern Ireland (victims and alleged perpetrators), 1998 to March 2007* 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007** Catholics killed by loyalists

14

1

1

4

2

1

0

0

0

0

Catholics killed by republicans

16

4

3

1

0

3

0

2

0

2

Protestants killed by republicans

15

0

1

1

1

0

0

0

0

0

Protestants killed by loyalists

3

2

13

8

7.#

7

3

6

0

0

Catholics killed by unknowns

1

1.‡

1.§

1

3

2

1

2.^

0

0

Protestants killed by unknowns

0

0

0

0

3

0

0

0

2

0

Others killed

6.^^ 0

0

1

0

0

0

0

0

0

19

15

16

13

4

10

4

2

Total

†

55.

8

Source: Malcolm Sutton, An Index of Deaths from the Conflict in Northern Ireland, CAIN Web Service (http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/sutton/chron/index.html). Data from 2002 until 2007 compiled by Martin Melaugh at the same web address. Notes: * Victims are labelled according to the Sutton Index. The attributions are based on RUC and PSNI statements or general public acceptance of attribution to a particular group. The data was produced for us by two independent researchers, Allison McCulloch and Sean O’Meara, looking at the Sutton Index, and then checked by us. A detailed list of the individual victims and their killers is available from the authors. Four of the deaths in the table occurred in the Irish Republic (1 in 1998, 1 in 1999, 1 in 2000, and 1 in 2005). ** To March 2007. ^^ Five of these six deaths involved visitors to Northern Ireland, killed in the Omagh bombing. The other was a suspected Real IRA member killed by the Garda Síochana in County Wicklow. † 29 of the 55 deaths in 1998 occurred in the Omagh bombing of 15 August. ‡ An Irish National Liberation Army (INLA) member killed in a feud in Dublin. § A retaliation killing in Dublin for the murder of the INLA member in 1999. # One of these deaths was a suicide by an imprisoned Loyalist Volunteer Force member. ^ One of these killings occurred in Dublin by a suspected member of the IRA.

loyalist paramilitary violence, responsible for 49 deaths from 1998, or 4 in 10 of all deaths since 1998, is, arguably, a temporary side-effect of peace – because loyalists and republicans are not fighting. Internal loyalist disputes have been violent since their commitment to achieve decommissioning has taken longer – and unlike republicans, loyalists have not had the carrot of significant political office. (See Table 1.1.)

Argument

53

If data are examined within a longer time frame, using the 12 years before and after the peace process began in 1994, the decline in violence is even more noteworthy: 909 people were killed between 1983 and 1994, but only 179 after 1994, a decline in lethality of over four-fifths.129 By 2006, a United Nations report indicated that Belfast was the world’s second safest city for crime, behind Tokyo, and that its crime levels were lower than the 20 developed countries covered in the report. The report, strangely, did not cover violent crime, but even on this criterion, Northern Ireland was safer than Scotland or England and Wales.130 Contrary to Robin Wilson’s claim that there has been no “peace dividend,” the reduction in violence has helped produce record high employment levels in 2006, while property price increases were the highest in the United Kingdom in 2005.131 By early 2007, a US newspaper reported that Belfast’s city centre was “a showcase of prosperity.”132 Moreover, there is relatively little prospect of a significant resurgence in political violence. Despite difficulties in the Agreement’s implementation, and despite potentially damaging episodes and incidents (e.g. gun-running, material aid by IRA members to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia [FARC], an alleged republican spy-ring at Stormont Castle), the IRA ceasefire held throughout the post-Agreement period. Militarist republican breakaways from the IRA, known as “republican dissidents,” have been few in number, and, aside from the horrific Omagh bomb, have not posed major security hazards. The IRA first opened its arms dumps to weapons inspectors in 2001, and then began a process of decommissioning that ended between July and September 2005, in the destruction of its entire arsenal. The IRA has been the major quantitative protagonist in the conflict, responsible for 49 per cent of all deaths between 1966 and 2001.133 The Real and the Continuity IRAs pose, to date, no comparable threat. In any fair long-run assessment, then, the making of the Agreement, including its institutions, and the causally linked IRA disarmament, have saved lives and have taken the region towards stability. Consider now the loyalist truce. The major loyalist paramilitary organizations, the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) and the Ulster Defence Association (UDA), have been on formal ceasefire since 1994, and in March of 2007, the 129

The data for other forms of political violence point in the same direction. Shootings declined between 1989–97 and 1998–2006 from 3,352 to 1,643, bombings from 2,076 to 1,454, and incendiaries from 602 to 114. Between 1983–94 and 1995–2006, shootings dropped from 5,552 to 2,393, bombings from 3,882 to 1,574, and incendiaries from 706 to 137. Shootings, bombings, and incendiaries not only dropped quantitatively, but were less lethal. 130 “Crime rate in the north ‘world’s lowest,’ says UN,” The Sunday Times, September 18, 2005. 131 “Northern Ireland is the UK’s regional hotspot for house prices rises, says a survey out today,” http://news.ulster.ac.uk/releases/2005/1952.html 132 “Peace (finally) at hand in Northern Ireland?” USA Today, March 19, 2007. 133 Calculated from D. McKittrick et al. (1999) Lost Lives: The Stories of the Men, Women and Children who Died as a Result of the Northern Ireland Troubles, Edinburgh, Mainstream Publishing, table 2, p. 1475.

54

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

UVF, in belated response to decommissioning by the IRA, announced that it had “deactivated” its service units, and placed “all ordnance beyond reach.”134 Loyalist paramilitaries showed greater evidence of undisciplined organization than the IRA, and there have been several intra-loyalist feuds in the post-Agreement years.135 But loyalists have been much more restrained than previously in their lethal encounters with the nationalist community. As loyalists were responsible for over 29 per cent of killings between 1966 and 2001,136 their formal ceasefires, conditional upon the maintenance of the IRA’s ceasefires, importantly consolidated the peace process. Had their political parties not been included in the negotiations through the Peace Forum and the Assembly it would have been far more difficult for the UUP to have made a bargain with the SDLP and other Irish nationalists. Had there not been fixed places for small parties and PR (party list) in the 1996 Peace Forum, and PR (STV) in the first Assembly elections, which gave loyalists reasonable opportunities for electoral gains, it is not clear what institutional incentives would have beneficially operated on their conduct. The release of republican and loyalist paramilitaries, extremists par excellence, from jail, as part of the Agreement, infused the local population with veterans of conflict who have generally been a force for calm, and who have argued for change through peaceful political means in the future. The Agreement has also resulted in demilitarization by the British army and its return to barracks,137 and in the construction of a new police service, far more widely accepted than its predecessor. This evidence confirms a palpably successful peace process, not the deeply flawed or failed one described by the Agreement’s critics. We think the onus is now on the critics to show: (a) that the consolidation of peace was not in any way causally related to the consociational Agreement; and (b) that peace could have been achieved earlier and better through integrationist or centripetal institutions. Given the widely acknowledged role of violence in exacerbating social divisions during the conflict,138 it seems counter-intuitive to suggest that such divisions have increased now that political violence is on the wane, and far more plausible to predict that less violence will produce more social integration – if only in the medium to long-term. In any case, the evidence for the increased social division thesis is scanty. In the citations listed above, where critics claim that divisions are increasing, no general evidence is produced, or a particular local flashpoint is cited, such as the Ardoyne in north “UVF ‘deactivates’ and agrees to put weapons ‘beyond reach,’” The Independent, May 4, 2007. Note, however, that the UVF did not “decommission” its weapons under the aegis of the Independent International Commission on Decommissioning. 135 S. Bruce (2001) “Terrorists and politics: The case of Northern Ireland’s loyalist paramilitaries,” Terrorism and Political Violence 13(2), 27–48. 136 Calculated from McKittrick et al., Lost Lives, table 3, p. 1476. 137 D. McKittrick (2007) “Northern Ireland: The longest tour of duty is over,” The Independent, August 4, http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/ulster/article2819591.ece 138 P. Shirlow, “Segregation, ethno-sectarianism and the ‘new’ Belfast,” p. 228. 134

Argument

55

Belfast.139 Peter Shirlow, who appears to believe that residential segregation may be increasing in Belfast, and is sometimes cited by others who argue that segregation is worsening, honestly acknowledges that this view is based on “claims” and “anecdotal evidence.”140 Other integrationists, including Rupert Taylor, argue that there is decreasing, not increasing segregation, though he may think it would decrease faster but for the Agreement.141 Critics of the Agreement have produced apparently plausible evidence for political polarization. They point to post-Agreement elections which clearly show the SDLP and UUP eclipsed by Sinn Féin and the DUP, respectively. The increase in support for Sinn Féin and the DUP has come from their ability to attract SDLP and UUP voters, rather than from enlisting the support of previous non-voters.142 But, a movement of support from moderate Party “A” (call it the SDLP or the UUP) to hard-line Party “B” (call it Sinn Féin or the DUP) is evidence of political polarization only if the differences between the parties remain constant or deepen during the period in question. If the differences narrow, then at least some supporters of party “A” may now support party “B” without having changed their political preferences. The political polarization thesis as presented by integrationists suggests a radicalization of the electorate. We can test that thesis by examining the policy distance between “radical” and “moderate” parties in each bloc, and by measuring political opinion. There is significant evidence that the policy differences between Sinn Féin and the SDLP have narrowed considerably since the peace process began, and since the Agreement. During this period, Sinn Féin abandoned, at least tacitly, virtually all of the positions that distinguished it from its constitutional nationalist counterpart. These included its support for violence; the demand that the British state withdraw from Ireland or indicate its intent to withdraw; opposition to taking seats in a Northern Ireland Assembly or government; opposition to the “consent” principle; opposition to the decommissioning of IRA weapons; and, by January 2007, opposition to the PSNI. From being “violently opposed to consociation” in the 1980s,143 by 2006 Sinn Féin was prepared to nominate the DUP leader, Ian Paisley, as First Minister (if only to ensure its own hold on the Deputy First Ministership). By the Assembly elections of 2007, one of its arch-critics argued that it was “rapidly becoming indistinguishable from the See a report by Mapping the Spaces of Fear Research Team (2002), “Fear, mobility and living in the Ardoyne and Upper Ardoyne communities,” http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/issues/segregat/ shirlow00.htm, table 28. 140 P. Shirlow, “Segregation, ethno-sectarianism and the ‘new’ Belfast,” p. 228. 141 Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” p. 43. 142 P. Mitchell, G. Evans, and B. O’Leary (2007) “Extremist outbidding in ethnic party systems is not inevitable: Tribune parties in Northern Ireland,” paper available in draft form from the authors. We draw heavily on this paper in what follows, and thank Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans. 143 O’Leary, “The limits to coercive consociationalism,” p. 583. 139

56

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

SDLP.”144 In the case of the DUP, the differences between it and the UUP have never been stark, and not as wide as those between Sinn Féin and the SDLP. It has been relatively easy for members to cross from one party to the other. While the UUP accepted the Agreement, the DUP talked about renegotiating it, rather than wrecking it. Both unionist parties were devolutionist and participated in the Executive. By 2003, the major issue between the two parties revolved not around power sharing, or the Agreement’s other institutions, which were accepted in principle, but rather about the steps that Sinn Féin needed to take before devolution could be resumed. By 2007 both parties supported inclusive power sharing, and during the March 2007 elections, unionist and nationalist intra-bloc disagreement was so minimal that newspapers complained the election was a “humdrum” affair,145 and that the election lacked “oomph” because the “extremes have moved to the centre ground, leaving it a very crowded place for the old moderates, the SDLP and the Ulster Unionists.”146 So the polarization thesis will not survive inspection of the conduct of leading party elites, manifestos, and political behaviour, but what about public opinion? If increased support for Sinn Féin and the DUP indicated political polarization, as the critics argue, we would expect to find evidence of increased polarization among the electorate. Survey data from 1998 until 2003 does show the resilience of rival ethno-national identities, but also shows a surprising degree of attitudinal convergence between nationalists and unionists on many of the main points of the Agreement. Among Sinn Féin partisans, 1998–2003 saw support for the “consent” principle – that Northern Ireland should remain in the UK as long as a majority of Northern Ireland’s citizens support this status – increased from 55 to 66 per cent. By 2003, that is, a full two-thirds of republicans supported what had previously been an anathema. Support for decommissioning among Sinn Féin supporters increased from 63 to 85 per cent. Among DUP supporters, support for the Agreement’s North–South bodies increased from 17 to 35 per cent, while opposition to these bodies declined from 58 to 33 per cent. Support for the establishment of the Northern Ireland Assembly increased among partisans of both parties, from 57 to 70 per cent in the case of DUP supporters, and from 76 to 94 per cent in the case of Sinn Féin supporters. 144

The critic was Ruairi O’Bradaigh, President of Republican Sinn Féin, The Irish Times, February 14, 2007. 145 “In the past, the battle between those for and against the Good Friday Agreement within unionism would have been guaranteed to raise the temperature. However, as the DUP has just discovered that it is a pro-agreement party after all, and that only the final details of a deal with Sinn Féin have yet to be resolved, the steam has gone out of the argument with the Ulster Unionists. The policing question could previously have been expected to dominate exchanges on the nationalist side but Sinn Féin’s position has shifted decisively to one which is largely comparable to that of the SDLP”: “Fire has gone out of election,” Irish News, February 27, 2007. 146 “Tough talk is losing its edge as Ulster’s election trail goes cold,” The Times, March 1, 2007.

Argument

57

Most interestingly, support for “required” power sharing reached very high levels among partisans of both “extremes,” climbing from 32 to 65 per cent among DUP supporters and from 84 to 96 per cent among Sinn Féin partisans during this interval. Only 15 per cent of DUP supporters opposed power sharing.147 This convergence on critical elements of the peace process and the Agreement co-existed with divergent perceptions about the Agreement overall, and about who had benefited from it. DUP partisans increasingly believed that nationalists were the main beneficiaries of the Agreement (from 65 to 90 per cent affirmation), and were more likely to do so than members of the UUP (who went from 54 to 76 per cent affirmation). Overall support for the Agreement dropped among DUP partisans from 36 to 23 per cent, and among UUP supporters from 89 to 68 per cent.148 But this data, and the evidence from the policy position of the parties, cannot be squared with the simplistic polarization thesis advanced by integrationists. Rather, the radical parties have moved to where the available voters are. They have also sought, successfully, in a period of intense negotiations over political institutions, to market themselves as the most effective representatives of their blocs. Each national community wants to be represented by its “strongest voice.” Paul Mitchell, Geoffrey Evans, and Brendan O’Leary label this phenomenon “tribune” voting.149 Tribunes in ancient Rome were elected or appointed by the plebeians to protect their interests against patricians, who usually monopolized the consulate. Tribunes had the right to veto legislation – as well as to propose it – but were not the key executive officers of the republic, who were the consuls. The tribune party combines the traditional expressive feature of tribune politics (the robust defender of the plebeians) with the expectation that such a party can maximize the group’s share of resources, extractable from participation in power-sharing institutions. The tribune party may be simultaneously pragmatic over institutions and intransigent about identity. Such “ethnic tribune” politics in Northern Ireland, combined with the need to fend off party fragmentation and outflanking threats from new more radical parties, has obscured the underlying trend toward moderate positions by the radicals. Significant numbers of voters are prepared to support consociational compromise, but want to be represented by their most effective bloc representatives. This evidence, rather than suggesting that consociation is impossible because of the marriage of hardliners, allows us to understand why it is working so far. As we have seen, integrationists and, particularly, centripetalists usually believe that pacts like that achieved between the DUP and Sinn Féin in All data drawn from Mitchell et al., “Extremist outbidding.” B. Hayes, I. McAllister, and L. Dowds (2005) “The erosion of consent: Protestant disillusionment with the 1998 Northern Ireland Agreement,” Journal of Elections, Public Opinion and Parties 15(2), 123–42. 149 Mitchell et al., “Extremist outbidding.” 147 148

58

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

March 2007 will not be made, so its achievement casts a significant shadow over their analysis. They try to save their line of analysis by suggesting such pacts will not flourish. One should not underestimate the difficulties facing a power-sharing executive fronted by Sinn Féin and the DUP, given that these two parties remain committed to fundamentally different constitutional futures. But the pact has some notable advantages that its predecessor lacked. The institutions are supported, at the time of writing, by all parties in the Assembly, representing 93.3 per cent of voters. The DUP and Sinn Féin, importantly, remain internally united at this point, and there appears little evidence of imminent party fragmentation of the sort that destabilized power sharing in 1999–2003. The sole party that contested the election on a clear anti-Agreement platform, the UKUP, led by the unionist integrationist Robert McCartney, received 1.5 per cent of the vote, with its leader losing the party’s only seat. Both Sinn Féin and the DUP have cooperated closely to produce a programme of government and to agree on the allocation of ministerial portfolios in advance of running d’Hondt.150 Paisley’s DUP, in short, appears more committed and able to deliver on power sharing in 2007 than Trimble’s UUP was between 1999 and 2002.151 Changes agreed at St Andrews in 2006, including a new pledge of office, may prevent some of the difficulties that affected the Executive between 1999 and 2002, not least because the issues which promoted political instability between 1999 and 2007, including decommissioning, demilitarization, policing reform, and Sinn Féin’s acceptance of the police have been largely settled. The devolution of policing and justice, an important demand of Sinn Féin’s, has yet to take place, but there are no other major time bombs on the immediate horizon. If the DUP–Sinn Féin pact does not survive, and this of course is a possibility, the Agreement has two default options – fresh elections, or the more fundamental option that has already been made clear in the lead up to March 26, 2007, an increased cooperation between the London and Dublin governments, combined with increased responsibilities for larger, more efficient local governments, particularly those prepared to accept power sharing. The UK and Irish governments will, if necessary, be underlining the existence of this default to keep the Executive’s parties, and particularly the DUP, the newest convert to power sharing, focused on cooperation. 150

For an explanation of the d’Hondt rule, see B. O’Leary, B. Grofman, and J. Elklit (2005) “Divisor methods for sequential portfolio allocation in multi-party executive bodies: Evidence from Northern Ireland and Denmark,” American Journal of Political Science 49(1), 198–211. 151 According to Jeffrey Donaldson, the UUP politician possibly most responsible for undermining Trimble between 1999 and 2002 and now a leading member of the DUP, the DUP’s commitment to power sharing is “absolutely clear and unequivocal”: “Paisley says yes – but leaves us with another political crisis,” Irish Independent, March 26. A future DUP decision to collapse power sharing would be tantamount to admitting that it had been as naïve in accepting Sinn Féin’s bona fides as it had accused Trimble’s UUP of being over past years, and might carry an electoral price; see D. Adams (2007) “Assembly needs an opposition,” The Irish Times, March 16.

Argument

59

With appropriate power-sharing institutions, nationalist and unionist parties derive electoral rewards by competing on more moderate platforms, providing they reinforce an “ethnic tribune appeal,” i.e. the perception that they most effectively represent their group’s interests and identity. Of course, consociation requires that successful tribune parties must be willing to become parties of government; in other words, to become consuls. On May 8, 2007, nine years after the Agreement was signed, the “extremist” parties Sinn Féin and the DUP agreed to become the consuls. Quod erat demonstrandum. Our evidence and our interpretation confirm that Northern Ireland is, as one integrationist critic of the Agreement has acknowledged, “at its most stable … in a generation.”152 Increased polarization is not an accurate picture. But we should be fair to the critics and consider whether Northern Ireland would have been even more stable if, counterfactually, some of their preferred institutional and policy alternatives had been implemented. Centripetalists suggest that a minimum-winning coalition of moderates would have been more stable than a grand consociational coalition that includes radicals. Northern Ireland’s experience suggests that such reasoning is faulty. Excluded radicals can destabilize power-sharing institutions. They may accuse included moderates from their bloc of treachery, which may prevent the latter from making the compromises necessary for successful power sharing. Excluded radicals may engage in violence, creating a polarized atmosphere that pressurizes moderates and makes compromise difficult. This is what happened during Northern Ireland’s only previous experiment with a power-sharing coalition of moderates, the Sunningdale experiment of 1973–74.153 The coalition was attacked by radicals on both sides. It found it difficult to reach substantive policy agreement within the cabinet, amidst mounting violence, and collapsed after less than five months in office. This experience was one of the reasons why even the moderates of the SDLP insisted on an inclusive coalition that included Sinn Féin.154 The UUP’s leader David Trimble saw the virtues of inclusion as a way to consolidate peace, even if he wavered on the principle – and he has even claimed to have been responsible for suggesting d’Hondt.155 The “moderates” of the British P. Shirlow (2007) “Why it’s going to take two to tango,” Belfast Telegraph, March 14. Neuheiser and Wolff (eds), Peace at Last? pp. 1–24; S. Wolff (2001) “Context and content: Sunningdale and Belfast compared,” in Wilford (ed.), Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, pp. 11–27. 154 Denis Haughey of the SDLP remarked: “It became increasingly clear that a consensus of the middle ground was not going to be possible because of the tensions, the antagonism, the bitterness, the problems created by campaigns of violence carried on by paramilitaries and … by the end of the 1980s we became firmly convinced that we could only get an adequate working solution to the problem through … switching off the violence and the inclusion of the extreme parties of both traditions.” Cited in J. McEvoy (2006) “The institutional design of executive formation in Northern Ireland,” Regional and Federal Studies 15(4), 454. 155 McEvoy, “The institutional design of executive formation.” 152 153

60

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

and Irish governments were also behind d’Hondt. There was, therefore, no consensus on a centripetalist coalition, even among moderates. The SDLP’s refusal to consider the idea made it a non-starter, and perhaps explains why unionist integrationists dislike the SDLP so much – they see it as the collaborator of Sinn Féin. We are tempted to respond by saying to the critics that they were wrong to say “d’Hondt don’t work.” Inclusion in power-sharing coalitions, we submit, can make radicals less extreme, because it provides them with opportunities to have their concerns addressed constitutionally and gives them a stake in the system. Inclusion may strengthen the position of moderates within radical factions, a possibility Horowitz and others overlook or discount. This does not mean that we are saying that the inclusion of radicals in government is always a good idea. As in Northern Ireland in 1974, radicals may be strongly opposed to power sharing and committed to militancy, in which case they will use their positions in government to destroy a consociation. But, contrary to Horowitz, it makes political sense to include leaders of radical parties prepared to participate in power-sharing institutions on the basis of democratic mandates and methods, particularly when they are waging internal battles with their hawks on the merits of constitutional politics. This has been the British government’s policy towards Sinn Féin, which Horowitz would like to see excluded from the Executive, since 1997. Contrary to the intuitions of integrationists and centripetalists, then, an inclusive coalition of (moderated) radical rivals may be more consistent with stability than an exclusive coalition of moderates. Consociational executives, in short, may create incentives for radicals to moderate their policy demands, something which Horowitz sees as the exclusive preserve of moderate coalitions. The Agreement linked inclusion in office to a pledge that included a commitment to constitutional politics, ruling out the (honest) participation of certain revolutionary radicals. The d’Hondt rule for executive allocation did not just permit inclusion to any party that achieved a certain threshold of electoral support, it linked each party’s share of ministerial portfolios and its pick of ministerial portfolios to its share of seats in the legislature, increasing its attractiveness to minority parties, which is what Sinn Féin was in 1998. There were additional incentives in the Agreement for parties to win a majority of their (nationalist or unionist) bloc’s representation, since that granted them entitlement to hold one of the co-premierships – and that has been made absolutely clear since 2006. The only way that radical parties could expand their support, barring the mobilization of new and more extremist voters, was at the expense of more moderate parties, i.e. they had incentives to moderate. Sinn Féin had another incentive, the possibility of winning more legislative seats and a share in executive office in the Irish Republic. These incentives, we believe, helped produce the compromises on the part of Sinn Féin and (albeit later) the DUP that we have already described. Contrary to Horowitz’s own views on Sinn Féin, its behaviour is a textbook example of his best-known

Argument

61

underlying thesis of “if they have to, parties will moderate in order to win office,” but in this case not because of the presence of any of the institutions he commends.156 We believe that the exclusion of republicans from the Executive would have made it far more difficult for Sinn Féin’s leadership to accept constitutional politics. Horowitz is fully aware that the exclusion of Sinn Féin would have meant continuing violence. In explaining the origins of the Agreement, Horowitz correctly notes that the British and Irish governments “wanted an arrangement that promised to end the violence sooner rather than later. An inclusive regime promised that.”157 But if violence had continued, would the moderates in his preferred minimum-winning coalition have been able to compromise, and would their resulting policies have persuaded those doing the fighting, i.e. the paramilitaries of the excluded parties, to give up their ways? We think not. The Agreement shows that consociational institutions can be designed to mitigate the problems associated with having radical rival parties in government. The d’Hondt process reduces the transaction costs of bargaining over portfolios and promotes stability through being patently fair. No programme of government has to be negotiated in advance between the parties entitled to government. The design creates strong incentives for parties to take up their entitlements to ministries because, if they do not, their portfolios go either to their ethno-national rivals or to rivals in their own bloc. This is an argument that parties can use to persuade reluctant supporters to go into the Executive. The pure d’Hondt allocation procedure means that no vote of confidence is required by the Assembly, either for individual ministers or for the Executive committee as a whole. These incentives produced positive results in the post-Agreement period; for example, during its anti-Agreement phase the DUP took its seats on the Executive between 1999 and 2002, and fought the 2001 Westminster general election and the 2003 Assembly election, not on a pledge to scrap the Agreement but to renegotiate it.158 These creative incentives that may keep parties in the Executive despite strong disagreements mean that the Agreement differs positively from the Sunningdale power-sharing experiment of 1973–74 that sought to maintain traditional UK notions of collective cabinet responsibility. The DUP’s preparedness to sit in an executive with Sinn Féin, albeit reluctantly, prepared its supporters for its eventual acceptance of power sharing in 2007. This acceptance was facilitated by effectively extending d’Hondt to the election of the First Minister (FM) and Deputy First Minister (DFM), with the necessary proviso that both the FM and DFM could not come from the same designation. What we consider the key St Andrews rule change allowed the DUP and Horowitz, “Making moderation pay.” Horowitz, “Explaining the Northern Ireland Agreement,” p. 215. 158 The DUP did, however, engage in ritualized protest, rotating its ministerial positions among its Assembly ministers. This led its critics to accuse it of accumulating and distributing pension rights among its members while depriving its constituents of effective ministers. 156 157

62

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Sinn Féin to nominate not just ministers but also their respective co-premiers, without explicitly endorsing the nominees of the other parties, and thus allowed power sharing where trust was lacking. Would Northern Ireland have better politics under the fabled alternative vote? We think not – and we will try to explain why. First of all we believe that all informed political scientists will eventually accept that the arguments Horowitz has made for over twenty years on behalf of the alternative vote have, in our view, been decisively logically and empirically refuted by Jon Fraenkel and Bernard Grofman in published and unpublished work, and we will return to this observation.159 Second, as we have said before, in Northern Ireland, and elsewhere, the alternative vote would never be endorsed by hard-line parties in negotiations if they believed that its effect was likely to undermine their legislative representation. Since the Agreement was made possible by the inclusion in negotiations of radical parties associated with paramilitary organizations, i.e. Sinn Féin, the UDP and the PUP, it would have been irrational for their leaders to agree to an electoral system that people were hoping would minimize their future prospects. Political parties are much more likely to agree on a proportional electoral system that allows them to win a fair share rather than one that either requires them to transform themselves into trans-ethnic or non-ethnic parties, or seems to obligate them to dilute their preferences in order to have some appeal to their ethnic or national rivals’ voters. The adoption of the alternative vote is especially unlikely when the politicians involved in negotiations owe their positions to a previous proportional electoral system – as was true in Northern Ireland. The alternative vote, in short, was not a realistic alternative. It could only have been imposed by the UK government. Such a policy would have been a severe provocation to the DUP and Sinn Féin, and could have reignited ethno-national tensions. Exclusion, after all, is a cause of conflict.160 In any case, Fraenkel and Grofman have persuasively shown that the Fiji case, which Horowitz has used as a basis for prescriptions elsewhere and described as a key experiment, and in which his counsel was heard by the Fijian authorities, does not bear out his claims for the alternative vote. In the course of their debate with Horowitz they have shown that he “retreats from his previous claims about the desirability of the alternative vote” and mischaracterizes the formal modelling results of their original rebuttal of his claims, and they complain that he nowhere addresses the extreme disproportionality of electoral outcomes in Fiji – except, incorrectly, to dismiss this phenomenon as largely the result of malapportionment. Horowitz still refuses to recognize the role that AV played in the J. Fraenkel and B. Grofman (2007) “The merits of Neo-Downsian modeling of the alternative vote: A reply to Horowitz,” Public Choice 133(1/2), 1–11. 160 Both reasons help to explain why, when the alternative vote was adopted in Republika Srpska in 2000, it was imposed by outsiders. Another “vote-pooling” device – that chosen for the Nigerian presidency in 1979 – was imposed by military dictators. 159

Argument

63

build-up to the overthrow of the Indian-led government in May 2000, but honestly acknowledges that the system he so strongly urged on Fiji’s reformers failed to achieve its intended objectives at the elections of August 2001.161 Why does the empirical case of Fiji speak to Northern Ireland and AV? Because in both cases conflict is bipolar, and most constituencies have clear majorities belonging to one group or another. In these circumstances, a majoritarian electoral system like AV is likely to result in most single-member constituencies returning representatives from the relevant local majority nationality and not, especially where divisions are deep, moderate representatives. Such results, being disproportional, will lead to the under-representation of minorities within such districts.162 The imperative of politicians staying in the count under AV, i.e. getting as big a first preference vote as possible to avoid early elimination, may dictate continuing xenophobia, ethnocentrism and extremism on the part of ambitious political leaders, rather than the softening of appeals to win lowerorder preference votes from the other group. Even where the demographic and technical conditions exist for AV to work its alleged moderating effects, the assumption that the electorate will endorse politicians with crossethnic appeals just because only such politicians can win elections may J. Fraenkel and B. Grofman (2006) “The failure of the alternative vote as a tool for ethnic moderation in Fiji: A rejoinder to Horowitz,” Comparative Political Studies 39(5), 663–66. Their original article, “Does the alternative vote foster moderation in ethnically divided societies? The case of Fiji,” may be found in the same journal, vol. 39(5), 623–51, followed by Horowitz’s reply, “Strategy takes a holiday: Fraenkel and Grofman on the alternative vote,” pp. 652–62. Horowitz seems unwilling to accept any serious criticisms of his advocacy of AV, though he seems quietly to have dropped his enthusiasm for the multi-member district version of AV but without a full retraction (see the note below). Benjamin Reilly, whom Horowitz cites in support of his positions, makes much more nuanced judgements about the appropriateness of applying AV in divided places. Reilly thinks AV has worked in Australia, an immigrant state with weak ethnic divisions, and is better for Papua New Guinea (which has extreme ethnic fragmentation) than plurality rule in single-member districts. But Reilly has carefully not recommended AV for bipolar conflict situations, like that in Northern Ireland. Instead he has suggested that STV in three member seats would have been better for Fiji, and that Northern Ireland should stick with STV. In an unpublished paper, “Electoral systems and conflict management: Comparing STV and AV systems,” Reilly states that “The situation in Northern Ireland is quite unlike [that in] Papua New Guinea, but is closer to the Fijian case. The evidence from there does not support the argument that AV works better than STV in a situation of bi-communal cleavage, such as Northern Ireland. If anything, the Fijian example demonstrates the dangers of using overtly majoritarian electoral rules in such cases. Overall, the comparative evidence from such cases suggests that ‘no change’ is the wisest recommendation to make for Northern Ireland,” www.devolution.ac.uk/Discussion_papers.htm 162 What about AV in multi-member constituencies, once advocated by Horowitz? We need not consider this possibility because Lijphart has demonstrated that it is a technically unsound combination: A. Lijphart (1997) “Disproportionality under alternative voting: The crucial – and puzzling – case of the Australian senate elections, 1919–46,” Acta Politica 32(1), 9–24; and see also his criticisms of Horowitz’s commendation of AV for South Africa, A. Lijphart (1991) “The alternative vote: A realistic alternative for South Africa?” Politikon 18(2), 91–101. 161

64

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

not be warranted.163 In compelling analyses, Fraenkel and Grofman have shown that for AV necessarily to yield outcomes that favour moderate parties there must be both a majority for moderation in the electorate and voters’ preferences must be single peaked with respect to the relevant ethnic–conflict cleavage, and voters’ preference schedules must be such that voters are likely to give lower-order preferences to those in another bloc before transferring within their own bloc.164 This formal result – it is a matter of logical modelling – makes the success of any vote pooling entirely dependent on an already existing degree of moderation in the relevant place – the charge, ironically, that Horowitz has always levelled at consociational prescriptions. What is empirically important in Northern Ireland is that the conditions which either Horowitz or his critics regard as necessary for AV to work do not exist. That is because most voters transfer (write down lowerorder numerical preferences across parties) within their own blocs first. STV, by contrast, worked to induce moderation within Northern Ireland’s political parties – and this is a factual rather than counterfactually based argument. STV had already helped moderate the policy stance of Sinn Féin. After its first phase of electoral participation in Northern Ireland and in the Irish Republic in the 1980s, the party discovered it was in a ghetto. Its candidates in some local government constituencies piled up large numbers of first-preference ballot papers and then sat unelected as a range of other parties’ candidates passed them to achieve quotas on the basis of lower-order preferences. They received very few lower-order preferences from SDLP voters. But once the party moderated its position, promoted the IRA’s ceasefire(s), and became a champion of the peace process and a negotiated settlement, its first-preference vote, its transfers from SDLP voters, and its seats won all increased. Similarly, STV, and the lowering of the electoral threshold permitted by increasing the seats in each constituency from five to six, between the Forum elections of 1996 and the Assembly elections of 1998, allowed loyalists to win seats without artificial assistance, which helped to maintain the loyalist ceasefires.165 This slightly technical excursus on the merits of STV and the demerits of AV for Northern Ireland should not obscure the key problem with the perspectives of republican and unionist integrationists on stability. Neither of 163

AV was employed, at the bidding of the international community, in the election for Republika Srpska’s president in 2000. The thinking was that Bosniaks, who comprised about one-sixth of the electorate, would use their second preference votes to support a moderate Serb candidate against a Serb hardliner. In the event, only one candidate, from the Bosniak party BOSS, was eliminated before the hard-line Serb was elected. Only 3 per cent of BOSS’s voters transferred votes across the ethnic divide. Almost all of them preferred to vote for Bosniak candidates, in spite of the fact that they had virtually no chance of being elected. See S. Bose (2002) Bosnia after Dayton: Nationalist Partition and International Intervention, London, Hurst, p. 233. 164 Fraenkel and Grofman, “Does the alternative vote foster moderation,” especially pp. 627–31. 165 Integrationists, following Horowitz, argue that this lowering of the threshold, rather than helping matters, “exacerbated the basic problem” of letting candidates win simply by mobilizing their own constituency; Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” p. 14.

Argument

65

their respective integrationist projects has the remotest prospect of winning cross-community support, let alone delivering justice. For over a century historic Ulster, and then the Northern Ireland that was carved from it, has been divided politically and electorally into two rival blocs. The divisions became particularly intense during the 30 years preceding the Agreement. While nationalist and unionist parties won an average of 82 per cent of the vote during the five region-wide elections held between 1973 and 1975, they received an average of 91 per cent in the five campaigns held between 1996 and 1999. Within the nationalist bloc, moreover, the republican share of the vote has been increasing. In its first five election campaigns (1982–87) Sinn Féin won an average of 37.3 per cent of the nationalist vote. In the five campaigns between 1996 and 1999 its average increased to 41 per cent. And then, more dramatically, after the 2001 Westminster elections it became the majority party in votes within the nationalist bloc.166 Patterns within the unionist bloc are more complex, because both major unionist parties were equally intransigent for most of the period between 1971 and 1998. There is evidence, however, that the UUP’s moderation after the Agreement cost it votes to the advantage of the DUP.167 But, there has been no swing voting between the blocs over the last three decades over a wide range of different electoral systems, and any change in the blocs’ respective shares of the poll has been caused by different birth, death, emigration, and electoral participation rates. The rising nationalist share of the vote, from 24.1 per cent in the 1973 election to the Northern Ireland Assembly, to an average of 32.5 per cent in seven region-wide elections between 1982 and 1989, and 39.8 per cent in five elections between 1996 and 1999, had nothing to do with the conversion of unionists. It was the result of Sinn Féin’s participation in electoral politics after 1982, a higher electoral participation rate by Catholics, and an increase in the Catholic share of the population.168 Nor has there been any evidence of support increasing for parties outside of the two ethno-national blocs, which could be construed as voters in transition from one bloc to the other. Instead, the self-styled “non-ethnic,” “nonsectarian,” “middle ground” has been squeezed, and arguably has only been P. Mitchell, B. O’Leary, and G. Evans (2001) “Northern Ireland: Flanking extremists bite the moderates and emerge in their clothes,” Parliamentary Affairs 54(4), 725–42; P. Mitchell, B. O’Leary, and G. Evans (2002) “The 2001 elections in Northern Ireland: Moderating ‘extremists’ and the squeezing of the moderates,” Representation 39(1), 23–36. 167 Mitchell, O’Leary, and Evans, “The 2001 elections in Northern Ireland.” 168 O’Leary, “More Green, fewer Orange”; O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, 2nd edn, p. 192; B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (1997) “Northern Ireland: La Fin de Siécle, the twilight of the second Protestant Ascendancy and Sinn Féin’s second coming,” Parliamentary Affairs 50(4), 672–80; P. Mitchell (1995) “Party competition in an ethnic dual party system,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 18(4), 773–96; P. Mitchell (1999) “The party-system and party competition,” in P. Mitchell and R. Wilford (eds) Politics in Northern Ireland, Boulder, CO, Westview, pp. 91–116; P. Mitchell (2001) “Transcending an ethnic party system? The impact of consociational governance on electoral dynamics and the party system,” in R. Wilford (ed.) Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, pp. 28–48. 166

66

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

kept alive by proportional representation. The largest of the middle-ground parties, the Alliance Party, averaged 8.4 per cent of the vote in its first five region-wide election campaigns (1973–75), but only 6 per cent in the five election campaigns between 1996 and 1999. During the three regional elections that took place between 1996 and 2003, the vote-share of parties outside the ethno-national blocs averaged around 8 per cent. These data are powerful evidence of historic polarization and deeply held identifications, realities that will not be easily transformed by any electoral system changes. They explain why most voters will transfer, if at all, within their blocs before casting preferences outside their blocs – thereby disabling the grounds in which AV might work (though in such cases it would not be AV that was, so to speak, doing the work, i.e. promoting inter-bloc transfers, but existing moderation). These facts need to be seriously considered by anyone interested in political and democratic stability. To persist in advocating AV after the Fraenkel and Grofman contributions is the equivalent of selling snake oil. Whereas its advocates were entirely honest, in our view, and usually explicit in their ideological preferences (they disfavour the DUP and Sinn Féin), they must now acknowledge that within Northern Ireland AV cannot achieve what they want – and might, in current circumstances, actually enhance the prospects of the DUP and Sinn Féin. The Agreement’s integrationist critics need to examine reality instead of wishing it was different. To the extent that there are significant numbers with dual identities (Northern Irish and Irish, and Ulster Scots and British), these are antagonistic toward a rival set, rather than complementary. Or they are insufficiently strong (Northern Irish) to weaken the polarized identities (Irish or British).169 All this suggests that backing either nationalist or unionist integrationism is a recipe for a zero-sum conflict. Tertium not datur. There is no third-way integrationism that is neither British nor Irish, but just Northern Irish. But while partisan nationalist and unionist versions of integrationism are both unfair and unrealistic, self-styled “post-nationalists,” “social transformationists,” and “emancipationists” are merely unrealistic over any feasible medium-term future. The elections results just discussed show little support for parties that support a post-national or overarching 169

The Agreement does not, as post-nationalist critics (Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 30; Oberschall and Palmer, “The failure of moderate politics,” p. 81) argue, pose change in stark terms of either a United Kingdom or a united Ireland. Indeed its institutional architecture succeeds in softening sovereignty by creating links between North and South, and between Ireland and Britain, which are likely to survive any change in Northern Ireland’s constitutional status. It establishes what we have called a “double protection” model which protects the identity of Northern Ireland’s nationalist minority now, and a future unionist minority in a united Ireland, should that occur. As James Anderson, no defender of the Agreement, has recognized, it escapes an “absolutist conception of territorial sovereignty”; J. Anderson (2006) “Partition, consociation, border-crossing: Some lessons from the national conflict in Ireland/Northern Ireland,” unpublished paper, p. 24.

Argument

67

identity, and what support there is for such parties is diminishing. Transformers’ optimism about the feasibility of their project in the face of this electoral data may stem from the belief that these voting results reflect successful elite machinations, manipulations, and perverse incentives, and are not genuinely representative of a considerable consensus that allegedly exists outside conventional politics. But, if so, they are obliged to explain why, in free and open elections under multiple different electoral systems, only nationalists and unionists (who include republicans and loyalists) win significant numbers of votes, while politicians who stress overarching identities or crosscutting issues such as class or civic values receive small levels of support. The fact is that turnout in Northern Ireland elections is both higher than in the United Kingdom as a whole and higher than anywhere else in Great Britain. The position of the main political parties on constitutional issues broadly reflects the public preferences reported in survey data.170 We must also emphasize that it is not true that the political preferences of Northern Ireland’s “civil society,” i.e. its large number of civic associations, significantly differ from those of its political parties. The most popular civilsociety organizations in Northern Ireland, the Orange Order and the Gaelic Athletic Association, are solidly unionist and nationalist, respectively.171 True, several, and sometimes admirable, smaller, peace and conflict resolution organizations reach across the national divide and seek to promote a transcendent identity, but just as many – if not more, according to the academic who has most closely studied them – are nationalist or unionist groups that want an honourable binational compromise.172 And, there is no unambiguous indication that the two communities desire to mix socially, as some integrationists appear to assume. It may be true, as Taylor says, that “the extent of integrated education has widened,”173 but to only 3–4 per cent of the school-age population. Taylor cites a survey reported by Tom 170

For data on the turnout rate in Northern Ireland, see McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, p. 309, n. 47. Survey data ranging from the 1960s to the 1990s, and analyses are consistent in showing ethnic polarization – although they have generally under-reported extremist preferences at the ballot box. See M. Duffy and G. Evans (1997) “Class, community polarisation and politics,” in L. O’Dowds, P. Devine, and R. Breen (eds) Social Attitudes in Northern Ireland: The 6th Report, 1996–7, Belfast, Appletree Press, pp. 102–137; E. Moxon-Browne (1991) “National identity in Northern Ireland,” in P. Stringer and G. Robinson (eds) Social Attitudes in Northern Ireland: The First Report, Belfast, Blackstaff, pp. 23–30; K. Trew (1996) “National identity,” in P. Devine, R. Breen, and L. Dowds (eds) Social Attitudes in Northern Ireland, Belfast, Appletree, pp. 140–52. 171 Shane O’Neill has observed that “even politically active feminists in Northern Ireland seek to be recognized as one of the national communities by women from the other traditions … most feminists freely acknowledge the political primacy of the national struggle. … The same point might be made about activists in the gay and lesbian communities”; S. O’Neill, “Mutual recognition and the accommodation of national diversity,” pp. 225–26. 172 F. Cochrane (2001) “Unsung heroes? The role of peace and conflict resolution organizations in the Northern Ireland conflict,” in McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World, p. 153. 173 Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” p. 43.

68

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Hadden that indicates that “most people in Northern Ireland want to live together rather than apart,” but Hadden has argued elsewhere that the “major trend” in housing during the conflict was for both communities to “congregate in areas where they feel safer and less exposed.”174 People express tolerant preferences but practise suspicion, a common feature of deeply divided places. Taylor cites a paper from the late John Whyte in support of his claim that “there are now a number of cross-community housing projects,” but in this piece, written during the conflict, Whyte claimed that “residential segregation is increasing.”175 In any case, we think that if there was evidence of a clear wish to mix socially and residentially, it would not be clear that this would obviate the need for – or be incompatible with – a political settlement that accommodated both groups qua groups. These stubborn realities explain why the British and Irish governments, in the interests of stability, eventually converged on accepting versions of proposals first articulated by the SDLP: accommodating the two blocs in powersharing institutions with trans-state Irish dimensions.176 Such a settlement was not possible for much of the past 30 years. It became so only when republican and unionist political agents, especially republicans and loyalists, stepped away, however haltingly, from their respective integrationist absolutes.177 We believe that the only prospect for social transformation, or for sustained public deliberation leading to social transformation, is from within a consociational and territorially pluralist framework. Successful consociation can be biodegradable, as the Dutch example suggests. It is therefore in our view profoundly counterproductive for Rupert Taylor and others on the socialist and liberal left to argue for the rejection of the Agreement and the abandonment of consociation. The Alliance Party and the Workers Party, who, 174

K. Boyle and T. Hadden (1994) Northern Ireland: The Choice, Harmondsworth, Penguin, p. 33. J. Whyte (1993) “Dynamics of social and political change in Northern Ireland,” in D. Keogh and M. Haltzel (eds) Northern Ireland and the Politics of Reconciliation, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, p. 115. 176 Analysts differ over whether consociation has been a consistent goal of UK governments. It is a nice irony that some anti-consociationalists think that it has been. Wilford refers to it as an “ideé fixe” of British policy since 1972; R. Wilford, “Aspects of the Belfast Agreement: Introduction,” in Wilford, Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, p. 4. Another anti-consociationalist sees a continuing emphasis on power sharing in British policy; P. Dixon (2001) Northern Ireland: The Politics of War and Peace, Basingstoke, Palgrave. By contrast, proconsociationalists believe UK policy commitments in this respect were intermittent and inconsistent; see McGarry, “Political settlements”; O’Leary, “The Anglo-Irish Agreement: Folly or statecraft?”; “The limits to coercive consociationalism in Northern Ireland”; “The Conservative stewardship of Northern Ireland 1979–97.” 177 This political movement was matched in the academic community, where two leading professors switched their position subtly from the integrationist position that any accommodation of nationalists was a boon to Protestant sectarianism to the view that a (minimalist) accommodation of Irish nationalism was necessary for peace and the erosion of extremism; see P. Bew, H. Patterson, and P. Teague (1997) Northern Ireland: Between War and Peace, London, Lawrence and Wishart, p. 214. 175

Argument

69

while critical of aspects of the Agreement, are more sensible to support the Agreement generally for its transformationist potential. Ian O’Flynn, who seeks to achieve social transformation through deliberation, has come round to supporting consociation as a necessary, albeit transitional, step.178 O’Flynn, of course, is following an argument in the literature, based on South Africa’s transition, which sees value in consociation with time limits.179 The difficulty with this position, which has some merit, is that it is not easy in advance (during negotiations) to know when the transition will be over, and minorities can be expected to baulk at attempts to time limit guaranteed protections. This is why, in our view, it is best to leave consociations to decay organically. Let the people change consociations within their own frames and rules. Fairness Many integrationist critics argue that the Agreement’s consociational institutions are illiberal and thus “unfair,”180 because they privilege group identities over those of individual identities, and certain group identities over other group identities. They discriminate against individuals who do not possess group identities, those whose attachment to a group is less than others, those who are attached to underprivileged groups, and even, because privileges are “fixed,” individuals from currently privileged groups, who may decide in the future to withdraw from them.181 In Taylor’s view, it is an inherent feature of consociation that certain ethnic identities are privileged: “as a consociational settlement [the Agreement] privileges ‘natural’ pre-given ethno-national group categories.”182 Similarly, for Paul Dixon, the “consociational way” builds institutional arrangements that entrench and privilege certain groups.183 Wilford and Wilson see consociation as “inextricably linked to a communalist, rather than individualist, concept of society,” a model which they see as based on an unsophisticated view of

178

Personal communication between John McGarry and Ian O’Flynn. See, for example, D. Rothchild (2005) “Assessing Africa’s two-phase implementation process: Power sharing and democratization,” in P. Chabal, U. Engel, and A-M. Gentili (eds) Is Violence Inevitable in Africa? Theories of Conflict and Approaches to Conflict Resolution, Leiden, Brill, pp. 147–70. 180 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 219. 181 For a general critique of consociation’s basic unfairness, see Brass, Ethnicity and Nationalism, p. 342. 182 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 220. Taylor also argues that the South African interim constitution was not consociational because its provisions for power sharing were not “explicitly tied to ethnic group boundaries”: R. Taylor (2008) “Ending apartheid: The relevance of consociationalism,” in G. Ben-Porat (ed.) The Failure of the Middle East Peace Process? Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, p. 102. 183 Dixon claims that it is the “consociational way” to have institutional arrangements that entrench and privilege certain groups; “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 357. 179

70

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

groups as inevitable and homogeneous.184 O’Flynn worries that the Agreement is overly focused on the contending groups and does not take sufficient account of the fact that not all members of such groups are equally attached to them and that not everyone is in such groups.185 Horowitz appears to sympathize with these integrationist criticisms of the focus on groups and warns that “if the logic of group-centered approaches to the construction of institutions is carried too far, there is no space for individuals who do not wish to identify, or identify exclusively, with a particular group.”186 Some integrationist critics even associate consociation with the indisputably and profoundly unjust system of apartheid, with one arguing that consociation entails “separate, but not necessarily equal,” treatment.187 We are obliged to say that for people who complain about unfairness, integrationists are generally rather unfair toward consociationalists. It is just wrong to ague that consociationalists are all primordialists who regard identities as given, inevitable, and unchanging. Consociationalists only have to believe that, in particular contexts, divided identities are likely to be durable, should not be wished out of existence, and should be recognized. We have written an entire book on Northern Ireland, The Politics of Antagonism, which explains how identities there have been historically and politically constructed over a period of centuries.188 That consociation privileges certain identities is not, however, a groundless charge. Many consociations have privileged particular identities over others. These are “corporate” rather than “liberal” consociations.189 Some have had corporate electoral rolls, obliging citizens to vote only within their own community for their own parties. To vote for the community councils in newly independent Cyprus, citizens had to opt for separate Greek Cypriot or Turkish Cypriot rolls. Lebanon’s electoral law specifies that successful candidates from certain constituencies must come from particular communities. Several consociations specify that particular office holders must be from one community or another: Lebanon’s executive arrangements, which allocate the presidency, premiership, and speakership, to a Christian, Sunni Muslim, and Shi’a Muslim, respectively, discriminate against the Druze, socialists, and environmentalists, or individuals with no group attachment. They even discriminate within the “privileged” categories, because the three offices are Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” pp. 13–14, emphasis added. O’Leary is cited by them as the source for their claim that consociationalism is communalist rather than individualist, when he has made no such argument. 185 I. O’Flynn (2005) “Democratic values and power-sharing,” in O’Flynn and Russell (eds) Power-Sharing, pp. 17–18, 23; O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 130. 186 Horowitz, “Foreword,” p. viii. 187 Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” pp. 358–59. 188 O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, 2nd edn. 189 O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics,” p. 16; McGarry, “Liberal consociation and conflict management.” 184

Argument

71

not equal.190 Corporate consociations create institutional obstacles to the dissolution of the protected identities, which is not to say that they would necessarily wither in the absence of such institutions. But let us be clear about the Agreement. It does not, contrary to the assertion of a recent article in Foreign Affairs, “set aside seats for Catholics and Protestants,” or for unionists and nationalists for that matter.191 Citizens vote on a common roll; vote for any candidates or parties they prefer, including non-bloc parties; can vote across blocs; and can express first-order or lower-order voting preferences outside their blocs. The election of Assembly members (MLAs) does not privilege particular identities. Ministers become ministers by the d’Hondt allocation algorithm that is “difference blind.” It operates according to strength of representation won by parties in the Assembly, not their national identity.192 Parts of the Agreement do privilege unionism and nationalism over other forms of political identity – note political, not religious or ethnic identity. MLAs are required to designate themselves as “unionists,” “nationalists,” or “others.” The original rule for the election of the FM and DFM required concurrent nationalist and unionist majorities, as well as a majority of MLAs. The passage of important laws requires either such a concurrent majority or a weighted majority. It is therefore true that such rules create (mild) disincentives for voters to change their current behaviour. There is an incentive for voters to choose nationalists or unionists, because members from these groups will, ceteris paribus, be more pivotal than others. The rules predetermine, in advance of election results, that nationalists and unionists are better protected than “others.” The “others,” if they were to become a majority, would be pivotal in the passage of all normal legislation, but nationalists and unionists would have more pivotality in any key decisions 190

The Dayton Accords prescribe a rotating presidency for Bosnia-Herzegovina’s government, based on one Bosniak and one Croat from the Federation of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and one Serb from Republika Srpska. The indirectly elected upper chamber of the federal legislature comprises five Bosniaks and five Croats from the Federation of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and five Serbs from the National Assembly of Republika Srpska. The presidency and vice-presidency of the Federation of Bosnia-Herzegovina rotates between a Croat and a Bosniak. Citizens who do not want to define themselves ethnically are barred from all of these offices. The institutions convert Serbs who live in the Federation of Bosnia-Herzegovina, and Bosniaks and Croats who live in Republika Srpska into second-class citizens, and are at cross-purposes with the international community’s expressed aim of encouraging the ethnically cleansed to return home. 191 A. Dawisha and K. Dawisha (2003) “How to build a democratic Iraq,” Foreign Affairs 82(3), 45. 192 This fact has not stopped one critic of the Agreement’s rules from asserting that d’Hondt privileges certain identities. Peter Emerson, the director of the de Borda Institute, advocates replacing the d’Hondt rule for electing the executive with PR-STV so that “all assembly members could participate on an equal basis without using any sectarian labels.” That d’Hondt, per se, treats all MLA parties equally and does not require them to use any labels, sectarian or otherwise, seems to have been overlooked. See P. Emerson (2003) “Reforming the Belfast Agreement: Just what’s at stake?” Belfast Telegraph, September 23.

72

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

requiring cross-community support. The rules bear a superficial resemblance to those in place in pre-1994 South Africa, as long as one bears in mind the significant qualification that the Northern Ireland rules accurately reflect the democratically manifest divisions in the polity – unlike pre-reform South Africa. Corporate mechanisms, however, are not intrinsic to consociational design. Most sensible consociationalists, in fact, eschew these devices, and prefer liberal rules that protect equally whatever groups emerge in free elections. That is, they prefer “self-determination to predetermination.”193 They are liberal not corporate consociationalists. Consociationalists believe that parties to pacts may make entrenchment deals, i.e. settlements that institutionally represent (and privilege) certain identities, and that they may do so both for self-interested reasons and because they have genuine existential anxieties about the security of the communities they represent. Such reasons explain, for example, why the SDLP and the UUP converged on creating a dual premiership, and why they adopted a concurrent majority rule for electing the premiers and as one of the cross-community consent rules for passing legislation, both of which require the formal designation of MLAs as unionists or nationalists. These devices were inspired by the rules used in negotiations – themselves inspired by the South African negotiations – and arguably by the institutional self-interest of the largest moderate parties in each bloc. As liberal consociationalists, we think it would be desirable to change the Agreement’s rules and institutions to remove as many corporate principles as possible, but we believe any such changes should occur within the rules governing the Agreement, which among other things have the legitimacy that flows from the double referendum. In 2004, we argued that the d’Hondt formula should be used for the nomination of the FM and DFM, which would mean that the first and second largest parties would nominate the FM and the DFM – so they could come from any party, not just a unionist or nationalist party. We argued that parties rather than MLAs should designate themselves as nationalist or unionist, if they so wished, and that the rules governing the nomination of the premiers should then be that the two premiers could not be both unionist or nationalist – though one could be drawn from the ranks of the “others” should they increase in size.194 Changes very similar to these were introduced by the St Andrews Agreement in November 2006. One criticism of these changes is that they maintain designations, including “others.”195 Since the cardinal principle consociationalists seek to guard within a functioning consociation is that no sizeable democratic Lijphart, “Self-determination versus pre-determination”; McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 32–36; McGarry, “Liberal consociation and conflict management.” This literature does not stop integrationists like Taylor claiming that consociation is inherently corporate. 194 McGarry and O’Leary, “Stabilising Northern Ireland’s Agreement,” pp. 222–23. 195 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 220. 193

Argument

73

grouping should be excluded from a fair share of executive power, we have no difficulties with an alternative arrangement that dispenses with group designation altogether, provided it does not deliberately or unintentionally damage any such group. It would be possible to secure that goal by mandating that a collective or rotating chief executiveship be drawn from the ranks of all sizable parties in the Assembly without any need for designation. It is also possible to simplify the current rules used for the passage of “key” measures. A simple weighted majority of at least 60 per cent of MLAs is sufficient. This threshold would presently be sufficient for protecting both unionists and nationalists, but without privileging their votes over those of “others.”196 We add, however, one important proviso. The bill of rights envisaged under the Agreement, to be effective, must have the support of a majority of the Assembly and of at least 40 per cent of nationalist and unionist MLAs. If the Bill of Rights is not to be hijacked by a coalition of unionists and the others, its passage must follow the rules envisaged for its legislation in the Agreement (either parallel consent or weighted consent). (It would be better to have no distinct bill of rights than to have a bill of rights dictated by a 60 per cent majority of the Assembly that excluded nationalist MLAs.) This is not an unprincipled argument on our part. It suggests the retention of the original rules of the Agreement for the implementation of the key features of the Agreement, while suggesting appropriate rule changes for making the implemented Agreement work more effectively, with consent. Having accepted the partial merits of a small number of integrationist difficulties with the Agreement, we would insist that these are accepted by liberal consociationalists. We also maintain that most critics fail to observe that the Agreement generally is liberal rather than corporate – apart from the exceptions just considered. Moreover, its other institutional rules are more conducive to the emergence of new parties and identities than the majoritarian electoral systems typically favoured by integrationists and centripetalists. Voters in Assembly elections are less likely than voters in Westminster elections to regard voting for a new or a small party a waste of time. PR-STV provides an opportunity, though no guarantee, of intercommunity 196

Nationalists consistently have won over 40 per cent of the popular vote in recent elections, and the Catholic share of the electorate, which normally votes nationalist, is increasing. In most Assembly elections, these present facts will translate into nationalists winning over 40 per cent of the seats (or 44 out of 108). In the 1998 and 2003 elections, nationalists fell just short of this mark, winning only 42 seats, but they received 44 seats in 2007 and will likely do better in future. Even if they failed to pass this threshold, nationalists could only be outvoted on key measures if opposed by everyone else, including those currently designated as “others.” Since the latter presently stand on platforms of impartial distance from unionism and nationalism, this may be an unlikely scenario. If some others consistently voted with unionists against all nationalists, they would have difficulty retaining their seats. Effectively, then, a 60 per cent weighted majority rule protects nationalists, now and later. Nationalists and others, by contrast, fall short of 60 per cent, so they could not coerce all unionists in the foreseeable future.

74

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

and trans-community transfer of lower-preference votes (often very lower order). Any party, not just nationalist and unionist parties, is entitled to seats in the Executive if it meets the quota established by the conjunction of the d’Hondt system and the limited number of ministries. A party is entitled to membership in government with a much smaller share of seats in the legislature than is normally required in any Westminster system, so new parties have a better chance to promote their visibility, influence public policy, and demonstrate to their supporters that voting for them is a meaningful exercise. D’Hondt may help small parties entitled to Executive positions to prevent large parties from monopolizing all of the most important portfolios.197 We have argued for making the Executive even more inclusive, and thus fairer to non-dominant political parties, by extending its size. A larger executive might give a seat to the Alliance Party or other small parties. Alternatively, the Executive could be constituted by the Sainte-Laguë mechanism, which is more advantageous for small parties than d’Hondt.198 It is ironic that integrationists generally support electoral systems and executive composition rules that make it difficult for small parties to get elected, because, in deeply divided places, the parties that integrationists usually prefer are often small.199 The Agreement not only stresses equality (“parity of esteem”) between nationalists and unionists, rather than the racist inequality of an apartheid regime, it offers protection to individuals, including those who regard themselves as neither unionist nor nationalist. Each minister is required under the Agreement to behave in a non-partisan way and “to serve all the people of Northern Ireland equally, and to act in accordance with the general obligations on government to promote equality and prevent discrimination.” The Agreement looked forward to the entrenchment of the European Convention of Human Rights in Northern Ireland law, which makes it easier for individual citizens to bring cases against authorities. It established a new Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission that should lead to a bill of rights for Northern Ireland. It has led to a new statutory Equality Commission. The UK government, under the Agreement, and the 1998 Northern Ireland Act imposes a statutory obligation on public authorities “to promote equality of opportunity in relation to religion and political opinion; gender; race; disability; age; marital status; dependants; and sexual orientation.” Public bodies are required to draw up statutory schemes indicating how they will O’Leary, Grofman, and Elklit, “Divisor methods,” p. 198. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, pp. 373–75; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2006) “Consociational theory, Northern Ireland’s conflict, and its Agreement. 2. What critics of consociationalism can learn from Northern Ireland,” Government and Opposition 41(2), 274, n. 60; O’Leary, Grofman, and Elklit, “Divisor methods,” pp. 200, 208. 199 The same is as true of Iraq as of Northern Ireland. Integrationists criticize Iraq’s PR electoral system, but it provides the best hope for Iraq’s non-sectarian parties to get elected. See McGarry and O’Leary, “Iraq’s constitution of 2005.” 197 198

Argument

75

implement these obligations. While educational arrangements were not a negotiated part of the Agreement, Northern Ireland’s current system is that of a liberal consociation. It allows children to attend Catholic or state (in effect, Protestant) schools without requiring them to do so, and now funds each system equally. Parents may opt to send their children to a third, publicly funded, integrated sector. The likeliest alternatives to these arrangements, including discrimination in favour of the integrated sector, would be coercive. The public universities in the region are formally liberal. Lastly, the Agreement establishes a Civic Forum alongside the elected Assembly. This institution is made up of representatives of organizations outside conventional politics, and presents an opportunity for those who do not feel represented by conventional political parties to have their voices heard. It has no counterpart elsewhere in the UK, including in the newly devolved regimes in Scotland and Wales, and, arguably, it over-represents unelectable “others.”200 There are other ways that the critics’ alternatives can be seen as less fair than the Agreement. PR-STV and d’Hondt are not just fairer to small parties than the alternative vote and minimum-winning coalitions; they are fairer for all parties, because they directly match popular support with shares in office.201 Centripetalists’ majoritarian alternatives give disproportionate shares in office both to artificial and real majorities, which makes them not simply destabilizing, but arguably unfair. They privilege majorities, real and constructed, over minorities. More generally, integrationism invariably privileges one national community over another.202 This is most obvious with the projects of the UKUP or Republican Sinn Féin. By celebrating only individual rights within their preferred nation-state and ignoring the minority’s existence as a national minority, they both end up privileging the relevant majority, and thereby endanger individual equality.203 But evidence of national partisanship can be found in the allegedly non-partisan accounts of post-nationalists, social transformers, and centripetalists. Rupert Taylor, who sees consociation as unfair, wants social transformation to produce a united Ireland.204 It is not clear what distinguishes his goals from those of Irish republican dissidents, though he rejects violence. Wilford and Wilson, who argue that their message is “impartial between the competing philosophies of 200

The Civic Forum was dissolved when the political institutions were suspended in 2002, but there are prospects of it being resurrected. See “Civic Forum invite issued,” May 31, 2007, UTV Newsroom, www.u.tv/newsroom/indepth.asp?pt=n&id=82600 201 The fairness of d’Hondt explains why it was picked by the parties that negotiated the Agreement. See McEvoy, “The institutional design of executive formation,” p. 454. 202 As we have suggested consociation can also be charged with privileging the state, and hence those groups that dominate the state, but this is an oversight in classical consociational theory that works against its general logic. 203 For the classic argument on how individual equality requires respect for minority communities, see Kymlicka, Multicultural Citizenship. 204 Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” pp. 42–46.

76

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

unionism and nationalism,”205 want the “Northern Ireland political class … to turn its collective mind away from the question of who holds sovereignty,” something obviously more satisfying to those who prefer the current sovereignty arrangements.206 While Wilford and Wilson criticize consociation as being inextricably linked to a “communalist concept of society,” they strangely propose as an alternative a power-sharing executive based on a minimum-winning coalition that contains “equal numbers of Catholics and Protestants,” seeing this as preferable to the “ideological baggage” of “nationalist and unionist.”207 This prescription is profoundly communal and would reconvert the Irish nationalist minority into a religious minority, repeating the logic of the Government of Ireland Act 1920, which tacitly permitted discrimination against nationalists because it proscribed discrimination only against Catholics and Protestants.208 When centripetalists propose excluding the extremes from government in Northern Ireland, it is Sinn Féin that they often have in mind, or in print – currently the majority party in the nationalist bloc. Likewise, Horowitz’s strictures about avoiding “maximalism” in 1998 and in 1974 are, like Wilford and Wilson’s appeal to forget about sovereignty, entirely suited to defending the status quo.209 Many critics can therefore easily be “outed” as allies of either nationalism or unionism. Who is the more democratic? Integrationists and centripetalists claim the Agreement’s consociational institutions are deficient in democratic virtues, that it has “weak democratic moorings,”210 even that it is in “breach of every basic principle of democracy” and represents a “macabre parody of democracy.”211 On the reactivation of the institutions in 2007, which some might have heralded as a democratic advance, a critic noted that the region was marked by a “democratic deficit,” and needed “a profound agenda of democratic reform … to embrace modern democratic standards.”212 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 36. Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” p. 19. 207 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 31. 208 McGarry and O’Leary, The Politics of Antagonism, 2nd edn, pp. 116–17. Wilford and Wilson call for elections to the Assembly to be “preferably synchronized with devolved elections in Scotland and Wales,” and for Stormont “to copy Westminster legislation, rather than ignoring policy innovations developed in Britain’s clearer left–right political culture”; “From the Belfast Agreement,” pp. 28, 32. 209 Horowitz, “The Agreement,” pp. 101–102; Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 31. 210 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” p. 26. 211 R. McCartney (2000) “Devolution is a sham,” Observer, February 20; R. McCartney (2006) “This is a situation hardly calculated to produce either clarity or truth,” Belfast Telegraph, October 26. 212 Wilson, “Devolved government.” 205 206

Argument

77

Criticisms of the Agreement come in three types, and are standard objections to consociation.213 First, there are concerns about democratic accountability. Northern Ireland’s inclusive Executive leaves a rather small part of the Assembly’s membership free to serve as an opposition for standard adversarial parliamentary debating in the classic Westminster model. For Taylor, Northern Ireland’s Executive is “insulated from any effective opposition or censure,” while for Wilford and Wilson, the Assembly is “bereft of any effective opposition to challenge executive dominance.”214 Horowitz and O’Flynn maintain that d’Hondt has shifted opposition from the legislature, where it belongs, to the Executive, where it does not. The Agreement, apparently, has created a “stunted opposition” and a “fractious cabinet.”215 Relatedly, there was a concern, particularly before changes agreed at St Andrews in 2006, that the Agreement allowed individual ministers too much discretion, undermining the (majoritarian) doctrine of collective cabinet responsibility and making it difficult for voters to hold the authorities to account.216 Second, consociation is said to have limited, or even deprived, voters of their freedom to choose and change the government.217 One unionist critic claims that the Agreement “requires” Sinn Féin to be in the Executive,218 while a journalist argues that d’Hondt has resulted in a “permanent coalition” of “four faith-based parties” which “can never be removed.”219 Centripetalists claim that their preferred model is democratically superior to consociation in these two respects. It provides oppositions to hold government to account and to pose as alternative governments. For a review and rebuttal of these arguments see O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics,” pp. 4–19. Paul Dixon does not think the Agreement is consociational, but thinks that consociation has serious democratic weaknesses. In just one article, Dixon declares that consociationalists are “skeptical of democracy”; have “a limited form of democracy”; prefer a “restricted form of democracy”; and are “suspicious of democracy”; P. Dixon (1997) “Paths to peace in Northern Ireland (I): Civil society and consociational approaches,” Democratization 4(2), 1, 2, 8, 17. By 2005, his view was even more critical. For consociationalists, the choice was said to be between a “severely restricted” or “very limited” form of democracy “or no democracy at all” (our italics); Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 357. 214 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 219; Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” p. 17. 215 Horowitz, “The Agreement,” p. 104; O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 146. 216 O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 146; Roche, “A Stormont without policy.” 217 McCartney, “This is a situation.” 218 “The terms of the Agreement require members of Sinn Féin to be in the executive … [the Agreement] provides members of Sinn Féin with the right to be in the government”; C. Wilson (2003) “Rejection of the Belfast Agreement is entirely compatible with the unionist commitment to ‘Equal Citizenship,’” Belfast Telegraph, October 28. 219 J. O’Farrell (2007) “Today, we have agreed,” New Statesman, April 2. O’Farrell provides no evidence for the faith-based nature of three of the parties (the SDLP, UUP, and SF), and though we can see how he might make a case for the party led by the Reverend Ian Paisley, we would try to persuade him that he is wrong to classify that party as a church writ large. 213

78

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Third, social transformers decry consociation’s alleged focus on (secret) negotiations among, and governance confined to, elites.220 Consociationalists are said to be pessimistic about or to distrust the masses, preferring electoral systems that strengthen party leaders over voters, and seek to engineer a “passive and demobilized population.”221 These values are seen as at odds with those of a modern participatory democracy. Modern democracies, transformers argue, empower voters, do not restrict civic responsibility to voting in elections or even membership in political parties, but encourage political engagement through a wide range of voluntary associations and public consultations. Taylor argues that the Agreement was negotiated behind closed doors rather than through a “wide-ranging deliberation in the public sphere.”222 He has argued that the “ethno-national group-based understanding of politics” foreclosed the space for a “more deliberative form of democracy around a common citizenship.”223 Dixon disagrees, and notes civic involvement in the making of the Agreement and through its institutions, but argues that this democratic input means the Agreement cannot be consociational.224 Some social transformers, including supporters of the Alliance Party, believe that one result of elite domination in the making of the Agreement and its aftermath is a focus on ethnic issues and the screening out of genuinely popular cross-cutting issues.225 Thus Wilson argues that Northern Ireland’s current “democratic deficit” involves neglect of “bread and butter” issues and the under-representation of women, issues which he sees as “historically … at the heart of the Northern Ireland problem.”226 It is true that consociation places more emphasis on the democratic value of inclusion than it does on opposition, but this neither means that consociation necessarily has no space for opposition – nor that feasible integrationist or centripetalist policies would generate robust oppositions. In Northern Ireland, the charge that consociation is incompatible with an opposition capable of holding the government to account must be tempered by the fact that backbenchers from other parties in government will hold the relevant minister of a different party to account in the Assembly. Indeed, the same people who criticize Northern Ireland’s consociation for having no opposition also lament the high level of adversarial debate in the Assembly between members of the governing parties. Mechanisms for rigorous accountability exist. Ministers face an Assembly committee in their Dixon, “Paths to peace”; Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” and Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement.” 221 Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 359. 222 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 221. 223 Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” p. 217. 224 Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 363. 225 For Alliance’s views on this matter, see McEvoy, “The institutional design of executive formation,” p. 459. 226 R. Wilson, “Devolved government.” 220

Argument

79

jurisdiction, headed by a representative of another party.227 This inhibits fullscale party fiefdoms in any functional sector – which cannot be said for the Westminster system. Two critics of consociation who closely observed the institutions in action between 1999 and 2002 acknowledged that the committees performed well in holding ministers to account.228 In addition, the values of ministerial accountability (control of ministers by the Assembly) and collective responsibility (control of ministers by the Executive) have to be weighed, in a deeply divided polity, against the need for minority ministerial representatives to have some independent initiative if power sharing is to be meaningful. It is not difficult to see devices such as collective responsibility as standard tools for promoting majoritarianism within the framework of formal power-sharing institutions. That is why strengthening collective decision making within the cabinet at St Andrews had to be tempered by introducing cross-community consent rules within the cabinet. Minority ministerial discretion may be considered particularly important where minorities do not enjoy substantial powers of self-government. What is needed in these circumstances, then, is a balance between the values of ministerial initiative and those of ministerial accountability and shared decision making. The d’Hondt allocation mechanism, the cap on the size of the Executive (ten ministers) and the existence of small parties, ensures that not every party is in the Executive. Therefore, there are automatically some opposition backbenchers. Between 1999 and 2002, five parties and 19 MLAs were in opposition and, since May 2007, the numbers are three and ten, respectively. Nor must the Executive comprise even all the major parties, in spite of the loaded and inaccurate description of the Executive as a “mandatory” coalition.229 The Agreement entitles all major parties that qualify under d’Hondt to take Executive portfolios, but does not require these parties to do so. There is nothing to stop the SDLP or the UUP, or any other party, deciding to go into opposition. Some members of the UUP and SDLP indicated a desire to do so in the wake of the 2003 Assembly elections, and one observer later advised them that it would be in their interests to do so.230 It may be ironic to have the two “radical” parties in government with the “moderates” 227

The 1998 Northern Ireland Act prevents the committees from being chaired or deputy chaired by ministers or junior ministers. The committees are required, where feasible, to be organized in such a way that the chair and deputy chair be from parties other than that of the relevant minister. 228 Wilford and Wilson, “From the Belfast Agreement,” pp. 7–9. 229 For our disagreement with this language, see note 102. 230 Adams, “Assembly needs an opposition.” Adams argues that the SDLP and UUP should go into opposition after the 2007 elections. Why? While they may exercise some minimal influence on executive decisions if they participate, they cannot hope to be given credit for them: “Rather than clinging to the coat-tails of the two main parties in the faint hope of benefiting from reflected glory, it would be much better for the UUP and SDLP if they relinquished their claims to office and went into opposition. From the opposition benches and in various Assembly committees, both parties could play a far more constructive role by seeking to hold the new administration to account.” See also McEvoy, “The institutional design of executive formation,” p. 6.

80

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

outside, but this would be consistent with the Agreement’s rules. More generally, the view that consociation and opposition are incompatible is traceable to Horowitz’s inaccurate claim that consociation entails a fully inclusive “grand coalition” in which “everyone is to be included.”231 A consociation, however, merely requires joint government, involving the polity’s major communities. It may either be “complete” (Horowitz’s reading of Lijphart’s grand coalition), “concurrent” (restricted to parties commanding a majority but not total support within their respective segments), or “weak” (where at least one of the parties in office commands only plurality support within its group).232 There is nothing “permanent” about any party’s place in the Assembly or in government. Rascals can be kicked out of office by voters, and by MLAs. Under the Agreement’s rules, any party’s share of seats in the Assembly or Executive is dependent on democratic support, and voters are free to withhold that support and to vote for other parties instead. Voters are free to expel all four incumbent parties from the Executive, or, more realistically, to alter their shares of Executive positions. Thus, the Executive established under the Agreement in May 2007 looks different from that which existed from 1999 to 2002. While the FM and DFM were held by the UUP and SDLP between 1999 and 2002, they are now held by the DUP and Sinn Féin. While the UUP and SDLP held six of the ten ministries between them, they now hold but three, with the DUP and Sinn Féin share increased from four to seven. The success of Executive incumbents in Northern Ireland’s elections since 1998 are, therefore, significantly less than their counterparts in the Westminster and American congressional systems during the same period, where voters are said to have greater flexibility to “throw the rascals out.” What the Agreement prevents is not an alternation in government, but the exclusion from the Executive of a party that satisfies the d’Hondt threshold, and is willing to take the pledge of office. If we consider democracy as an institutional arrangement, or regulative ideal, where members of a political community make decisions about their collective affairs as equals, consociational democracy is not inferior to integrationist or centripetalist alternatives; quite the opposite. It is based on PR, including versions, such as STV, not based on party lists. These are better D. L. Horowitz (2000) “Constitutional design: An oxymoron?” in I. Shapiro and S. Macedo (eds) Designing Democratic Institutions, New York, New York University Press, p. 256; O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics.” 232 Consociations may also be based on some communities, but not on all. Thus Israel has had consociational arrangements between Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews, while totally excluding Arabs. In any such cases, significant parties exist outside the government, and criticize its policies. Consociational arrangements may even exist within a single governing party, if that party is internally a multi-segmental coalition, and if the party’s executive is comprised of representatives of the different segments. Such a “consociational party” can govern within the conventional Westminster model of government and opposition, as has occurred in Canada and India, and arguably South Africa. See O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics.” 231

Argument

81

designed to produce more “authentic” representation, i.e. they allow voters to elect the politicians they want, unlike the plurality or majoritarian electoral systems preferred by integrationists and centripetalists. The latter systems are explicitly designed in divided societies to produce “strategic” voting, i.e. to give incentives to voters to select particular politicians (those preferred by centripetalist engineers) instead of those whom voters would freely choose. On the face of it, strategic preference manipulation seems profoundly undemocratic. It is based on the premise that the politicians whom people want, if they are nationalist, ethnocentric, or sectarian, are not the ones they need. It perhaps explains why Horowitz and his supporters often call for outsiders to push intransigent locals into accepting centripetalist institutions.233 A more sympathetic interpretation of Horowitz’s thinking, including his criticism of consociation as undemocratic, would conclude that the justificatory basis of his support for democracy is interest based, and output based. In the normative literature on democracy, there are two main defences of democratic institutional arrangements: autonomy-based justifications and interest-based justifications.234 The autonomy justification for democracy locates the central value of democratic governance in an appeal to individual autonomy, understood as allowing people to share in the collective control of the conditions of their existence. On the interest-based account, the central justification for democratic institutions is the protection of certain interests and outcomes that protect those interests.235 As we have argued, however, it is not clear that centripetalism fares better than consociationalism on an interest (stability)-based defence of democracy. In addition, it is not clear that interest-based accounts of democracy are adequate. Interest-based accounts seem to suggest that the only reason to prefer democracy to other forms of government is because it works better in producing decent outcomes. It seems to imply that monarchy or aristocracy would be preferable to democracy if Plato was right that philosophers are better at governing. The democratic credentials of the Agreement and of liberal consociationalists should not be belittled. Liberal consociation, explicitly and latently represented in the Agreement’s institutions, is more consonant with the autonomy-based justification for democracy. It places value on the agency of the people who are making the decisions. It does not attempt to manipulate election results to get the right policy outputs, but places 233

In 2000, Horowitz suggested that the way out of the dilemma created by the failure of ethnic elites to accept centripetal institutions was for internal parties to put “constitutional decisionmaking in other hands,” including outside governments and international organizations; Horowitz, “Constitutional design,” p. 277. Recently, he called for a “strong American push” in a centripetalist direction for Iraq; Horowitz, “The Sunni moment,” Wall Street Journal, December 14, 2005. 234 See D. M. Weinstock (2006) “The real world of (global) democracy,” Journal of Social Philosophy 37(1), 6–20. 235 Weinstock, “The real world of (global) democracy.”

82

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

importance on input considerations, on the fact that all people’s voices are respected and included in some way in the Assembly and the Executive that are formed, and the decisions that they make. That is, after all, what it reasonably means to respect the collective agency of the people, and their capacity to have control over the collective conditions of their existence. Consociation, by bringing together authentic (representative) leaders may promote genuine democratic deliberation, and in the open. It is far more likely to do this than centripetalist arrangements, which, if effective, exclude hard-line voices from the Executive, and perhaps the legislature. Consociationalists accept that deals between leaders may helpfully be negotiated in camera, to facilitate compromise, but understand that, particularly in modern democracies, the resulting settlements must have popular resonance and must win popular endorsement. It is a strength, not a weakness, of Northern Ireland’s Agreement that it was ratified by referenda. This popular backing is one reason why the Agreement has been more resilient than the Sunningdale Agreement. Consociationalists acknowledge that leaders find it easier to govern or make deals where followers are deferential, and some argue that undemocratic consociations are better than the other undemocratic alternatives, but these arguments cannot reasonably be deployed to suggest that consociationalists think that public deference is possible or desirable in modern democracies. The proportional electoral systems favoured by consociationalists are in serious tension with public deference, as they are aimed at enhancing turnout and voter choice. Equally, consociationalists have no objection to an active civil society, as long as it is genuinely representative, and as long as its role is to complement rather than supplant authentically representative and democratically elected political leaders. What distinguishes we consociationalists from social transformers in Northern Ireland is that the latter appear to favour unelected representatives of civil society – and only those that support a transformative agenda – over elected politicians.236 As for the suggestion that consociational politics promotes a superficial ethno-national politics at the expense of more popular questions of class or gender, we submit that there is no evidence, either from public-opinion data or from elections, that the latter questions are more popular. If they were, why do people not vote for parties that put such questions at the top of their agenda? Elections in Northern Ireland are free and fair, and turnouts are reasonably high when compared to other democratic jurisdictions, so the lack of support for class-based or gender-based parties cannot be explained by undemocratic structural impediments or by the presence of a large section of the electorate that does not vote.237 The reasonable conclusion is that 236

The similarities between centripetalists and social transformers are obvious. The former want to make it difficult for ethnic leaders to be elected, while the latter want to avoid ethnic leaders being formed. 237 McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, pp. 309–10.

Argument

83

class and gender questions have not been in the forefront of politics in Northern Ireland because they have not been in the forefront of voters’ minds (though they may come to be in the future). We do not think that this is highly desirable, but it is a fact. To argue, in the face of the evidence, that class and gender questions are at the root of Northern Ireland’s politics resembles the “false consciousness” paradigm that once resonated among the left, and which was never democratic.

Conclusion There are places and times where integration is the appropriate normative strategy for resolving conflicts. Contemporary Northern Ireland is not one. A British or an Irish integration strategy has been available and either imposed or demanded throughout the last century and a half – orthodox unionism and Irish nationalism, respectively. These rival programmatic visions have been at the heart of conflict. There is a third prescriptive integration programme that is possible on paper, namely integration into a Northern Irish identity, but that has the obvious limitation that a sovereign and independent Northern Ireland commands far less support than either British unionism or Irish nationalism. We believe that if the current institutions endure, a common Northern Irish identity may come to be shared by most unionists and nationalists; but that will be the work of at least two decades, and it will be consociation that eases the path to this shared identity. The Agreement is a consociational compromise between British unionists and Irish nationalists, an agreement on coexistence supported by their respective states. It is a confederalizing compromise, linking both major governments on Ireland, and all the autonomous governments in the Isles, while granting Northern Ireland the capacity to become as independent in policy making as it wishes. This complex consociational and territorially pluralist settlement invalidates the proposition that consociations are never made in, or never appropriate for, deeply divided places. We will see whether it will show that consociations can be stable over the longer run amid nationally divided peoples. Its chances are fair. Meanwhile critics of the Agreement are free to mobilize and transform the identities which they hold culpable for the conflict. They are equally free to transform the institutions which they believe – wrongly – freeze these collective identities. We are sceptical of their chances of success in the remainder of our lifetimes, but if they succeed, we would expect to say that consociation enabled them to succeed, provided we had good arguments for doing so. It is feasible that within this century a majority will emerge within Northern Ireland that favours an all-Ireland state. But if that happens and if it is matched with sufficient support in independent Ireland, we believe that the reunification of Ireland should take a confederal or federal form, preserve consociational arrangements within Northern Ireland, and keep Northern Ireland linked to Great Britain through the British–Irish Council – if that is

84

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

what unionists want. The experience of stable consociation within the sovereign framework of the UK with confederal links to Ireland will ease any such transition. In short, whatever difficulties lie ahead – and we are sure there will be some – consociation will and should shape a political accommodation that genuinely recognizes the local major peoples without significantly discriminating against others.

Part II

Commentaries

2

Recognition, equality, difference Achieving democracy in Northern Ireland Shane O’Neill

Pathway to a democratic peace John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary provide, in the substantive essay in Part I of this volume, an impressive summary of the arguments they have developed over many years with respect to the management of the ethnonational conflict in Northern Ireland. These two political scientists have without question produced the most significant body of academic literature on this conflict and its recent peace process.1 McGarry and O’Leary’s work has been hugely significant not because it has generated a broad consensus of support in the academic community (far from it, as previous work by many of the contributors to this volume indicates), but rather because their perspective has anticipated in many ways the most positive achievements of the peace process. As the process got into its most critical stage, in the mid-1990s, the strategy for settlement that they advocated became central to all serious debate about the way forward. This strategy, the establishment of a power-sharing democracy in a meaningfully binational context, was discussed and pursued in academic discourse in the public sphere and, crucially, in the political process itself. Most notably, it provides a foundation for the political architecture of the 1998 Belfast Agreement that has made possible the progress of recent years – power sharing supported by federal and confederal institutions. Never mind how many or few of the key actors were au fait with the relevant literature in comparative political science, it is simply not plausible to deny that the Northern Ireland settlement was in most key respects shaped by the “revisionist consociationalism” set out with such clarity, consistency, and comprehensiveness in the work of McGarry and O’Leary. The peace process was well served by the arguments they had made in support of the view that this institutional set-up would provide the most appropriate and fair basis for agreement. Significantly, they also provided useful comparative evidence to show why it had a good chance of working in this 1

J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland, Oxford, Blackwell; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press.

88

Shane O’Neill

context. Their research always gave clear advice (often ignored by key actors at notable times of crisis) as to what should be done and by whom at particular stages in order to move the process along in the direction of establishing a stable, democratic order for this nationally divided society. In all these respects their contribution has been without parallel. In spite of what many of their critics may believe, no alternative perspective has come remotely close to being taken sufficiently seriously by the right combination of citizens, government officials, politicians, and other key actors from across the national divide. Obviously the credit for the historic transition toward peace and social normality in Northern Ireland must be shared by all those participants who have helped to bring about this positive change. But, like any historic transition of its kind, this one has required a core political vision as to how the future might be better than the past, along with a road map as to how we might get there. No one did more than McGarry and O’Leary to provide these essential ingredients. It is a very rare achievement for social scientists anywhere to be able to say, as these two now can, that one part of the world has changed much for the better in the recent past because it is now managed, broadly speaking at least, in ways they have suggested as offering the most suitable and secure basis for democratic peace and stability. That is something for which they should feel rightly proud.

Revisionist consociationalism and critical social theory McGarry and O’Leary reiterate their core argument in the first part of this volume, that power sharing within a binational institutional context offers the most stable, fair, and democratic order for Northern Ireland. They stress again their claim that the settlement that has been agreed offers the best and most practical means of ending the politically motivated violence that led to “the deaths of thousands” and to so much misery among the peoples of both national traditions. Their arguments here are, as always, supported with a clear-sighted and interpretively rich analysis of the historic roots of the conflict and of subsequent developments up to and including the key steps in the recent, late stages of the peace process. McGarry and O’Leary’s commitment to revisionist consociationalism is bolstered in this essay by an array of detailed and empirically well-grounded arguments that draw on their wide and deep knowledge of comparable cases of ethnic and national conflict. They present a sustained and clear rationale for the various key institutional features of the agreed settlement, reflecting as it does the model they have advocated of power sharing with binational dimensions. They also present highly convincing arguments, consistent with their overall analysis, regarding the role of external actors and, most importantly, those crucial and troublesome issues that dogged the peace process for many years concerning security and violence, paramilitarism, decommissioning, and policing. I will not discuss any of these in detail here, save to note that I find the analysis impressive and compelling.

Achieving democracy

89

Of particular interest to me as a political philosopher and critical social theorist are the ontological and normative dimensions of the account of egalitarian democracy that underpins McGarry and O’Leary’s perspective. Ontologically we need an account of the world in which egalitarian democracy is to be established; in other words the key constituents and make-up of relevant aspects of social reality. Normatively we need an account of the evaluative standards by which the institutional structures of the political order should be judged. These standards will be informed by conceptions of equality and democratic legitimacy, but also by accounts of freedom, justice, and other appropriate political values. It seems to me that a contest between rival conceptions of egalitarian democracy is at the heart of key contemporary debates regarding integration and accommodation in nationally divided societies. These debates are central to this collection. In my own work on related themes,2 I have sought to develop aspects of contemporary critical theory, drawing on the work of Jürgen Habermas, Iris Marion Young, Axel Honneth, and others,3 so as to analyse aspects of ethno-national conflict. One of my aims has been to derive from such a development of critical theory some guidance as to how the conflict in Northern Ireland might best be resolved or managed so that greater freedom, equality, and justice can be realized in this context. In what follows I explore the connections between McGarry and O’Leary’s revisionist consociationalism and the critical-theoretical approach I have adopted. Critical theory, in general, is defined by a commitment on the part of those who practice it not only to explain the causes or to interpret the roots of social problems but also to participate in a process that allows people to emancipate themselves from whatever causes them to suffer unnecessarily. Ultimately a critical theory must test itself in practice. It can only be judged positively if it makes a contribution to a process that improves the lot of those who have been forced, due to their location within the social order, to carry unnecessary burdens. This means that a good critical theory should be capable of identifying specific actions, practices, strategies, or policies that are directed to minimize unnecessary suffering and to maximize freedom and justice. While any such theory will clearly have utopian dimensions in anticipating a realm of freedom and justice, that vision must be built upon a convincing social ontology. A critical theory must, furthermore, offer some plausible account of transition from the misery of the present toward a better future. It is the account 2

3

See, for example, S. O’Neill (2000) “Liberty, equality and the rights of cultures: The marching controversy at Drumcree,” British Journal of Politics and International Relations 2(1), 26– 45; (2003) “Are national conflicts reconcilable? Discourse theory and political accommodation in Northern Ireland,” Constellations 10(1), 75–94; (2003) “Justice in ethnically diverse societies: A critique of political alienation,” Ethnicities 3(3), 369–92. J. Habermas (1998) The Inclusion of the Other, Cambridge, Polity; I. M. Young (2000) Inclusion and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press; A. Honneth (2007) Disrespect: The Normative Foundations of Critical Theory, Cambridge, Polity.

90

Shane O’Neill

of transition that will ground a set of practical and feasible policies that set an agenda for change. On these emancipatory terms, theories are judged by the differences they make, particularly for those who suffer the worst of the misery. If the changes that a theory recommends further the process of dismantling the causes of unnecessary suffering, then it makes an important contribution. Needless to say, if, in contrast, the theory creates new and more pernicious injustices, if it causes worse suffering, or if it leads people down a path where the limits of freedom and justice in the long term are unreasonably restricted, then it will have failed on its own terms. When it comes to intervening in an ethno-national conflict like that in Northern Ireland, a critical theorist will need, from an ontological point of view, a compelling account of the nature of individual, group, and national identities, how they might lead to political conflict, and how such conflict might be averted. From a normative point of view the critical theorist needs to find some way of ordering potential political strategies and policies so as to encourage a process of transformation that will minimize suffering and maximize freedom and justice in a particular context. From this analysis, clear strategies for emancipation should follow. Given the centrality of emancipation to a critical-theoretical approach and its stress on the need for social transformation, the perspective I have adopted has a somewhat different orientation from that of McGarry and O’Leary, who as comparative political scientists have worked within a tradition dominated by naturalistic approaches to social scientific inquiry. They set out in their contribution here some of the worries they have regarding the work of academics who have criticized the 1998 Agreement because of its alleged failure to facilitate the kind of radical social transformation that those critics believe to be required in Northern Ireland. In spite of this, for reasons that will be clarified shortly, the conclusions I have drawn in my own work are much closer to those of McGarry and O’Leary than they are to those who seek an alternative form of radical social transformation to that embodied in or facilitated by the Agreement. Critical theorists and egalitarian democrats should, I will argue, support the model of power sharing with binational institutional features as advocated by McGarry and O’Leary, agreed in 1998 and realized in the current arrangements. In order to help explain why I believe this, and why by implication McGarry and O’Leary can be seen as having made an important contribution to the critical-theoretical project of transforming and dismantling the structure of conflict in Northern Ireland, I will contrast two theoretical models of egalitarian democracy that lie behind many of the key positions that have been taken in debates about the merits of revisionist consociationalism for Northern Ireland. The first of these two models of egalitarian democracy I will refer to as the individualist liberal model (IL), and the second as the recognition theoretical model (RT). The first underpins many of the criticisms made by liberal and progressive academics who argue that McGarry and O’Leary have

Achieving democracy

91

failed to grapple effectively with the need for social transformation in Northern Ireland. The second model drives my own critical-theoretical analysis. I want to show here why RT provides much the more convincing account of the requirements of egalitarian democracy in a nationally divided context like this one. The recognition theoretical model will be seen to offer strong support for revisionist consociationalism, even if it has a slightly different reading than McGarry and O’Leary do of the ways in which accommodation and transformation may best be pursued in such a context on a path of emancipation. I also hope to show that while RT has a strong claim to satisfy the practical test of critical-theoretical success, IL fails to do so since it is insufficiently attuned to the experience of those people who have most at stake in this context. This view is supported by the lack of any clear evidence that IL has contributed positively to an emancipatory transformation in Northern Ireland.

Individualist liberalism versus critical recognition theory As a model of egalitarian democracy, IL emphasizes the need for a constitutional order to be regulated by appropriate principles of justice and a framework of rights that can guarantee to each individual conditions of free and equal citizenship. IL gives equal individual autonomy for all people its highest priority, and its commitment to justice is framed by the need to equalize opportunities for autonomy for each individual citizen. The ontology at the heart of this model is individualistic in two senses. First it considers no group commitment to be essential to individual identity, and, second, it views as a threat to individual autonomy any possible role for social groups in the institutional structure of politics. For this reason no ethical ties to familial, social, cultural, religious, or national groups should be written into normative accounts of freedom or justice that offer appropriate grounds for the framework of rights that will underpin an egalitarian democracy. This perspective relies on an ontological account of the human person that emphasizes strongly the capacity we have to distance ourselves from any and all ethical ties to communities of origin, ties that may well have been constitutive of our personal identities at an earlier stage of life. IL abstracts individuals from their particular contexts, especially with respect to political commitments of groups, or feelings of loyalty and belonging that individuals may have to the cultural communities with which they identify. Since commitments to national groups must also be seen as potential constraints on individual autonomy, especially in cases of national conflict, egalitarian democracy must be based on political principles that have a post-national character. If our autonomy is not, therefore, to be constrained in arbitrary ways, and if we are not to remain chained to commitments that we did not choose ourselves, then IL insists that social groups should not be afforded an unwarranted ontological status in our theoretical framework of analysis.

92

Shane O’Neill

With respect to its egalitarian account of democratic politics, IL stresses the capacities individual citizens have to argue rationally about their own interests in the public sphere. The interests that are articulated in the public sphere should be taken up in a representative democratic system without the distorting effects that would inevitably follow from any attempt to formalize the role of specific social groups in political life. In effect, when it comes to politics, social groups have no ontological status since they hinder the prospects for fair outcomes emerging from a process of democratic deliberation in which each individual must count as one citizen and no individual should count as more than one. Just political arrangements that secure for each individual the rights of free and equal citizenship should have no place for group rights, privileges, or identity-related designations. Democratic politics should be driven by a process of rational deliberation, one in which all relevant arguments are given due consideration before legally binding decisions are made. The recognition theoretical model has a very different social ontology to IL. Rather than considering social groups to be a threat to individual freedom, it acknowledges the inextricable connection between freedom for individuals and the positive recognition of group identities. Individual freedom, in RT, is conditional on the collective freedom of those groups to which a specific individual feels a strong affiliation, loyalty, or sense of belonging. A group is free if it can express its distinctiveness without cost to the status of its individual members as equal citizens. The individual freedom of gay and lesbian citizens, for example, has been enhanced by the positive recognition of their collective distinctiveness as social groups. The recognition theoretical model opposes group essentialism in that it acknowledges the capacity of individuals to change their group affiliations and sees no group characteristic as essential or primary to any individual. Yet it considers individual identities to be relationally constituted, situated as they are within networks of group memberships. Political conflict, for RT, typically occurs between identity-constituting social groups rather than individuals as such. In the case of Northern Ireland, the groups in conflict have been the citizens who identify with the national communities of British unionism and Irish nationalism. Social groups are relationally constructed which means that they are differentiated by the ways in which members of one group stand in relation to another. Conflict typically occurs when group relations are hierarchical, when certain structures of power and privilege have allowed for the domination of one group who gain systematic advantages at the expense of others. In this context Irish nationalists have struggled against any constitutional arrangement that would subject them to domination as a national minority within the United Kingdom, while unionists have resisted incorporation into a united Ireland that would leave them similarly vulnerable to domination. This, as we know, led to a quarter of a century of politically motivated violence, many deaths, and a lot of unnecessary misery. From a normative perspective, RT suggests that we establish a constitutional order that will be effective in preventing the domination of one group

Achieving democracy

93

by another. If we are concerned about individual freedom, then we need to find ways of dismantling group hierarchies that lead to domination. Group relations of this kind clearly have a devastating impact on individual freedom for members of the dominated group, but also, most obviously in cases of violent conflict, on the individual freedom of all citizens. If we are to bring group domination to an end we need to find appropriate political structures that protect the security and guarantee the equality of each individual citizen. This requires a political order that eliminates the structures of inequality that have underpinned group domination, an order that affords each citizen equal dignity in their differing identity-forming contexts. Such an order may require, pace IL, a variety of group-protective, political, and legal measures, depending on the specific nature of the inequalities and hierarchical group relations involved in particular contexts. What is required in all cases is a political order that facilitates the mutual recognition of all citizens as equals in their differences. It must be stressed that individual freedom has been enhanced greatly in highly significant ways by the achievements of the peace process. The first priority in protecting individual freedom and security in this case has been to find a just and democratically legitimate way of ending the violence. Not only has the revisionist consociationalism of the Agreement facilitated a process of demilitarization in relation to state and paramilitary forces, thereby saving many lives and reducing greatly the misery that was caused by violence and militarism, but it has also secured for members of both national groups a fair settlement that allows them to recognize each other as equals in their national differences. For advocates of RT, therefore, it seems clear that if we have an interest in establishing an egalitarian democratic order in Northern Ireland, one that will allow people to find a way beyond the destructive conflict they have endured, then we should acknowledge the hugely positive advances that have been made possible by the process of mutual national recognition that is at the heart of the Agreement. In contrast, some of the academic critics of McGarry and O’Leary’s work seem to have taken IL as their normative compass.4 While these critics consider those features of national group 4

A. Oberschall and L. K. Palmer (2005) “The failure of moderate politics: The case of Northern Ireland,” in I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (eds) Power Sharing: New Challenges for Divided Societies, London, Pluto Press, pp. 77–91; I. O’Flynn (2003) “The problem of recognising individual and national identities: A liberal critique of the Belfast Agreement,” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 6(3), 129–53; R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 36–52; R. Taylor (2006) “The Belfast Agreement and the politics of consociationalism: A critique,” The Political Quarterly 77(2), 217–26; R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2003) “A route to stability: The review of the Belfast Agreement,” Belfast, Democratic Dialogue, http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/dd/papers/dd03agreview. pdf; R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2005) The Trouble with Northern Ireland: The Belfast Agreement and Democratic Governance, Dublin, TASC.

94

Shane O’Neill

recognition that have been central to the peace process as obstacles to the social transformation that is required to end the conflict, from the perspective of RT it is only through a process of constitutional change that embodies the mutual recognition of rival national groups that this transformative process can get under way.

Revisionist consociationalism as egalitarian democracy As McGarry and O’Leary are well aware, their IL critics consider the arrangements that are now in place to take us in the wrong direction altogether,5 as they are said to “entrench”6 or “exacerbate”7 the very structures of group difference that have generated the conflict in the first place, thus making those structures harder than ever to dismantle. These critics have argued for: (a) a democratic regime with no need for formal group affiliation or recognition, where individuals are free to act, vote, and represent without any such group-based restrictions; (b) political and social integration rather than consociation or national group autonomy; (c) a post-national constitutional order rather than one that is constantly vulnerable to the destabilizing effects of a zero-sum conflict over state sovereignty; and (d) a political process focused on tackling injustices of class and gender rather than one that feeds the aspirations of alleged ethnic entrepreneurs. I will take up each of these four issues in turn here and will argue that advocates of a strongly individualistic, integrated, post-national, liberal order in Northern Ireland have typically failed to grasp the group-differentiated realities of structural inequality that are stressed by RT. These political structures must be addressed if the transformation of such a conflict is to be effective and durable. IL fails, as a model of egalitarian democracy, to deliver an adequate normative framework for dealing with the challenges that have been faced by those engaged in this peace process. The first IL worry, (a), is that the arrangements that are in place now privilege certain national group identities over others group identities, and that they also fail to give due and equal weight in the political process to individuals who have weak (if any) sense of belonging to national groups.8 The critics do not fully appreciate the extent to which the institutional framework of the Agreement is, as McGarry and O’Leary have stressed, a liberal and not a corporate consociation. Apart from the explicit provisions in the Agreement (Section 6) on rights and equality, there is an unrestricted competition for votes in elections, with ministerial portfolios allocated on the strength of party representation in the Assembly, not on national affiliation. 5 6

7 8

Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement.” Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” pp. 11–12; Oberschall and Palmer, “The failure of moderate politics,” p. 77. O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” p. 141. Taylor, “The Belfast Agreement,” pp. 218–21; O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities.”

Achieving democracy

95

Membership of the Assembly and of the Executive, therefore, reflects the free choices of individual voters under an electoral system that is, as McGarry and O’Leary rightly point out, far more likely to secure representation for smaller parties (without any clear affiliation to a national tradition) representing minority interests than would the alternative, majoritarian alternative vote system that is favoured by some of these critics.9 What the critics seem not to have fully appreciated are the reasons why political participants in Northern Ireland continue to vote as they do for parties that are representative of national blocs. Revisionist consociationalists are right to point out that this reflects the political priorities of the voters and the need they have for reassurance that their national identities will be recognized and respected. That should come as no surprise considering the long history of antagonism between the two national communities, and the strong resistance that both national groups have engaged in with respect to the integrationist ambitions of some members of the other community. The rules of designation in the Assembly that govern the voting procedures for important legislation requiring cross-community support must be considered in this context. They are there to ensure that neither national community should be excluded from an effective voice on key matters that affect them, but these rules could, as McGarry and O’Leary have indicated, be modified by agreement at any stage, should they no longer be needed. The second worry that IL critics have expressed, (b), is that the consociational architecture of the Agreement entrenches or exacerbates community division thereby reproducing and fostering sectarianism across society. They stress the benefits of political and social integration over the national group autonomy they associate with consociationalism. But once again, they seem to have failed to notice what kind of society Northern Ireland actually is, and they underestimate the need that members of the main national groups have for positive recognition of their group differences. The agreed institutions are designed to defuse and to render manageable any causes of division between the national communities by facilitating a power-sharing arrangement within a binational context where each tradition enjoys a “parity of esteem.” Enforcing integration would hardly be a liberal solution to the realities of group difference and the enduring strength of the national traditions, reinforced as they are by cultural, educational, and religious structures that people choose to retain. It would not only be unproductive but also unjust to force one or the other national community to assimilate to an exclusively British or Irish ethos. Within the binational context that is required in Northern Ireland as a matter of justice,10 some significant challenges remain, particularly with 9

10

O’Flynn, “The problem of recognising individual and national identities,” pp. 142–143; Wilford and Wilson, “A route to stability,” pp. 14–15. O’Neill, “Justice in ethnically diverse societies.”

96

Shane O’Neill

respect to the public expression of cultural and national differences. There is certainly the potential for flags, emblems, marches, and cultural activities to be exploited for malign reasons, to foster sectarian division, and to undermine the achievements of recent times. It will take some considerable time to put measures in place that will allow these matters to be managed effectively. The key challenge is to ensure that they are handled in ways that give voice, through practices of dialogue, to all affected and that do not privilege one tradition over others,11 and this might require further legislation in the future to ensure cultural equality across Northern Ireland. The goal must be to bring these cultural practices into line with an inclusive political ethos that allows all citizens to celebrate their differences under conditions of equality. Individualist liberal critics have also argued for, (c), that the way in which the key constitutional question has been handled encourages an ongoing conflict over sovereignty, instead of establishing a post-national form of politics in Northern Ireland. They fail to notice the impact of the federal and confederal dimensions of the settlement stressed by McGarry and O’Leary, this being the most significant way in which they have revised consociational theory. The Agreement’s north–south and east–west (British–Irish) features go some way to defusing such a conflict over national sovereignty, and once again the critics have overlooked the importance that most supporters of the main parties in Northern Ireland attach to the question of its constitutional status. The binational features of the Agreement and the constitutional ethos in which it is embedded represents a significant break from the politics of nationalism, if by that we understand the attempt to divide the world up according to the principle of “one nation, one state.” The Agreement is certainly post-nationalist by those standards but it is not based on a naïve assumption that we can thereby move beyond the conflicting aspirations that are held dear within these two national traditions that have had such a long history of antagonism. Finally, IL critics have argued for, (d), that the agreed institutions, by privileging the politics of nationalism, leave us ill-equipped to tackle the more serious challenges that arise from inequalities based on class and gender. There clearly are serious economic inequalities within Northern Ireland that cut across the ethno-national divide, given the significant numbers of relatively rich and poor in both communities. In so far as these are supported by structures that provide systematic advantages for those born into relatively privileged socio-economic contexts, they should, as a matter of justice, be dismantled. The same might be said of gender imbalances in Northern Irish society, another inequality that obviously cuts across the national divide. There are also important egalitarian concerns regarding the status and socioeconomic position of members of those cultures, races, and ethnicities that identify with neither of the major ethno-national blocs, many of them representative of the growing numbers of immigrants in Northern Ireland. 11

O’Neill, “Liberty, equality and the rights of cultures.”

Achieving democracy

97

The question is whether or not these issues are more likely to be tackled under the binational, consociational arrangements that are in place than they were previously. Certainly by achieving an effective end to political violence, the peace process has already brought considerable benefits to those relatively underprivileged communities who suffered the worst consequences of the conflict and its associated communal tensions. It is clear, however, that much remains to be done and that the responsibility for tackling these challenges of justice is shared across the ethno-national divide by all parties represented in the Assembly. The hope is that these issues might provide a focus that will enable politicians and citizens to move, in time, beyond the constitutional issue, but that is something that will happen of its own accord if it happens at all. It is certainly not something that can be demanded by those who find the politics of nationalism somewhat distasteful.

Conclusion Individualist liberal critics have argued that McGarry and O’Leary’s model of settlement restricts the possibilities of social transformation in Northern Ireland by bolstering the structures of national group identity on which the conflict has been based. In response McGarry and O’Leary have criticized such liberals for their failure to grapple with the realities of division and the structure of group domination. They are right in this respect and I have argued here that by grounding the path of political progress on a real basis, they have better critical-theoretical credentials than these critics can claim. Even though IL is based on progressive values of freedom, equality, and justice, its individualistic ontology blinds it to the real basis of conflict and therefore deprives it of an appropriate normative response. There is, unfortunately, no short cut to a post-nationalist, liberal utopia in Northern Ireland and there is no evidence to suggest that any of the alternative policies advocated by IL could have secured the relative peace, stability, and justice among national groups now enjoyed by the people of Northern Ireland. One suggestion for McGarry and O’Leary would be for them to place greater emphasis on the extent to which revisionist consociationalism also involves social transformation. They should take care not to concede to their IL critics the progressive language of transformation and emancipation. For one thing, their own revisionist consociationalism is post-nationalist in at least one important sense in that it requires an acceptance of national diversity and an abandonment of any illusions of national purity. Since individual identities are constituted in part by group relations, this shift involves quite a considerable transformation in terms of the national selfunderstanding that members of each community have of themselves and of each other. This process of transformation, which is far from smooth or rapid, will be crucial to the reorientation of the national group relation in this context, moving it from stasis and antagonism toward partnership and cooperation.

98

Shane O’Neill

If we acknowledge that the quest for utopia should proceed in ways that are realistic and feasible, by meeting current reality (in all its ugliness) halfway, then we will see clearly the merits of revisionist consociationalism and the limits of the positions adopted by its individualist liberal critics. It is only when the national group relation in Northern Ireland is transformed in an accommodating way, based on positive mutual recognition, that we can effectively tackle other significant injustices, including those based on class and gender. Only then can we also find effective ways of encouraging social and political integration without cultural or national assimilation.

3

Consociationalism and the wider peace process Adrian Guelke

Introduction The picture of the smiling faces of Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness enjoying a joke together is the most powerful positive image to have come out of Northern Ireland for many years. Not surprising, this image has rarely been out of people’s minds when analysing Northern Ireland’s political condition. Consequently, the timing of this volume could hardly be more felicitous from the perspective of the supporters of the current dispensation in Northern Ireland. It is too easy to forget, amidst all the current goodwill, that there have been many ups and downs in Northern Ireland’s political process over the last decade. Indeed, the process has at times resembled a ride on a roller coaster. And, to extend the metaphor, it is fair to say that it has caused plenty of discomfort over the years for participants who are not adrenalin junkies and do not enjoy the thrills of the funfair. For much of the last decade the watching public has averted their eyes in despair from the political process as there appeared to be no end in sight to continuing impasse. I deliberately use the term “political process” rather than “peace process” in this context since an important feature of the crises that Northern Ireland has faced since the achievement of the Good Friday Agreement on April 10, 1998 is that the continuation of the peace process has rarely been in doubt in the midst of all the political difficulties that have arisen over the implementation of the accord. At the same time, very much at issue has been the quality of the peace that has been achieved. It is summed up in the words “cold peace,” a phrase coined by McGarry and O’Leary at the start of the peace process that has retained its resonance ever since the publication of Explaining Northern Ireland.1 But apparently it has lost its resonance for the authors themselves as their contribution to this book reminded me rather of the mindset of Pangloss from Voltaire’s Candide – that we live in the best of all possible worlds. I willingly accept that the situation perhaps merits the description of “as 1

J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Blackwell, pp. 396–407.

100

Adrian Guelke

good as it gets,”2 considering the depth of the impasse that had arisen after the Northern Bank robbery in December 2004 and the murder of Robert McCartney in January 2005. However, I do think that their analysis is overly sanguine. The separation of the political process and the peace process is worth commenting on since it has a bearing on a number of the issues that they discuss in their contribution. But first the wider context of the peace process itself needs to be spelt out since that too has to be made sense of for a reasonable judgement to be made of Northern Ireland’s political prospects.

The wider context of the peace process An unusual feature of Northern Ireland’s peace process from the outset was that it required a commitment by those in paramilitary organizations to cease their violence on a permanent basis well in advance of even the start of negotiations on a new political dispensation. In situations of violent conflict it is more common for the two to take place in tandem or even for violence to continue during the early stages of negotiations. Understandably, there was considerable suspicion among unionists that the reason why the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA) was willing to declare an open-ended cessation of the long war in August 1994 was that a deal between the British government and the republican movement had been done behind their backs. In fact, unionist fears were unfounded. There was no deal beyond what the two governments had announced when they had launched the peace process in December 1993. This was that in return for a permanent end to violence, the political wing of the republican movement, Sinn Féin, would be admitted into talks on the province’s future after a short period, to establish the good faith of the IRA’s commitment to a ceasefire. One might add to this that Peter Brooke’s statement as Secretary of State for Northern Ireland that Britain had no selfish strategic or economic interest in Northern Ireland, which was made in the dying days of Thatcher’s premiership in November 1990, was also important in persuading the republican movement to make a commitment to a negotiated settlement. It was repeated in the governments’ joint declaration of December 1993. Nevertheless, the obvious implication of the IRA’s announcement of a ceasefire, for all the attempts to portray it as a victory, was that the IRA’s long war strategy had been defeated. For many years republicans had believed, in accordance with the views espoused by numerous Third World revolutionary groups, that they merely had to maintain a stalemate and prevent normalization by the state to win. One of Brooke’s most significant contributions as Secretary of State for Northern Ireland was to disabuse republicans of this illusion. Unlike his predecessors, Brooke did not make 2

A. Guelke (2007) “As good as it gets?” Fortnight 451, p. 8. This piece was written before agreement between the parties on a date for devolution but anticipated that there would be such an agreement.

The wider peace process

101

extravagant claims that the IRA could be defeated. On the contrary, he emphasised that the IRA had the capacity to continue its campaign if its leaders so chose, but he argued that if the IRA’s violence continued it would achieve nothing. Lending verisimilitude to Brooke’s argument was the nature of the violence in the 1990s. The IRA had been drawn into a war with loyalist paramilitaries. Relatively few members of the security forces were being killed in the conflict. Further, Ulsterization and police primacy had put local forces in the front line of the state’s counter-insurgency efforts. Thus, whereas over 100 members of the British army had died in 1972, the most lethal year of “the Troubles,” only 23 members of the British army (excluding local forces from both these calculations) were killed in the five years from the beginning of 1990 to the end of 1994. This point is rather forcefully made by David Trimble in a piece on what he sees as misuse of the Northern Ireland model in the context of the Middle East. By the early 1990s, it was the IRA – not the British Government – that was forced to alter its approach in order to secure “inclusive” talks. And as to why this should have been so, it was the squeezing of the “military context” in which republicans were operating – above all else – that proved decisive.3 Trimble notes the claim of a leading figure in the Special Branch, Ian Phoenix, that by 1994 eight out of ten operations planned by the IRA’s Belfast Brigade were being thwarted and also that “the last time that a member of the British army had been killed on duty in Belfast was in August 1992,” while the last bombing of a commercial target in the city was in May 1993.4 In so far as Trimble lays considerable emphasis on the role that agents of the state within the IRA played in weakening its military capacity, his explanation in some respects overlaps with that of betrayal from within, popularized in the writings of Ed Moloney.5 Admittedly, it might be argued that in contrast to violence in Northern Ireland itself, the IRA’s two bombs in the City of London in 1992 and 1993 did have a political impact because of the sheer cost of the damage caused and because of the threat that further attacks might pose to the City of London as a global financial centre. This has formed the basis of the case made by unionist opponents of the peace process that from its inception it was motivated by the desire of the British government to appease the republican movement because of the damage these bombings had done. As mentioned above, a third explanation of the IRA cessation of 1994 was not that the long war strategy was defeated but that it was betrayed from within 3 4 5

David Trimble (2007) Misunderstanding Ulster, London, Conservative Friends of Israel, p. 15. J. Holland and S. Phoenix (1997) Phoenix: Policing the Shadows, London, Coronet, pp. 391–93. See, for example, E. Moloney (2002) A Secret History of the IRA, London, Allen Lane.

102

Adrian Guelke

the leadership of the republican movement. According to this view, those in the leadership intent on abandoning the path of violence so as to be able to pursue political careers actively sabotaged the IRA’s efforts so that, for example, the IRA was denied the means to launch a Tet-style offensive by the interception of a major arms shipment from Libya in 1987 on the basis of a tip-off to the authorities from inside the movement.6 However, of the three explanations, by far the most persuasive is that the IRA gave up the long war because republicans at last realized that stalemate was not working to their advantage and further that in the light of the talks among the constitutional parties in 1991 and 1992, it could no longer be assumed that there would be no political agreement across the sectarian divide, in which case the republicans might find themselves marginalized if the constitutional parties held their nerve. Another factor of some significance in this context was what might be called demographic optimism in the nationalist community. In the 1980s it became very evident that the gap between the Protestant majority and the Catholic minority was narrowing. In the past a higher level of Catholic emigration from Northern Ireland had counterbalanced the impact of a higher Catholic birth rate. With increasing Protestant emigration this was no longer the case and this was reflected in many indications of change in the relative size of the two communities. As a consequence it no longer seemed inconceivable that the day might dawn in which Protestants would cease to constitute a majority of the population of Northern Ireland. The political implication was that this meant that at some time in the future partition might be ended by democratic means through a vote in favour of a united Ireland by a majority of Northern Ireland’s electors. Far from discouraging such notions the two governments positively held out this possibility to nationalists in the provisions of the Good Friday Agreement. Thus, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland is required to make an order for a referendum “if at any time it appears likely to him [sic] that a majority of those voting would express a wish that Northern Ireland should cease to be part of the United Kingdom and form part of a united Ireland.”7 This is tempered slightly by the provision that border polls should not occur more frequently than once in any seven-year period. In sharp contrast to provisions for the internal governance of the province that emphasize the necessity for majority support in both communities, changing the status of Northern Ireland from being part of the United Kingdom to being part of a united Ireland only requires the consent of 50 per cent plus one of those voting in a border poll. The willingness of unionists to 6

7

What was being alluded to by those who coined this phrase (“Tet-style offensive”) was the offensive launched by the communists in South Vietnam in 1968 that changed the course of the war, not because of its military impact but because of its effect on American opinion. Quoted from the section on constitutional issues in the Belfast Agreement, the full text of which is reproduced in M. Cox, A. Guelke, and F. Stephen (eds) (2006) A Farewell to Arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement, 2nd edn, Manchester, Manchester University Press, pp. 461–62.

The wider peace process

103

acquiesce in these provisions can best be explained as due to their recognition that their position in the United Kingdom has never rested on any stronger grounds than the commitment of a majority in Northern Ireland to wish to remain in the United Kingdom and that prior to the Good Friday Agreement, the principle of consent had not been endorsed by the Irish government along with all of the significant nationalist political parties in both parts of Ireland. It might further be argued that the Good Friday Agreement and its successor, the St Andrews Agreement, provide some assurance to unionists in the event of a transfer of sovereignty, since unionists in that case would be the beneficiaries of the same guarantees accorded to the nationalist minority. (This is on the assumption that the Good Friday Agreement, as modified by the St Andrews Agreement, would not cease to operate because of the transfer of sovereignty, an assumption that in my experience academics find more credible than do politicians, whether unionist or nationalist.) But the real reason that unionists are not much exercised over the hypothetical question of a nationalist majority in Northern Ireland is that they do not expect a nationalist majority to eventuate for many decades, if ever. There are solid reasons to support these expectations. They include evidence that the narrowing of the gap between the communities has slowed to the point where it no longer seems likely that the percentage of Catholics in the population of Northern Ireland will overtake that of Protestants in the foreseeable future. They also include the much higher proportion of Catholics favouring the United Kingdom in comparison with Protestant support for a united Ireland and the likelihood that the growing immigrant population will favour remaining in the United Kingdom, just as immigrants to Quebec have tended to favour Canada over independence. At the same time, the simple existence of a hypothetical threat to Northern Ireland’s membership of the United Kingdom gives unionism its raison d’être and the assurance that the colours of Orange and Green will continue to dominate the political landscape. And acceptance of a political mechanism for handling the question of what state Northern Ireland belongs to is not the same as the resolution of that issue. It is not even the same as the readiness of the Scottish National Party and Labour Party in Scotland to agree that it is for future generations in Scotland to determine whether devolution is to be a stepping stone to independence or the saving of the Union, since the Scottish parties are not the representatives of ethnic groups.

Consociationalism and the peace process This is not to disparage the achievement of a truce in Northern Ireland’s long-running conflict. McGarry and O’Leary are right to insist on the importance of the achievement of the ending of almost all lethal political violence. The most important breakthrough was the IRA ceasefire in 1994, followed by the Loyalist ceasefire of the same year. The point needs to be

104

Adrian Guelke

underlined that this development preceded the establishment of consociationalism under the Good Friday Agreement and that the functioning of consociational institutions or their suspension has had relatively little bearing on their maintenance. Admittedly, rightly or wrongly, a considerable part of the impetus behind the efforts of civil society to encourage a settlement in the run up to the Good Friday Agreement was the fear that if no agreement was reached there would be a return to the era of the Troubles. In subsequent negotiations to advance or to fix the political process, such fears – and the mobilization of civil society – were largely absent. The political process had largely become detached from the peace process. This was in spite of the fact that the issues that gave rise to disputes in the political arena by and large concerned security. It might be argued that there was an assumption during the course of all the negotiations to fix the political process after the various suspensions of the institutions that if the Good Friday Agreement ultimately broke down irretrievably, the peace process itself might be affected adversely. However, in this context, it is worth pointing out that on a number of occasions unionist politicians proclaimed that the Good Friday Agreement was dead without its causing the alarm one might have expected if people had believed that the fate of the peace process was inextricably linked to that of the Agreement. Since the second IRA ceasefire in July 1997, consociational institutions have been functioning for less than a third of the time. For over two-thirds of this period running up to the tenth anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement itself, Northern Ireland has been ruled directly from London. What this surely means is that only very limited weight can be given to the role of the functioning of consociational institutions in underpinning the peace. So if the consociational deal established under the Good Friday Agreement and then re-established under the St Andrews Agreement is not primarily responsible for the peace, what are the factors that helped to end the conflict? As mentioned earlier, the perception of the republican movement that the stalemate in the violent conflict in Northern Ireland was not working to the advantage of republicans was a significant factor. This was not just a product of the successes of the security forces in countering the IRA’s campaign. It was also a product of the fading of the political hopes of republicans that the damage done to Britain internationally by the conflict in Northern Ireland might ultimately persuade the British government to alter course fundamentally and to contemplate acceding to the republican dream of a British declaration of intent to withdraw from Northern Ireland. Further, any prospect that Britain might be drawn into a wider conflict with the Republic by events in Northern Ireland disappeared, along with all the different political scenarios, including the mobilization of Irish-America that might be envisaged in such circumstances. The turning point in this context was the Anglo-Irish Agreement of November 1985, justifiably characterized by the leader of the Social Democratic and Labour Party from 1979 to 2001, John Hume, as providing the

The wider peace process

105

foundation for the peace process. The Agreement helped to halt the electoral progress made by Sinn Féin and also, once it became evident that unlike the Sunningdale Agreement, it was not going to be brought down by protests in the streets of Northern Ireland, it forced a rethink by unionists in their attitude towards power sharing. The Agreement institutionalized cooperation between London and Dublin that became the driving force behind negotiations among the parties in Northern Ireland in the 1990s. As the saying goes, the two governments have sung from the same hymn sheet ever since. They launched the peace process together in December 1993 and despite changes in government in both London and Dublin have sustained their cooperation through to its culmination in the success of the St Andrews Agreement in persuading Northern Ireland’s radical parties to share power in May 2007. Disagreements between the two governments have been few and far between and by and large they have been over tactical issues, not matters of fundamental principle. McGarry and O’Leary allude to one of the occasions when their differences did have their roots in divergent interpretations of the Good Friday Agreement. It deserves comment. On February 11, 2000 the then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Peter Mandelson, suspended the institutions of the Good Friday Agreement. This followed the failure of the Provisional IRA to start the decommissioning of its weapons arsenal or even to give an undertaking as to when decommissioning might begin. After George Mitchell’s review of the Agreement in 1999, the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) had been persuaded in the language of the time “to jump first.” That is to say, Trimble and his colleagues agreed to abandon the basis on which they fought the elections to the Northern Ireland Assembly in 1998 of “guns before government,” meaning that the party insisted on a start to the decommissioning of IRA weapons before the formation of the Executive. The party’s insistence on this condition had resulted in a political impasse. Mitchell persuaded the UUP at the conclusion of his review in November 1999 that the best way to break the impasse was for the UUP to agree to the formation of the Executive on the understanding that it would be followed within a relatively short period of time by the IRA’s first act of decommissioning. The crisis that led to the suspension of the institutions arose when the Provisional IRA failed to meet expectations in January 2000 that there would be “an event in the woods” that would assure unionists that decommissioning had begun. The British government took the view that suspension was a better course than the collapse of the institutions as a result of the resignation of the unionist members of the Executive, as it would be much easier to lift a suspension than to put the pieces back together again after resignations. The Irish government disagreed. McGarry and O’Leary place the whole controversy in the context of disagreement on the issue of policing rather than on the divisions in the IRA’s army council that prevented a start to the decommissioning. The Patten Commission report on policing was published on September 9, 1999 shortly after the start of the Mitchell

106

Adrian Guelke

Review. Pro- and anti-Agreement unionists were united in their hostility to its recommendations and strongly criticized the then Secretary of State Mo Mowlam’s initial welcome for the report and its acceptance in principle. However, McGarry and O’Leary squarely place the blame for the watering down of its recommendations in subsequent legislation on her successor as Secretary of State, Peter Mandelson. In this instance it is necessary to quote their words at some length. The UK government’s initial response to the Patten Report’s recommendations was minimalist, retaining much more power for the British state than had been wanted by nationalists, or recommended by Patten. Secretary of State Peter Mandelson responded to UUP leader Trimble’s difficulties with his party and the unionist public by unilaterally suspending the Assembly, which would happen on four occasions in total, in breach of the international treaty that had been signed with Ireland, and the agreed view that the people of Ireland (in both jurisdictions) should determine their own future. Irish self-determination appeared to be still subordinate to “Westminster determination.” These moves help to explain the Irish Republican Army’s reluctance to decommission its weaponry, which in turn worsened the position of unionist moderates.8 The problem with this account is that the Policing Bill that prompted most of the controversy over whether the government was retreating from a commitment to implement Patten was not published until the middle of May 2000. Not merely was this well after the suspension of the institutions, it was also after the Provisional IRA had announced its initiative to allow thirdparty inspection of some of their arms dumps as a way of defusing widespread criticism of its failure to decommission in January 2000 and also because the republican movement recognized that there would be no hope of securing an end to suspension in the absence of a major gesture by the IRA. It is fair to argue that the Irish government was opposed to Mandelson’s suspension of the institutions in February 2000. The suspension was a shock because the Irish government had harboured the illusion that the Good Friday Agreement established a constitutional formula for addressing the problem of Northern Ireland in perpetuity (or at least until the achievement of a united Ireland) and regardless of all eventualities. That British sovereignty over Northern Ireland meant that the British government could lawfully (as far as British courts were concerned) take action outside the parameters of the Agreement if it considered it necessary was an unwelcome discovery for the Irish government. However, there was no stomach on the part of the Irish government to press the issue and thereby put in question the continuance of the Anglo-Irish framework for addressing the future governance of Northern Ireland. Further, the Irish government shared the 8

See p. 35.

The wider peace process

107

British government’s view that the fundamental cause of the crisis in February 2000 was the failure of the Provisional IRA to begin decommissioning in line with the expectations that flowed from the Mitchell review. At the time of the Good Friday Agreement, both governments went to considerable pains to disguise the extent to which it was a product of their joint management of the Northern Ireland problem. They were helped in this respect by the role George Mitchell played as chairperson of the talks process. McGarry and O’Leary advance the view that the Agreement was the product of negotiations among the parties. They write: “Consociationists may feel vindicated that eight Northern Irish parties were able, largely voluntarily, to negotiate a consociation.”9 Their view can be contrasted with criticism of the Agreement by Roelf Meyer, the National Party’s chief negotiator during South Africa’s transition to democracy. Meyer attributed the problems that were encountered in implementing the Good Friday Agreement as due to a lack of local ownership of the deal and he recommended that the local parties should seek to renegotiate the accord without the presence of the two governments.10 It is unnecessary here to consider in any depth how much responsibility should be accorded to the local parties for the content of the Good Friday Agreement and how much to the two governments. Further, it might be argued that regardless of who wrote the Agreement, it was overwhelmingly endorsed by the electorate in Northern Ireland in a referendum. In any event, the case of the St Andrews Agreement is altogether more clear-cut. At the time of its publication on October 13, 2006 there was no attempt to disguise the fact that not merely had it been written by the two governments, but that at this juncture it was merely an agreement between them and that what was being sought was the acquiescence of the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and Sinn Féin in the arrangements and timetable the two governments had outlined. The only bit of the arrangements ultimately determined by the local parties rather than by the two governments was Sinn Féin’s readiness to assist the DUP to defy the governments’ deadline for the restoration of devolution by a matter of six weeks. The two governments have invested a lot of resources in the creation of the alliance of the radicals in Northern Ireland, including changing the rules of the political game in a way that hugely favours the radical parties. Under the Good Friday Agreement the nomination of the First Minister went to the largest party in the largest designation in the Assembly. Under the legislation implementing the St Andrews Agreement, the right to nominate the First Minister goes to the largest party in the Assembly, though one has to read the small print of the legislation to appreciate the point.11 That means that if 9 10

11

See p. 25. See “Call for fresh start on NI peace,” Irish Examiner, February 13, 2001, http://ted.examiner. ie/archives/2001/february/13/current/ipage_35.htm See Section 16C (6) of The Northern Ireland (St Andrews Agreement) Act 2006, London, The Stationery Office.

108

Adrian Guelke

Sinn Féin were the largest party in the Assembly, it would secure the right to nominate the First Minister even if unionists outnumbered nationalists in the Assembly. Undoubtedly, the two governments hope that the new dispensation will survive and that threats to its continuance, such as the murder of Paul Quinn,12 will be sufficiently exceptional that the devolved government will be able to stand the strain of such shocks. But there should be no illusions that this consociation functions within a larger Anglo-Irish framework and that, if it fails, the Anglo-Irish framework will remain and provide a safety net to prevent the peace process itself from being placed in any jeopardy.

Conclusions In this context, the factors that sustain the Anglo-Irish framework are a matter of considerable importance. From a long-term perspective, the most important of these is Britain and Ireland’s membership of the European Union (and previously European Communities). Membership gave the two states an interest in cooperating across a wide range of policy areas and, most importantly, the strongest possible incentive not to allow the problem of Northern Ireland to sour their relationship so that it affected their bilateral relations more generally. While the prevailing attitude in the United Kingdom towards further European integration is markedly sceptical, it would be a massive step for any British government to contemplate withdrawal from the European Union, so such an eventuality disturbing the Anglo-Irish framework seems unlikely. McGarry and O’Leary pigeonhole critics of Northern Ireland’s consociation under a whole variety of labels. These include civic nationalists, postnational transformers, and centripetalists. The critics have plenty of material to work with, as the peace that Northern Ireland currently enjoys is very far from perfect and the current arrangements seem likely to entrench and to perpetuate Northern Ireland’s divisions, though the difficulty here is that it is hard to imagine what political strategy could possibly overcome these divisions. In any event, consociation is the clear preference of Northern Ireland’s external managers and is likely to remain so. In fact, consociation is very commonly the preference of external parties seeking to create stability in a deeply divided society, as Cyprus, Bosnia, and Rwanda, among other cases, attest. And, as these cases also underline, the results have been decidedly mixed. However, it would be wrong to lay the blame for failure on the consociational model itself. When liberal democracy fails, there is little inclination to place the responsibility on liberal democracy as a model of governance rather than the specific political context in the particular case 12

On this case, see S. Breen “Fatal attack on Paul Quinn was ‘ordered by Provisional IRA,’” Sunday Tribune, October 28, 2007.

The wider peace process

109

and, for the most part, the circumstances of the failure of consociation do not justify blaming the consociational model itself. And since it was AngloIrish cooperation that created the conditions for ending the Troubles in the first place, it would seem misguided to object to the current dispensation to the point of rejecting the Anglo-Irish framework for the management of the conflict. That would cause far more problems than any that might arise if the smiles were to disappear from the faces of Northern Ireland’s First Minister and Deputy First Minister – whoever might occupy these positions.

4

Peace by design? Towards “complex power sharing” Stefan Wolff

Introduction Self-determination disputes are, rightly or wrongly, considered as among the most intractable, violent, and destructive forms of conflict that societies, states, and the international community have had, and continue, to face. This view is empirically correct if one looks at the apparently unending conflicts that have plagued places as diverse as Sri Lanka, north-east India, the Great Lakes region of Africa, Sudan, the Middle East, and the Caucasus, among others. The conflicts in these areas have cost millions of lives, displaced many more people, wrecked entire national economies for decades, and seem to be “solution proof.” Yet, a corrective view to this initially very bleak picture is necessary. Not all self-determination conflicts are violent and destructive: Quebec and Belgium are two cases in point, but there was no serious violence in Crimea, Romania, Slovakia, and the Baltic states either, despite the highly charged atmosphere between these countries’ majority and minority populations. Nor do all self-determination conflicts evade solutions: Northern Ireland is a clear example for this, discussed at length in this volume, but there are others as well. The western Balkans, despite many other shortcomings, has not returned to the violence the region experienced throughout the 1990s and early twenty-first century. Constitutional arrangements in Bougainville, Mindanao, and Gagauzia, for example, may not be perfect, but they have provided an institutional setting in which ethnic groups can pursue their self-determination claims by political, non-violent means. In this sense, the settlement for Northern Ireland is not unique, but rather one example of a series of successful accommodations of competing selfdetermination claims. What all these cases have in common is the following. (1) They all acknowledge the significance of groups’ self-determination claims and the need to give them an institutional expression. (2) They are all based on the recognition that it is possible, and beneficial, to channel the conflicts that result from competing self-determination claims into institutions that enable all relevant parties to participate in, and influence, a political process that can deliver, by and large, satisfactory outcomes for them.

Towards “complex power sharing”

111

(3) The settlements upon which these institutions are built accept the complexity of the conflict situations they are meant to deal with – they are not one-dimensional arrangements offering “just” autonomy or power sharing or minorityrights bills, or improved economic development, etc., but they combine a range of different mechanisms to address the concerns of all relevant parties. A careful examination of the Northern Ireland settlement, therefore, can offer important insights into the workings of such complex power-sharing arrangements and offer valuable lessons for both conflict-resolution theory and practice. Laying out this position in greater detail below, I proceed in three steps. First, I offer a brief outline of the nature of the Northern Ireland Agreement. Second, I place this analysis in a broader comparative perspective. Third, I conclude by pointing out some lessons that the Northern Ireland experience has to offer beyond its own territorial boundaries.

The Northern Ireland settlement In order to appreciate in full why the Agreement in Northern Ireland, reached in 1998 and modified in 2006, provides a reasonable framework for a successful peace and political process, it is necessary to get a more detailed understanding of the conflict as such. The conflict on Northern Ireland is about national belonging. Two communities – unionist/loyalist and nationalist/ republican – have conflicting visions of Northern Ireland’s constitutional status as part of the United Kingdom or the Republic of Ireland, respectively. Overlapping with this fundamental political divide are further divisions that cut through Northern Irish society: religion (Protestant versus Catholic), language (Ulster Scots versus Irish) and culture (“British” vesus Gaelic). Any settlement of the conflict, therefore, required addressing the following set of issues: relations between the communities in Northern Ireland; the status of Northern Ireland within the United Kingdom; relations between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland; and relations between the UK, its constituent entities, and the Republic of Ireland. The Agreements of 1998 and 2006 provide a comprehensive institutional answer to these issues, an answer moreover that was negotiated between the main conflict parties, rather than imposed by well-meaning outsiders.1 The provisions of the 1998 Agreement extend to Executive and legislative power sharing, and additionally brought to Northern Ireland a wide range of human-rights legislation and provisions for victims. The design of the Executive power-sharing government relies upon the d’Hondt procedure for appointing ministers, thus reflecting party strength in the Assembly as a mechanism to ensure not only proportional representation in the Assembly, but equally in the Executive. Under the 1998 Agreement, the First Minister 1

The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf; Agreement at St Andrews, www.nio.gov.uk/st_andrews_ agreement.pdf

112

Stefan Wolff

and his or her co-equal Deputy First Minister were to run on a joint ticket, and, to be elected, needed concurrent majorities within both traditions (i.e. 50 per cent, plus one, of members present and voting in both the nationalist and unionist communities). Under the 2006 St Andrews Agreement, the application of the d’Hondt procedure was extended to cover the offices of First Minister and Deputy First Minister as well. Further changes that affect the Executive include a greater emphasis on the collective nature of government. While the 1998 Agreement had vested strength and independence into individual ministerial portfolios, the St Andrews Agreement introduced a statutory ministerial Code that requires ministers to ensure that all sections of both traditions in Northern Ireland can participate in the functioning of the devolved power-sharing institutions and that their interests are protected. It also opens up the opportunity for executive decisions to be taken by concurrent majority voting: when no consensus can be achieved in the Executive, a minimum of three ministers can require the application of this procedure and a decision by the Executive could be adopted only if an overall majority and a majority among ministers from both communities voted in its favour. The terms of the St Andrews Agreement also establish more clearly than the 1998 Agreement that the Executive is a collective organ of government. In particular, they determine that the Executive be the forum for discussion and decision making on any issues in the responsibility of more than two ministers, on the prioritization of executive and legislative proposals, and adopting an annual Programme for Government. Crucially, as another illustration of the commitment to power sharing, the ministerial Code containing all these provisions can be adopted and changed only on the basis of concurrent majorities in the Assembly. The legislative branch of government in Northern Ireland, the Assembly, is elected by single transferable vote on the basis of six seats being contested in all 18 general election constituencies in the region. Provisions for legislative power sharing include qualified and concurrent majority voting procedures, committee oversight of ministerial portfolios, and self-designation of elected members of the Assembly under the St Andrews Agreement. The most significant amendments to the functioning of the Assembly include a new power of the Assembly to refer individual ministerial decisions back to the Executive for collective consideration. Furthermore, the already existing Committee of the Centre is now on a statutory footing, and thus equal to other departmental scrutiny committees. At the same time, a special standing committee and an efficiency review panel were established to review the working of the institutions and, where necessary, recommend changes to their structures and procedures. Finally, members of the Assembly can no longer change their designation (“nationalist”/“unionist”) during an assembly term, except when changing party membership. Northern Ireland as a whole is a self-governing territory with extensive devolved legislative and executive powers, including in the areas of

Towards “complex power sharing”

113

agriculture and rural development; culture and arts; education, employment and learning; enterprise, trade, and investment; environment; health, social services, and public safety; regional development; and social development. Special arrangements prevail in relation to policing and justice, as well as national security. While the UK government will retain all competences in relation to external defence and significant powers in relation to combating terrorism, there is, under the 2006 St Andrews Agreement, provision for the devolution of powers in the area of policing and justice. Northern Ireland’s status within the UK is regulated by Act of Parliament (there is no written constitution), and any changes to its status as part of the UK (or the Republic of Ireland, for that matter) are subject to a referendum (“consent principle”). A North–South Ministerial Council (NSMC) allows for policy coordination between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. This involves primarily subject ministries, but in Northern Ireland under the terms of the St Andrews Agreement also gives the Executive collectively a greater role in preparing such meetings, while guaranteeing a right of attendance to the minister into whose competence a particular issue to be discussed at NSMC meetings falls. The two parliaments, the Dáil Éireann and the Northern Ireland Assembly (and/or their relevant committees) retain rights to scrutinize the work and decisions of the NSMC and its implementation bodies. A review group, to be appointed jointly by the Northern Ireland Executive and the Irish government is to examine the efficiency and value for money of existing NSMC implementation bodies, and establish whether there is a case for additional bodies and areas of cooperation within the NSMC. In addition, under the terms of the St Andrews Agreement, plans exist for the creation of a North–South Parliamentary Forum (bringing together equal numbers from the Irish parliament and the Assembly, and operating on an inclusive basis) and an Independent Consultative Forum (to represent civil society). Also established under the 1998 Agreement, the British-Irish Council (BIC) brings together the British and Irish governments and relevant executive bodies from all self-governing territories in the UK (Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales, the Isle of Man, and the Channel Islands) to coordinate policy and cooperate on issues of mutual interest. The St Andrews Agreement mandates the circulation of all papers in preparation for BIC meetings among all members of the Executive and an entitlement for relevant subject ministers to attend. Plans also exist under the St Andrews Agreement for the creation of a permanent secretariat of the BIC and an East–West InterParliamentary Framework.

Beyond Northern Ireland: comparative perspectives A striking feature of contemporary conflict-resolution practice is that a large number of actual and proposed settlements, much like Northern Ireland, involve forms of territorial self-governance. This reflects the assumption that

114

Stefan Wolff

such regimes can contribute to substate, state, regional, and international stability. In ethnically, linguistically and/or religiously heterogeneous societies in which corresponding group identities have formed and become salient, the degree of self-governance enjoyed by the different segments of society is often seen as more or less directly proportional to the level of acceptance of an overall institutional framework within which these different segments come together. Self-governance regimes are thus also meant to provide institutional solutions that allow the different segments of diverse societies to realize their aspirations for self-determination while simultaneously preserving the overall social and territorial integrity of existing states. In doing so, self-governance regimes above all offer mechanisms for conflict parties to settle their disputes by peaceful means. This dimension of conflict resolution has been long neglected in consociational theory. Only recently have John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary pointed out the important connections between, and complementarity of, consociation and territorial forms of self-governance.2 Beyond links and complementarity, however, there are also a number of specific instances in which the combination of institutions of territorial self-governance and power sharing is essential for the sustainability of conflict settlements. As far as the self-governance dimension is concerned, this is principally the case in conflict situations involving territorially compact communities willing to accept selfgovernance in the region they inhabit as the form in which they express their right to self-determination. This can take different forms. Self-governance regimes can be established in a single region of a state, such as in Crimea or Bougainville. It is also possible that multiple such regions are established, such as in the UK. The British example also illustrates that the level of powers and number of competences enjoyed by different regions need not be the same – Scotland and Northern Ireland enjoy far greater powers than Wales, for example.3 2

3

See in particular J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press; J. McGarry (2007) “Liberal consociation and conflict management,” in B. Roswell, D. Malone, and M. Bouillon (eds) Iraq: Preventing Another Generation of Conflict, Boulder, CO, Lynne Rienner, pp. 169–88; B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal and Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 3–43; and B. O’Leary (2005) “Power-sharing, pluralist federation, and federacy,” in B. O’Leary, J. McGarry, and K. Salih (eds) The Future of Kurdistan in Iraq, Philadelphia, PA, University of Pennsylvania Press, ch. 2. M. Weller and S. Wolff (2005) “Recent trends in autonomy and state construction,” in Weller and Wolff (eds) Autonomy, Self-Governance and Conflict Resolution: Innovative Approaches to Institutional Design in Divided Societies, London, Routledge, pp. 262–70, and S. Wolff and M. Weller (2005) “Self-determination and autonomy: A conceptual introduction,” in Weller and Wolff (eds) Autonomy, Self-Governance and Conflict Resolution, pp. 1–25, draw similar conclusions about the compatibility of, and likely need to combine, autonomy, power sharing, and other mechanisms of conflict resolution to achieve sustainable settlements. For a more extensive appraisal of asymmetrical federal systems, see J. McGarry (2007) “Asymmetry in federations, federacies and unitary states,” Ethnopolitics 6(1), 105–16.

Towards “complex power sharing”

115

Finally, it can take the form of a federation in which the boundaries of one or more, and possibly all, units are drawn to reflect specific regional ethnic demographies, such as in Canada, the former Yugoslavia, or the Russian Federation. There are a number of recent borderline cases, too. Macedonia, under the terms of the 2001 Ohrid Agreement, provides for territorial self-governance extended to local communes which are, for the most part, ethnically homogeneous. The constitution for Iraq of 2005, while recognizing the existence of the Kurdish region, equally offers other provinces (with the exception of Baghdad) a choice about whether they want to form a region at some future point. The significance of territorial self-governance for contemporary conflictresolution practice is also underscored by the fact that such arrangements figure prominently in a range of proposed settlements. The Ahtisaari proposal for Kosovo’s conditional independence envisaged a similar arrangement to that in Macedonia with local communes as the principle loci of self-government powers while additionally establishing the possibility of horizontal links between them, thus offering Serbs in the north of Kosovo the opportunity to create their own “region.”4 Other examples include the Annan Plan for Cyprus,5 the Georgian president’s peace initiative for South Ossetia,6 and Sri Lanka.7 Power sharing needs to be added to the equation in principally two types of situations. If the self-governing territories are ethnically heterogeneous, a regional consociation emerges, such as in Brussels, South Tyrol, and Northern Ireland.8 If the self-governing territory is significant relative to the rest of the state in terms of size, population density, natural resource availability, strategic location, and/or cultural importance, the institutional outcome is a sovereign consociation, such as in Belgium or Switzerland.9 Regional and sovereign consociations are not mutually exclusive but can occur together, as envisaged, for example, in the Comprehensive Peace Agreement achieved in Sudan in 2005.10 Three characteristics thus emerge as crucial in determining whether institutions that combine power sharing and territorial self-governance are 4

5

6

7 8

9

10

“The Comprehensive Proposal for the Kosovo Status Settlement,” www.unosek.org/unosek/ en/statusproposal.html The Comprehensive Settlement of the Cyprus Problem, www.hri.org/docs/annan/Annan_Plan_ April2004.pdf “Initiative of the Georgian Government with Respect to the Peaceful Resolution of the Conflict in South Ossetia,” www.president.gov.ge/?1=E&m=0&sm=5 Peace in Sri Lanka: Secretariat for Coordinating the Peace Process, www.peaceinsrilanka.lk/ For an extensive comparison of regional consociations, see S. Wolff (2004) “The institutional structure of regional consociations in Brussels, Northern Ireland, and South Tyrol,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 10(3), 387–414. Sovereign consociations are, of course, also possible without provisions for territorial selfgovernance. The key example here is Lebanon, yet Lebanon, too, underlines the importance of self-governance (or segmental/group autonomy), in this case taking the form of non-territorial, or cultural/personal autonomy extending to individuals as members of a group rather than to individuals living in a specific territory. “Comprehensive Peace Agreement,” www.usip.org/library/pa/sudan/cpa01092005/cpa_toc.html

116

Stefan Wolff

potentially useful in ensuring the sustainability of conflict settlements: the compactness of groups’ settlement patterns in a given state; the degree of ethnic heterogeneity in the territorial entities to which powers and competences of self-governance are to be assigned; and the significance of the territory relative to the rest of the state. A fourth situational characteristic – cross-border links – also shapes institutional design in a significant way, as we have seen in the above summary of the features of the Northern Ireland Agreement. This is important for consociational theory and practice in two ways: on the one hand, it has barely figured in theorizing about conflict settlements generally; and it is often, wrongly, rejected as part of the powers to be devolved to self-governing territories, but is increasingly necessary for these powers to be discharged effectively.11 As indicated above, the situation in Northern Ireland has specific characteristics that inform the institutional design of the settlement reached in 1998/2006. The two most important features are that Northern Ireland is a territorially distinct entity which is ethnically heterogeneous (in McGarry and O’Leary’s terms, binational),12 i.e. Northern Ireland is a mixed region. This required the conflict settlement to include power sharing at the regional level between the two communities, and, as a precondition for the establishment of these power-sharing institutions, regional territorial autonomy. There is furthermore a significant cross-border dimension to the conflict in Northern Ireland, manifesting itself in the strong historical and contemporary links between one of the two communities in the region and the Republic of Ireland – links that are both of an ethnic nature (nationalists/ republicans consider the Republic as their kin state) and had until recently also an international legal-institutional dimension in the form of the territorial claim by the Republic of Ireland to the entire island, laid down in its 1937 constitution. Revising the Irish constitution was one important implication for conflict resolution; equally significant, however, was the creation of cross-border institutions. A final feature of the situation in Northern Ireland is the small size of the region (territorially and demographically) relative to the rest of the UK. This meant that the settlement of the Northern Ireland conflict did not require power-sharing institutions at the centre. 11

12

On the potential contribution of “para-diplomacy” to conflict resolution, see S. Wolff (2007) “Paradiplomacy: Scope, opportunities and challenges,” The Bologna Center Journal of International Affairs 10, 141–50, http://bcjournal.org/2007 The use of the terms “mixed” or “binational,” in my view, implies more than merely demographic diversity. It also signifies that populations in the region have different positions towards the conflict. This can mean that: (a) the conflict as such originates in the relationship between the groups in the region (as in Northern Ireland); (b) the conflict is between one group and the state, and other groups in the region side with the state (as in Kosovo); (c) the conflict is between one group and the state, and other groups in the region side with the group, but on condition of certain “pay-offs” (as in South Tyrol); and (d) there are parallel conflicts between groups alongside a principal group–state conflict (as in Darfur).

Towards “complex power sharing”

117

In its two key characteristics – embodied in the notion of a mixed region – Northern Ireland resembles a number of other cases: Gagauzia (Moldova), Crimea (Ukraine), South Tyrol (Italy), the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Brussels (Belgium), Bougainville (Papua New Guinea), and Mindanao (The Philippines).13 As diverse as the dynamics of the underlying selfdetermination conflicts in these different cases may be, they still offer a very useful comparative sample for examining the nature of conflict settlements in places in which at least one of the conflict parties has a territorial base, albeit one in which it shares space with one or more other groups who take different positions in the conflict. The first question, then, to ask of the settlements in these cases is whether they involve forms of regional territorial autonomy. In fact, they all do, yet there are interesting differences. Bougainville and Crimea are territorially well defined because of their (pen)insular character. In Gagauzia and Mindanao, where such relatively straightforward boundary demarcations were not possible, local referenda were used to determine which local communities wanted to join the respective autonomies.14 In South Tyrol the boundaries of the autonomous province were largely determined on the basis of the historical entity of South Tyrol, but some “adjustments” were made to incorporate some predominantly German-speaking municipalities that would have otherwise been part of the province of Trentino. The second important feature that distinguishes South Tyrol from the other cases here is that it was not an entity in its own right under the provisions of the 1948 and 1971 autonomy statutes, but rather was joined with the province of Trento into a region and derives its autonomous status principally from the devolution of powers from the region to the province.15 In yet a different way of defining 13

14

15

The following comparative analysis is based on: “General Framework Agreement for Peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina – The Dayton Peace Agreement,” www.intstudies.cam.ac.uk/ centre/cps/documents_bosnia_dayton.html; “The Bougainville Peace Agreement,” www. intstudies.cam.ac.uk/centre/cps/documents_bougainville_final.html; “The Constitution of the Autonomous Region of Bougainville,” www.vanuatu.usp.ac.fj/library/Paclaw/Papua%20New %20Guinea%20and%20Bougainville/Bougainville.htm; “The Constitution of Belgium,” www.fed-parl.be/constitution_uk.html; “The Constitution of Ukraine,” www.rada.kiev.ua/ const/conengl.htm; “The Constitution of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea,” www.rada. crimea.ua/index_konstit.html; “The Law on the Special Legal Status of Gagauzia (Gagauz Yeri),” www.intstudies.cam.ac.uk/centre/cps/documents_moldova_law.html; “Peace Agreement,” www.intstudies.cam.ac.uk/centre/cps/documents_philippines_final.html; The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations, and Agreement at St Andrews; The Statute of Autonomy for South Tyrol, www.consiglio-bz.org/downloads/Statuto_E.pdf In Mindanao, an initial referendum took place in 1989 in which four of the eligible 22 provinces and cities opted for inclusion into the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao (ARMM). In 2001, a second referendum was held, and one further province and one further city joined the ARMM. In Gagauzia, only one referendum was held in 1995. In both cases, the autonomous entity that emerged as a result of the referenda was territorially noncontiguous. The revised 2001 autonomy statute constitutes the two provinces as entities in their own right, even though they remain part of the region of Trentino–South Tyrol.

118

Stefan Wolff

territorial boundaries of self-governing regions, the borders of the Federation in Bosnia and Herzegovina were determined on the basis of the outcome of a civil war and an international intervention that ended it. Furthermore, the mixed nature of the Federation led to its further territorial division into cantons, whose borders in turn reflect the local ethnic demography between Bosniaks and Croats. The bilingual Capital Region of Brussels only came into being as a fully self-governing region in 1989, consisting of 19 communes with a majority of French-speaking citizens. While this constituted major progress compared to the situation since the 1960s, plans to redraw the region’s boundaries have been part and parcel of a broader constitutional crisis engulfing Belgium for much of 2007 and 2008. The second question, of course, is about the nature of any power-sharing arrangements. And again, while none of the cases investigated here is devoid of some form of power sharing, the specifics of the arrangements differ widely. Two of the cases – Crimea16 and South Tyrol17 – involve power sharing at the regional level only, but only one of them (South Tyrol) is a consociation. Power sharing at the centre only is characteristic of the arrangements in Moldova. Central-level power sharing here, as well as in the case of Mindanao, however, is somewhat limited in that it extends only to the mandatory inclusion of members of the regional government into the national government. While regional representatives thus can participate in the national executive process, they do not have veto powers nor are there qualified or concurrent majority voting procedures in place that would increase the influence of regional representatives at the centre. The main benefit of these arrangements thus needs to be seen in both the symbolic recognition of the region (qua inclusion of its representatives into the national government) and in the establishment of formal channels of communication between regional and central executives (i.e. the institutionalization of a policy coordination mechanism). Mindanao, the Federation in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bougainville,18 and Brussels, all combine forms of central-level power sharing with regional power sharing. In the latter three cases, central-level power sharing is fully consociational in the sense that it amounts to meaningful participation in executive decision making by representatives of the respective regions (“jointness” in the words of McGarry and O’Leary). This underlines the earlier point that mixed regions will only become participants in a formal central, power-sharing arrangement if they are sufficiently large and important relative to the rest of the country. 16

17

18

Power sharing at regional level is not mandatory, but a likely outcome of the regional demographic and power balances. The self-governance arrangements in South Tyrol combine power sharing at the level of the province (South Tyrol) and the region (Trentino–South Tyrol) with far-ranging autonomy of the region from the centre, and regional competences, by and large, devolved to the provinces. The regional constitution of Bougainville determines mandatory inclusion of representatives of Bougainville’s three regions into the regional government.

Towards “complex power sharing”

119

The final question to probe is to what extent cross-border dimensions exist and are part of respective institutional arrangements. In neither of the cases examined here do any external territorial claims persist today. Cross-border dimensions exist most clearly in the cases of Gagauzia (significant Turkic community), Crimea (significant Russian community), South Tyrol (significant German-speaking/Austrian community), and the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina (significant Croat community). Institutionally, this manifests itself in a number of ways, all of which relate primarily to the “ethnic” dimension of the cross-border aspect. Even though the foreignaffairs powers that the four regions have are somewhat limited, they are nonetheless able to participate in the international arena in policy areas that fall into their competence, including the ability to conclude agreements with other regions and non-state bodies. Gagauzia and South Tyrol, furthermore, have a right to establish representations abroad (for example, South Tyrol has an office in Brussels, Gagauzia one in Ankara). Croats in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina have a right to privileged relations with Croatia, including the ability to conclude agreements with the Croatian state and its agencies. South Tyrol additionally benefits from the framework of the European Union, and there is a joint parliamentary body bringing together representatives from South Tyrol and the neighbouring province of Trentino with those from the Austrian federal state of Tyrol. Because of the highly decentralized nature of the Belgian state, Brussels has the most extensive powers in the area of foreign affairs among the cases here. In Bougainville and Mindanao the situation is yet again different. Indigenous Bougainvilleans are ethnically much closer to the people of neighbouring Solomon Islands than they are to any other community in Papua New Guinea. In Mindanao, the most important distinctive feature is one of religion: the majority of the population in Mindanao is Muslim, while The Philippines overall are predominantly Catholic. In both cases, however, cross-border relations are primarily functionally driven, i.e. the autonomous entities’ participation in the international arena is a function of the competences that they acquired through their specific autonomy arrangement.19 Recognizing that some, if not most, cross-border relations are functionally motivated is also of relevance for the other cases discussed here. The exercise of particular cross-border functions by autonomous regions is only in part motivated by specific “ethnic” concerns related to establishing better conditions to preserve particular cultural aspects of such an identity, for example, through improved cooperation with a kin state. Rather, cross-border activities should be seen as a logical extension of the competences that autonomous regions have, and their exercise by them is necessary both to make the overall conflict settlement viable (e.g. by generating economic growth through 19

For an extensive assessment of the para-diplomatic powers of these two regions, see M. Turner (2007) “Autonomous regions and the contribution of international relations to peace and development: Mindanao, Bougainville and Aceh,” Ethnopolitics 6(1), 89–103.

120

Stefan Wolff

direct engagement with foreign investors) and attractive (e.g. by symbolically recognising particular regions’ rights to participate in international affairs, without undermining the territorial integrity of an existing state).

The relevance of “complex power sharing” The brief comparison of cases beyond Northern Ireland indicates that there is a growing trend in conflict-resolution practice that starts from the assumption that in a broad range of situations neither territorial self-governance nor power sharing on their own is sufficient to offer a viable solution to self-determination conflicts. Their combination, including further hitherto often-neglected mechanisms, is assumed to be better able to address the complexity of such conflicts in terms of the parties directly or indirectly involved in them and their competing demands, and thus provide the institutional framework in which an overall stable and durable conflict settlement can be achieved. This emerging practice of conflict settlement can be referred to as “complex power sharing.”20 Complex power sharing, in the way it is understood here, refers to a practice of conflict settlement that has a form of self-governance regime at its heart, but whose overall institutional design includes a range of further mechanisms for the accommodation of ethnic diversity in divided societies, including those recommended by advocates of liberal consociationalism,21 integration,22 and power dividing.23 Complex power sharing is thus the 20

21 22

23

I borrow the term “complex power-sharing” from a research project funded by the Carnegie Corporation of New York (“Resolving self-determination disputes through complex power sharing arrangements”). In this project, complex power-sharing regimes are distinguished “in that they no longer depend solely on consociational theory, or solely upon integrative theory,” involve international actors that “are often key in designing, or bringing experience to bear upon, the structure of the eventual agreement, or its implementation,” and “consider a far broader range of issues” and “address structural issues as diverse as economic management, civil–military relations and human and minority rights, and … do so at many different levels of government,” thus recognizing “that at different levels of government, different strategies may be more, or less, applicable, and consequently more, or less, successful, in engendering peace and stability”; C. Kettley, J. Sullivan, and J. Fyfe (2001) “Selfdetermination disputes and complex power sharing arrangements: A background paper for debate,” Cambridge, Centre of International Studies, pp. 4–5 (www.intstudies.cam.ac.uk/ centre/cps/download/background1.pdf). O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics,” uses the term “complex consociation” in a similar manner (pp. 34–35). Notably, McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict. For example, D. L. Horowitz (1985) Ethnic Groups in Conflict, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press; D. L. Horowitz (2002) “Constitutional design: Proposals versus processes,” in A. Reynolds (ed.), The Architecture of Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 15–36; B. Reilly (2001) Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict Management, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; T. D. Sisk (1996) Power Sharing and International Mediation in Ethnic Conflict, Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace Press; A. Wimmer (2003) “Democracy and ethno-religious conflict in Iraq,” Survival 45(4), 111–34. Notably, P. G. Roeder and D. Rothchild (eds) (2005) Sustainable Peace: Power and Democracy after Civil Wars, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press.

Towards “complex power sharing”

121

result of the implementation of a self-governance regime whose success as a conflict-settlement device requires a relatively complex institutional structure that cannot be reduced to either territorial self-governance, power sharing, integration, or power dividing. It is a significant advantage of liberal consociationalism, as outlined by McGarry and O’Leary in Part I of this volume, to offer real opportunities – theoretically and practically – to incorporate elements of integrationist approaches and power dividing. Within a liberal consociational framework there is room (and a recognized need) for self-governance, practically speaking a demand that more often than not precedes that for power sharing. In terms of integrating conflict-resolution theory and practice, and thus equipping practice with theoretically well-informed menus of feasible options to be applied in a specific case, the primary question is whether complex power-sharing settlements, like the one in Northern Ireland, are more than the result of misguided and ill-informed diplomats and policy makers making choices of short-term convenience rather than long-term prudence. There is little point in making immodest claims at this stage about the feasibility of complex power sharing, as conceptualized and analyzed here, as a conflict-resolution strategy equal, if not superior to that which existing theories prescribe. While complex power-sharing practice may eventually inspire a synthesis of existing theories in a complex power-sharing framework, there is as yet not enough real-world evidence about how stable such regimes can be under varying conditions. The cases examined herein are all similar to the extent that they comprise self-determination claims by territorially concentrated identity groups that lend themselves to the establishment of complex power-sharing regimes with territorial self-governance arrangements at their heart. Some of them have proven relatively stable over time (i.e. over ten years): Brussels, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Crimea, Gagauzia, and South Tyrol. Northern Ireland has, despite significant delays, achieved a remarkable institutional compromise. On the other hand, Bougainville’s settlement is too short lived to provide reliable data about its long-term stability. Mindanao has achieved only partial success in bringing peace to a troubled region of The Philippines. While the track record may be sketchy, the sheer range of cases in which settlements have been achieved that fall into the complex power-sharing category suggests that there is a clear trend of conflict-resolution practice that points in the direction of complex power-sharing settlements. This empirical evidence also invites further and more detailed comparative analysis. McGarry and O’Leary’s study of the nature of the Northern Ireland Agreement offers a useful starting point for such a broader comparative analysis, and, it seems, an example for a successful case of complex power sharing.

5

Implementing consociation in Northern Ireland John Coakley

Introduction John McGarry’s and Brendan O’Leary’s characteristically lively core contribution to this volume offers a useful development of their earlier writings on Northern Ireland’s recent institutional evolution. It combines analysis with prescription in a manner that reflects the broad trends in the deeply divided literature on consociational government, where advocates focus on the conflict-resolving capacity of this constitutional device, while opponents stress its allegedly divisive and undemocratic character. The present contribution shares McGarry’s and O’Leary’s normative perspective, in seeing consociational arrangements – especially in challenging circumstances where the primary axis of division is an ethno-national one – as the most obvious, but not necessarily perfect, constitutional formula if civil unrest, internal conflict, and political disintegration are to be avoided. This does not imply going as far as these authors in seeing academic analysis in the area as divided into two starkly defined camps: consociationalists and integrationists. Few specialists in the area would see themselves as falling unambiguously into one or other of these categories, though some might buy in, in an à-la-carte way, to one of these approaches. Many, however, would not wish to be associated with either camp, or, perhaps, even to acknowledge that such camps exist; and others would, as McGarry and O’Leary themselves implicitly admit, endorse consociation precisely as a means towards integration, thus straddling both positions. This paper considers three aspects of McGarry’s and O’Leary’s application of consociational theory to Northern Ireland. First, it addresses a clear empirical difficulty in describing the Good Friday Agreement as consociational: the absence in the Northern Irish case of a key ingredient in the classical definition of consociation, group autonomy. It suggests resolving this by reworking the definition of consociation. Second, it explores the political consequences of the electoral system, a feature whose importance has been strongly and correctly emphasized by McGarry and O’Leary. Third, it examines the formula used in selection of the Executive and choice

Implementing consociation

123

of First Minister and Deputy First Minister – another important application of the consociational principle in Northern Ireland.

Redefining consociation The integration–consociation dichotomy referred to above draws attention to a central dilemma in consociational theory. Defined as “government by elite cartel designed to turn a democracy with a fragmented political culture into a stable democracy,”1 consociational democracy was at one level explicitly conservative (some might even have described it as “integrationist”). Its defining political criterion as articulated initially by Arend Lijphart was a grand coalition cabinet.2 An expanded description added three further criteria, producing four classic conditions: (1) government by grand coalition, (2) mutual veto on the part of the coexisting groups, (3) proportionality as the principal standard of political representation, civil service appointment, and allocation of public resources, and (4) a high degree of segmental autonomy in those areas where joint decision making is not needed.3 It is clear – though strangely unacknowledged in the literature – that two of these criteria may be collapsed. The third incorporates the first: the proportionality principle necessarily implies grand coalition. Indeed, if the proportionality principle is to be disaggregated, there is an argument for doing so by distinguishing between power sharing and resource sharing (rather than between two levels where power and resources are shared – in public life in general, and within the political executive). In addition, there is a strong case for detaching the notion of segmental autonomy from the definition of consociation. At a theoretical level, consociation possesses the potential advantage of unidimensional clarity: it refers essentially to a form of sharing of power between groups at the same level. The notion of segmental autonomy, by contrast, belongs to a different category of approaches to the management of inter-group conflict: it refers to the division of power between groups at different levels.4 This can take place on a non-territorial basis, as in what is known as “national cultural autonomy,” or on a territorial basis, as in federal and quasi-federal arrangements. What is at issue here is a distinction in the decision-making process between contexts where decisions are jointly made and apply to all, and those where they are made separately with differential application. Maintaining the distinction between the sharing and the division of power is 1 2 3

4

A. Lijphart (1969) “Consociational democracy,” World Politics 21(2), 216. Lijphart, “Consociational democracy,” p. 213. A. Lijphart (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press, pp. 25–44. The term is being used here in a narrower sense than that described in D. Rothchild and P. G. Roeder (2005) “Dilemmas of state-building in divided societies,” in P. G. Roeder and D. Rothchild (eds) Sustainable Peace: Power and Democracy after Civil Wars, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, pp. 1–25.

124

John Coakley

necessary both to facilitate the categorization of approaches to conflict management and to clarify the definition of consociation. There is a more compelling reason for stripping down the definition of consociation than this theoretical one: if we fail to do so, we rapidly run out of empirical cases. If a significant measure of segmental autonomy is a defining criterion of consociation, then all of Lijphart’s classic mid-century examples (Austria, Belgium, The Netherlands, and Switzerland) are problematic: separate segmental existence does not of itself entail the degree of selfrule which Lijphart’s relatively demanding definition of group autonomy implies.5 It would be difficult to argue that in Austria and Switzerland the territories which enjoyed generous autonomy coincided in any way with the groups that shared power in government, or that these groups here (or in the other two cases) exercised meaningful non-territorial autonomy. Northern Ireland is even more problematic: the existence of de facto separate networks of Catholic and Protestant schools hardly amounts to a system of segmental autonomy.6 The case for distinguishing between thoroughgoing, inter-segmental power sharing (and reserving the term “consociation” for this) and group autonomy is thus persuasive, and allows us to continue to classify as consociational those power-sharing societies where describing the segments as possessing “group autonomy” would be stretching a point. If segmental autonomy is to remain part of the definition of consociation, its meaning must be relaxed to a point close to vacuity; it would surely be preferable simply to drop it. None of this should be seen as an attempt to undermine the concept of consociation, understood as a system of government in divided societies by which the coexisting groups share power at multiple levels, including the political executive, the public service, and representative institutions (which 5

6

Lijphart defines group autonomy as a system where “groups have authority to run their own internal affairs, especially in the areas of education and culture”; A. Lijphart (2002) “The wave of power-sharing democracy,” in A. Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management, and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 39. Lijphart’s earlier discussion of this device makes clear that what he has in mind is real self-rule by segments in areas of exclusive concern to them, with federalism as “an especially attractive way” of implementing this; Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, pp. 41–44. O’Leary lists eight features which he regards as evidence of “community autonomy and equality,” but none of these embodies autonomy in any real sense. The reworking of this criterion as “autonomy and equality” is instructive, supporting the case for some kind of redefinition. See B. O’Leary (2001) “Comparative political science and the British-Irish Agreement,” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 55. Elsewhere, though, while McGarry and O’Leary define this criterion with appropriate rigour as “autonomy or self-government … in matters of cultural concern,” they relax this definition to refer to “communal autonomy and equality” in actually citing examples of this in Northern Ireland – and their examples all relate to the issue of equality, not autonomy; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 2, 270–71.

Implementing consociation

125

is where the notion of mutual veto comes in). This reformulation of the definition does not detract from the value of the extensive literature on consociation, including that of its founding father. It is true, as McGarry and O’Leary point out, that Lijphart has recently described group autonomy together with power sharing as “the primary attributes of the kind of democratic system that is often referred to as power-sharing democracy or, to use a technical political-science term, ‘consociational’ democracy,”7 but this was part of a brief discussion in an article that otherwise entirely avoided the term “consociational,” using instead the term “power sharing.” In any case, in much of Lijphart’s earlier writing, such as his influential overview of Northern Ireland, he essentially equates consociation with the power-sharing–proportionality–mutual veto package,8 and much of the literature uses the term in this more restricted sense (as McGarry and O’Leary acknowledge). Elsewhere in his writings we find Lijphart using the term “power sharing” to refer to all four components, including group autonomy.9 It would be both unscholarly and deeply unflattering to Lijphart to treat his writings as sacred scripture, frozen in time and an appropriate objective of exegesis by true believers. His own thinking on the subject has evolved; and the greatest tribute to his work would be to acknowledge that the term which he placed centre stage in the literature of political science has acquired a life of its own. Researchers in the area of ethno-national problems will not be surprised that terms of this kind call for redefinition. Given the terminological chaos in other areas of this subfield, it is the unchallenged nature of the definition of consociation (as opposed, of course, to judgements as to its applicability) that is surprising. From a pragmatic analytical perspective, we need a term to describe the distinctive power sharing–proportionality–mutual veto package minus group autonomy; “consociation” is the obvious choice. Consociation, in this sense, may coexist with group autonomy, as in contemporary Belgium; but it need not do so, as in Northern Ireland, where such autonomy is lacking.

Electing representatives The notion of proportionality is central to consociation, however defined, and has particular implications for electoral law. This need not take the form of the single transferable vote (STV), though this variant has been commended as a mechanism for protecting the position of minorities over the decades, from Mackenzie in the 1950s to McGarry and O’Leary today.10 But 7 8

9

10

A. Lijphart (2004) “Constitutional design for divided societies,” Journal of Democracy 15(2), 97. A. Lijphart (1975) “Review article. The Northern Ireland problem: Cases, theories, and solutions,” British Journal of Political Science 5(1), 99, 104. A. Lijphart (1990) “The power-sharing approach,” in J. V. Montville (ed.) Conflict and Peacemaking in Multiethnic Societies, Lexington, MA, Lexington Books, p. 494. W. J. M. Mackenzie (1954) “Representation in plural societies,” Political Studies 2(1), 66.

126

John Coakley

two alternatives have been canvassed in such contexts. First, Lijphart has argued the value of the party-list system of proportional representation, which tends to tilt power in the direction of the party leadership, thereby strengthening its capacity to participate in inter-communal deals. Second, for very different reasons, Donald Horowitz has argued the merits of the alternative vote system as a device to encourage vote pooling, and therefore to bolster the position of moderates. It is worth exploring further the implications of these electoral systems, and we do so in the two following subsections. List systems of proportional representation The list system of proportional representation has been advocated as an element in the consociational tool kit on the grounds that, as Lijphart points out, it can give elites the flexibility to negotiate without having to look continuously over their shoulders at their parties.11 It has also been argued that it is more proportional than the STV system.12 On the first of these points, it is true that the list system can give the party leadership total control. But there are many variants of this formula, ranging from “closed” systems (where voters select a party only, and candidates are elected in the order in which they appear on the list, which is determined by the party) to “flexible” ones, where personal votes within lists determine who wins. A carefully balanced recent assessment of the comparative evidence concludes that while the electoral system may have a big impact on party cohesion, it is just one of several important factors.13 Nevertheless, it is clear that in Spain, for example, the closed party-list system has greatly enhanced the freedom of action of the party leadership, which controls the candidate selection process and therefore determines the composition of the parliamentary party.14 On the other hand, in Switzerland it is the voters’ preferences which determine who within a party is elected, and the system of panachage allows voters to distribute personal votes across parties.15 Notwithstanding the range of options between these positions, it is clear that at one end of the spectrum closed list systems can be used to give the party 11 12

13

14

15

Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, pp. 136–37. D. L. Horowitz (1991) A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional Engineering in a Divided Society, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, p. 191. M. Gallagher (2005) “Conclusion,” in M. Gallagher and P. Mitchell (eds) (2005) The Politics of Electoral Systems, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 553–62. J. Hopkin (2005) “Spain: Proportional representation with majoritarian outcomes,” in Gallagher and Mitchell (eds) The Politics of Electoral Systems, pp. 385–88. Of course, even in closed list systems the freedom of action of party elites will depend on the level of centralization of the party, and on the extent to which the general party membership (rather than a small group of leaders) is involved in the selection process. G. A. Codding, Jr. (1983) “The Swiss political system and the management of diversity,” in H. R. Penniman (ed.) Switzerland at the Polls: The National Elections of 1979, Washington, DC, American Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research, pp. 24–29.

Implementing consociation

127

leadership formidable power, greatly reducing the capacity of resignation threats to deflect elites from any change of course, however radical. The second issue is that of proportionality. There are significant differences between the two most widely used formulas for list systems, the d’Hondt and the Sainte-Laguë ones (with the latter, in its pure form, tending to produce the more proportional results); but it is undoubtedly district magnitude (the number of representatives per constituency) that has the major impact on the degree of proportionality. Other things being equal, STV is no more disproportional intrinsically than the d’Hondt system; indeed, given low district magnitude in the Republic of Ireland (an average of four deputies per constituency), the level of proportionality is surprisingly high, a feature attributed to the impact of lower preferences under STV.16 Of course, it is also true that the national constituencies used in The Netherlands and Israel, which can maximize proportionality, are impractical in STV systems, where inevitably smaller district magnitude also means higher thresholds for representation.17 There are, then, no grounds for arguing that “a modification of the consociational prescriptive canon is in order” in respect of the party-list system, at least for the reasons put forward by McGarry and O’Leary.18 They cite the example of a hypothetical election in a Northern Ireland-wide constituency producing a highly fragmented result. This, however, is a consequence of district magnitude, not the list system; and even if the list system were to be used in this way, a threshold clause could exclude smaller parties. But the exclusion of such parties can be highly dangerous; in the empirical example of fragmentation cited by McGarry and O’Leary, the 1996 Forum election, the d’Hondt system at constituency level in fact gave representation only to the five principal parties and to the small UK Unionist Party. In particular, it excluded representatives of the two loyalist groups with paramilitary associations whose inclusion was crucial, and it was precisely to ensure the representation of these groups that an unusual provision for the allocation of two additional seats to the ten largest parties was made.19 Table 5.1 simulates the outcome for elections to Northern Ireland’s domestic assemblies since 1973 under two list systems, on the assumption 16

17

18 19

M. Gallagher (2005) “Ireland: The discreet charm of PR–STV,” in Gallagher and Mitchell (ed.) The Politics of Electoral Systems, pp. 521–22. When direct election of 19 members of the Irish senate from a single nationwide constituency was attempted by STV in 1925, for instance, the ballot paper contained the names of 76 candidates, there were 67 counts, and it took three weeks for the results to be declared; the experiment was not considered a success, and this approach was discontinued. See J. Coakley (2005) “Ireland’s unique electoral experiment: The senate election of 1925,” Irish Political Studies 20(3), 231–69. McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, p. 14. On the election, see G. Evans and B. O’Leary (1997) “Intransigence and flexibility on the way to two forums: The Northern Ireland elections of 30 May 1996 and public opinion,” Representation 34(3), 208–18; and R. Wilson (1997) “The Northern Ireland Forum elections, May 1996,” Representation 34(3), 201–207.

128

John Coakley

Table 5.1 Simulated election outcomes for proportional systems, Northern Ireland, 1973–2007 Year

DUP

UUP

Other APNI nationalist

Other

Total

0 0 8 20 26 29

2 2 2 0 0 0

7 8 7 7 4 6

2 1 0 4 2 3

78 78 78 108 108 108

20 21 14 24 17 16

0 0 8 19 26 31

0 0 0 0 0 0

4 6 4 7 2 6

0 0 0 0 1 0

78 78 78 108 108 108

19 17 14 24 18 16

0 0 5 18 24 28

0 0 0 0 0 0

8 8 10 6 6 7

1 1 0 2 1 2

78 78 78 108 108 108

Other SDLP Sinn unionist Féin

List system (Sainte-Laguë, Northern Ireland level) 1973 1975 1982 1998 2003 2007

9 11 18 20 29 33

30 20 24 24 26 17

11 18 4 9 2 3

17 18 15 24 19 17

List system (d’Hondt, constituency level) 1973 1975 1982 1998 2003 2007

6 11 20 23 32 41

38 25 30 31 29 14

10 15 2 4 1 0

STV system (actual result) 1973 1975 1982 1998 2003 2007

8 12 21 20 30 36

32 19 26 28 27 18

10 21 2 10 2 1

Source: Derived from data on Assembly and Convention election results in Nicholas Whyte (2008) “Northern Ireland elections,” www.ark.ac.uk/elections/, with minor modifications. Note: The top part of the table uses the Sainte-Laguë highest average formula at Northern Ireland level; the middle part distributes seats within existing constituencies according to the d’Hondt formula. The party classification of candidates on the unionist side in the first two elections is not always definitive: DUP and Vanguard unionists were clearly defined, but the distinction between UUP and independent unionist candidates is not always clear (for example, in 1973 John Laird has been classified as UUP rather than independent unionist). For purposes of calculation, “others” have been disaggregated into separate parties, and popular independent candidates have been classified as distinct groups.

that first preference votes equate to party-list choices. The top part of the table reports the position had the elections taken place according to the Sainte-Laguë system, with all of Northern Ireland as a single constituency returning 78 members until 1982, and 108 subsequently. This method is likely to produce the most proportional outcome both because of large district magnitude and because the Sainte-Laguë formula is acknowledged as

Implementing consociation

129

the fairest mechanism for optimizing proportionality.20 The middle portion of the table shows the outcome in a more typical party list system, the d’Hondt system using the current multi-member constituencies. The bottom part of the table shows the actual results under the STV system. All three parts of the table illustrate the dominant position over this period of two Protestant-supported unionist parties, the long-standing Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) and its radical challenger the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), and two Catholic-supported nationalist ones, the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) and its militant rival Sinn Féin. The crosscommunity Alliance Party, like other small parties of the centre, tended to be marginalized in the competition between the two main blocs. If we use the top part of Table 5.1 as a yardstick, it quickly becomes obvious that the STV system tends to produce a more proportional result than the d’Hondt system if constituency size is held constant. If we compare the middle part of the table with the top part, the over-representation of larger parties under the d’Hondt system is clear (for example, the UUP in earlier elections, and the DUP in more recent ones). Under STV, the disproportionality is much less, as may be seen from the closer similarity between the bottom and top parts of the table. In fact, if we define “large” parties as those winning at least 25 per cent of the vote, then such parties would have won an average “bonus” of five seats under the d’Hondt system at each election over the period considered here, as opposed to an average “bonus” of just one under STV. It is possible to undertake a more systematic comparison of the three systems by computing an overall index of disproportionality. The obvious one is the Gallagher index, now generally accepted as the most satisfactory overall measure.21 This ranges from 0 (indicating perfect proportionality) to 100 (complete disproportionality), with non-proportional systems typically having a value of more than ten, and proportional systems having a value of less than five. In the case of the elections considered here, the Sainte-Laguë 20

21

See M. L. Balinski and H. P. Young (2001) Fair Representation: Meeting the Ideal of One Man, One Vote, 2nd edn, Washington, DC, Brookings Institution Press, pp. 71–78. For a carefully balanced discussion of the issue of proportionality, and of the difficulty in even defining how this should be measured, see M. Gallagher (1992) “Comparing proportional representation electoral systems: Quotas, thresholds, paradoxes and majorities,” British Journal of Political Science 22(4), 469–96. The effects of the various systems have been tested empirically by Benoit, who ranked the Sainte-Laguë formula as the most proportional among a set of available competitors; K. Benoit (2000) “Which electoral formula is the most proportional? A new look with new evidence,” Political Analysis 8(4), 381–88. M. Gallagher (1991) “Proportionality, disproportionality and electoral systems,” Electoral Studies 10(1), 33–51. The mechanics of the index (which may be defined as the square root of half the sum of the squared deviations of percentage of seats from percentage of votes) are described in Gallagher and Mitchell (eds) The Politics of Electoral Systems, pp. 602–5. As applied here, “other unionists” and “other nationalists” have been grouped as if they were single parties, while other very small parties and independents have been ignored. The resulting indices for the STV system are very close to those computed by Gallagher, but not identical, presumably as a consequence of slightly different ways of categorizing parties; for Gallagher’s indices visit: www.tcd.ie/Political_Science/Staff/michael_gallagher/ElSystems/index.php

130

John Coakley

system at Northern Ireland level would have produced an average index of 1.2 (ranging from 1.0 to 1.6); the d’Hondt system with constituencies as illustrated here would have yielded an average index of 6.7 (ranging from 4.6 in 2003 to 9.4 in 1973); while under STV the average index was in fact 3.9 (ranging from 2.8 in 2003 to 6.1 in 1982). Non-proportional systems If we leave aside consociational priorities and focus instead on trying to boost the position of the more moderate parties, another system may be considered: the alternative vote, which McGarry and O’Leary discuss at some length, and which they associate in particular with Horowitz. In Horowitz’s early work, his advocacy of the alternative vote is mild, confined to appreciation of the merits of the Sri Lankan presidential election system.22 This is true also of others whom Horowitz regarded as being favourable to this formula in the context of divided societies, such as Palley, who noted its capacity to assist the more moderate of two competing parties within the same ethnic group,23 and Laponce, who in fact considered STV to be more favourable to minorities.24 In his work on the democratic transition in South Africa, Horowitz went further, explicitly endorsing the value of the alternative vote in promoting moderate electoral outcomes, also in elections to representative bodies: by raising the electoral quota to 50 per cent, it encourages cross-ethnic vote pooling.25 He also criticized Northern Ireland’s STV system more explicitly on the grounds that it offered some incentive for cross-ethnic vote pooling, but not as much as the alternative vote.26 Horowitz’s support for the alternative vote in Fiji sparked off a sustained debate in which the only common ground was that while the alternative vote may sometimes encourage moderation there are circumstances where the outcome is far removed from this.27 22

23 24

25

26

27

D. L. Horowitz (1985) Ethnic Groups in Conflict, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, pp. 639–43; D. L. Horowitz (1990) “Ethnic conflict management for policymakers,” in J. V. Montville (ed.) Conflict and Peacemaking in Multiethnic Societies, Lexington, MA, Lexington Books, p. 127. C. Palley (1978) Constitutional Law and Minorities, London, Minority Rights Group, pp.16–17. J. Laponce (1957) “The protection of minorities by the electoral system,” Western Political Quarterly 10(2), 328. Horowitz, A Democratic South Africa? pp. 188–95. For a critique of the alternative vote system in this context, see A. Lijphart (1991) “The alternative vote: A realistic alternative for South Africa?” Politikon 18(2), 91–101. See, for example, D. L. Horowitz (2002) “Explaining the Northern Ireland Agreement: The sources of an unlikely constitutional consensus,” British Journal of Political Science 32(2), 213–14. The debate centred on the elections of 1999 and 2001 in Fiji, where (influenced by Horowitz himself) the alternative vote had been introduced as a device to broker peace between the indigenous Fijian majority and the Indian minority. See, in particular, J. Fraenkel and B. Grofman (2006) “Does the alternative vote foster moderation in ethnically divided societies? The case of Fiji,” Comparative Political Studies 39(5), 623–51; D. L. Horowitz (2006) “Strategy takes a holiday: Fraenkel and Grofman on the alternative vote,” Comparative Political Studies 39(5), 652–62.

Implementing consociation

131

What would have happened had the alternative vote system been adopted in Northern Ireland? Any attempt to simulate this encounters one immediate difficulty: data on Assembly elections are available only at the level of large, multi-member constituencies. The approach followed here rests on the creation of new, notional single-member districts, using local elections as the only available data source. Given the highly politicized character of local elections and the extent to which the STV system reduces the need for tactical voting and encourages instead sincere voting, it is reasonable to use these as indicators of local support for parties. For purposes of the simulation, local electoral areas were combined to produce 78 single-member “constituencies” for the period 1973–89. For the period 1993–2005, during which the size of the Assembly increased from 78 to 108, the 101 local electoral areas were each treated as a single-member constituency, and the resulting estimates were adjusted upwards to match the larger assemblies of that period. It had to be assumed that Assembly elections would follow the quadrennial schedule of local elections (rather than their own rather irregular timetable). A combination of 2005 local election data and 2007 Assembly election data provided a picture of what the 2007 Assembly election would have looked like had single-member constituencies been used. As a by-product of the alternative vote simulation, another simulation, this time of the probable outcome under the plurality system, is also presented. It is likely that the simulations provide reasonably accurate estimates of local patterns of electoral support.28 However, the single-member “constituencies” devised here would certainly not have been chosen had, say, an independent electoral commission drawn them up with a view to maximizing population equality. There are very big variations in population: for example, the average “constituency” population according to the 2001 census was 16,686, ranging from 4,120 to 37,691. But any simulation of this kind must choose between population equality (attainable by merging local government wards, but at the cost of having to rely on crude and probably unreliable estimates of party support) and detailed knowledge of local patterns of electoral behaviour (based on district electoral areas, which, however, are very unequal in size). Despite some difficulties in respect of earlier elections, the “constituencies” devised here were not unduly biased in the direction of any one party if we compare the most populous with the least populous ones, suggesting their adequacy for a simulation exercise of this kind. We encounter further difficulties in simulating the plurality system on the basis of first preference votes. It must be acknowledged that it is unlikely that such votes would have translated uniformly into categorical choices, given the tendency for plurality systems to encourage tactical rather than sincere voting: it is probable that the larger parties, and in particular those in the 28

The technical details of the approach followed to simulate the effects of the plurality and alternative vote systems are available from the author ([email protected]).

132

John Coakley

best position to deliver victory for their “blocs,” would have won even more votes, at the expense of smaller parties. The result of the simulations is reported in Table 5.2. The top portion of the table shows the distribution of seats in proportion to first preference votes, using the Sainte-Laguë formula. The middle portion shows the probable results had the plurality system been in operation. The effect is most dramatic on the unionist side, with the UUP enjoying a big boost in support. In 1973, for example, it would have won 52 seats instead of the 29 to which its share of the vote would have entitled it (in the Assembly election of that year, in fact, it won 32 seats). It would have managed to survive a strong DUP challenge in the early 1980s; but after 2001 this overwhelming advantage would have passed to the DUP, which by 2007 would have won 63 seats instead of its proportional 33 (in fact, it won 36 seats in the Assembly election of that year). The effects of disproportionality would have been less marked on the nationalist side, where the SDLP would have been the main winner. Its lead would, however, have been decisively lost to Sinn Féin after 2001 – by 2007, Sinn Féin would have won 36 seats, rather than its proportionate 28 (which was precisely the number it in fact won). But the big loser would have been the Alliance Party, which would typically have had little or no representation; the only exceptions would have been 1977 and 1993, when it would have won its due share. It must, however, be stressed that this analysis is generous to the Alliance Party: in real plurality elections, it is likely that many voters would switch to large parties for tactical reasons, exaggerating their existing advantage. The bottom part of Table 5.2 simulates the effects of the alternative vote system. It has been assumed that first preference votes under STVoffer a realistic simulation of the probable distribution of first preferences under the alternative vote system, and that as candidates were eliminated their votes would be redistributed in accordance with three crude but not unrealistic assumptions which reflect a more negative assessment of the probability of inter-bloc transfers than that of Horowitz. These were that: (1) votes of eliminated candidates would transfer to other candidates within the same bloc; (2) votes of eliminated Alliance and other non-bloc candidates would transfer first to other non-bloc candidates, and then 60:40 to continuing “centrist” candidates within the unionist and nationalist blocs, respectively; and (3) votes of eliminated candidates when no other candidate from the same bloc was available would transfer first to non-bloc candidates (Alliance and others) and then to the more “centrist” party of the other bloc (i.e. at this stage nationalist votes would transfer to UUP candidates and unionist votes to SDLP ones). There are obvious difficulties with this approach. First, personality factors might lead to some changes in voters’ first choices, and the smaller number of candidates would probably mean that more voters would continue their preferences across less favoured parties than they do in general elections. Second, no account is taken of possible changes in strategic behaviour that might be promoted by the alternative vote – the kinds of inter-party and

Implementing consociation

133

Table 5.2 Simulated election outcomes for plurality and alternative vote systems, Northern Ireland, 1973–2007 Year

DUP

UUP

Other SDLP Sinn unionist Féin

Other APNI nationalist

Other

Total

Proportionate distribution 1973 1977 1981 1985 1989

3 10 21 19 14

29 24 20 23 25

11 7 4 2 4

11 16 14 14 16

0 0 0 9 9

5 3 4 2 0

11 11 7 6 5

8 7 8 3 5

78 78 78 78 78

1993 1997 2001 2005 2007

19 17 23 32 33

32 30 25 20 16

6 6 3 1 3

23 23 21 19 16

13 18 22 25 28

0 1 0 0 0

8 7 6 5 6

7 6 8 6 6

108 108 108 108 108

Plurality system 1973 1977 1981 1985 1989

0 6 25 21 8

52 32 26 34 42

6 2 0 1 3

12 22 20 13 18

0 0 0 9 6

2 1 3 0 0

1 11 1 0 1

5 4 3 0 0

78 78 78 78 78

1993 1997 2001 2005 2007

13 14 27 57 63

50 48 35 6 2

2 8 0 0 0

26 17 16 11 6

6 14 26 32 36

0 1 0 0 0

8 2 0 0 0

3 4 4 2 1

108 108 108 108 108

Alternative vote system 1973 1977 1981 1985 1989

1 7 19 12 7

55 48 40 41 46

6 2 0 1 4

12 15 15 17 18

0 0 0 7 3

1 2 2 0 0

0 2 0 0 0

3 2 2 0 0

78 78 78 78 78

1993 1997 2001 2005 2007

6 11 17 43 46

63 48 46 20 19

2 9 0 0 0

29 21 17 18 14

5 15 25 26 28

0 0 0 0 0

1 2 0 0 0

2 2 3 1 1

108 108 108 108 108

Source: Local election results, 1973–2005, and Assembly election results, 2007 (www. ark.ac.uk/elections/). Note: “Proportionate distribution” refers to the distrubution of seats in proportion to first preference votes for the elections in question, using the Sainte-Laguë highest average formula. The 2007 simulations differ slightly from those in Table 5.1, where “Other” are disaggregated into smaller parties and groups. “Plurality” and “alternative vote” simulations are based on notional single-member districts.

134

John Coakley

cross-communal electoral alliances anticipated by Horowitz. The available data on the operation of the alternative vote in ethnically divided societies is too limited to permit definitive conclusions. Although Horowitz’s analysis of the 1999 election in Fiji’s common roll constituencies suggested that there had been a high level of cross-bloc vote transfers, there was little evidence of this in the same constituencies in 2006, nor in Northern Ireland local government byelections in 2001–8, which are conducted under the alternative vote system.29 Since the hypothesis that the alternative vote would promote change in patterns of vote transfers would need to be tested over a series of elections, ideally at national level, and we do not have data of this kind, we must restrict ourselves to the most plausible – or least implausible – inferences that may be drawn from existing data (including patterns of behaviour under STV). If we accept the assumptions that have to be made to carry out these simulations, then we reach the following conclusions on the reliance that may be placed on the predictions. It is possible to be quite confident of the prediction in 26 per cent of cases: one party won an overall majority of at least 50 per cent. In a further 59 per cent the inter-party balance was such that the result predicted is overwhelmingly likely. In 5 per cent more the outcome predicted on the basis of known transfer patterns is highly probable, leaving only 10 per cent of cases where the predictions rest on informed guesswork and there is a reasonable possibility of error. The simulation suggests that the alternative vote would have been even more favourable to the UUP than the plurality system. Its share of seats would have been higher than under the plurality system at all elections but one (in 1997 it would have won 48 under either system); and this system would have reduced the disproportionate lead of the DUP in 2005 and 2007 under the plurality system. On the nationalist side, the main advantage to the SDLP would have come after the entry of Sinn Féin into electoral politics, and it would have reduced the extent of the Sinn Féin victory after 2001. In view of the argument that this system promotes political moderation, it is worth noting that the Alliance Party would have been almost entirely wiped out: it would have been represented only in 1977 and 1997 (by two 29

Analysis of seven local government by-elections in Northern Ireland in 2001–8 under the alternative vote and where lower preferences were transferred offers no evidence of significant cross-community vote transfers. In nine constituencies in Fiji in the 2006 general election where there was potential for cross-communal lower preference voting, there is evidence of this in only three cases (in one, it had a significant impact); overall, the result was determined overwhelmingly by the ethnic composition of the constituencies. It should be noted that in Fiji it is normally parties rather than voters who determine lower preferences: the great majority of voters opt for a mechanism that passes control over transferred votes over to a predetermined party preference list. The kinds of ethnically mixed constituencies which Horowitz sees as important for promoting cross-bloc voting were largely absent in Fiji. In 1999 the gap separating the two main communities was less than 20 per cent in only 32 per cent of all common-roll constituencies; the corresponding figure in 2006 was 36 per cent; and, reflecting the realities of ethnic geography, the gap between Catholics and others in Northern Ireland was less than 20 per cent in only 19 per cent of the “constituencies” devised here.

Implementing consociation

135

members), and in 1993 (by just one member). On the other hand, it is true that this system would offer some help to the less militant parties in the unionist and nationalist blocs, though the political consequences of this would not necessarily have been positive. Overall, both the plurality and the alternative vote systems are strikingly disproportional: large parties (as before: those winning at least 25 per cent of the votes) would have enjoyed an added bonus of 19 seats under the plurality system, and of 16 under the alternative vote system. The big winners under the plurality system would have been the UUP and the DUP; with respective average bonuses of eight and four seats (these figures would be much higher if we consider only outcomes where the party won at least 25 per cent of the vote). Under the alternative vote system the UUP would have been the clear winner, with an average bonus of 18 seats, at the expense of all other parties but in particular of the Alliance Party, which would on average have won seven seats fewer than its fair share. The disproportionality index would have been 15.5 for the plurality system and 18.1 for the alternative vote system, though these figures might have been lower had the populations of the simulated constituencies been more equal in size. All of this is necessarily based on a formulaic exercise in simulation from STV election results. It is extremely unlikely that, had either of these nonproportional systems been adopted, the shape of the Northern Ireland party system would have continued to resemble that in Table 5.2. Parties would have been wiped out, or would have been forced into alliances to ensure their own survival, probably resulting in reversion to the kind of two-party system that had been characteristic of the period from the 1920s to the 1960s (under the plurality system), or to some kind of two-bloc system (under the alternative vote).

Selecting ministers Consociation implies proportionality not just in the election of representatives but also in the selection of ministers. Not surprisingly, this principle has clashed with the historically dominant majoritarian one. This section considers the application of the principle in Northern Ireland, beginning with an examination of changing political perspectives on this issue, continuing with a consideration of the mechanics of the system, and concluding with a discussion of the related issue of appointment of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister. The path towards power sharing In the European political tradition, where the struggle for parliamentary control over the government was one of the great battles in the war for democracy in the nineteenth century, the most characteristic principle of government formation to emerge implied rule by a majority: the notion that a government, however formed, could continue in office only for so long as it enjoyed the support of a majority in the popularly elected chamber. Although this became established constitutional practice, it commonly remained an

136

John Coakley

unwritten component of constitutional law, especially in monarchical systems. In line with this tendency, the principle of governmental accountability to parliament was not mentioned in the Government of Ireland Act 1920, which formed Northern Ireland’s constitution until 1972 (Section 8 simply provided that executive authority remain vested in the King, without specifying how his ministers would be selected). In the pursuit of a settlement since 1972, the notion of power sharing in government has been a key ingredient from the outset. A combination of local demand (especially from the SDLP) and Britain’s own imperial history (which had generated a wealth of experience in managing other divided societies) presented the administration with a rich menu of approaches.30 Ignoring hybrid models and the external dimension, there were several options and sub-options for ministerial selection in accordance with the power-sharing principle, and these may be grouped into two clusters. First, it could be based on the principle of subjective external monitoring: an executive would be acceptable provided it was so judged by a named person or agency, such as the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, or, more radically, a British–Irish institution (such as the later British–Irish Intergovernmental Conference). The initiative for this design might lie either with the parties, in a form of “voluntary coalition,” with the external agency itself, or with some other organ such as the speaker of the Assembly. Second, it could be based on automatic allocation. This might aim for approximate proportionality, as in Switzerland since 1959; on parity, as in Belgium since 1970; or on minority over-representation, as in post-independence Cyprus, 1960–63.31 In a more flexible variant, it could be based on proportional representation of 30

31

A British government green paper in 1972 suggested that there were four main approaches to “broadly-based” government: “entrenched government,” by which the inclusion of specific minority elements would be constitutionally required; “proportional representation government,” by which the political composition of the government would reflect that of the assembly; “bloc government,” by which the party or parties representing the majority would be required to coalesce with the party or parties commanding “a majority of the minority”; and “weighted majority government,” under which the government, whatever its composition, would require support from a qualified majority. See UK (1972) The Future of Northern Ireland: A Paper for Discussion, London, HMSO. For an overview of the evolution of thinking on power sharing, see J. McEvoy (2006) “The institutional design of executive formation in Northern Ireland,” Regional and Federal Studies 16(4), 447–64. The Swiss Zauberformel (“magic formula”) allocated the three largest parties two ministries each, and the fourth largest party one, over the period 1959–2003. Because of the stability of Swiss voting behaviour, this reflected perfectly the allocation of ministries in proportion to parliamentary seats according to the d’Hondt formula until 1995 and according to the Sainte-Laguë formula until 1999. This meant that the Christian Democrats were allowed to retain two seats until 2003, though they had lost their proportional entitlement to a second seat before that point. The Belgian constitution was amended in 1970 to provide for parity in the cabinet in the number of French- and Dutch-speaking ministers, with the prime minister as supernumerary. The Cypriot constitution of 1960, when Turks accounted for 18 per cent of the population, provided for a Turkish vice president alongside a Greek president, and three Turkish government ministers out of a cabinet of ten.

Implementing consociation

137

political interests in the Assembly, whether by STV election or through a mathematical formula, such as the d’Hondt or Sainte-Laguë ones. There are difficulties with both of these approaches. The problem with the first is that it calls for continuing intervention from London (and possibly also from Dublin) of a kind that Northern Ireland politicians might find unacceptable in the long term. The problem with the second is its rigidity: if based on a quota, it is insensitive to demographic change and electoral evolution. Furthermore, since it institutionalizes divisions, it risks entrenching them. To generalize, Northern Ireland moved from the first approach, in the 1970s, to the second, in the 1990s. Reluctance to embrace even the first approach explicitly in law was reflected in 1973, when the new Northern Ireland Constitution Act retained the constitutional fiction of royal executive power by providing in Section 8.3 that “the chief executive member and the heads of the Northern Ireland departments shall be appointed by the Secretary of State on behalf of Her Majesty.” The acceptability of a potential government was left to the discretion of the Secretary of State: an executive would be appointed only if it appeared to him that it would be of a type which, “having regard to the support it commands in the Assembly and to the electorate on which that support is based, is likely to be widely accepted throughout the community” (Section 2.1). A government white paper published shortly before the act was passed offered a more explicit statement of intention: “the Executive itself can no longer be solely based upon any single party, if that party draws its support and its elected representation virtually entirely from only one section of a divided community,”32 meaning, in effect, that there would have to be appropriate nationalist participation in the executive. This legally vague provision fell well short of the much more specific formula that became necessary as Northern Ireland’s original substantially two-party system became consolidated around five significant parties. As early as 1971, the eminent Queen’s University Belfast political scientist John Whyte recommended adoption of the Swiss system of proportional representation of parties in government, pointing out that a four-party government there functioned well, though representing sharply different political perspectives, and that “a coalition including Mr Paisley, Mr Faulkner, Mr Vivian Simpson and Mr Hume would hardly be more divergent”33 (this referred to the Protestant Unionist Party, the UUP, the Northern Ireland Labour Party, and the SDLP). The move to a more explicit form of proportionality in government was heralded in a paper sent to the Northern Ireland Office in 1980 by two other academics from Queen’s University Belfast, Sydney Elliott and Jack Smith.34 32 33 34

UK (1973) Northern Ireland Constitutional Proposals, Cmnd 5259, London, HMSO, p. 13. J. Whyte (1971) The Reform of Stormont, Belfast, New Ulster Movement, p. 11. Email from Sydney Elliott, February 16, 2008. The paper responded to options in a discussion paper prepared for a constitutional conference convened by the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Humphrey Atkins; one of these was an executive selected in proportion to party strength. See UK (1979) The Government of Northern Ireland: A Working Paper for a Conference, Cmnd 7763, London, HMSO, pp. 16–17.

138

John Coakley

As later developed by Sydney Elliott, this presciently demonstrated how the d’Hondt system (among others) might be used to select a ten-member executive, and committee chairs. Using the 1982 Assembly election results, Elliott showed that under the d’Hondt rule the Ulster Unionists would be entitled to four executive seats, the DUP to three, the SDLP to two, and the Alliance Party to one.35 Since the paper further proposed that the parties be allowed to select responsibilities (including the chief executive and the deputy chief executive) in the order in which the d’Hondt formula suggested, this would have meant that the two most senior posts would have gone to unionists. This formula was taken up, in a widely publicized initiative, by a group close to the paramilitary Ulster Defence Association.36 But this initiative did not appeal to mainstream unionists; both the DUP and the UUP leaders distanced themselves from it. For them, the principles embodied in the 1975 report of the Constitutional Convention continued to hold sway, at least in public: any Northern Ireland executive should be formed by the leader of the largest party, following Westminster practice. To the extent that mainstream unionist leaders were prepared to contemplate power sharing at all at this time, it was on the basis of an executive with modest powers. This illustrates one of the central planks in consociational theory: the notion that power-sharing institutions can function with less difficulty if the burden of decision making is modest. Thus, in 1975, the Alliance Party was prepared to suggest in the Constitutional Convention that a set of committee chairs – an embryonic executive – be selected by proportional representation.37 Later, notwithstanding the negative public stance of the UUP and DUP leaders, an important task force made up of the deputy leaders of the two parties and the UUP general secretary proposed a similarly inclusive approach. Although only an abridged version of its report was published,38 this showed a disposition to contemplate painful compromise, including office sharing with the SDLP. A confidential document produced as part of this deliberative process and leaked some years later showed that consideration had been given to a network of committee chairs (again, an embryonic government) selected by parties in accordance with the d’Hondt formula.39 35

36

37

38

39

Sydney Elliott (c. 1983) “The election of an executive,” unpublished paper, Department of Political Science, Queen’s University of Belfast. Ulster Political Research Group (1987) Common Sense: Northern Ireland – An Agreed Process, Belfast, Ulster Political Research Group. Constitutional Convention (1975) Northern Ireland Constitutional Convention Report, Together with the Proceedings of the Convention and Other Appendices, London, HMSO. H. McCusker, P. Robinson, and F. Millar (1987) The Task Force Report: An End to Drift. An Abridged Version of the Report Presented to Mr Molyneaux and Dr Paisley, June 16, 1987, Belfast, UUP and DUP. Unionist Working Group (1991) “Administrative and legislative devolution,” Irish Times, 3 July [paper produced in December 1987].

Implementing consociation

139

Nationalist thinking on power sharing was bolder. In 1972, the SDLP outlined a power-sharing blueprint, though presenting it as an interim stage on the path to Irish unity. It proposed a Swiss-type executive, whose members would be elected from a new assembly by proportional representation; it would then select its own chief executive, who would assign portfolios subject to the approval of British and Irish government representatives, or “commissioners”; and its four-year term could be cut short only by a qualified majority vote supported by 75 per cent of the assembly.40 A more ambitious plan was proposed over two decades later by a group of associates of the British Labour Party. This resembled the SDLP’s original scheme, but was more explicit in its endorsement of conventional proportional representation formulas. The group concluded that the Sainte-Laguë formula was preferable to the d’Hondt one in selecting an executive, precisely because it would be more likely to gain the support of smaller parties that would otherwise be excluded, especially in a small executive.41 Ironically, in the light of more recent developments, the smaller parties at the time included not just the Alliance Party, but also the DUP and Sinn Féin. The limited burden of responsibility borne by local authorities also facilitated a measure of office sharing at this level. Of Northern Ireland’s 26 district councils, four were sharing power (if circulation of ceremonial posts and division of committee chairs merits this description) as early as 1973, a number that had increased to 16 by 1993. Allowing for the fact that some councils had moved towards office sharing but then reverted to the traditional system, by the mid-1990s there were only six councils which had never innovated in this way.42 In 1998, 12 councils, now, significantly, including that of Belfast, had office-sharing arrangements.43 But this system, imperfect in its capacity to reflect local political divisions closely at administrative level, was able to enjoy this modest success largely through its informal and voluntary nature, and by removing the more contentious political issues from the floor of the council chamber, which, in any case, was intended to deal with mundane matters rather than with grand constitutional questions. It was also characterized in many cases by a tendency for the local majority to ensure the selection of minority office holders who were not necessarily fully representative of their own communities,44 a feature sometimes 40 41

42

43

44

SDLP (1972) Towards a New Ireland, Belfast, SDLP. B. O’Leary, T. Lyne, J. Marshall, and B. Rowthorne (1993) Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority, London, Institute of Public Policy Research, pp. 139–44. M. McKay and G. Irwin (1995) Local Government Power-Sharing: A Study of District Councils in Northern Ireland, Belfast, Institute of Irish Studies, Queen’s University Belfast, pp. 6, 38. C. Knox and P. Carmichael (1998) “Making progress in Northern Ireland? Evidence from recent elections,” Government and Opposition 33(3), 391–92. C. Farrington (2006) Ulster Unionism and the Peace Process in Northern Ireland, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 85–119.

140

John Coakley

welcomed by conflict-resolution engineers, but one which risks alienating the excluded minority groups. The mechanics of power sharing In selecting committee chairs or ministers by proportional representation, use of an automatic formula had one big advantage over election. It enabled politicians, especially on the unionist side, to go along with unpalatable outcomes (such as the inclusion of Sinn Féin) without formally endorsing them by vote; it was possible simply to blame the formula.45 Furthermore, although the Sainte-Laguë system is regarded as “more proportional” than any other, political elites generally prefer the d’Hondt system, since it has a known bias in favour of larger parties or groups. The process is illustrated in Table 5.3, which shows how each formula would work on the basis of the 2007 election results. The conventional d’Hondt approach relies on producing a table in which the number of seats allocated to each party is divided in succession by one, two, three, four, and so on, with successive allocation of ministries to parties in accordance with the size of the resulting numbers. The corresponding Sainte-Laguë approach repeats this exercise but divides instead by odd numbers (one, three, five, seven, and so on).46 However, the overall result can be calculated more easily by using a simple divisor system. The third column in Table 5.3 shows the proportion of ministries to which each party is entitled if we divide its number of members of the Assembly (MLAs) by the Hare quota (the total number of MLAs divided by the number of ministries, or 10.8 in this case). The five largest parties are entitled to ministries as follows: DUP, 3.3; Sinn Féin, 2.6; UUP, 1.7; SDLP, 1.5; and the Alliance Party, 0.6. All conventional allocation systems would give the integer portion of these figures to the parties in question (respectively, three, two, one, and one), but these total only seven. The d’Hondt system operates by looking for a new divisor, lower than the Hare quota, such that these integer portions total ten, the target number of ministries (any divisor between 8.1 and 9.0 would do). The Sainte-Laguë system operates by also looking for a new divisor, which might be lower or higher than the Hare quota, such that the numbers when rounded (rather than truncated, as in the d’Hondt system) total ten (any divisor between 10.7 and 11.2 would do this). The consequences of the different systems emerge clearly: the d’Hondt system would allocate one additional seat to the three largest parties; the Sainte-Laguë system would allocate one additional seat each to Sinn Féin 45

46

D. Godson (2004) Himself Alone: David Trimble and the Ordeal of Unionism, London, Harper Perennial, pp. 339–40. The d’Hondt system is generally used in continental European parliamentary elections, but Norway and Sweden use a modified version of the Sainte-Laguë system; to avoid giving seats to very small parties, the first divisor is 1.4 rather than 1.0.

Implementing consociation

141

Table 5.3 Application of d’Hondt and Sainte-Laguë formulas for the Northern Ireland Executive, 2007 Party

DUP Sinn Féin UUP SDLP Alliance Others Total Divisor

Seats

Hare quota

D’Hondt formula

Share

Adjusted share

Full quota

Sainte-Laguë formula

Seats Adjusted (truncated) share

Seats (rounded)

36 28 18 16 7 3

3.3 2.6 1.7 1.5 0.6 0.3

3 2 1 1 0 0

4.0 3.1 2.0 1.8 0.8 0.3

4 3 2 1 0 0

3.3 2.6 1.7 1.5 0.6 0.3

3 3 2 1 1 0

108

10.0

7

12.0

10

10.0

10

10.8

9.0

10.8

Note: The second column reports the result of the 2007 election. The three divisors refer respectively to the Hare quota (number of members divided by number of ministries), and this quota as adjusted so that the resulting quotients sum to 10 when truncated (d’Hondt formula) or rounded (Sainte-Laguë formula). “Others” refers to three small groups: the Progressive Unionist Party, the Green Party, and one independent.

and the UUP, but would also give one to the Alliance Party. The net effect would be that under the Sainte-Laguë system the DUP would lose one of the four seats it currently holds, and this would go instead to the Alliance Party. It should be noted that following the 1998 and 2003 elections, too, the Sainte-Laguë formula would have allocated one ministerial post to the Alliance Party. It must be stressed that this mechanism for computing the outcome under the d’Hondt and Sainte-Laguë systems will quickly give an accurate final figure, which is what is needed in most electoral contexts, such as parliamentary elections. The “longhand” system is, however, needed if posts are to be allocated in sequence, a vital strategy for minimizing dispute in Northern Ireland.47 Selecting the First Minister and Deputy First Minister Unlike the position in 1973, the posts of First Minister and Deputy First Minister under the Good Friday Agreement are supernumerary in the allocation of ministries. In principle, filling these posts raises the same kinds of issue as filling ministerial positions (giving a further advantage to the larger parties in either bloc). The arrangements have passed through three stages, raising interesting issues regarding the formulas used and their implications. 47

See B. O’Leary, B. Grofman, and J. Elklit (2005) “Divisor methods for sequential portfolio allocation in multi-party executive bodies: Evidence from Northern Ireland and Denmark,” American Journal of Political Science 49(1), 198–211.

142

John Coakley

First, the Good Friday Agreement provided that these offices be filled collectively by vote of the Assembly using the “parallel consent” formula: in addition to an overall majority, the candidates would have to be supported by a majority of both unionist and nationalist MLAs. This would have the effect of ensuring that the two people elected would be acceptable to both communities, but it also raised the risk of costly paralysis.48 This matter was resolved in the St Andrews Agreement of October 2006 along lines prefigured almost two years earlier. This replaced the provision for election by an automatic formula: the largest party in the largest designation49 would nominate the First Minister, and the largest party in the second largest designation would nominate the Deputy First Minister. This would mean, in effect, that for the foreseeable future the largest unionist party would hold the main post, while the largest nationalist one would hold the deputy position. There was, however, an important third stage in the evolution of these provisions. In a remarkable development – which went largely unnoticed and unreported – a fundamental alteration was made while the Agreement was being given legislative effect in Westminster.50 A new provision was introduced to the effect that the party with the right to nominate the First Minister would be the largest party in the Assembly regardless of designation, with the Deputy First Minister to be named by the largest party in the other designation. This raised the very real prospect of Sinn Féin occupying this position. In 2007, for instance, had the DUP and UUP Assembly parties been the same size (27 each, rather than 36 and 18 respectively), Sinn Féin (with 28 seats) would have been entitled to nominate the First Minister. But even had no change taken place on the unionist side, if a major collapse in SDLP support had given an extra nine seats to Sinn Féin, the outcome would have been the same – an outcome that at the time would have been highly destabilizing, and that might have jeopardized the implementation of the Agreement.

Conclusion This chapter leads to three general conclusions about particular aspects of the application of the consociational model to Northern Ireland. The first 48

49

50

For example, a majority within either designation could block the whole process, as happened in November 2001 when David Trimble failed initially to secure re-election (following his earlier resignation) due to defections within his party. The term refers to the requirement that MLAs designate themselves “nationalist,” “unionist,” or “other”; this is relevant for certain voting purposes. Former First Minister Lord Trimble alleged in the House of Lords that this change was introduced at the last minute at the behest of the DUP and Sinn Féin, but his amendment proposing that the change be dropped was defeated, the government spokesman arguing (not necessarily accurately) that without this there could never be a nationalist First Minister; House of Lords Hansard, vol. 687, cols 386–98, November 22, 2006.

Implementing consociation

143

has to do with the description of the new Northern Ireland institutions as consociational. Brendan O’Leary once rightly described the settlement as “consociation plus,”51 in that it provided not just for consociational internal arrangements but also for elaborate and innovative external institutional links. But there is also an important sense in which it is “consociation minus.” If we adhere to the classic definition of consociation, Northern Ireland falls short, as it fails to satisfy one of the four criteria – a system of segmental autonomy. It has been suggested above that any effort to argue that Northern Ireland satisfies this criterion will work only if the concept is emptied of meaning. It has been proposed instead that the definition of consociation be reworked by dropping this condition, a solution which not only makes it easier to apply this label to Northern Ireland and other cases, but also simplifies and clarifies the meaning of consociation. This contribution has also engaged with the debate on electoral systems. It has argued that the most common party-list system (the d’Hondt one) in its most common application (using moderately sized constituencies) is certainly no more intrinsically proportional than STV. The list system can, however, be used to produce highly proportional results by shifting to another formula (such as Sainte-Laguë) and increasing constituency size. Furthermore, closed list systems can endow party leaders with formidable power, especially if (as is usually the case) they control the candidate selection process: elected members owe their position to the party, not directly to the electorate, and have no personal mandate. Simulations of results under the alternative vote and the plurality systems in Northern Ireland confirm the disproportionate and capricious character of these systems, which not only fail to meet conventional standards of electoral justice but would also be likely to fail to compensate for this shortcoming by producing outcomes conducive to inter-ethnic peace. It must nevertheless be added that preferential voting systems offer certain attractions in divided societies. The idea that elites from one ethnic community be given an incentive to pursue electoral support in another community is an appealing one, endorsed not just by Horowitz (as discussed above) but also by other specialists in the area.52 The dilemma lies in identifying an electoral system calculated to do this. Both STV and the alternative vote may help in at least making such crossover possible; but their effectiveness in this respect will depend on a range of circumstances lying outside the reach of 51

52

B. O’Leary (1999) “The 1998 British–Irish Agreement: Consociation plus,” Scottish Affairs 26, 1–22. For example, M. Bogaards (2003) “Electoral choices for divided societies: Multi-ethnic parties and constituency pooling in Africa,” Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 41(3), 59–80; B. Reilly (2001) Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict Management, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 167–72; and B. Reilly (2004) Electoral Systems and Conflict Management: Comparing STV and AV Systems, ESRC Devolution and constitutional change programme, www.devolution.ac.uk/pdfdata/Reilly_Electoral_Systems_ and_conflict_management.pdf

144

John Coakley

conventional electoral law (though there are virtually no bounds to what may be achieved by manipulating electoral law outside the limits that would be seen as democratic). Dismissal of the alternative vote should not extend to the context where Horowitz first endorsed its use: in direct election to single offices, such as that of president of Sri Lanka or president of Ireland. It should be recalled that in such cases the main contenders are the plurality system and the two-ballot system – hardly more attractive than the alternative vote. On the other hand, it is essential to attend to the fact that in deeply divided societies where the rise of militancy is always a potential issue, any electoral system which is designed to manipulate the process to give an advantage to “moderate” parties has the potential to promote instability and conflict. It has been pointed out in the case of Fiji that even had the alternative vote managed to discriminate effectively against extremist parties, it would have succeeded only in papering over fundamental political issues, encouraging such parties to “seek redress outside the democratic process.”53 As McGarry and O’Leary remind us in the same context in Northern Ireland, “exclusion, after all, is a cause of conflict.”54 Finally, selection of government ministers by automatic formula offers clear attractions to political leaders in divided societies, not just because it removes the necessity of painful, public voting decisions. If this is a generously proportional system, then no major political interest will be excluded. It might be objected that this will produce a government bereft of opposition, but this perspective is deceptive from two points of view. First, the characteristic assumption of the Westminster model that non-participation entails opposition is far too widely applied in societies with more accommodative political cultures, where parties which do not participate in government are not necessarily opposed to the broad thrust of government policy. In Northern Ireland, it could be argued that while the Alliance Party is not in government, it is not an opposition party either. Furthermore, the “opposition” in a Westminster-type system may be large and vocal, but it is typically ineffective: the “winner-takes-all” system means that while the opposition may make noise, it has very little impact on policy (the Nationalist Party in the Northern Ireland House of Commons is just one example). Second, the supplementary assumption of the Westminster model that participation entails support also needs to be questioned. Strong expressions of criticism and more subtle forms of opposition may come from within the ranks of the parties in government, and may well be more effective than those provided by a formal opposition in the Westminster tradition. Such opposition need not be confined to the backbenches, as the action of the SDLP in voting against the Northern Ireland budget in January 2008 indicates. 53

54

J. Fraenkel (2001) “The alternative vote system in Fiji: Electoral engineering or ballot-rigging?” Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 39(1), 26. McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, p. 32.

Implementing consociation

145

As a final point about the executive selection formula, it should be recalled that the d’Hondt formula in Northern Ireland is not particularly generous to small parties, leaving the Alliance Party without a seat in government; but for precisely the same reason it is attractive to larger parties such as the DUP and Sinn Féin. The supernumerary position of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister is a further attraction, in effect giving the two largest parties a total of nine ministerial posts out of 12 (or 11 out of 14 if two junior ministers are counted). It took 36 years after John Whyte first applied consociational theory to Northern Ireland in 1971 for an apparently stable implementation of its principles to take effect.55 The judgement of McGarry and O’Leary on this package is balanced and judicious. The Agreement is ambitious and inclusive, but sufficiently finely drafted to accommodate two radically different long-term outcomes: continuation of the Union or implementation of Irish unity (in the latter case, the effect of the Good Friday Agreement would be to protect mainly the unionist community). But it is also, as McGarry and O’Leary point out, compatible with other long-term developments, such as identity shift. It may well be the case that consociational structures confirm difference; but, as the experience of other consociational states suggests, they also provide a hospitable environment for the erosion of difference.

55

Whyte, The Reform of Stormont.

6

Ethnic party competition and the dynamics of power sharing in Northern Ireland Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

Prologue: McGarry and O’Leary on Northern Ireland Since their first individual and joint publications on Northern Ireland in the late 1980s, John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary developed a diagnosis of the “Northern Ireland problem” which focused on the close interconnection between the endogenous and exogenous sources of conflict.1 In particular, they emphasized that at the core of the conflict is a clash of national identities, with Northern Ireland representing the territorial line of retreat of British and Irish state and nation building failures. Their diagnosis led to a clear and logical prescription: local inclusive power sharing, proportionality, respect for all national and other identities, and institutionalized mechanisms that link citizens to their preferred nation and state. They are not the first to see the wisdom of consociationalism for Northern Ireland or other divided places and they will surely not be the last since politicians do seem to reinvent this form of governance as a practical response to dangerous segmental division, something Lijphart calls the fundamental logic of consociationalism.2 There is no doubt, however, that McGarry and O’Leary have made the most sustained and imaginative contribution to adapting and developing internal power-sharing formats and procedures and harnessing these to a set of principles and mechanisms that hold out the best prospect of accommodating rival national aspirations. Entrenched ethno-national conflicts are almost by definition notoriously difficult to “solve,” and despite current grounds for optimism, it is wise to remain cautious about the medium-term prospects for Northern Ireland’s complex power-sharing institutions. Consociationalism is difficult to love largely because it is not anyone’s first choice; power-sharing equilibria are difficult to establish and then sustain, not least because segmental partisans are 1

2

Their work, of course, has some notable antecedents. For example, Rose, McAllister, and Mair systematically examined British, Irish, and Northern Irish public opinion in an attempt to discover “concurring majorities”; R. Rose, I. McAllister, and P. Mair (1978) “Is there a concurring majority about Northern Ireland?” Strathclyde studies in public policy no. 22, Centre for the Study of Public Policy, University of Strathclyde. A. Lijphart (2008) Thinking about Democracy: Power Sharing and Majority Rule in Theory and in Practice, London, Routledge, p. 277.

Ethnic party competition

147

too often tempted to advocate maximalist demands in the belief that one more round of intransigence might deliver them more of what they desire. McGarry and O’Leary have tried to be hard-headed and realistic. Their prescriptions have not been premised on assumptions of “enlightened leadership” (even if on some occasions Northern Ireland politicians have shown elements of such leadership), nor have they been seduced by the mirage of the likelihood of short or medium term “transcendence” of segmental cleavages and national aspirations. Rather their approach has been based on the premise that it is better to strike a “fair bargain” between the democratic parties who represent the set of actually existing divisions and aspirations. Economic theories of organizations advise that bargains or “contracts” are more likely to be honoured and self-enforcing if they can establish “incentive compatibilities” between the signatories. While this may be too much to hope for in bipolar conflicts in which the principal parties have sharply diverging national interests, the best that liberal-democratic constitutional engineers can do is to design political institutions which are “fair” to both sides; the institutions need to be flexible enough for all parties to reasonably believe that they can rationally pursue their interests. Inclusive power sharing is one of the few liberal democratic and non-coercive escape routes from zero-sum institutions. This is why eight parties signed up to the Belfast Agreement of 1998, and why even those who did not, currently benefit from the opportunities it provided. Whether or not one agrees with McGarry and O’Leary’s consociational prescription for Northern Ireland (as it happens we do), perhaps the bigger point is that they did more than most to counter the long prevalent and debilitating view that the Northern Ireland conflict was “insoluble,” “organic,” and in the most famous rendition, “the problem is that there is no solution.”3 From their earliest publications on Northern Ireland they maintained that “there are multiple solutions,”4 and they then set about exploring them with first-rate historical and political-science tools. Implementing a good “bargain” has no doubt taken longer than they had hoped.

The logic of ethnic party systems Once an ethnic party system is extensively mobilized it is made up primarily of “ethnic parties” that appeal almost exclusively to voters from their own group rather than (at least aspirationally) to all voters.5 Their mobilization 3 4

5

R. Rose (1976) Northern Ireland: A Time of Choice, London, Macmillan, p. 139. J. McGarry (1988) “The Anglo-Irish Agreement and the prospects for power-sharing in Northern Ireland,” Political Quarterly 59(2), 236–50; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) (1991) The Future of Northern Ireland, Oxford, Oxford University Press; B. O’Leary (1987) “The Anglo-Irish Agreement: Folly or statecraft?” West European Politics 10(1), 5–32. These are parties either based on ethnic appeals to communities of shared descent, or parties based on rival nationalist appeals. Such nationalist appeals may have either an exclusive ethnic salience or be multi-ethnic in character, e.g. Eritrean nationalists comprised multi-ethnic coalitions in Ethiopia.

148

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

drives are “catch us” rather than “catch all.” Few voters “float across” the primary political cleavage derived from the clash of ethnic identities. Elections resemble ethnic “headcounts” or censuses. Party platforms are characterized by ethnic outbidding among rival parties within each ethnic bloc.6 Within-bloc competition may develop a centrifugal dynamic as parties mobilize “their” community, engaging in extremist and emotive ethnic appeals that suggest that their group’s vital interests are in danger of being “sold out.” Any cooperative overtures to like-minded forces in other blocs immediately renders politicians vulnerable to the accusation that they are naïve or treacherous. Many ethnic party systems have developed this centrifugal dynamic, e.g. late twentieth century Sri Lanka and the former Yugoslavia. Some claim it is occurring in contemporary Iraq. The dynamic process begins with “ethnic mobilization,” when single ethnic parties emerge to represent each of the main ethnic groups, typically following a civil war, independence, decolonization, or some other regime change.7 These parties usually develop dominant, if not necessarily monopolistic, support in their respective communities. Then at some point the leading protagonists, either through calculated selfinterest, imagination, or external inducement, may be prepared to engage in inherently risky inter-ethnic compromises. As Alvin Rabushka and Kenneth Shepsle put it: “From time to time, moderates appear in the electoral arena of plural societies but usually fail to retain long-run support from their constituents. Extremist entrepreneurs resort to ethnic demand generation and moderates are often compelled to adopt a less compromising stance to avoid defeat.”8 In short, plural society theory predicts that inter-ethnic centripetal moves are almost certain to result in the institutionalization of intra-ethnic competition.9 Accommodating centripetal moves by the dominant ethnic parties render them vulnerable to counter-mobilizations within their own segments by selfstyled hard-line “saviours” of their cause. The once dominant ethnic parties can no longer claim to speak unequivocally for their communities. They now have more intransigent intra-ethnic rivals mobilized in their electoral heartlands, threatening to denounce any further cooperative moves as “betrayals” or “capitulations.” The outcome seems familiar. The party system increases 6

7

8 9

D. L. Horowitz (1985) Ethnic Groups in Conflict, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, pp. 349–60; A. Rabushka and K. Shepsle (1972) Politics in Plural Societies: A Theory of Democratic Instability, Columbus, OH, Charles E. Merrill. The terminal stages of colonial rule incentivized the maintenance of independence parties with (at least some) multi-ethnic support (e.g. Horowitz, Ethnic Groups in Conflict, p. 309). But post-independence, the multi-ethnic party or coalition proved unstable, as the “national” conflict against the colonial power lost salience and was replaced by intense distributive conflicts, led by ethnic entrepreneurs engaged in what Sartori calls the “unfair competition” of out-bidding (Rabushka and Shepsle, Politics in Plural Societies, p. 82). We are concerned with the dynamics of ethnic party competition once such a system has emerged, rather than with its genesis. Rabushka and Shepsle, Politics in Plural Societies, p. 151. See Horowitz, Ethnic Groups in Conflict, pp. 354–60.

Ethnic party competition

149

in size and bargaining complexity, and the incentives and security of leaders to engage in meaningful compromises are severely undermined.10 Settlements are less likely to be attempted, become harder to reach, and if struck, are less likely to be stable. Indeed, Rabushka and Shepsle despairingly reason that “democracy in plural societies is a casualty of communal politics,” so that ethnic conflict resolution is not manageable within a democratic framework.11 However, although fierce intra-ethnic competition is a serious constraint on conflict-regulating endeavours, it does not necessarily follow that the “moderate ground” will be vacated by the main parties and that all electoral competition will be relentlessly centrifugal. After all, it is only electorally rational for all or most of the main parties in each segment to move permanently to the extremes of intransigence if they believe that this is where most of the voters are permanently located. They would have to believe there is an extreme bimodal distribution of voters’ preferences that becomes progressively ever more extreme. In such cases Anthony Downs predicted “a reign of terror” and revolution.12 In ethnic conflicts, the operationalization of the “reign of terror” would include the establishment of control systems, or inter-ethnic wars, or contested secession. Such outcomes are not rare. But equally, they are not as inevitable as plural society theory predicts.

Centripetal dynamics in ethnic party systems There are a variety of means through which ethnic party systems may avoid democratic collapse.13 A multidimensional and cross-cutting cleavage structure may permit enough “fluidity” in ethnic relations to prevent the polarizing consequences of a permanent “winner takes all, loser gets nothing” structure. Or, in the absence of substantial cross-cutting cleavages, the adoption of power-sharing institutions may lead to centripetal competition if the extremist parties can develop successful ethnic tribune appeals. We examine each of these possibilities. Some recent accounts of ethnic parties remind us that ethnic divisions and even ethnic parties need not be destructive of democracy.14 Kanchan Chandra observes that ethnic divisions can be fluid and that it is “institutions that artificially 10

11 12 13

14

E. A. Nordlinger (1972) Conflict Regulation in Divided Societies, Harvard Studies in International Affairs, no. 29, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Rabushka and Shepsle, Politics in Plural Societies, pp. 86, 217. A. Downs (1957) An Economic Theory of Democracy, New York, Harper Collins, p. 120. For brevity we do not provide a taxonomy of possible conflict-regulating elements in party systems, but focus on those most relevant to the present case. Johanna Kristin Birnir analyzing new democracies argues that ethnic parties decrease volatility in the first two elections (by providing convenient information shortcuts to new voters), and that in the longer term ethnic cleavages need not destabilize democracy if groups enjoy adequate representation in government; J. K. Birnir (2007) Ethnicity and Electoral Politics, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press; J. K. Birnir (2007) “Divergence in diversity? The dissimilar effects of cleavages on electoral politics in new democracies,” American Journal of Political Science 51(3), 602–19.

150

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

restrict ethnic divisions to a single dimension [that] destabilize democracy, whereas institutions that foster multiple dimensions of ethnicity can sustain it.”15 Using the example of politics in India, she argues that initial spirals of ethnic outbidding have typically given way, over time, to centrist behaviour. Chandra’s interesting argument is premised on a development of cross-cutting cleavage theory, the idea that the institutionalization of symmetric crosscutting cleavages can produce centripetal party behaviour – in India policies of affirmative action, a generous language policy, and recognition of statehood within the Indian union have accomplished this regulation.16 If politicians are capable of activating multiple dimensions of ethnic identity, and thereby producing centripetal outcomes, there is more than one cleavage out of which alternative “majorities” (or winning pluralities) can be constructed. India has at least four major aspects of ethnic diversity that substantially cross cut: language, religion, caste, and tribe. “There are so many ways to construct a majority in India, both in states and the nation as a whole, that remarkable fluidity is lent to the majority–minority framework of politics … permanent majorities are virtually inconceivable.”17 In India cleavages are not one-dimensional, mutually reinforcing, and cumulative. In Northern Ireland they (mostly) are. This potential source of centripetalism – symmetric cross-cutting cleavages – does not exist in Northern Ireland in any substantial fashion. Here electoral competition is contained within an ethnic dual-party system; fierce party competition exists within the context of an overall bipolar constitutional cleavage.18 15

16

17

18

K. Chandra (2005) “Ethnic parties and democratic stability,” Perspectives on Politics 3(2), 235. Also see, K. Chandra (2004) Why Ethnic Parties Succeed: Patronage and Ethnic Headcounts in India, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Chandra gives the example of Uttar Pradesh, where the two cleavages of religion and caste are “approximately symmetric” (“Ethnic parties and democratic stability,” p. 244). The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) had outflanked Congress by assuming an overtly Hindu majoritarian position (Hindus constitute roughly 82 per cent and Muslims 17 per cent). However, rather than stimulating long-term polarization, as predicted by the out-bidding model, the Janata Dal (JD) in bidding for the Muslim minority, prioritized activating another cleavage line, caste rather than religion. They thus sought to fragment the Hindu religious majority by dividing the Hindu upper castes (roughly 20 per cent) from other castes. This led the BJP to “tone[ed] down its anti-Muslim rhetoric” (“Ethnic parties and democratic stability,” p. 244). A. Ahuja and A. Varshney (2005) “Antecedent nationhood, subsequent statehood: Explaining the relative success of Indian federalism,” in P. Roeder and D. Rothchild (eds) Sustainable Peace: Power and Democracy after Civil Wars, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, p. 264. G. Evans and M. Duffy (1997) “Beyond the sectarian divide: The social bases and political consequences of nationalist and unionist party competition in Northern Ireland,” British Journal of Political Science 27(1), 47–81; I. McAllister and S. Nelson (1979) “Modern developments in the Northern Ireland party system,” Parliamentary Affairs 32(3), 279–316; P. Mitchell (1991) “Conflict regulation and party competition in Northern Ireland,” European Journal of Political Research 20(1), 67–91; P. Mitchell (1995) “Party competition in an ethnic dual party system,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 18(4), 773–96; P. Mitchell (1999) “The party system and party competition,” in P. Mitchell and R. Wilford (eds) Politics in Northern Ireland, Boulder, CO, Westview Press, pp. 91–116; B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (1996) The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland, 2nd edn, London, The Athlone Press; J. Tonge (2005) The New Northern Irish Politics? London, Palgrave.

Ethnic party competition

151

All surveys demonstrate the ethnically exclusive nature of support for the four main parties in Northern Ireland.19 Very little “normal” inter-bloc competition occurs; instead, parties try to out-mobilize each other. Within each bloc socio-economic cleavages have been relevant in explaining partisanship,20 but more recent work suggests that by 2004 “ethno-national strategy is dominant and left–right divisions play no significant role in conditioning party support within the Protestant electorate.”21 Very few voters are not committed to one bloc or the other, so in the absence of powersharing institutions, there were few electoral incentives to be moderate.

Ethnic tribune parties and power sharing Well-designed, power-sharing institutions can provide electoral incentives for inter-ethnic cooperation, provided that the parties making the centripetal moves believe they can protect themselves against flanking by rival intraethnic parties or by new entrants.22 Successful electoral mobilization based on “ethnic tribune” appeals – a kind of ethnic valence23 – combined with compensational voting in the context of mandatory power sharing can explain the electoral success of formerly hard-line ethnic parties.24 Orit Kedar has argued that voters are concerned with projected policy outcomes rather than just policy positions. If so, they must incorporate into their decisions the manner in which institutions convert votes into policy. In majoritarian systems, single-party governments can implement their policy positions with little or no inter-party compromise. Kedar provides an intuition to explain why (quoting the title of her paper) “moderate voters prefer extreme parties.” In consensual (proportional representation) systems “since 19

20

21

22

23

24

For example the 2003 Northern Ireland Assembly election study (survey evidence) shows that only 1.4 per cent and zero per cent, respectively, of Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) and Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) voters were Catholic. In the nationalist party system, one per cent of Sinn Féin voters and 1.7 per cent of Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) voters were Protestant. By contrast the bi-confessional but increasingly marginalized Alliance Party attracts more diverse support (in 2003 its vote was composed of 50 per cent Protestants, 29 per cent Catholics, and 18 per cent stating “no religion”). This is especially the case within the unionist community; Evans and Duffy, “Beyond the sectarian divide.” J. Tilley, G. Evans, and C. Mitchell (2008) “Consociationalism and the evolution of political cleavages in Northern Ireland, 1989–2004,” British Journal of Political Science 38(4), 699–717. Further elaboration and a multivariate test of the following argument can be found in P. Mitchell, G. Evans, and B. O’Leary (2009) “Extremist outbidding in ethnic party systems is not inevitable: Tribune parties in Northern Ireland,” Political Studies (forthcoming). “Valence” issues refer to areas of policy where there is widespread agreement about the desirability of general goals, and a party advantage is gained by establishing a reputation for being best able to deliver these goals. In segmented electorates the ethnic valence issues are within each segment. See D. Stokes (1965) “Spatial models of party competition,” American Political Science Review 55(2), 368–77. O. Kedar (2005) “When moderate voters prefer extreme parties: Policy balancing in parliamentary elections,” American Political Science Review 99(2), 185–99.

152

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

policy is often the result of institutionalized multiparty bargaining and thus votes are watered down by power sharing, voters often compensate for this watering-down by supporting parties whose positions differ from (and are often more extreme than) their own.”25 Other things being equal, the more that power sharing is facilitated by the electoral system, the more incentive there is for voters to engage in “compensational voting.” The 1998 Agreement in Northern Ireland institutionalized power-sharing institutions that mandated that executive power (and hence policy outcomes) can only be achieved by sharing power across the nationalities. To take just one example: in forming a Northern Ireland Executive (the name for the devolved power-sharing government), the Agreement provided a sequential portfolio allocation procedure which meant that parties are “entitled” to portfolios according to their respective electoral strength. Whilst parties can opt-out of their proportional allocation, if the allocation proceeds, this will have the direct effect of improving the allocations of their intra-ethnic and inter-ethnic rival parties.26 Thus, given that the formation of a government and policy outcomes will inevitably involve inter-ethnic bargaining, voters will want to be represented by their “strongest voice.” Typically this will be parties with reputations for tough bargaining, and such reputations will partly be based on their past records of less moderate policy positions. In short, moderate voters will vote for the more “extreme” parties. Each communal group – in anticipation of engagement in inter-ethnic power sharing – wants to be represented by its strongest voice. We label this “ethnic tribune” voting. Tribunes in ancient Rome were elected or appointed by the plebeians to protect their interests against patricians, who usually monopolized the consulate. Tribunes had the right to veto legislation – as well as to propose it, but they were not the key executive officers of the Republic, who were the consuls.27 The concept of a “tribune party” was used by Georges Lavau to characterize the French Communist Party,28 a party that continued “to play the part of tribune, laying stress on its defensive role.”29 Our term “ethnic tribune party” combines the traditional expressive feature of tribune politics (the most robust defender of the cause) with an emphasis that such a party can seek to maximize the group’s share of resources extractable from participation in the power-sharing institutions. 25 26

27

28

29

Kedar, “When moderate voters prefer extreme parties,” p. 185. B. O’Leary, B. Grofman, and J. Elklit (2005) “Divisor methods for sequential portfolio allocation in multi-party executive bodies: Evidence from Northern Ireland and Denmark,” American Journal of Political Science 49(1), 198–211. L. R. Taylor (1949) Party Politics in the Age of Caesar, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press. G. Lavau (1969) “Le Parti communiste dans le système politique française,” in F. Bon, M. Michelet, and R. Fichelet (eds) Le Communisme en France, Paris, A. Colin, pp. 7–81; G. Lavau (1975) “The PCF, the state, and the revolution: An analysis of party policies, communications, and popular culture,” in D. L. M. Blackmer and S. Tarrow (eds) Communism in Italy and France, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press, pp. 87–139. R. W. Johnson (1981) The Long March of the French Left, London, Macmillan, p. 151.

Ethnic party competition

153

The ethnic tribune party can be simultaneously pragmatic over resources and intransigent about identity. Northern Irish voters want peace and cooperation without abandoning their ethno-national identities. That is not irrational. Essentially, each community wants its strongest voice to represent it, but sections of each community wants this ethnic champion to act in a more cooperative fashion, or at least in a less “anti-system” or “rejectionist” manner – since nothing worthwhile can be gained by choosing to “exit” the power-sharing framework, and perhaps much worse may happen by doing so.30 Voting for ethnic tribune parties implies some intransigence in advocating the ethnic groups’ interests, but does not necessarily entail the increased overall attitudinal polarization implied by ethnic outbidding predicted by plural society theory. Voters in ethnic party systems faced with a power-sharing institutional structure have incentives to vote for their respective ethnic tribunes. The identity of this party is likely to be determined by a combination of ethnic valence judgements about which party is projected to be best able to deliver the community’s interests, and compensational voting, i.e. knowing that all positional pledges will be “watered down.”31

The incentives of power sharing: success with moderated platforms The Northern Ireland party system has been transformed since an end to armed conflict in 1994 facilitated the negotiation of a new power-sharing institutional framework,32 the Good Friday, or Belfast, Agreement of 1998. There had been a widespread expectation that the moderate Irish nationalist Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP), as the principal architect of the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, and the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), its “partner in peace,” would receive electoral rewards for reaching a historic compromise.33 Their leaders did win the Nobel Peace Prize, but no comparable electoral prizes. It was mostly unanticipated that the hard-line parties (Sinn Féin among the nationalists and the Democratic Unionist Party [DUP] among the unionists) would be the electoral beneficiaries of the peace process at the expense of the respective moderates in their own blocs. Indeed, the formerly extremist parties, the DUP and Sinn Féin, are now the 30

31

32

33

For unionists it might mean the British government granting more power and authority to the government of Ireland; for nationalists it might mean a return to British direct rule. Establishing an ethnic tribune appeal also guards against potential flanking by new entrants, which is always a danger whenever leaders engage in risky inter-ethnic compromise. The IRA’s ceasefire of 1994 was broken in 1996 with large bombs in London and Manchester, but was restored following the election of the Labour government in 1997. The UUP had been the dominant (British) unionist party at all domestic (i.e. non-European parliament elections) from 1920 until the 2003 Northern Ireland Assembly elections. The 1981 local government elections are the only previous occasion at which the DUP narrowly outpaced the UUP, though its leader, Ian Paisley, topped all European election counts (in a region-wide, three-member district using the single transferable vote).

154

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

dominant electoral forces in Northern Ireland, so much so that on May 8, 2007 the allegedly “impossible” happened: the DUP and Sinn Féin agreed to jointly lead a new power-sharing government.34 Sinn Féin and the DUP have become “ethnic tribune parties.” Provisional Sinn Féin began its existence as an abstentionist protest party, refusing to recognize the state, and encouraging its supporters not to vote. Its entry into the electoral arena followed the unplanned success of hunger-striking political prisoners in winning votes and seats in both parts of Ireland in 1980– 81. Following its first electoral contest and breakthrough in 1982, Sinn Féin’s vote was essentially flatlining at around 11 per cent, its average performance during the ten elections between 1982 and 1994 (i.e. the elections before the Irish Republican Army [IRA] ceasefire), though it rose before and fell after the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985 (see Table 6.1). During this period the SDLP had almost double the electoral strength of Sinn Féin, and appeared not to be directly losing votes to its new rival. This was possible because of Table 6.1 Electoral fortunes by period, 1973–2007 Period

Average

Inter-election gain (mean)

SDLP

1973–81 (n = 8) 1982–93 (n = 7) Since ceasefires 1996–2007 (n = 10) Since Agreement, 1998–2007 (n = 7)

20.2 20.3 19.6 18.5

0.6 0.8 −0.4 −0.4

Sinn Féin

1973–81 (no elections contested) 1982–93 (n = 7) Since ceasefires 1996–2007 (n = 10) Since Agreement, 1998–2007 (n = 7)

– 11.5 20.6 22.5

– 0.4 1.2 1.1

UUP

1973–81 (n = 8) 1982–93 (n = 7) Since ceasefires 1996–2007 (n = 10) Since Agreement, 1998–2007 (n = 7)

32.3 32.3 22.9 20.6

−3.1 0.4 −1.3 −1.6

DUP

1973–81 (n = 8) 1982–93 (n = 7) Since ceasefires 1996–2007 (n = 10) Since Agreement, 1998–2007 (n = 7)

12.0 18.1 22.9 25.9

3.2 −1.3 1.4 2.3

APNI

1973–81 (n = 8) 1982–93 (n = 7) Since ceasefires 1996–2007 (n = 10) Since Agreement, 1998–2007 (n = 7)

9.7 8.2 5.4 4.7

−0.7 −0.2 −0.6 −0.6

Note: Includes all elections in Northern Ireland except those to the European parliament; the latter give a highly misleading impression of relative party strengths, mainly because only three seats are available.

34

See www.northernireland.gov.uk/

Ethnic party competition

155

the overall growth of the nationalist bloc, which expanded from about 30 per cent of Northern Irish voters in 1982 to just over 40 per cent by 2005. Much of Sinn Féin’s early electoral growth (in the 1980s and early 1990s) was achieved by mobilizing nationalist non-voters and new age cohorts rather than by directly winning over SDLP partisans.35 The 1994 IRA cessation of its armed campaign was clearly the catalyst for Sinn Féin’s renewed electoral advances. The ceasefire, Sinn Féin’s de facto acceptance of the “consent principle” (that Irish reunification requires the consent of majorities in both Irish jurisdictions), and later its enthusiastic participation in all of the Agreement’s institutions, rendered the party much more acceptable and attractive to wider groups of nationalist voters. Sinn Féin’s vote immediately jumped at the first post-ceasefire election in 1996 (see Figure 6.1), and has followed a consistently upward trajectory ever since.36 While the IRA broke its ceasefire during 1996–97, Sinn Féin’s campaign for the Westminster elections in that year was premised on a renewal of the IRA’s ceasefire, which was delivered shortly after the formation of the Labour government in the United Kingdom. The peace process has clearly been the handmaiden of Sinn Féin’s electoral growth; its incorporation into “ordinary politics” undermined the distinctiveness of the SDLP’s strategic position as the “acceptable face” of nationalist politics, and its principal bargaining actor. At elections since 1996, the SDLP has been losing an average of 0.4 per cent per election, whereas Sinn Féin has been gaining 1.2 per cent at each election. Sustained over a decade, the net changes have amounted to an almost complete reversal of fortunes (see Table 6.1 and Figure 6.1). To put this policy movement in perspective, Sinn Féin went from being a party “violently opposed to consociation” in the 1980s,37 to a party that in 2006 nominated the leader of the DUP to be First Minister of Northern Ireland.38 Since its foundation in 1971 as a party which opposed an earlier generation of inter-ethnic compromises, the DUP developed a brand identity as the 35

36

37

38

B. O’Leary (1990) “Appendix 4: Party support in Northern Ireland, 1969–89,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) The Future of Northern Ireland, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 342–57. Also see I. McAllister (2004) “‘The Armalite and the ballot box’: Sinn Féin’s electoral strategy in Northern Ireland,” Electoral Studies 23(1), 123–42; Mitchell, “The party system and party competition”; and Tonge, The New Northern Irish Politics? The new power-sharing institutions did not exogenously cause the origin of Sinn Féin’s electoral growth. Sinn Féin became more attractive to nationalist voters immediately after the IRA ceasefire precisely because such voters wanted to encourage a peaceful powersharing strategy. The ceasefires in turn gave Sinn Féin access to the negotiations that would eventually lead to the Agreement of 1998. B. O’Leary (1989) “The limits to coercive consociationalism in Northern Ireland,” Political Studies 37(4), 583. While the symbolism was extraordinary, this was of course a tactical move by Sinn Féin who wanted to see their own nominee installed simultaneously as Deputy First Minister (the positions of First Minister and Deputy First Minister have equal powers). While in 2006 this was a ploy, in 2007 it happened for real.

156

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

Figure 6.1 Electoral support in Northern Ireland, 1970–2007 Key: W = Westminster; L = Local government; A = Northern Ireland Assembly; AIA = Anglo-Irish Agreement; GFA = Good Friday Agreement.

party of “no surrender”; the “Ulster says No” party: “No” to virtually any policy initiative by the UK government which involved concessions to nationalists.39 But three decades of stridently oppositional politics delivered only modest electoral growth for the DUP. The party was only consistently a poll-topper in the second-order European parliamentary elections. The DUP’s threatening to overtake the UUP in the early 1980s was undermined by the united unionist reaction to the 1985 Anglo-Irish Agreement: a noncompetitive pact, intended to maximize unionist unity,40 which actually served only to demobilize unionists in general (turnout fell) and damaged the DUP in particular, because the smaller party was required to “standdown” its candidates in a greater number of Westminster seats to avoid splitting the unionist vote.41 Thus, the UUP inter-electoral average gain 39

40 41

See, for example, S. Bruce (1986) God save Ulster! The Religion and Politics of Paisleyism, Oxford, Oxford University Press; F. Cochrane (1997) Unionist Politics and the Politics of Unionism since the Anglo-Irish Agreement, Cork, Cork University Press; C. Smyth (1987) Ian Paisley: Voice of Protestant Ulster, Edinburgh, Scottish Academic Press; and, J. Tonge and J. Evans (2001) “Faultlines in unionism: Division and dissent within the Ulster Unionist Council,” Irish Political Studies 16, 111–32. Indeed they did so marginally and briefly in the 1981 local council elections. Mitchell, “The party system and party competition.”

Ethnic party competition

157

during the 1980s up to the ceasefires was 0.4 per cent, whereas the DUP was losing 1.3 per cent on average per election (see Table 6.1). This pattern has been reversed in the last decade. The key event in explaining the DUP electoral surge has clearly been the 1998 Agreement: the implementation difficulties in the following years became a major electoral liability for the UUP, and a great opportunity for the DUP, one that has been skilfully exploited to maximum partisan advantage. The DUP successfully took advantage of the UUP’s internal haemorrhages after 1998, with frequent internal votes effectively on David Trimble’s leadership of the UUP.42 The DUP also received clear electoral benefits by moderating its policy position.43 Far from calling for the scrapping of the Belfast Agreement, which had been endorsed by Northern Ireland’s voters, including a small majority of Protestants, the DUP called for its “renegotiation.” This more nuanced opposition to yet another British–Irish initiative, repositioned the party more competitively, especially with disillusioned UUP voters. The DUP was greatly aided by the plight of the UUP leader, David Trimble, continually trying to persuade his party to continue supporting the Agreement despite the failure of the IRA to start and then complete the decommissioning of its weapons. While the IRA finally undertook its “acts of completion” in late 2005, it all came too late for Trimble, and his party. The DUP surged past its old rivals at the 2003 Assembly elections, and consolidated its dominance in subsequent elections. Thus, while the DUP claimed (especially in the 1980s) that its mission was to “smash Sinn Féin,” it has actually been more effective in “smashing” the UUP, and by 2007 it was double the size of its old unionist rival. Thus, before the onset of the “peace process” and the Agreement, both the more extreme parties discovered real limits to their electoral growth. They were important electoral niche players, but not the dominant parties in their respective blocs that they aspired to become. The end to the IRA’s long war and the new institutional incentives provided by the 1998 Agreement facilitated carefully calculated strategic moves by both the DUP and Sinn Féin to moderate their platforms whilst promoting their positions as their communities’ pre-eminent tribunes.

From 1998 to 2003: vote-switching from the “moderate” to the “extreme” parties Aggregate electoral results show that the moderate parties have declined, and suggest that the relatively more “extreme” parties have gained at their expense. Survey data from the Northern Ireland election studies of 1998 and 42 43

Tonge and Evans, “Faultlines in unionism.” P. Mitchell, B. O’Leary, and G. Evans (2001) “Northern Ireland: Flanking extremists bite the moderates and emerge in their clothes,” Parliamentary Affairs 54(4), 725–42.

158

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

2003 enable us to find evidence that helps explain the success of Sinn Féin’s and the DUP’s electoral strategies.44 Before the Agreement there was much less evidence of the “moderate” parties losing their partisans directly to their more “extreme” rivals. Among unionists between 1996 and 1998 there was very little net gain from direct switches between the UUP and DUP. On the nationalist side there was a modest shift. The SDLP lost 11 per cent of its 1996 vote to Sinn Féin, but in turn, Sinn Féin lost 8 per cent to the SDLP, i.e. a small Sinn Féin net gain.45 However, the very significant alteration in party fortunes between the first and second Assembly elections suggests that this pattern of modest net change cannot have been maintained.46 In 2003 the DUP became the biggest party in Northern Ireland by gaining nearly 8 per cent of the overall vote, a 42 per cent increase on its 1998 vote. The UUP slipped to third position, though its first preference vote increased slightly. Given this reversal of fortunes in the unionist party system we may ask where all these new DUP voters come from. Mitchell, Evans, and O’Leary report that the UUP lost a massive 22 per cent of its 1998 voters to the DUP in 2003 and that the traffic was mostly one-way.47 The DUP lost only 4 per cent of its 1998 voters to the UUP, a net gain to the DUP of 18 per cent.48 While there was much discussion in 1996 of a “shredding of the unionist vote,” by 2003 it had consolidated behind the two principal unionist parties, with the DUP as its pre-eminent voice. The DUP extended these electoral gains in 2005 and 2007. Much of Sinn Féin’s electoral growth before the Agreement was achieved by mobilizing prior non-voters and new voters, rather than directly 44

45

46

47 48

No panel-study data is available for Northern Ireland; we are therefore restricted to crosssectional analyses. The odds ratio for SDLP voters in 1996 switching to Sinn Féin in 1998 (versus switching in the other direction) is 4. The odds ratio for UUP voters in 1996 switching to the DUP in 1998 (versus switching in the other direction) is 1.8. Thus there is evidence of moderate voters switching to more extreme parties in both communities. Tonge and Evans rightly point out that there has also been an asymmetry of mobilization across the two principal communities: for example at the 2005 Westminster elections turnout was 11 per cent lower in unionist won seats. This reminds us that differential turnout is itself an important competitive dynamic in ethnic party systems; see P. Mitchell (2001) “Transcending an ethnic party system? The impact of consociational governance on electoral dynamics and the party system,” in R. Wilford (ed.) Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 28–48; and J. Tonge and J. Evans (2005) “The onward march of Paisleyism or a triumph of unionist apathy? Turnout and voting for the Democratic Unionist Party in the 2005 Westminster election in Northern Ireland,” paper presented at the Political Studies Association “Elections, public opinion, and parties” annual conference, University of Essex. Mitchell, Evans, and O’Leary, “Extremist outbidding in ethnic party systems.” The UUP managed to maintain its first preference vote in 2003, despite these direct losses to the DUP, because it gained 14 per cent of its 2003 vote from those who had supported the “other” small unionist parties in 1998, especially the UK Unionist Party (UKUP) and the Ulster Democratic Party (UDP). The minor unionist parties no longer have any electoral strength.

Ethnic party competition

159

attracting SDLP partisans.49 However, the scale of the swing in the two nationalist parties vote’ in 2003 means that this explanation cannot account for the most recent elections. In 2003 Sinn Féin surpassed its own expectations by gaining 23.5 per cent of the first preference votes, a 33 per cent increase on its 1998 Assembly vote, while the SDLP’s vote declined by 23 per cent, compared to its 1998 vote. Sinn Féin’s breakout performance in 2003 cannot be explained solely by its better performance among new cohorts of voters and historic abstentionists. It must have converted previous SDLP partisans to fuel an electoral surge of this magnitude. Evidence from the Northern Ireland Election Study demonstrates that this is indeed what happened. Of those who voted for the SDLP in the 1998 Assembly election almost one fifth (19 per cent) defected to Sinn Féin in 2003.50 By contrast only 5 per cent of 1998 Sinn Féin voters switched to the SDLP in 2003, a direct net gain to Sinn Féin between the two Assembly elections of 14 per cent.51 If we look at the composition of the Sinn Féin vote in 2003 it contained 24 per cent who had been SDLP voters in 1998, and 14 per cent who had been non-voters or who do not recall how they voted in 1998, clear evidence that recent Sinn Féin electoral growth has been principally at the SDLP’s expense. Thus both of the ostensibly extreme parties gained in 2003 from substantial direct vote switches from former partisans of the more moderate parties.52

Public opinion about the Agreement Prior to the Agreement, public opinion evidence had generally demonstrated a predictably greater resistance to constitutional changes among Protestant respondents than among Catholics. Even by 1996, at the time of the intergovernmental negotiations over the “peace forum,” concurring majorities across the two communities were little in evidence.53 One possible area of concurrence was in relation to the issue of a power-sharing assembly elected by proportional representation, an idea that had almost as much prospect of support among Protestants as among Catholics. Nonetheless, even in the 1970s Rose and his colleagues found evidence of a bare concurring majority 49

50 51

52

53

O’Leary, “Appendix 4,” pp. 345–48; and McAllister, “‘The Armalite and the ballot box,’” p. 140. Mitchell, Evans, and O’Leary, “Extremist outbidding in ethnic party systems.” This odds ratio for SDLP voters in 1998 switching to Sinn Féin in 2003 (versus switching in the other direction) is 8. The odds ratio for UUP voters in 1998 switching to the DUP in 2003 (versus switching in the other direction) is 6.5. Thus there is growing evidence of moderate voters switching to more “extreme” parties in both communities. In a pooled analysis of voters for moderate parties (SDLP and UUP) and “extreme” parties (DUP and Sinn Féin), we find that the odds ratio of switching from moderate to extreme parties (versus switching in the other direction) is 2.37 for the first time period (1996–98), but grows to 7.07 for the second time period (sig. at p < 0.05 [one-tailed test]). G. Evans and B. O’Leary (1997) “Frameworked futures: Intransigence and flexibility in the Northern Irish elections of May 30 1996,” Irish Political Studies 12, 23–47.

160

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

on a similar question.54 So the omens as late as 1996 would appear to have been no more promising than during some of the worst periods of intercommunal conflict. By the time of the 1998 Belfast Agreement, however, Evans and O’Leary found substantial evidence of a willingness amongst Protestants to compromise on issues relating to power sharing that might have been thought “beyond the pale” only a few years earlier.55 The 1998 Agreement transformed the institutional environment for all parties and could be expected to influence public attitudes to power sharing. However the serious difficulties in implementation that the Agreement encountered meant that the power-sharing bargain was stalled when the second election to the Northern Ireland Assembly was eventually held in November 2003.56 The dual premiership had proved unstable and the Assembly had been suspended on numerous occasions.57 The “mixed record” of the Agreement’s institutions since 1998 meant that the limited experience of them was unlikely to have induced widespread and profound attitudinal changes. So it is perhaps surprising that we can detect some quite sharp attitudinal shifts between the first two Assembly elections, despite the institutions’ failure to work before 2007. While the Agreement involved a complex bundle of new institutions, procedures, and expectations, some of its core features are contained in the survey questions reported in Table 6.2, which were asked in 1998 and again in 2003. On the first two questions in Table 6.2 – the constitutional guarantee that Northern Ireland should remain part of the UK as long as this is the wish of a majority in Northern Ireland, and support for the setting up of a Northern Ireland Assembly – there has been very little change, and both propositions continue to have strong support. Levels of active support for the setting up of the Assembly actually rose among Sinn Féin and DUP supporters. Among Sinn Féin partisans support for the Assembly increased from 76 per cent in 1998 to 94 per cent in 2003, whereas support among DUP partisans increased from 57 to 70 per cent (all relationships mentioned in the text in this section are statistically significant at the p < 0.0001 level; see Table 6.2 for details). It is also interesting, and consistent with the observation that Sinn Féin’s leaders have moderated their policy stances, to see that support for the “consent principle” among Sinn Féin’s supporters increased 54 55

56

57

Rose et al., “Is there a concurring majority,” p. 16. G. Evans and B. O’Leary (2000) “Northern Irish voters and the British–Irish Agreement: Foundations of a stable consociational settlement?” Political Quarterly 71, 78–101. The United Kingdom government had twice postponed the scheduled second Assembly election which should have been held by June 2003, ostensibly to allow more time for a much hoped for breakthrough in negotiations. But they were widely interpreted as a misguided attempt to “put off the inevitable”: big electoral gains for the DUP and Sinn Féin were foreseen and many feared that outcome would create an even more difficult bargaining context. They were wrong. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford: Oxford University Press, ch. 1.

Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

Remove ROI’s claim

Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

North–South bodies

Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

NI Assembly

Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

NI remain in UK

Election year

82 10 4 4

17 20 58 5

57 18 22 3

98 1 0 1

1998

DUP

98 1 0 1

1998

81 9 5 5

82 7 5 5

35.(+18)* 53 24 19 33.(−25)* 25 8 3

70.(+13)* 86 14 9 13.(−9)* 3 3 2

96 1 2 1

2003

UUP

76 9 5 10

55 19 21 5

1998

76.(−6)* 15 6 3

24 12 49 15

63.(+10)* 85 21 4 12.(−13)* 7 4 4

89 5 4 2

98 1 1 0

2003

1998

SDLP

14.(+10)* 21 60.(+11)* 5

94.(+9)* 3 2.(−5)* 1

47 19 23 11

90 5 1 4

94.(+18)* 95 3 3 2 0 1 2

66.(+11)* 77 16 15 14.(−7)* 4 4 4

2003

Sinn Féin

46 18 31 5

79 10 8 3

97 1 1 1

1998

30.(−17)* 78 34 9 33.(+10)* 6 3 7

89 9 1 1

88.(−7)* 7 3 2

79 18 3 0

2003

75 15 6 4

49 22 22.(−9)* 7

77 12 8 3

94 3 2 1

2003

Protestants

41 16 28 15

86 5 3 6

87 4 2 7

70 16 8 6

1998

63 13 14 10

63 13 19 5

82 8 5 5

86 7 3 4

1998

Total

53.(−10)* 23 18 5

66 16 14.(−5)* 5

79 11 7 3

84 10 4 2

2003

(Continued on next page)

25.(−16)* 33 36.(+8)* 6

88 7 2 3

86 7 3 4

70 19 7 4

2003

Catholics

Table 6.2 Change in attitudes to some main features of the Agreement between the first (1998) and second (2003) Assembly elections (%)

95 3 1 1

1998

65.(+33)* 69 15 17 15.(−12)* 10 5 4

97.(+7)* 1 1 1

2003

UUP

63 12 17 8

1998

87.(+18)* 84 8 8 4.(−6)* 1 1 7

99.(+4)* 0 1 0

2003

1998

SDLP

96.(+12)* 90 3 4 0 0 1 6

85.(+22)* 91 7 5 7.(−10)* 1 1 3

2003

Sinn Féin

97 2 1 0

98.(+7)* 1 0 1

2003

61 19 14 6

94 3 2 1

1998

81 7 6 6

1998

1998

Total

96.(+11)* 71 3 13 0 8 1 8

93.(+12)* 89 2 5 3 3 2 3

2003

Catholics

76.(+15)* 85 11 6 8.(−6)* 1 5 8

98.(+4)* 1 0 1

2003

Protestants

84.(+13)* 8 5 3

95.(+6)* 2 2 2

2003

Notes: The significance tests are two sample z-tests comparing proportions across two independent samples: statistically significant at * p < 0.01. Respondents were asked: “Looking back on some of the proposals contained in the Good Friday Agreement, could you tell me how you now feel about … ” (all coded on an ordinal five-point scale from “strongly support” to “strongly oppose,” with “don’t know” as a residual sixth category). NI remain in UK: “the guarantee that NI will remain part of the UK for as long as a majority of the people in NI wish it to be so.” NI Assembly: “the setting up of a NI Assembly.” North–South bodies: “the creation of North–South bodies.” Remove ROI’s claim: “the removal of the Republic of Ireland’s constitutional claim to Northern Ireland.” Decommissioning: “decommissioning of paramilitary weapons.” Power sharing: “the requirement that the Executive is power-sharing.” Party affiliation is by a standard party identification question.

Sources: The Northern Ireland Referendum and Election Study 1998; The Northern Ireland Assembly Election Study 2003. Data available at www.ark.ac.uk/ sol/ and at http://personal.lse.ac.uk/mitchepl/Data.htm

Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

32 33 27 8

90 4 4 2

Decommissioning Support Neither Oppose Don’t know

Power sharing

1998

DUP

Election year

Table 6.2 (continued)

Ethnic party competition

163

by 11 per cent. Thus, by 2003 two-thirds of self-identified Sinn Féin partisans supported “the guarantee that Northern Ireland will remain part of the United Kingdom for as long as a majority of the people in Northern Ireland wish it to be so.” One of the most contentious aspects of the Agreement for many unionists was the provision of North–South bodies – the North–South Ministerial Council and a number of executive agencies designed to coordinate policy between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. This was a prominent part of the symbolically important institutional embodiment of the “Irish dimension.” Nationalists overwhelmingly favour such links, but for unionists, and for the DUP in particular, strident opposition to “Dublin interference,” had long been an important principle and a prominent rallying cry. Strikingly, despite its huge symbolic resonance for many unionists, the experience of the North–South bodies appears to have been much less threatening in practice. Over five years, opposition to North–South bodies declined by 13 per cent among UUP supporters, much less opposed to begin with, and by 25 per cent among DUP partisans (see Table 6.2). One perhaps surprising and countervailing trend is the sharp drop in nationalist support for the amendment to the Republic of Ireland’s constitutional claim to Northern Ireland.58 Catholic support for removing the former irredentist claim dropped from 41 per cent to 25 per cent: support for its removal declined by 10 points among Sinn Féin supporters and 17 per cent among SDLP identifiers. We suspect this shift probably reflected nationalist frustration at the failure to fully implement the Agreement before 2007. Nationalist Ireland had delivered on its side of the bargain, and may have felt that their concession had not been reciprocated. The strongest evidence of converging popular attitudes can be found in the last two items in Table 6.2: support for decommissioning of paramilitary weapons and mandatory power sharing. While support for the decommissioning of all paramilitary weapons was high in 1998 and had increased among all sections of the population, the most notable change is a substantial rise in Catholic support for decommissioning from 81 to 93 per cent. This movement particularly reflects opinion shift among Sinn Féin supporters – their active support for decommissioning increased by 22 points from 63 to 85 per cent. A defining feature of any consociation is the need for significant sections of the main protagonists to be willing to share power, and the most dramatic shift of opinion revealed in Table 6.2 concerns support for mandatory power sharing between the parties. Overall support for power sharing increased by 13 per cent, and by 15 per cent among Protestants. Active support for power sharing increased between 1998 and 2003 across all major parties, with pronounced shifts among Sinn Féin supporters (+12) and 58

The new Article 3 of Ireland’s constitution recognizes “that a united Ireland shall be brought about only by peaceful means with the consent of a majority of the people expressed, in both jurisdictions in the island.”

164

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans

the UUP (+18), and a truly dramatic rise of 33 per cent amongst DUP voters. Despite all the difficulties of the intervening five years, with the Executive and the Assembly repeatedly suspended, popular support for mandatory sharing of executive power was overwhelming and on the increase. It is clear then that there was a substantial convergence in popular attitudes to the main features of the Agreement between 1998 and 2003.

Conclusion Before the onset of the peace process, both of the more ostensibly “extreme” parties had discovered real limits to their electoral growth. The end to war and the new institutional incentives provided by the 1998 Agreement, facilitated calculated strategic moves by the DUP and Sinn Féin to moderate their platforms while retaining their base electoral support. Thus even in ethnic party systems there can be electoral incentives towards moderation, providing that the parties making the centripetal moves believe that they can protect themselves against flanking by new entrants. Indeed, successful electoral mobilization based on ethnic tribune appeals help guard against potential flanking by new entrants. So far, the DUP has not been seriously challenged by an ultra-loyalist movement – though this could change now that it has joined a power-sharing government with Sinn Féin.59 And so far Sinn Féin has not been challenged by a new “more republican” electoral entrant to the nationalist party system. Sinn Féin and the DUP both seek office and policy benefits, and know they are unlikely to remain electorally dominant by maximizing “ultra” policy positions within their segmented electorates. The logic of the institutions of power sharing implies that executive power can only be acquired through multi-ethnic agreements and de facto or full coalitions. Thus, both motivations, electoral and office-seeking, with the right institutional incentives, may propel formerly “extremist” ethnic parties toward moderated platforms.

59

One DUP MEP, Jim Allister, resigned in protest at the DUP power-sharing deal with Sinn Féin and set up a new hard-line unionist party: Traditional Unionist Voice (TUV). At its first electoral contest (a local government by-election in Dromore), the TUV candidate took 20 per cent of the first preference vote, and its transfers helped elect the UUP rather than the DUP candidate who had been the leader after the first count. Although this result helped to bring forward Ian Paisley’s resignation announcement (as party leader and Northern Ireland First Minister), it is unlikely that the TUV will be a serious electoral threat to the DUP.

7

Consociationalism and the creation of a shared future for Northern Ireland Stephen Farry

Introduction On May 8, 2007 Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness assumed office as the joint heads of a devolved Northern Ireland administration. This was a remarkable turn of events. Ian Paisley, the leader of the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), had made a career out of undermining other unionist leaders and hampering political initiatives, including frustrating the early attempts to implement the Good Friday Agreement. Martin McGuinness, the chief negotiator of Sinn Féin, was an alleged senior member of the Irish Republican Army (IRA). For many, this outcome marked, if not the closure of the Northern Ireland conflict, then its effective stabilization, and for some, notably John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, the consociational scholars most closely associated with the Northern Ireland situation, it marked a pinnacle for the application of consociational theory, albeit in a modified form, to what had been an apparently intractable conflict.1 It is now fashionable to assume that the current arrangement for power sharing in Northern Ireland, whereby the DUP and Sinn Féin coexist as the main partners in government, is the natural conclusion of the peace process. The supposed advantage of the new dispensation is that those with the ability to bring the political institutions down, either through political intransigence or the use of violence, are now firmly locked into the process. The major issues that had caused such difficulties for the early attempts to implement the Agreement have now seemingly been resolved. However, a considerable degree of revisionism has occurred regarding the inevitability of the current balance of power, and its potential stability. The Northern Ireland peace process was already widely regarded as one of the most successful examples of conflict mediation in recent years from the initial passage of the Good Friday Agreement, notwithstanding the problems with implementation. Insofar as the Northern Ireland situation now appears to be stable, this is as much a product of the vested interests and credibility of the DUP and Sinn Féin in the new status quo and a resolution of the issues that tripped up past 1

See, for example, J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press.

166

Stephen Farry

arrangements, as it is a product of institutional design. The current governance arrangements, based upon a modification of the Good Friday Agreement, continue to reflect a consociational approach to sustaining democracy in deeply divided societies. And, in fact, the institutional design of the Agreement carries a number of significant flaws. While these structures, with some exceptions, did not directly contribute to the early crises relating to implementation of the Agreement, the problems persist nevertheless. The modified institutional format, which may have helped some parties, notably the DUP, to finally accept the Agreement in practice, does little to address the fundamental concerns that threaten to undermine longer-term stability. Ultimately, it cannot be dismissed that alternative approaches, to either the structure of negotiations or the nature of an agreed outcome, could have produced the current level of political stability in Northern Ireland sooner or produced a more lasting peace.

Competing approaches? Integrationism and consociationalism are two of a range of approaches to governance within any context, but with particular relevance to deeply divided societies.2 Rather than a stark choice between two exclusively polar opposite models, they are on opposite wings of a broad spectrum of available bundles of tools. Therefore, advocates of liberal or integrationist approaches are likely to share some common ground with consociationalists such as McGarry and O’Leary.3 Key elements of the integrationist approach include incentives to moderation, and the creation and maintenance of a common civic polity. By contrast, consociationalism is part of a range of models that tend to accommodate differences rather than seek to transform or otherwise overcome them. All of the main elements of consociational systems are present in the current governance arrangements for Northern Ireland. The mandatory coalition executive is a form of grand coalition. The system of designations and the related voting systems within the legislature and within the executive reflect mutual vetoes. The twin-hatted nature of the offices of First Minister and Deputy First Minister also reflects this aspect. Proportional representation is 2

3

Consociational approaches are advocated by, amongst others, Arend Lijphart; see, for example, A. Lijphart (1997) Democracy in Plural Societies, New Haven, Yale University Press. Integrationist approaches are advocated by, amongst others, Donald Horowitz; see, for example, D. L. Horowitz (1985) Ethnic Groups in Conflict, Berkeley, University of California Press. Timothy Sisk provides a synthesis of both approaches; T. D. Sisk (1996) Power Sharing and International Mediation in Ethnic Conflicts, Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace. The description of “power sharing” can be applied to a range of outcomes. Further, it is important to note that power sharing is not necessarily restricted to deeply divided societies. In practice, peacemakers or those who design constitutions rarely, if at all, think and act in terms of compliance with any particular model. Rather, labels, associated with particular theories, can be applied to the approaches adopted in different societies. In practice, most approaches to governance will reflect different models to varying extents.

The creation of a shared future

167

used in elections to the Assembly and other elected bodies. In turn, proportionality is used to determine the composition of the Executive. It is further used in terms of some aspects of public appointments and recruitment to the police service. Moreover, there is substantial functional autonomy for what are treated as separate communities, with the state either explicitly or implicitly providing duplication of goods, facilities, and services. However, with the exception of the use of proportionality in elections, I am generally critical of the other core aspects of consociationalism and believe that they are not in the interests of stability and the evolution to an open and modern civic society, with a sustainable economy. The traditional conception of consociationalism as devised by Arend Lipjhart was not readily applicable to Northern Ireland. Inter alia, it was argued that consociationalism worked better in divided societies marked by religious, linguistic, or ethnic, rather than national differences, and where there is agreement on the nature and boundaries of the state. Accordingly, McGarry and O’Leary have modified consociational theory to take into account the binational nature of the dispute and the lack of agreement on the constitutional status of Northern Ireland, and therefore to explain the success of the Good Friday Agreement in both its original and current phases of implementation. Both scholars argue that the version of consociationalism applied in Northern Ireland follows a liberal rather than a corporate approach, in that parties take seats in the legislature and then in the executive, based on a common electorate, and that there is some, albeit limited, space for alternative identities. However, Northern Ireland does exhibit some aspects of a more rigid consociational approach, which are explored below. It is worth noting that the approach to governance is only one factor of many in determining whether or not peace, stability, and democracy can be sustained in deeply divided societies. Matters such as the timing of initiatives, the incentives and disincentives that apply to the various parties, and the nature of the involvement of external mediators have a major influence.4 Furthermore, although one particular approach to governance may seem to be working at any particular moment in time, the argument that other approaches could have worked just as well or better cannot be dismissed. Similarly, some approaches that failed in the past could have worked better in more effective conditions.

The Good Friday Agreement While the Good Friday Agreement of April 10, 1998 did deliver many successes, including improved north–south and east–west relations, and the gradual creation of a new culture that respected equality; implementation 4

The outcome of the Northern Ireland peace process, to date, has clearly been influenced by the shape of the negotiations sponsored by the British and Irish governments, with the assistance of successive United States administrations.

168

Stephen Farry

generally proved to be much more difficult than expected. Tautologically, the Agreement only covered areas on which agreement could be reached. A number of critical issues remained unresolved and continued to create tensions. These included the decommissioning of paramilitary weapons, and the continued legacy of paramilitary violence. The British and Irish governments had initially allowed “ceasefires” to be defined narrowly in the sense of the removal of threats to the state and the so-called “other side,” but paramilitary activity linked to societal control and criminality continued to pose a threat to the rule of law. Furthermore, reform of policing proved to be particularly difficult, with Sinn Féin notably withholding their consent as they wanted broader changes. The tensions around these issues undermined the position of the parties in the dominant leadership positions. While the Agreement was to be nominally inclusive, the underlying assumption was that the Executive would be controlled by a powerful axis between the relatively moderate Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) and the Social and Democratic Labour Party (SDLP), who would in turn keep their respective more hard-line rivals, namely the DUP and Sinn Féin in check. In particular on the unionist side, where support was marginal for the Agreement in the referendum at best, the continued crises over implementation contributed to a situation where significantly less than half of self-defined unionists continued to support the new political dispensation. Elsewhere in society, enthusiasm for the new political structures waned. When the institutions were suspended in October 2002, there was virtually no public protest. The inability of the UUP and SDLP to work together effectively in government did not help the situation. Rather than seek to govern decisively, to understand and assist each other in overcoming problems, they instead had bitter disagreements and spent more time looking over their respective shoulders at the electoral threat from the DUP and Sinn Féin and engaging in half-hearted measures to avoid electoral reversals. There was little attempt to encourage vote transfers under proportional representation. Critically, unionist versus nationalist remained the fundamental political cleavage within society, with two fundamentally different polities rather than any realignment on the basis of the Agreement between pro- and anti-voices. In many respects the story of the early attempts to achieve the full implementation of the Agreement was the struggle to maintain the power-sharing executive in the face of these challenges. Paradoxically, the structures of government that had been put in place by the UUP and SDLP within the Agreement added to the problem. In a general sense, these structures institutionalized intra-ethnic competition. Specifically, the nature of the consociational voting system and the approach to executive formation became hostages to fortune.

A new consociation emerges Between 2001 and 2003, the British, Irish, and United States governments switched their focus from working to provide stability through the UUP and

The creation of a shared future

169

SDLP to trying to achieve the “real deal” between the DUP and Sinn Féin. When the DUP and Sinn Féin decisively overtook their respective unionist and nationalist rivals in terms of both votes and Assembly seats in the November 2003 Assembly election, a new approach became essential.5 Critically, the DUP had a veto over any restoration of the political institutions. From their perspective they required change in two fundamental respects. First, the unresolved peace aspects of the Agreement had to be delivered upon by the republican movement if the DUP was to share power with Sinn Féin. Second, changes to the structures of the Good Friday Agreement were required to give the DUP the necessary cover to operate the institutions of an Agreement they had previously rejected. The DUP entered into talks, on a proximity basis, with Sinn Féin, for the first time at Leeds Castle in September 2004. The subsequent “Comprehensive Agreement,” which attempted to address all the outstanding issues, was almost accepted in December 2004, but the subsequent Northern Bank robbery by the IRA set the process back. The renewed negotiating process was finally brought to a conclusion with the St Andrews Agreement of October 2006, to which both the DUP and Sinn Féin gave their tacit consent.6 The parties themselves were guided into this new dispensation through a series of incentives and disincentives. The DUP acted in part to realize their own ambitions to play a leading role in government, but also because they feared the creation of a new British–Irish agreement to jointly govern Northern Ireland in the absence of workable devolution. The institutional changes to the Good Friday Agreement arising out of the St Andrews Agreement were essentially limited to those changes necessary to achieve the consent of the DUP. A wider reform programme to place the institutions on a more sustainable basis, as advocated by the Alliance Party, was not entertained by the British and Irish governments. Some changes made minor improvements to the institutions, but others entrenched divisions further. Within the Executive, and between the Executive and the Assembly, some changes enhanced the accountability of ministers. There has been concern over some ministers taking decisions within their own ministerial capacity, which did not find broad-based support. Based on the “luckydip” of the d’Hondt formula, some parties could have exercised considerable control without sufficient cross-reference to the views of the other parties, something critical for an effective system of sharing rather than the carving up of power. The prospect of ministers acting on an individual basis against 5

6

This dominance was further enhanced in the 2005 Westminster election, where the plurality system magnified the dominance of stronger parties. The IRA had already decommissioned the remainder of their weapons, and made an unambiguous commitment to end all paramilitary activity. This was verified by the Independent Monitoring Commission which had been established to report on continued paramilitary activity, and in doing so to either create pressure for compliance with the rule of law or to encourage political confidence when progress was being made. On the back of the Agreeement at St Andrews, Sinn Féin gave their support to the reformed policing service in January 2007.

170

Stephen Farry

the wider view of the Executive or Assembly has been reduced to an extent in that ministerial decisions could be challenged and referred back for a collective decision. However, any enhanced collectivity would arise on the basis of the fear of mutual vetoes rather than any genuine meeting of minds.7 The most negative change was the move away from the joint election of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister on a cross-community vote in the Assembly to awarding the top two posts to nominees from the two largest parties in the Assembly from within different designations. The DUP was reluctant to have their Assembly members raising their hands in a direct vote for a joint ticket of Ian Paisley with Martin McGuinness. Other options such as a collective vote to legitimize the entire Executive, as nominated under d’Hondt, were dismissed.8 Overall, though, the institutional changes under the St Andrews Agreement did not fundamentally alter the consociational character of the Good Friday Agreement. Governance in Northern Ireland therefore continues on a fundamentally consociational basis. There are a number of critical problems arising out of this underlying approach: the first of which is a limited approach to identity politics. Other problems relate to the unresolved issue of self-determination, the cost of communal divisions, the challenge of advancing community relations around a “shared future,” political designation in the Assembly, and last – but by no means least – mandatory Executive coalition politics.

A limited approach to identity The consociational approach to governance in Northern Ireland is closely linked to a particular conception of identity. This has implications for public policy, and potential consequences for the future evolution of society. From the top down, the underlying assumption is that Northern Ireland is rigidly divided into two communities. National, political, and religious identities are assumed to correlate to an extremely high extent. Accordingly, these communities are conceived in terms of a British/unionist/Protestant grouping, and an Irish/nationalist/Catholic grouping. These two identities are privileged in the Good Friday Agreement, both in terms of direct references to them and the system of designations and related voting system. There is clearly a strong historical basis for these ethno-nationalist divisions. Insofar as cross-cutting cleavages exist, the traditional divide remains dominant. Yet, the situation is not this simple. Identity has been constructed and divisions further entrenched during different periods of the history of Northern Ireland, including notably, the early years of the twentieth century, 7 8

Annex A of the St Andrews Agreement, www.nio.gov.uk/st_andrews_agreement.pdf Para. 9 of Annex A of the St Andrews Agreement. This provision was subsequently modified within Clause 8 of the subsequent legislation to give effect to this Agreement; see www.nio. gov.uk/northern_ireland(st_andrews_agreement)_bill.pdf

The creation of a shared future

171

the period after the creation of the Northern Ireland state, the onset of “the Troubles,” and, paradoxically, the implementation phase of the Good Friday Agreement. However, this construction of identity at least holds out the prospect that communal identities can be reconstructed to an extent. In general terms, as identities have been shaped by various influences in the past, they can be reshaped in the future. Already, this traditional approach to identity is breaking down. This process has been aided by a growing number of mixed marriages and relationships, and an increase in immigration into Northern Ireland. Individuals have always had multiple identities based on matters such as gender, sexual orientation, or lifestyle interests, in addition to their presumed overlapping national, political, and religious identities. Such cross-cutting cleavages have always been present, but are becoming more pronounced. There is increasing evidence from opinion polls, fair-employment monitoring, and the census that some people are shaking off traditional notions of identity and presumptions over their background, and resent being pigeonholed into rigid and exclusive communities.9 On the other hand, the absence of a dominant sense of an overarching community in Northern Ireland and the traditional approach to identity pose a number of challenges. Crucially, people are conditioned to think in terms of “them” versus “us.” This plays itself out through competition over territory and resources. With territory being viewed in communal terms, disputes and conflict surrounding parades has become a major feature of Northern Ireland over the past two decades; rather than a common, civic approach being adopted which stresses the overall size of the cake and an equitable distribution based on objective need.10

The unresolved issue of self-determination In their work, McGarry and O’Leary have sought to modify the traditional approach to consociationalism in order to take into account the binational character of Northern Ireland and to overcome the limitations of an essentially “internal solution.” However, despite the Good Friday Agreement, there is no consensus on the constitutional future of Northern Ireland, and therefore the nature of the state. Simultaneously, unionists believe that the process will copper-fasten the union with the rest of the United Kingdom 9 10

See, for example, the annual Northern Ireland Life and Times surveys, www.ark.ac.uk/nilt/ The communal conflicts over territory and resources clash most clearly in the area of housing. Housing goes most centrally to a sense of security. There is evidence that people are most reluctant to mix or integrate in the area of housing compared to other aspects of life. With changing demographics, housing pressures themselves change. A territorial approach to housing significantly interferes with the efficiency of the housing market. See Deloitte (April 2007), Research into the Financial Cost of the Northern Ireland Divide, OFMDFM-commissioned research, p. 13. See also, P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press.

172

Stephen Farry

while nationalists believe that it will help to facilitate a united Ireland.11 Essentially, all that has been agreed is the rules for making a decision, i.e. that the people of Northern Ireland have the right to determine their own constitutional status. While this major difference has been downplayed in the short term, it remains a major source of polarization. As the population balance becomes closer in communal terms, perceptions that a change in constitutional status may be on the cards could become more acute, undermine political stability, and threaten a return of large-scale violence.12

The cost of communal division Community relations are marginal within the Good Friday Agreement. Apart from passing references to the promotion of integrated education and mixed housing, the Agreement presumes the continuation of the traditional divide, and reflects a conflict-management approach. Sectarian and racist attitudes remain widespread within Northern Ireland.13 They are by no means restricted to areas in and around interfaces. Segregation is the norm in many aspects of life, including leisure pursuits, education, and, in particular, housing. Public space is often treated as the exclusive preserve of one or other side of the community. Territory is often marked out through paramilitary or other communal symbols, such as flags. More of the inappropriately named “peace walls” have been built since the 1994 ceasefires than before. Contrary to the picture that McGarry and O’Leary paint in the first part of this volume, the period since the ceasefires, and, in particular, since the Agreement, has witnessed significant political polarization. This polarization is contested on the grounds that the parties on the extremes of the political spectrum have significantly moderated and are now working a power-sharing administration. Nevertheless, it is appropriate to acknowledge the reality of a polarized political landscape. The switch in electoral support from the UUP and SDLP to the DUP and Sinn Féin has been dramatic. Both parties managed to obtain this new dominance through exploitation of the political situation, and, in particular, stating or implying that “their side” is being 11

12

13

During the initial years after the Agreement, unionism was badly split with pro-Agreement unionists maintaining that it was necessary to halt the slide to a united Ireland, while antiAgreement unionists regarded it as a threat to the Union. With the de facto acceptance by the DUP of the Good Friday Agreement post the St Andrews Agreement, virtually all of unionist opinion views the current arrangements as in their political and constitutional interests. The power to call a “border poll” rests with the Secretary of State. It is a power that should be deployed sparingly, and only when there is tangible evidence of a potential change in popular opinion. However, a number of unionist and nationalist parties have called for “border polls” to be held. These calls often coincide with elections, and have to be viewed as attempts to mobilize an electoral constituency. This point has been accepted by the government. See for example, OFMDFM (April 2005) A Shared Future – Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland, www.asharedfutureni.gov.uk/policy-strategic.pdf

The creation of a shared future

173

sold out by weak leadership and an over-willingness to compromise on the part of the perceived moderates, or that the “other side” is going to gain undue power. As a result of the new dominance of the DUP and Sinn Féin, politics defined on the basis of exclusive ethno-nationalist loyalties is now more entrenched than before.14 McGarry and O’Leary acknowledge a trend toward “tribune voting,” i.e. the electorate putting their faith in strong leaders to protect the interests of their perceived communities. Politics in Northern Ireland may not be as extreme as before, but it is more polarized. This is an important distinction. Yet whilst recognizing this, there are grounds for arguing that the electorate are more moderate than actual electoral results would indicate. First, opinion polls have regularly indicated broad-based support for a form of power sharing over a number of years. Second, turnout in elections, while still comparatively high, has declined considerably. The real preferences of these voters remain unclear, but it can be argued that they are likely to be more moderate than the norm, in line with the indications from opinion polls.15 Similarly, there are positive signs of improvements in community relations. Traditional notions of identity are breaking down. However, the state is not responding to this through changes in the approach to public policy. The workplace is now largely integrated, although this has been achieved through top-down regulation. There is also growing support and demand for integrated education, mixed housing, and shared public spaces.16 However, these desires are frustrated due to fears over security, and a lack of provision of shared goods, facilities, and services.17 The divisions in Northern Ireland carry significant human, socio-economic, and financial costs. Economically, the legacy of division and violence has deterred investment and tourism. Over the course of almost four decades, the compound effect of these losses to economic growth has been significant. These factors have also interfered with the emergence of a flexible labour market. The peace dividend has not been sufficient to create a step change. Despite an increase in investment and growth, and a considerable fall in the level of unemployment, the economy has a number of structural weaknesses. The economy itself is relatively small: £25 billion. It is very dependent upon the public sector; the latest figure for the public sector share of GDP is 71 per cent. The quality of investment coming into Northern Ireland is of poorer quality than that attracted to the Republic of Ireland.18 Northern 14

15

16 17

18

S. Farry (2006) Northern Ireland: Prospects for Progress in 2006? Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace, pp. 10–11. C. Irwin (2002) The People’s Peace Process in Northern Ireland, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan. See, for example, the annual Northern Ireland Life and Times surveys, www.ark.ac.uk/nilt/ Notably, in the field of education, while 95 per cent of children still attend what are essentially segregated schools, the development of integrated education is suppressed out of fears of the impact on other sectors in the context of overall falling school enrolment. www.dfpni.gov.uk/res_final_draft_january_2007.pdf

174

Stephen Farry

Ireland has stagnated while the “Celtic Tiger” has boomed. There are many explanations for this divergence in economic fortunes, but it is nevertheless clear that the divisions in Northern Ireland have serious consequences for the local economy. Financial costs can be considered in two respects. First, there are the direct costs of additional policing and security and, addressing the consequences of violence. These costs are considerably distorted in Northern Ireland in relation to comparable regions elsewhere. Second, there are considerable embedded costs involved in the provision of duplicate goods, facilities, and services either explicitly – as in the area of education – or implicitly in many other policy spheres. These costs are borne not just by the public sector, as the private sector has to vary its pattern of operation due to patterns of segregation. The Alliance Party has estimated that the combined costs to the public sector amount to approximately £1 billion per annum.19 This is out of an annual Northern Ireland budget of £8 billion in terms of discretionary spending (i.e. excluding transfer payments on social security and similar matters). A report into these costs, commissioned by the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister from Deloitte Touche put this annual cost at as much as £1.5 billion per year.20

Towards a “shared future”? One of the main failings of devolution under the consociational model has been the failure of the Executive to come to terms with the continuing deep divisions within Northern Ireland. Little progress occurred on the matter of community relations during the time of the first phase of devolution between 1999 and 2002.21 At best, the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister commissioned a review under Professor Jeremy Harbison; yet the release of a formal consultation document on a new community-relations strategy was delayed for a year due to the absence of agreement between the UUP and SDLP. Only upon the suspension of devolution and the restoration of direct rule did the British government launch a formal consultation exercise. And in March 2005, the government unveiled their policy framework document entitled A Shared Future: Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland.22 This new policy framework is significant in three key respects. First, it rejects the notion that an approach of managing divisions based on the 19

20

21

22

See, for example, Alliance Party (2007) Alliance Works: Manifesto Assembly Elections 7 March 2007. Deloitte, Research into the Financial Cost. This report was released only after a freedom of information request from the Alliance Party. It is also available at www.davidford.org/ resources/index/ The Alliance Party voted against successive Programmes for Government on the grounds that they did not address community relations issues sufficiently. www.asharedfutureni.gov.uk/policy-strategic.pdf

The creation of a shared future

175

“separate but equal,” parallel provision of goods and services is sustainable. Second, it sets out the vision of a normal, civic society, where individuals are treated as equal citizens. Third, there is a commitment to building a shared and integrated society, where people can live and learn, work and play, together. This document was followed up by the first triennial shared-future action plan (A Shared Future First Triennial Action Plan 2006–2009) in April 2006.23 This set out the policy detail deemed necessary to commence the implementation of the new vision. However, shared future policies were actively resisted by Sinn Féin, which perceived them as a threat to equity considerations. The DUP, on the other hand, has no vested interest in the promotion of a shared future, and hence was not prepared to spend any political capital in defending or supporting the policy. Hence, with the restoration of devolution, this time with the DUP and Sinn Féin in dominant positions of power, the shared-future strategy has – not surprisingly – been quietly sidelined. The concept of a “shared future” has been replaced by the directionless concept of a “better future” in the aspirational branding of the new Executive. There were few references to “community relations,” “good relations,” or “a shared future” – never mind any fresh impetus to redirect Northern Ireland towards an integrated society – within the draft Programme for Government 2008–11, the draft budget 2008–11, or the draft Investment Strategy for Northern Ireland 2008–18.24 In sum, it is far from clear that a consociational approach to governance is capable of addressing the divisions within Northern Ireland.

Assembly designations Traditional conceptions of identity have been institutionalized within the requirement for members of the Assembly to designate themselves as either “unionist,” “nationalist,” or “other.” Within the related voting system, key decisions in the Assembly are then made on a “cross-community” basis, with a requirement that either 50 per cent of designated unionists, 50 per cent of designated nationalists, and 50 per cent of MLAs overall support a resolution, or, alternatively, 40 per cent, 40 per cent, and 60 per cent, respectively, vote in favour. There are essentially four problems with this system.25 First, it signals that the divisions in Northern Ireland are part of a natural (pre-given) order. The stipulated designations imply that this society will be forever divided, requiring continual and skilful conflict management, rather than becoming a united, though diverse, community with common goals and shared interests. Hence, this system can be described as institutionalizing divisions. Second, there is not an equality of votes from MLAs: votes from “unionists” and 23 24 25

www.asharedfutureni.gov.uk/action_plan_final-2.pdf See, for instance, www.pfgbudgetni.gov.uk/ Alliance Party (2004) Agenda for Democracy.

176

Stephen Farry

“nationalists” carry greater weight than “others.”26 Third, the system is overly rigid, and may struggle to reflect changing circumstances, and, in particular, acts as a deterrent against the emergence or development of non-communalbased parties. Fourth, the system can easily become a hostage to fortune. During the 1998–2003 Assembly, the balance between pro- and anti-Agreement unionists was particularly close. As the 50:50:50 system of cross-community voting was the only system that could be used to elect the First Minister and Deputy First Minister on a joint ticket, the potential difficulties in re-electing a top team loomed as a potential problem. After one of the suspensions of the devolved institutions, a vote in the Assembly was required to elect the First Minister and Deputy First Minister team in November 2001. On the first vote, over 70 per cent of Assembly MLAs voted for David Trimble (UUP) and Mark Durkan (SDLP) as First Minster and Deputy First Minister, but the resolution fell, as insufficient designated unionists had voted in favour. A change of standing orders was subsequently negotiated between the parties to allow three Alliance MLAs to temporarily re-designate as “unionists” and for a second vote to be held, this time successfully.

Mandatory coalition politics The most consociational aspect of the institutional framework of the Good Friday Agreement is the mandatory or involuntary coalition. This equates to the grand coalition of classical consociational theory. The Executive is formed, not through negotiation between the parties, but on the basis of the rigid, semi-proportional d’Hondt formula, whereby parties choose their ministerial portfolios in rank order in accordance with their strength in the Assembly. There is no requirement for the parties taking office to agree on a programme for government in advance. Furthermore, the Executive is not sustained through any form of collective legitimization through the Assembly. In most other democracies, either a single party with a majority, or, alternatively, like-minded parties come together in a voluntary coalition, to negotiate the terms of office in advance, and the resulting government is sustained through either simple or weighted majority support within the legislature. The current approach to executive formation has been not just defended, but championed by McGarry and O’Leary. However, it has a number of major drawbacks and contradictions. Critically, there is a lack of incentives for moderation between the parties in government. With parties being guaranteed a place in government in proportion to their strength, there is no need for any willingness to compromise in order to form an administration. Nevertheless, compromise is required in order to deliver effective public26

Technically, votes from “nationalists” count for more than “unionists” in that, as there are less nationalists overall, the vote of each individual MLA can have a more proportionate influence on outcomes.

The creation of a shared future

177

policy outcomes. In the absence of sufficient incentives to do so, action may only occur on the basis of the lowest common denominator of agreement. Important areas of policy – where decisive actions may be required – could go unaddressed. Despite the minor improvements from the St Andrews Agreement, there remains a critical absence of collective responsibility. Ministers have considerable freedom of manoeuvre within their respective departments, without reference to the rest of the Executive and the Assembly. In a system of power sharing, where outcomes are supposed to reflect a range of views across the community, this seems bizarre. Furthermore, there is no effective remedy in place when the backbench members of some parties in government vote against Executive business. Furthermore, it would be difficult for an underperforming or corrupt minister to be removed from office. Only the party nominating officer can act in such circumstances. From the perspective of the electorate it is difficult to effect a change in government policy and – with some parties being more or less guaranteed ministerial office – to replace one government with another. Overall, the system is prone to complacency, corruption, and lack of imagination in policy. Fundamentally, it lacks the natural checks, balances, and self-correcting mechanisms that exist within a voluntary coalition. The operation of the Assembly and the Executive since the restoration of devolution in May 2007 has already exposed a number of these flaws. The DUP and Sinn Féin have dominated the Executive, with the UUP and SDLP ministers being marginalized within. Yet there have been tensions between the two main parties. Their backbenchers regularly square off over a wide range of issues, including voting against each other. While few items of Executive business have resulted in major breaches between the two parties, major crises over issues such as the future of post-primary education loom on the horizon. Ministers from all parties have been criticized for taking solo runs on particular issues without sufficiently consulting Executive colleagues; including, for example, the SDLP Minister for Social Development over funding for the UDA-linked Conflict Transformation Initiative (CTI), and the Sinn Féin Education Minister over post-primary education. Both the draft Legislative Programme and draft Programme for Government have been criticized by the Alliance Party and elements of civic society for being very minimalist. With many policy challenges going unaddressed, this does suggest that progress is only happening on the basis of the lowest common denominator. The biggest rupture has been the position of the UUP and SDLP within the Executive. Both parties are in office, but not in power. The SDLP Minister for Social Development, Margaret Ritchie, was denied support over the CTI decision referred to above. Both the UUP Health Minister and the Social Development Minister are very unhappy with their draft budget allocations. Both the UUP and SDLP are in a contradictory position and cannot be both in government and in opposition at the same time. Ironically, the UUP and SDLP are now cooperating better in semi-opposition than they did

178

Stephen Farry

when they were the two main partners in government. Both the UUP and the SDLP backed Alliance Party amendments criticizing the draft Legislative Programme and draft Programme for Government, sparking reminders from the DUP of the fundamental nature and requirements of a mandatory coalition. If those parties take the next step and vote against the actual adoption of either the Programme for Government or budget, it would create a major constitutional crisis, and the Executive would limp on without an effective remedy to the difficulties. (In other jurisdictions, a vote against such fundamental aspects of government business would force the collapse of the coalition and either the formation of an alternative government or a fresh election.) From the DUP perspective, they would be reluctant to see either the UUP or SDLP leave the Executive. The mandatory coalition is the cover for being in power with Sinn Féin. They have rationalized this step by arguing that they do not have any choice over their coalition partners. They would not want to be left in government with only Sinn Féin. Ultimately, it is worth noting that at least three of the four parties currently participating in the Executive have expressed or experienced difficulties with the system.

Conclusions While it remains a moot point as to whether a liberal-democratic Northern Ireland can be built on the basis of the Agreement or whether an alternative approach would have been more effective, the current governance arrangements and balance of power is the starting point for any consideration of the future. In this regard, there are significant grounds for doubting the long-term stability and effectiveness of the application of consociationalism to Northern Ireland. Accordingly, action is required in three interlocked areas. First, a different approach to identity issues is necessary. Identity-based politics is likely to be a major feature of politics in the twenty-first century. One emerging cleavage may be the split between an open and optimistic approach to globalization and a closed and defensive position. Already there is a growing body of evidence suggesting that integrated and diverse societies perform relatively better in economic terms. Northern Ireland does need to better engage with the rest of the world. The historical approaches to identity risk holding this society back, with the critical unresolved issues of Northern Ireland’s constitutional status looming large. A liberal approach to the divisions in Northern Ireland can address the constitutional question. Two broad and contrasting approaches would be to either play down identity issues, or, alternatively, to seek to promote a greater sense of a shared Northern Ireland identity, couched in the context of a devolving British Isles and a Europe of the regions. Second, linked to identity issues, there must be an active policy to address community relations and to build a shared and integrated society. While this

The creation of a shared future

179

may or may not be carried out on the basis of the current shared-future policy framework, such a framework is nevertheless essential. Finally, in terms of the institutions, a number of key changes are necessary. With respect to the system of designations and the associated voting system, the simplest and most effective option would be the introduction of a weighted majority vote, free of reference to designations, with a threshold set somewhere between 60 and 70 per cent (to their credit, McGarry and O’Leary have actually advocated such an approach in terms of a move away from a rigid consociationalist approach). Beyond this, the Executive could be formed on the basis of a voluntary power-sharing coalition, operating to collective responsibility and sustained by a cross-community weighted majority vote in the Assembly. No party would have an automatic right to be in the Executive; a situation could be envisaged where parties could move in and out of government. It should be noted that there is an important distinction between inclusivity in governance, in which every party is involved with the wider sphere of decision making and is a potential partner in office, and inclusivity in government, in which every party is guaranteed places in office, based purely on votes rather than policy compatibility. This has been the norm in other consociational democracies. It can be anticipated that this approach to Executive formation and maintenance could deliver more efficient, effective, and cohesive government. It could encourage greater moderation by and cooperation between parties. Furthermore, it would be more consistent with the creation of an open and liberal society – and of a shared future.

8

Consociational government Inside the devolved Northern Ireland Executive Rick Wilford

Introduction The restoration of devolution in May 2007 prompted some in Northern Ireland to identify with the queen in Alice in Wonderland who believed in as many as six impossible things before breakfast. The image of Ian Paisley and Gerry Adams sitting in angular proximity and, thereafter, recurring photographs of the chucklesome First Minister and Deputy First Minister, Dr Paisley and Martin McGuinness, seemed like the stuff of dreams – or, perhaps, nightmares. Either way, it was a remarkable turn of events, seized upon avidly by both consociationalists, whether revisionists or purists, to celebrate the verities of the model, and by politicians of all stripes to hail Northern Ireland as an exemplar of how to design the means of governing divided societies. When devolution day, May 8, arrived, the United Kingdom and Irish premiers, together with other “luminaries” – including the IRA’s army council – assembled at Parliament Buildings to witness the proceedings and to wish the new administration well: at least, up to a point. The ensuing honeymoon period, shaped by the vows taken at St Andrews, boded well. Even before powers were formally transferred, the four leading parties agreed on both the allocation of the departmental dowries and the chairmanships and deputy chairmanships of the Assembly’s committees. The fact that such prenuptial details were agreed in advance of devolution contrasted sharply with the first interrupted phase of self-government that began in 1999. On that occasion, there were no inclusive negotiations over either the distribution of the departments or the leaderships of the committees. Instead, via the d’Hondt procedure, ministers, chairs, and deputy chairs, were nominated in a process akin to the pulling of political straws. Moreover, the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), then the third largest party, while claiming the two “cabinet” seats to which it was entitled, shunned meetings of both the 12-member Executive and the North–South Ministerial Council, and in retaliation was prevented from participating in the British–Irish Council by the other ministers. Against that background, the restoration of devolution in 2007 undeniably got off to a more auspicious start, one further aided by enabling the

Consociational government

181

ministers-in-waiting to be briefed during the six-week gap between the election and the formal transfer of powers. Thus, rather than being parachuted into office, the nascent ministers had a much more leisurely introduction to their respective portfolios. Indeed, if one includes the meetings of the Preparation for Government committee, established by the Secretary of State in May 2006 and which met until the following November, and its near successor, the Programme for Government committee, which met between November 2006 and May 2007, the parties were in theory much better prepared for the resumption of devolution than they were when powers were first transferred at the end of 1999. Before commenting on the operation of the current Executive, which is still in its infancy, I want to reflect on the dynamics of its predecessor: more particularly, to explore the extent to which it sought to promote and practise joined-up government (JUG). This is not to imply that had there been a more joined-up approach between and among the devolved departments and, more broadly, across the three institutional strands, their demise would have been averted. Nor am I suggesting that JUG is, or can be, a panacea for our considerable ills, or that one should be complacent about the ease with which it can be implemented: JUG is difficult in even the most conducive of contexts, including the presence in office of a single-party government with a significant majority. I want to examine whether consociationalism or, more properly, Northern Ireland’s grand coalition and JUG are compatible, or whether they are necessarily incompatible in the context of a divided society. At the outset and just to be clear, I am not suggesting that JUG should displace the requirement for a power-sharing government: far from it. Instead, my proposition is that if the focus of negotiations is fixed on the institutional architecture of Executive design, as was the case in 1998, then the prospect of achieving an effective and efficient set of policy outcomes – of making a substantive difference to the lives of the plain people in Northern Ireland – is jeopardized. But then policy deficits are the price of a confected, inclusionary consociation. This is not to imply that an agreed, voluntary coalition is sufficient to improve the lot of the wider community, more that it is a necessary step in that direction. Of course, there could be just such a coalition under the terms of the Belfast and St Andrews Agreements: parties are not compelled to exercise the option of taking the seats to which, on the basis of their electoral performance, they are nominally entitled: it is a matter of choice. Given that the four major parties chose to enter the Executive in 1999 (and again in 2007), they were confronted with the task of trying to devise a programme for government, a difficult task made more so by the DUP’s stance of Executive semi-detachment: the “ministers-in-opposition” tactic as its deputy leader Peter Robinson defined it. And, while David Trimble envisaged the emergence of an Ulster Unionist Party (UUP)/Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) coalition within a coalition, to provide the stable centre of a four-party Executive, this was not to be, given the rich mix of political strain

182

Rick Wilford

and mutual personal antipathy to which both he and the then Deputy First Minister, Séamus Mallon, contributed and to which they were subjected. Indeed, the physical spaces that they occupied, with offices at either wing of Parliament Buildings, swiftly became a metaphor for the increasing political and policy distance between them – and it was a decidedly chilly space. While Séamus Mallon’s successor, Mark Durkan, initially strove to bridge that gap, he too eventually succumbed, withdrawing to his side of the communal divide, thereby perpetuating the inherent stresses of the co-premiership. How then did the first Executive work? Indeed, could it work, given the lack of provision for collective responsibility and the textual warrant provided by the Belfast Agreement that enabled ministers to go on solo policy runs? Could there be joined-upness in a coalition that enticed its four parties into an ill-formed consociational tent and left them to make things up as they jostled along? The short answer to that is “No.” More to the point, have lessons, both positive and negative, been drawn by the 2007 Executive that will enable ministers to operate in a more cohesive and collective manner? It is too early to tell as yet, but there is already evidence that some of the stays in the consociational corset are beginning to pop with the immanent strain. Let me return, briefly, to JUG. What first set me thinking about JUG and Executive performance was that the pursuit of the former at national level by Tony Blair as part of his wider modernizing government agenda coincided with the devolution project within the UK: there was, in short, a by no means accidental convergence between the two grand designs. Second, and more specifically, in structural terms joined-upness dovetailed with the 1998 Agreement’s institutional architecture. After all, its three strands were (and are) intended to interweave: pull at one, and the others would unravel – or so we were told. This interlocking pattern appeared, on paper at least, as an exemplary expression of joined-up inter-institutional and intergovernmental design, while the power-sharing philosophy of the Agreement was intended to promote a sense of common, joined-up, ownership of its institutions. In that respect, the Agreement was not confined to the letter of institutional design: it also addressed the spirit in which the institutions were to be animated, since its text is peppered with concepts such as “consent,” “pluralism,” and “agreement.”1 Taken together, structural design and behavioural spirit were meant to imbue the institutions with an explicit model of inclusiveness and, potentially, of joined-upness. My focus is on the extent to which that potential was realized in the first Executive and, more to the point, whether it can be in the new one established in 2007.

Joined-up government The exact origins of the concept of JUG and, indeed, the phrase itself is contested, but it leapt to prominence when it was employed by Tony Blair at 1

The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf

Consociational government

183

the launch of its first tangible expression, the Social Exclusion Unit, in December 1997. Although it was a novel form of words, it addressed a venerable problem and, in that respect, is a new name for an old administrative doctrine: namely, how to achieve integration and coordination within central government on both a vertical and a horizontal axis – and it is the latter dimension that I wish to consider. That is, whether its ministers coordinated departments to tackle policy problems in an integrated and cross-cutting way, including those problems dubbed as “wicked issues.” The wickedness of such issues, which can encompass homelessness, drugs misuse, social exclusion, truancy, and alcohol abuse – and, in the context of Northern Ireland’s divided society, community relations – arises in part because they defy simple definition and as such are likely to defeat even the best efforts of a single dedicated department to resolve them because their underlying causes and the symptoms they present straddle traditional, functionally organized departmental boundaries. In short, joined-up problems require joined-up, cross-cutting solutions: JUG in that sense was intended to tackle a besetting sin of central government (and not only in the UK) – departmentalism. The broad diagnosis by the exponents of JUG is that there is an inherent tendency within departments to be insular, narrow-visioned and turf conscious.2 To capture that seemingly innate characteristic, a new set of metaphors began to be applied to departments: they were said to be “chimneys,” “silos,” or “locked boxes,” related to but separate from their administrative and policy-making neighbours, and thereby promoting inefficient patterns of expenditure and ineffective policy making. As Christopher Hood has observed, there was something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue about Blair’s zeal for JUG.3 Efforts to coordinate and integrate departments are far from original, they have a lengthy ancestry: Blair was, in that sense, revisiting an old problem. However, his modernizing zeal, including the shift towards a more holistic understanding of complex problems, together with the scope of his joined-up ambition, provided the novel elements. The borrowed aspects included the heavy reliance placed on information technology by, among others, the next man not to be president, Al Gore, in the early 1990s, to “break down organizational boundaries and speed service delivery,”4 while 2

3

4

See, for example, G. Mulgan (2005) Joined Up Government: Past, Present and Future, London, The Young Foundation; Perri 6 et al. (2002) Towards Holistic Governance: The New Reform Agenda, Basingstoke, Palgrave; B. G. Peters (1998) “Managing horizontal government: The politics of coordination,” Public Administration 76(2), 295–311; C. Pollitt (2003) “Joined up government: A survey,” Political Studies Review 1(1), 34–49. For UK government publications on joined-up government, see www.nationalschool.gov.uk/policy C. Hood (2005) “The idea of joined-up government: A historical perspective,” in V. Bogdanor (ed.) Joined-Up Government, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 19–42. A. Gore (1993) Report of the National Performance Review: From Red Tape to Results – Creating a Government that Works Better and Costs Less, Washington, DC, US Government Printing Office, p. 50.

184

Rick Wilford

the blue dimension was supplied by John Major’s belief in the integrating potential of e-government. According to its advocates, in order to be effective, JUG needs a hands-on political champion: a committed prime minister (and an equally committed head of the civil service), equipped with a redesigned and strengthened strategic centre – which was swiftly and explicitly defined by the first Blair government as embracing No. 10, the Treasury, and the Cabinet Office. Besides dedicated leadership at the top or, rather, the centre, among the other conditions necessary to get ministers and officials thinking and acting laterally are the dismantling of barriers to joined-up thinking and action, new incentives to reward group work across departmental boundaries, clear strategic purpose and policy direction, and, not least, the underpinning convention of collective responsibility. This prescription did not entail a wholesale assault on departments, of course. The answer to departmentalism was not that everything should be lumped together into a misshapen conglomerate but, rather, that specialists both from within and outside government would be enabled to bring their expertise to the same, shared table so that joined-up, cross-cutting objectives could be pursued in mutually reinforcing ways.

Departmental design By the time Northern Ireland’s first devolved Executive got (belatedly) under way, JUG, as Ed Page observes, had “passed into the language of administrative change and reform as a good thing.”5 It is certainly the case that JUG was very much in the political and administrative ether when the 1998 Agreement was reached. The question is whether it informed the design of the Executive: to which the answer is an emphatic “No.” When the parties’ negotiators began to address the reconfiguration of the six existing direct-rule departments, the premium was placed on inclusiveness, utterly in keeping with Lijphart’s prescription for a grand, power-sharing coalition.6 In addition, the process of negotiating a devolved Executive (and the other Strand One institutions, which were led, if not dominated, by the UUP and SDLP) was governed by the proportionality principle: that is, the reshaping of the inherited departments should reflect the respective electoral strengths of the major parties. The only limiting factor was that the Agreement stipulated a maximum of ten departments, together with the Office of the formally co-equal First Minister and Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM), making a total of 11 departments. The product of the negotiations was a relatively straightforward trade-off between, primarily, the UUP and the SDLP. The former’s preferred position 5

6

E. Page (2005) “Joined-up government and the civil service,” in Bogdanor (ed.) Joined-Up Government, p. 139. See, for example, A. Lijphart (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press.

Consociational government

185

was seven departments (plus the OFMDFM) while the latter sought ten, alongside the OFMDFM. As David Trimble stated: “In part it was the usual business about things expanding to fill up the available space. The SDLP was never going to agree a figure that wouldn’t give them parity, and seven departments would have been self-serving for us. At the end of the day it was a simple political deal.”7 The other side of the bargain was that the UUP agreed to the 12 cross-border bodies suggested in the text of the Agreement, the SDLP’s minimalist position, whereas the UUP wanted a smaller number. The net result meant that, via d’Hondt, the Executive would include six unionist and six nationalist ministers: ten heading departments and two in the OFMDFM. The focus throughout the negotiations, as Sean Farren put it, “was on an agreed number of portfolios”:8 put another way, “size matters.” There was no attempt, rudimentary or otherwise, by the parties to plan how these departments might relate in a joined-up way. According to David Trimble, the then head of the Northern Ireland Civil Service had remarked during a meeting: “that anything can be brigaded, there need not be an organic connection among departmental responsibilities” which implies that there was no steer by officials in a joined-up direction.9 Unlike in Scotland, little serious consideration, certainly not on an interparty basis, was paid to the option of “thematic” departments, such as those focused on particular groups within the population (children or the elderly, for instance) enabling ministers or their juniors to have roving cross-departmental briefs in order to ply their joined-up trade. While the SDLP did flirt with the idea (as did both the Alliance Party and the Women’s Coalition) and discussed it with ministers in both London and Dublin who either were or had held thematic briefs, the conclusion it drew was that such departments were, in Mark Durkan’s words, “a nightmare to work” and that their ministers carried little political or budgetary clout.10 The thematic approach had, though, been put on the agenda by the Agreement which had referred to the prospect of creating an equality department, an idea supported strongly by Sinn Féin and, at least initially, by the Irish Government. However, neither the UUP nor the SDLP would countenance the prospect of such a department being headed by, in the former’s case a nationalist and in the latter’s a unionist minister. Instead, they agreed to establish an equality unit in the OFMDFM: a default option chosen largely on the ground of mutual mistrust. This mistrust enveloped the politics of making the Agreement and it was fanned further by the d’Hondt method of Executive formation. The sequential nomination of ministers was to be conducted in conditions of uncertainty. 7 8 9 10

D. Trimble (2006) Interview with the author. S. Farren (2006) Interview with the author. Trimble, interview. M. Durkan (2006) Interview with the author.

186

Rick Wilford

While it certainly obviated the need for negotiations over the allocation of departments, the absence of trust meant that the parties kept their departmental preferences close to their respective chests. This is not to say that there was no information sharing, but it was limited essentially to the UUP and the SDLP (although Mark Durkan was aware of Sinn Féin’s interest in three departments: Education, Health, and Agriculture).11 The two largest parties did know their respective first preferences, but beyond that the process was unpredictable, not least because the DUP kept its departmental targets totally under wraps. To a limited extent, the abortive running of d’Hondt in July 1999 also concentrated some, especially unionist, minds. For instance, the UUP was aghast at the prospect of Sinn Féin taking the Department for Enterprise, Trade and Investment (DETI) which it had done in July in the person of Bairbre de Brún. As Sir Reg Empey put it, the UUP’s reaction at the time was, “My God! If this was for real, the external face of Northern Ireland would be hers. If she’s rampaging about externally, in the US for instance, we would lose control.” Thus, while Sir Reg Empey, the UUP’s first ministerial nominee, personally favoured the Environment Department he and the party leadership felt constrained to choose DETI as its first choice “to stop her getting her hands on the Department.”12 Similarly, the DUP was concerned that the Department for Regional Development (DRD) would be taken by Sinn Féin as its initial choice (it had been an SDLP choice, though not its first, in July 1999). The DUP could not contemplate this outcome: for them it meant that, among other things, a Sinn Féin minister would be in charge of the regional development strategy which would enable it to determine where housing development would take place, a prospect that it did not relish: as Peter Robinson put it, “if they had that responsibility, then that power could easily have been abused.”13 To prevent that future, the DUP chose DRD as its first preference, although it was pencilled in on its own departmental wish list. Of course, as mentioned earlier, such a miasma of mistrust and uncertainty did not attend the running of d’Hondt in May 2007. The departmental allocations were agreed in advance such that there were no shocks or surprises on nomination day: each party had signalled its preferred departments (or department in the case of the SDLP) and identified their respective ministers, suggesting that the cloud of uncertainty and, to some extent, mistrust had been dispelled. However, this has not as yet led to a concerted effort to promote joined-upness, nor even a genuflection in that direction, in part because the ministers have inherited an Executive that is an administrative mess: nowhere is that more apparent than in the OFMDFM. 11 12 13

Durkan, interview. R. Empey (2006) Interview with the author (both quotes). P. Robinson (2006) Interview with the author.

Consociational government

187

The OFMDFM: the centre that could not hold The task of allocating functions to the 11 departments was steered by the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (designate), respectively Trimble and Mallon, and it proved to be a very untidy and, according to the first ministerial cohort, largely civil-service driven process. Trimble and Mallon were, of course, formally co-equal, a status that the latter was extremely sensitive about, not to say prickly. The dual premiership, an explicit expression of power sharing, leant both symbolic and strategic potential to their office: the incumbents were charged to coordinate the work of the Executive, over which they would jointly preside, and that itself would provide the forum for the discussion of and agreement upon “issues which cut across the responsibilities of two or more ministers”:14 a phrase that was an evident but, as it turned out, rather quixotic tilt at JUG. To be effective in integrating and coordinating the Executive, the OFMDFM needed both coalescent leadership, a hallmark of consociationalism,15 and a strategic focus, a prerequisite for JUG: it possessed neither. The sheer number of responsibilities allocated to the OFMDFM frustrated any strategic potential it may have commanded. Between December 1998 and the end of February 1999, the number of functions it acquired grew from 11 to 26. While some of them were relatively minor, it meant that rather than emerging from the process as an integrated office fit for strategic purpose, it was an untidy, sprawling bureau with a staff of around 400 civil servants, an establishment that reflected the span of its departmental responsibilities. Both Trimble and Mallon held senior civil servants responsible for this outcome, both those in the newly created departments “who kicked the things they didn’t like or want into OFMDFM” and the head of the civil service who, according to Mallon “had no strategic concept of what it should be.”16 The perception quickly formed among its incumbents, including the two junior ministers, and the other ministers that the OFMDFM was a decidedly bleak house. A variety of metaphors was employed to characterize the OFMDFM, including “a sin bin,” “a black hole,” or “quite simply, a mess.” As Denis Haughey (SDLP), one of its two junior ministers put it, “it had far too much ministerial business to do: it couldn’t devote itself to strategising and coordinating the Executive. We were not functioning as a department of the centre, in fact it was dysfunctional.”17 Hobbled by administrative overload, which frustrated its strategic potential – a necessary condition for JUG – it also suffered from the absence 14 15

16 17

The Agreement, Strand One, Executive Authority, 19. A. Lijphart (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press. Interviews with the author. D. Haughey (2006) Interview with the author.

188

Rick Wilford

of a coalescent style of leadership which impaired the politics of accommodation prized by consociationalists. As Trimble mused: “The co-equal status of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister was a real necessity for joined-upness, but we immediately reflected that by going to opposite ends of Parliament Buildings!”18 To cut a lengthy story short, the relationship between Trimble and Mallon, as the Agriculture Minister Bríd Rogers (SDLP) put it, was “truly dreadful: it just didn’t work.”19 In Mallon’s view, the root of the problem was that the First Minister was “someone who didn’t believe in the fundamental premises of the Agreement, who didn’t believe in its jointedness. In such circumstances, you have real problems.”20 Those problems also arose because of Mallon’s rigid insistence concerning the co-equal status he enjoyed. Denis Haughey, while recognizing that there were “certain essentials about jointery” believes that Mallon carried it “too far. For him it was a major issue, even in relation to minor matters.”21 Bríd Rogers concurred with this assessment, believing that “there was a lack of trust on Séamus’ part such that he felt he had to be on top of everything: nothing could happen unless he agreed to it. It was very, very difficult: you have to delegate responsibility and trust people.”22 In effect, what was designed to be a double-jointed, co-equal partnership became a disjointed, mistrustful relationship. Instead of being joined up, the entire ministerial “team” in the OFMDFM, in the words of the other junior minister, Dermot Nesbitt (UUP), was “decoupled.”23 Nor did matters improve when Mark Durkan succeeded Mallon as Deputy First Minister. While concerned to try to build a working partnership with Trimble he too became increasingly frustrated with the First Minister’s frequent trips to London and his perceived ill-preparedness for meetings. In Durkan’s view, “My efforts to create a good working atmosphere, a constructive partnership, were being abused so I made a point about being more pointed about things. It got to the point where if somebody stopped something then I’d say to myself ‘Well, I’ve got to stop something too.’”24 Throughout the devolved period, coalescence yielded to conflict and integration succumbed to fragmentation at what was intended to be the strategic hub of the Executive: the centre, in the shape of the OFMDFM, could not hold.

Coping with the DUP The wider canvas of intra-Executive relationships were in considerable measure structured by the DUP’s tactic of retreating into their departmental 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Trimble, interview. B. Rogers (2006) Interview with the author. S. Mallon (2006) Interview with the author. Haughey, interview. Rogers, interview. D. Nesbitt (2005) Interview with the author. Durkan, interview.

Consociational government

189

silos, boycotting the institutions of Strands One and Two, and acting like “ministers in opposition”: the best of all possible worlds. It meant, as the party’s Nigel Dodds (Social Development Minister) put it, “We were able to have our cake and eat it,”25 a view that Mallon shared: “They got everything they wanted and more, they were like cats with sweet milk. There was no pressure on them: for them it was Christmas.”26 According to the DUP’s Peter Robinson (Regional Development Minister), in battling for his budget he applied “the crying child principle,” highlighting the need for infrastructure investment in transport, roads, water services, making those needs public and “leaving public pressure to do the rest for us.”27 This self-portrait, Robinson as “Oliver Twist,” was roundly rejected by the other ministers. Sir Reg Empey, for instance, insisted that the increased expenditure on infrastructure was endorsed by the Executive “because it served the interests of ‘NI Plc.’ He didn’t increase the DRD budget, the Executive did.”28 Michael McGimpsey (UUP), the Culture, Arts and Leisure Minister, dismissed the “crying child” analogy in emphatic terms: “Rubbish! He was pushing at an open door, basically doing our will. If we had decided that we were going to make it difficult he wouldn’t have got the resources, simple as that.”29 The difficulties caused by the DUP’s annexed position led less to the politics of accommodation and more to the politics of constraint, given the uncertainties of the wider context and the growing opposition to the Agreement within the unionist electorate. While the other members of the Executive did penalize the DUP by, for instance, withholding papers from them other than those relating to their two departments, they were largely hamstrung by the DUP’s tactics. This is not to claim that its ministers were islands entire unto themselves. Bilaterals with the Finance Ministers (first Mark Durkan and latterly his SDLP colleague Sean Farren) were routinely held and there was the usual pattern of inter-departmental cooperation with all other departments, albeit that in the case of Sinn Féin’s two ministries (Education; and Health, Social Services and Personal Safety) these were conducted exclusively at official level. However, inter-departmentalism is not a synonym for JUG: if anything it reinforces an inertial tendency among civil servants to adopt an insular focus. As Sir Reg Empey observed, “People have no idea just how difficult it is to get civil servants to think outside the box, to think laterally: they are used to thinking vertically not horizontally.”30 This view is echoed by Peter Robinson: “Some of them found it difficult to accept anyone encroaching on what they saw as their domain … they were very much the chieftains before devolution, holding 25 26 27 28 29 30

N. Dodds (2006) Interview with the author. Mallon, interview. Robinson, interview. Empey, interview. M. McGimpsey (2006) Interview with the author. Empey, interview.

190

Rick Wilford

their territorial boundaries against all-comers. So, when we got devolution that element was already there: ‘we’re fighting for our budget, not another department’s budget.’ It’s not always the ministers who are the most territorial.”31 There was, of course, a textual warrant for the besetting sin of departmentalism, namely that the Northern Ireland Act 1998, which implemented the Agreement, vested authority in individual ministers and their departments and not in the Executive as a whole. While not unusual, certainly in the UK context, this was not counterpoised by the provision for collective responsibility, nor indeed a mechanism by which it could be engineered. Moreover, unlike the civil-service code in Britain which commits civil servants to the service of the government as a whole, that in Northern Ireland committed them to the service of the individual ministers. As David Trimble recalled: “their attitude was that their duty lay with their ministers. One minister gave his official direct orders not to cooperate with the other ministers and the OFMDFM. Where that happened, and it did happen, the civil servants said in effect: ‘It’s my legal duty to defy the First and Deputy First Ministers.’”32

Programme for Government One deleterious effect of this departmental mindset was that the Executive’s Programme for Government (PfG) did not emerge as a concise statement of its strategic policy priorities but rather as a collated set of departmental wish lists. Lest we lose sight of JUG here, it should be noted that the PfG was intended to be the glue cohering the devolved administration and, moreover, it was portrayed by Trimble and Mallon in resounding joined-up terms. The former called it “the first step in achieving joined-up government” and the latter represented it as “an exercise in joined-up government which flows from the collective reflection of the Executive and not from the individual interests of the departments.”33 However, while the rhetoric of JUG was employed by them both, it was just that: no more than a rhetorical flourish. The ministers were agreed that, in Michael McGimpsey’s words, “the Programme was too long, basically undeliverable, and nobody had central management control over it. We were just hoping that each department could deliver this and that … no-one understood it, even in the Assembly, and the public just switched off. It should have been a simple statement of what we were trying to do: but we ended up with The Radio Times.”34 31 32 33

34

Robinson, interview. Trimble, interview. See Northern Ireland Assembly, Official Report for October 24, 2000 (Trimble) and November 13, 2000 (Mallon). McGimpsey, interview.

Consociational government

191

Séamus Mallon adopted a different metaphor to convey the same point: “The departments wrote the Bible when what we needed was the catechism. That was the mindset of the civil servants and the ministers were captured into silo-thinking.”35 Bríd Rogers concurred: “The Programme was a set of departmental wish lists, it just got bigger and bigger and I was as guilty as the next. There wasn’t even much discussion within the SDLP ministerial group about it. Everyone went in with their own thing: we didn’t discuss policy strategy.”36 If there was an ingrained habit of departmentalism among officials, it was in part acquired or reinforced during direct rule: but what is interesting is that just as the promotion of JUG requires dedicated, hands-on political leadership at the top to push that agenda – which was not evident in the OFMDFM – it also needs committed administrative leadership which, according to the ministers, was also absent. As Bríd Rogers observed: “They [senior officials] were here 30 years in charge and had their own little silos and loyalties. It was very difficult for them to change and they thought we wouldn’t be there for long, that’s how they viewed it. There was terrible turf war between and among civil servants to try to hold on to as much as they could for their departments and they were very defensive about their budgets.”37 It is, of course, something of an alibi or convenience for ministers to lay responsibility for the absence of joined-upness at the door of civil servants. However, the essential cause lay in the very design of the departments or, more specifically, in the provision for individual ministerial responsibility but not collective responsibility. Given that the First Minister and Deputy First Minister enjoyed patronage only over their respective party’s nominees for ministerial office, including the two junior ministers in the OFMDFM, they could not hire and fire the other ministers who held office via their own parties’ power of nomination. And, whereas the nominees for First Minister and Deputy First Minister had to secure endorsement in the Assembly by means of a cross-community vote, their Executive colleagues faced no such test. Once appointed, they remained in situ unless, like the DUP a party chose to rotate its ministers, or a minister stood down on grounds of either ill-health (as Sam Foster, the UUP’s original Environment Minister did), or a combination of poor health and endless frustration, as in Séamus Mallon’s case. There could not be a reshuffle as such since the coalition’s parties themselves held the sole authority to nominate ministers, which meant, among other things, that there were no means of disciplining ministers for failing to champion the cause of JUG, for instance, unless an Executive-forming party chose to do so. 35 36 37

Mallon, interview. Rogers, interview. Rogers, interview.

192

Rick Wilford

Executive programme funds While there were no effective negative sanctions, save for the blunt weapon of suspension of a party from the Executive – which required a cross-community vote in the Assembly – there were incentives available to promote JUG. The most obvious of these were the executive programme funds (EPFs). If the PfG was intended to be the glue holding the Executive together, the EPFs were designed as a lubricant, meant to grease the joints between and among the departments. The brainchild of Mark Durkan when Finance Minister, the EPFs were portrayed by Trimble as a key instrument “for developing cross-cutting policies” and by Mallon as “the strongest example of our commitment to innovate and break away from traditional departmental approaches.”38 Durkan, stung by the unerring departmentalism he encountered as Finance Minister, invented the EPFs as a means of “driving a wedge” into existing patterns of expenditure. The EPFs were designed to encourage joined-up bids from ministers who would then pool the resources, top-sliced from the budgetary allocations, to tackle cross-cutting issues: it was an explicit attempt to entrench JUG within the Executive. However the Finance Minister encountered “massive resistance” from his “colleagues” whose general attitude was “it’s our money anyway, we shouldn’t have to bid for it.”39 In short, it did not work because Durkan failed to enlist others in the cause of fighting departmentalist habits. While he envisaged a system of Executive subcommittees charged to sift, rank, allocate, and oversee the EPFs, none were created. Indeed, there was no Executive “system” as such, largely because of the ethos of mistrust that hung over it. It meant that everything was dealt with at the top table – from which the DUP’s ministers were absent. Even had they attended, they would not have proved any more receptive to the idea since they were deeply suspicious of the motives underlying the EPFs. Peter Robinson perceived them as a means of enabling Trimble and Mallon to “get their fingers into the DUP’s departments … it didn’t work, we just closed them out”: a classically silo-inspired remark.40 Gregory Campbell, who was rotated into Robinson’s post for a year or so, interpreted the EPFs as an attempt to ensnare the DUP: “We were concerned that it was an idea that would be used to instigate links with the Health and Education Departments, to promote cooperation with Sinn Féin: it wasn’t on.”41 In the event, while there was a rash of bids for the EPFs, they were, to employ Durkan’s phrase, “almost entirely mono-departmental.”42 Even in the limited number of cases where joint bids were submitted, their 38 39 40 41 42

Northern Ireland Assembly, Official Report, November 13, 2000. Durkan, interview. Robinson, interview. G. Campbell (2005) Interview with the author. Durkan, interview.

Consociational government

193

jointedness was more apparent than real. As Durkan put it: “They became like people signing one another’s sponsor sheets, just countersigning one another’s bids.”43 So, while there was an aspiration to promote JUG, the outcome was very different. Not only did the first, interrupted phase of devolution yield to “chopped-up government,” Northern Ireland also experienced gummed-up government, given the operational problems within the OFMDFM, themselves aggravated by personal antipathies, the absence of a strategic focus within the OFMDFM, the dearth of coalescent leadership, the mistrust that structured relationships between, particularly, the UUP and DUP, and the latter and Sinn Féin, and a civil service that in its upper reaches appears to have been at best uncommitted to JUG if not hostile towards to it. Equally, the absence of forethought in designing the Executive obstructed a more joined-up approach to governing. The priority attached to parity of ministerial numbers (though not esteem) marginalized any concern for engineering a more strategic design. Perhaps the most notable policy casualty of the pathologies pertaining to the grand coalition was inaction on community relations by the OFMDFM: it is difficult to imagine a more “wicked issue” in Northern Ireland or a more egregious policy failure.

Lessons learnt? Several years on from the demise of the first Executive much has changed. The IRA has decommissioned its arsenal, albeit in camera, mainstream republicans have endorsed the policing and criminal justice systems on each side of the border, the DUP and Sinn Féin have consolidated their electoral dominance and are now engaged in a loveless political cohabitation, and the Ulster Volunteer Force has placed its materiel “beyond reach” (whatever that means). In addition, some of the changes wrought at St Andrews represent an advance on some of the operating procedures of the Executive struck in 1998. For instance, there is a revised ministerial code now placed on a statutory basis, a new pledge of office, a readiness at least to contemplate the reduction in the number of devolved departments – a task delegated initially to a new standing committee in the Assembly, which is also charged to seek agreement on the modalities of the devolution of policing and criminal justice which was scheduled to occur in May 2008 but subsequently deferred to 2010 – and a preparedness to consider the reduction in the range of responsibilities borne by the OFMDFM. Both the latter and the possible reduction in the number of departments should, in theory, assist in the achievement of JUG. In short, there are a variety of reasons to be cheerful. However, there are also reasons to be cheerless. The electorates have pulled up their communal skirts even higher and retreated into their respective voting blocs. The self-regarding losers of the peace process, the unionists, have realigned behind the DUP not because of an accompanying conversion 43

Durkan, interview.

194

Rick Wilford

to its policies, but rather that it is the last thinkable redoubt against threats to the constitutional status quo. Sinn Féin’s acceptance that there is a political path to unification has not led to the abandonment of republican criminality, whether extortion, robbery, smuggling, or so-called punishment beatings and murder, including the savage killing of Paul Quinn. The need for Sinn Féin’s leadership to distance itself from such acts, and for the police and the Independent Monitoring Commission (IMC) to exonerate the IRA’s still extant army council from complicity in their commission, is compelling: it means that the stability of the political institutions is delicately poised in the hands of the IMC and the Police Service of Northern Ireland, who are the effective arbiters of the political process. There are now more so-called “peace walls” than in 1998, the most recent of which cuts across the playground of an integrated school in north Belfast, and there is a continuing low level of sectarian violence including attacks on Orange Order halls and Gaelic Athletic Association grounds.44 One can, of course, dismiss such a recital of ills as merely the curmudgeonly grousing of a disaffected anti-consociationalist stung by the restoration of devolution. Not so. My own, admittedly revised, position is that of an agnostic rather than an atheist, one struck to some extent by the artful revisionism of McGarry and O’Leary. If there is a box into which I fit it is that of liberal centripetalist integrationist, to coin an admittedly inelegant phrase. I am not opposed to the inclusion of any particular party or another in a governing coalition on the grounds of its past, present, or foreseeable future. I favour the construction of a coalition on an agreed policy platform in advance of Executive formation, of putting the horses before the policy cart, rather than providing for the admission of parties in the hope that they can cobble together an agreed agenda once in office. What though of the Executive’s performance since May 2007? Of course, not only is it operating within an altered state, but its procedures were amended at St Andrews, mostly at the insistence of the DUP. Thus, there has been a strengthening of the ministerial veto whereby if no consensus can be reached at the “cabinet” table any three ministers can require a cross-community vote within the Executive. Equally, the provision enabling 30 MLAs to refer an issue back to the Executive – a number that only the DUP acting alone can muster – like the enhanced veto, provides an additional set of brakes on the decision-making process, rather than a set of gears that can mesh together to drive it forward. While it is the case that the Executive has published its new (though delayed) PfG, a draft budget, a draft investment strategy, and its legislative programme, this has not been without controversy. Both the legislative programme and the draft PfG were subject to critical amendments tabled by the Alliance Party: no surprise there. What did 44

See, for instance, N. Jarman (2005) No Longer a Problem? Sectarian Violence in Northern Ireland, Belfast, Institute for Conflict Research; P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press.

Consociational government

195

occasion comment was that both amendments were supported in the division lobbies by the UUP and the SDLP, two of the four governing parties. In addition, a significant division emerged between the DUP (and more mutedly, Sinn Féin) on one side and the UUP and SDLP on the other over Margaret Ritchie’s decision (the SDLP’s Social Development Minister) to halt funding to the Conflict Transformation Initiative which had been established by the Northern Ireland Office as a means of weaning loyalist paramilitaries, specifically the Ulster Defence Association, away from its paramilitary and criminal activities. Peter Robinson, the DUP’s Finance Minister, accused Ritchie of breaching the ministerial Code and the Pledge of Office in the manner by which she arrived at the decision, accusations that she refuted, and was supported in so doing by the Employment and Learning Minister Sir Reg Empey (UUP). This was not the first time that Robinson had represented himself as the keeper of the Code, as well as the region’s purse. In May 2007 he accused three ministers – Margaret Ritchie, Martin McGuinness (Deputy First Minister), and Caitriona Ruane (Education) – of a similar breach of the Code when they voted in favour of a motion to introduce free personal care for the elderly, incidentally a policy that the DUP had proposed in the first Assembly. Peter Robinson’s actions are necessary, if only for the reason that he can demonstrate to the DUP’s electorate that under the revised St Andrews Agreement there are additional constraints that prevent ministers going on solo policy runs as had been the case, albeit on relatively few occasions, during the first mandate. In one sense, such difficulties as have been experienced thus far may be dismissed as the teething problems of an Executive that is still very much in its infancy and that, given time, will settle into a stable pattern and rhythm. Perhaps; but on the other hand, they may be construed as signs of a more chronic problem akin to a grumbling (political) appendix. That diagnosis is lent credibility because of the continuing chatter about the UUP and/or the SDLP electing to relinquish their ministerial seats and take up an opposition role in the chamber, which they are free to do. If they did choose to fall on their ministerial swords this would provide an acid test of the stability of the consociational model. Deprived of any leavening supplied by the UUP and the SDLP, the probability is that there would be a sharply divided, by no means joined-up, administration whereby, to paraphrase Edmund Burke, the Executive would become a mere congress of ethnic ambassadors.45 We may not need to wait that long to find out. 45

The original quotation, which is worth quoting in full, reads: “Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different and hostile interests, which interests each must maintain, as an agent and advocate, against other agents and advocates; but Parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the whole – where not local purposes, not local prejudices ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole” (original emphasis). See E. Burke, “Speech to the electors of Bristol,” in B. W. Hill (ed.) (1975) Edmund Burke: On Government, Politics and Society, Brighton, Harvester Press, p. 158.

9

In search of the consociational “spirit of accommodation” Jürg Steiner

Accommodative culture I pretty much agree with the analysis of John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary presented in Part I of this volume – as far as it goes. I miss, however, a systematic treatment of the culture variable, which is a prominent part of consociational theory. From its very beginning, the theory had both an institutional and a cultural part. In his The Politics of Accommodation (1968), Arend Lijphart spent an entire chapter on the cultural aspect of what he calls a “spirit of accommodation.” According to this concept, leaders “must be willing and capable of bridging the gaps between the mutually isolated blocs.”1 Whether leaders in deeply divided societies have the willingness and the capabilities to reach over to the other side is crucial for successful consociationalism. To have the right kind of power sharing institutions is a necessary condition for successful consociationalism but not a sufficient condition; one needs also the right kind of accommodative culture. This was the message of the original formulation of consociational theory in the 1960s. Northern Ireland is a good example for showing the importance of this double aspect of consociational theory. But before I address this, which is the main theme of this chapter, first some general comments on the empirical testability of McGarry and O’Leary’s position and how they view questions of stability, fairness, and democracy.

Testing revisionist consociationalism McGarry and O’Leary argue in the first chapter that the case of Northern Ireland necessitates adding three sets of explanatory variables to consociational theory. A first critique is that traditional consociational theory focuses too much on the divisions within a particular society, neglecting that some groups in a society may wish to join another nation. This crossnational dimension is said to be important for the understanding of the 1

A. Lijphart (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, chapter entitled “The Spirit of Accommodation,” p. 104.

The “spirit of accommodation”

197

conflict in Northern Ireland. According to McGarry and O’Leary, Northern Ireland must be understood as a binational place, where one side has British national identities and the other side Irish national identities. Irish nationalists are not interested in being integrated into Northern Irish society; they rather wish to be united with the Republic of Ireland. This argument is well developed by McGarry and O’Leary, and I have no problem with their line of argument. I wonder, however, how this aspect can be integrated into general consociational theory. Is Northern Ireland unique in this sense, or are there other comparable cases? My native Switzerland certainly does not belong in this category. Italian speakers do not wish to join Italy, neither French speakers France, nor German speakers Germany. How about Hungarians in Romania, Serbia, and Slovakia? There, we find some urge to unite with Hungary but this urge is much weaker than it is for Irish nationalists in Northern Ireland. With Kosovo having become independent, the Serb minority in Kosovo has a strong urge to join Serbia so that this would be a case quite comparable to Northern Ireland. Another comparable case could be Kurds in Turkey who wish to join Kurds outside Turkey, although Kurdistan is not an independent nation state like the Republic of Ireland. In the past, South Tyrol would have been quite comparable to Northern Ireland when this German speaking Italian region wanted to join Austria; but today the situation has been pacified thanks to much South Tyrol autonomy within the Italian state. What do these examples show? That there are not many cases really comparable to Northern Ireland in the binational aspect stressed by McGarry and O’Leary, so that it is not easy to test the hypotheses developed from Northern Ireland on a broad empirical basis. This does not speak, of course, against including this aspect for the specific analysis of Northern Ireland. The same problem arises for the two other aspects that McGarry and O’Leary add to consociational theory. One additional set of variables concerns external interventions. In consociational theory, such external interventions were not considered in a systematic way. McGarry and O’Leary argue convincingly that in the case of Northern Ireland external interventions were of great importance. They refer in particular to common interventions of London and Dublin, and in particular of the United States. They describe how President Bill Clinton visited Northern Ireland three times and gave Northern Ireland’s political leaders open access to the White House. George Mitchell, the former Senate majority leader, went many times to Northern Ireland to mediate between Irish nationalists and British unionists. Are there comparable cases for which the hypotheses concerning external interventions could be empirically tested? Bosnia-Herzegovina, Kosovo, and Iraq come to mind. But in each of these cases external interventions had a strong military component, while in Northern Ireland the crucial intervention of the United States had no military aspect, not even as a threat. Again, I do not argue that for an explanation of Northern Ireland external interventions should not be considered, but it is difficult to see how

198

Jürg Steiner

hypotheses could emerge from the Northern Irish case that can be tested with a sufficient number of comparable cases. Furthermore, McGarry and O’Leary include security aspects as still another set of variables to explain why power-sharing arrangements were much delayed after the Good Friday Agreement. These variables include (1) the design of the police and security forces; (2) the handling of paramilitary offenders; (3) demilitarization of both state and paramilitary forces; (4) the integration of former paramilitaries into the workforce; (5) transitional justice processes; (6) the return of exiles and the management of refugees; (7) new human-rights protection mechanisms; (8) economic reconstruction; and (9) provisions for monitoring ceasefires. This is a very long list of variables to be added to consociational theory. I agree with McGarry and O’Leary that all these security aspects need to be covered to get a compelling story of what happened with regard to power sharing in Northern Ireland. But if we add also the two other sets of variables proposed by McGarry and O’Leary we run into the problem of too many variables and too few cases. Consociational theory becomes too unwieldy to be empirically tested in a reliable and valid way. The more I think about the development of consociational theory since the 1960s with the addition of more and more cases and more and more variables, the less I see it to be feasible to build a general theory with much predictive power. Of course, one should attempt to generalize as much as possible, but there are severe limits to generalizations with regard to consociational theory. The individual cases of deeply divided societies often have very unique characteristics, with Northern Ireland as a case in point. What is more feasible and still very valuable is the development of a good checklist of variables, which allows us to write interesting case studies. From this angle, McGarry and O’Leary give us a rich narrative of a wide range of variables necessary to understand power sharing in Northern Ireland. Researchers of other deeply divided societies certainly can profit from this Northern Irish narrative, but most likely they will not be able to test the hypotheses developed by McGarry and O’Leary in a rigorous way with a large number of comparable cases.

Questions of stability, fairness, and democracy In the second part of their contribution, McGarry and O’Leary address the question of the consequences of power sharing in Northern Ireland. They look at the criteria of stability, fairness, and democracy. With regard to stability, they confront the critics who argue that power sharing has caused more social and political polarization and thus in the long run more instability. In my view, McGarry and O’Leary are able to counter this argument with good data. They acknowledge that the radical parties on both sides attract more voters, but they can show that these parties have become more moderate. Furthermore, they present impressive findings about the decreased level of violence in Northern Ireland. With regard to causality,

The “spirit of accommodation”

199

one may ask whether this increased stability is really a consequence of the establishment of power sharing, or whether stability would even be higher if a different route than power sharing had been pursued. Although it is always difficult to argue counter-factually, I agree with McGarry and O’Leary that power-sharing arrangements were better suited than a competitive majoritarian system to moderate the Irish nationalists and thus to contribute to more stability. Power sharing allowed Irish nationalists as a minority group to attain positions of power that they would not easily have attained in a competitive majoritarian system. And it is reasonable to assume that having some significant power made Irish nationalists less radical. With regard to fairness, McGarry and O’Leary have to confront the critics who say that power sharing discriminates against individuals who do not possess group identities, who are neither Irish nationalists nor British unionists. These critics refer to the rule that members of the Northern Irish parliament must designate themselves as “unionists,” “nationalists,” or “others.”2 This is the basis on which the positions of First Minister and Deputy First Minister are allocated. The remaining cabinet seats are then allocated according to party strength in parliament. McGarry and O’Leary defend themselves in saying that they are liberal rather than corporatist consociationalists. They agree with their critics that it is too rigid to allocate cabinet seats only to Irish nationalists and British unionists, and they point out that the Northern Irish power-sharing arrangements do not necessarily lead to such rigidity. If enough voters support other parties than unionists and nationalists, these other parties would also receive seats in the cabinet. On the basis of the Swiss experience, one can argue that more flexibility is a good thing. Currently, the Swiss executive council, the seven-member Federal Council, has five German speakers and two French speakers.3 Before a resignation in 2006, there were four German speakers and three French speakers. Even before, the composition was four German speakers, two French speakers, and one Italian speaker. This recent history shows that there is quite a lot of flexibility in how the seven seats are allocated among the three major language groups. There are only informal rules, no stipulations in the constitution nor a special law on how the Federal Council should be composed by language. Members of parliament also do not have to designate their language affiliation in order to determine how many seats in the Federal Council should be allocated to each language group. The allocation is proportional only in a rough way, which also allows taking account of situations where a candidate is truly bilingual, which occasionally happens. The absence of strict formal rules of how the Federal Council 2

3

See, for example, I. O’Flynn (2003) “The problem of recognising individual and national identities: A liberal critique of the Belfast Agreement,” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 6(3), 129–53; and R. Taylor (2006) “The Belfast Agreement and the politics of consociationalism: A critique,” The Political Quarterly 77(2), 217–26. J. Steiner and M. M. L. Crepaz (2007) European Democracies, 5th edn, New York, Longman, pp. 90–92.

200

Jürg Steiner

should be composed by language gives great flexibility to the appointment process. In line with the argument of McGarry and O’Leary, I agree that such flexibility would also be useful in Northern Ireland. With regard to the democratic quality of power sharing, McGarry and O’Leary have to defend themselves against the critique that this system lacks vigorous opposition. As a consequence, the critics say, there is no real accountability; if a government makes grave mistakes, it cannot be replaced by the opposition waiting in the wings.4 Somewhat lamely, McGarry and O’Leary counter this critique by writing that opposition may very well come from within the cabinet itself, from backbenchers and smaller parties. A more forceful defence would be to argue that power sharing should be supplemented with a strong referendum, as is the case in Switzerland.5 There, it is often necessary, in order for a referendum to pass, for it to gain not only a majority of the voters but also a majority of the cantons, a device to protect minorities. Such devices could also be implemented in Northern Ireland to protect minorities, in particular the minority of Irish nationalists. When the Good Friday Agreement was submitted to a referendum, the experience turned out to be good. Building on this experience, the use of the referendum should be expanded, and, with practice, the referendum could develop as a useful vehicle of opposition within the power-sharing arrangement. If one day the decision comes up as to whether Northern Ireland should be united with the Republic of Ireland, the Good Friday Agreement stipulates that this decision must be decided in a popular referendum. From this perspective, too, it would be a good thing if Northern Ireland would get more practise using referenda.

The “spirit of accommodation” After these critical but generally favourable comments on the analysis of McGarry and O’Leary, I now return to the main theme of this chapter: the neglect of the cultural aspect of how political actors speak with each other. As already stated, Lijphart coined for this cultural aspect the concept of a “spirit of accommodation.” This spirit implied that political actors were willing to listen to the arguments of the other side of a deeply divided society. Lijphart gave ample anecdotal evidence that such a spirit existed in The Netherlands in the 1960s when he wrote his widely cited book The Politics of Accommodation. When consociational scholars increased the number of cases of divided societies they studied,6 no serious effort was ever made to measure this cultural variable in a reliable and valid way. The concept was simply too vague and too amorphous and fell increasingly by the wayside as consociational scholars progressed in their work. This is also the 4

5 6

R. E. Germann (1994) Staatsreform. Der Uebergang zur Konkurrenzdemokratie, Bern, Haupt. Steiner and Crepaz, European Democracies, pp. 119–24. A. Lijphart (1984) Democracies: Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press.

The “spirit of accommodation”

201

case for the opening chapter of McGarry and O’Leary, where the concept of a spirit of accommodation does not appear at all. Why is the spirit of accommodation so important in consociational theory? The argument is that institutions of power sharing are a necessary but not sufficient condition to arrive at some level of democratic stability in deeply divided societies. It is, for example, a necessary condition that all important groups are represented in the cabinet. But if the representatives of the various groups are not willing to listen seriously to the arguments of the others, being together in the cabinet may even increase tensions. As Lijphart states, cabinet members must be willing to “bridge the gaps” in a true spirit of accommodation.7 Just take the example of Iraq, where the new constitution installed power-sharing institutions but where there is no spirit of accommodation allowing a dialogue among the various groups. The concept of a spirit of accommodation leads us in the right direction but, as already said above, it is too vague and amorphous to be useful for empirical analyses. There is, however, a new development in consociational literature replacing the concept of a spirit of accommodation with a more precise and theoretically firmly grounded concept, namely the concept of deliberation.8 Robert Goodin, one of the leading scholars in the deliberative field, is of the view that when it comes to “what counts as ‘good’ discourse and deliberation, there seems to be an impressive broad scholarly consensus.”9 So, what is exactly meant by deliberation and why is this concept preferable to the concept of a spirit of accommodation? It must be understood that the deliberative model as described in the political philosophy literature is meant as an “ideal type” in the sense of Max Weber; Jürgen Habermas recognizes that in political reality this ideal type is as rare as “islands in the ocean in everyday praxis.”10 For an empirical investigation, the research question must be how close a specific situation comes to the ideal type of deliberation. Thus, nobody would realistically expect that the negotiations leading to the Good Friday Agreement corresponded to the ideal type of deliberation. The meaningful empirical question is how far away these negotiations were from the ideal type of deliberation. Perhaps there was no deliberation at all, but perhaps there was some significant level of deliberation. McGarry and O’Leary do not address this question. It would have been helpful for the understanding of the causes of the Agreement if they had done so. Was the Good Friday Agreement the outcome of a pure power game of bargaining or were there some elements of deliberation?11 7 8

9 10

11

Lijphart, The Politics of Accommodation, p. 104. J. Steiner, A. Bächtiger, M. Spörndli, and M. R. Steenbergen (2004) Deliberative Politics in Action: Analyzing Parliamentary Debates, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. R. E. Goodin (2005) “Sequencing deliberative moments,” Acta Politica 40(2), 183. J. Habermas (1996) Die Einbeziehung des Anderen. Studien zur politischen Theorie, Frankfurt a.m., Suhrkamp, p. 323. A question also engaged by John Dryzek; see J. S. Dryzek (2000) Deliberative Democracy and Beyond: Liberals, Critics, Contestations, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 41.

202

Jürg Steiner

What, then, is meant by stating that deliberation must be seen as an ideal type? Six main characteristics can be presented. A first characteristic of the ideal type of deliberative politics is participation by all citizens at equal level and without constraints in a publicly open political process. Thereby, the political process is conceptualized in a very broad sense, encompassing not only formal political institutions but also the public sphere at large. Habermas hopes that deliberation in the public sphere at large should have an influence on elections, legislation, and administrative power since: “the flow of communication between public opinion-formation, institutionalized elections, and legislative decisions is meant to guarantee that influence and communicative power are transformed through legislation into administrative power.”12 In this way, citizens should be a strong countervailing force against the two traditional influences in politics: “money and administrative power.” Given the assumption that citizens have potentially great political influence, they should discuss political issues with neighbours, at the workplace, in leisure-time associations, and so on. In doing so, ordinary citizens are participants in a broad-based process of opinion and will formation. No one with the competency to speak and act should be excluded from the discourse. All have the same chances to question and to introduce any assertion and to express their attitudes, desires, and needs. No one may be prevented, by internal or external coercion, from expressing these rights; all have the right to question the assigned topic of conversation, and all have the right to initiate reflexive arguments about the very rules of the discourse procedures and the way in which they are applied and carried out. This first characteristic of the ideal type of deliberative politics illustrates well that reality will never correspond to the ideal type. There will always be some constraints limiting the full and equal participation of all citizens. In the real world, political deliberation can never be completely free of domination. It is always only a question of how close reality comes to the ideal type of deliberative politics. A second characteristic of the ideal type of deliberative politics is that everyone participating in a political discourse expresses his or her views in a truthful way. This criterion of truthfulness means that all participants are open about their true preferences and do not try to deceive and mislead others about their true intentions. Put in other terms, participants in the discourse really mean what they say. When they refer to particular values such as justice for all, they truly believe in these values and do not utter them merely for tactical reasons in order to strengthen an argument. Thus, talk can be taken at face value. Here again, reality will often not even come close to this ideal. A third characteristic of the ideal type of deliberative politics requires the logical justification of assertions and validity claims. That is, according to 12

J. Habermas (1996) Between Facts and Norms: Contributions to a Discourse Theory of Law and Democracy, Cambridge, MA, MIT Press, p. 299.

The “spirit of accommodation”

203

Habermas, assertions should be introduced and critically assessed through “the orderly exchange of information and reasons between parties.”13 The arguments must have intrinsic characteristics that make them compelling to others. The tighter the connection between premises and conclusions, the more coherent the justification is and the more useful it will be for deliberation. Participants must present their arguments in a logically coherent way so that the other participants can understand what the arguments are. If the participants in a political debate are inarticulate in the presentation of their arguments, nobody knows where everybody stands so that the merits of the various arguments cannot truly be debated. In this sense, logical coherence is the basis for true deliberation. Thus, only actors who can argue in a rational way are expected to participate in the ideal type of deliberation, which reveals a tension with the first criterion of the ideal type, namely participation of all. To overcome this tension, it would be necessary to take measures such as improved education so that all citizens are able to argue in a logical and rational way. Again, reality will never even come close to the ideal type. A fourth characteristic of the ideal type of deliberation is that the merits of the arguments should be expressed in terms of the common good. That is, there should be a sense of empathy, other directness, or solidarity that allows the participants to consider the well-being of others and of the community at large. This does not mean, however, that self-interest should be excluded as an argument. But someone using self-interest as an argument must demonstrate that his or her self-interest is compatible with the common good or even contributes to the common good. This fourth characteristic must be seen in connection with the second characteristic, namely that all participants express their arguments in a truthful way. This must also hold for arguments regarding the common good. In real political life, it happens often, of course, that someone expresses for strategic gains a selfish argument in terms of the common good. In the ideal type of deliberative politics such behaviour would never occur, which emphasizes once again that the ideal type is a construct far removed from ordinary politics. A fifth characteristic of the ideal type of deliberative politics is that the participants are willing to truly listen to the arguments of others and to treat them with genuine respect. This criterion necessitates empathy, the capacity and the willingness to put oneself in the shoes of others, and to consider a situation from their perspective. Of crucial importance in this regard are the capacity and the willingness to listen to others, which is easier said than done, since it is always difficult to imagine being in the situation of others. Each of us has his or her social location different from the locations of all others so that we can never fully understand the perspective of others. But we always should make an effort to do so in listening carefully to the arguments of others. 13

J. Habermas (1992) Faktizität und Geltung: Beiträge zur Diskursionstheorie des Rechts und des demokratischen Rechtsstaates, Frankfurt a.m., Suhrkamp, p. 370.

204

Jürg Steiner

Sixth, there should be a willingness on the part of all participants to yield to the force of the better argument, which means that the preferences of the participants should not be fixed but open to change. Habermas speaks in this context of “the unforced force of the better argument.”14 What is the better argument is not a priori given, but must be searched for in common deliberation. It is precisely through deliberation that the participants find out what counts as a good argument. This sixth feature is at the very core of the ideal type of deliberative politics. To yield to the better argument should not be mixed up with the quid pro quo occurring in ordinary strategic bargaining, based on the promises of rewards and the threats of punishments. In the ideal type of deliberative politics what counts is only the quality of the arguments. McGarry and O’Leary are not oblivious to the concept of deliberation, and they mention it twice in their chapter. They acknowledge that “sustained public deliberation” may lead to social transformation.15 In another part of their paper they argue that power sharing “may promote genuine democratic deliberation.”16 But they elaborate on neither of these two statements.

Future research It is certainly not easy to get an empirical hold on the concept of deliberation. Yet, it would be fascinating to know how exactly the key actors spoke with each other in the negotiations leading up to the Good Friday Agreement and when it was revised and re-implemented in May 2007. How much was pure strategic power bargaining with fixed preferences and how much was yielding to the force of the better argument? In-depth interviews may yield some insights, although researchers would have to rely much on their interpretation of what the interviewees say. The key actors would probably like to be seen as open minded and willing to yield to the force of the better argument. Thus, the interview answers could not be taken at face value but would have to be carefully interpreted in the respective contexts. Further interviews with outside observers such as good journalists would strengthen the interpretations about the levels of strategic bargaining versus deliberation.17 Looking to future developments in Northern Ireland, McGarry and O’Leary express the following optimistic view in the conclusion of their chapter: “We believe that if the current institutions endure, a common Northern Irish identity may come to be shared by most unionists and nationalists; but that will be the work of at least two decades, and it will be 14 15 16 17

Habermas, Die Einbeziehung des Anderen, p. 305. See p. 68. See p. 82. For further, broader, research questions, see D. F. Thompson (2008) “Deliberative democratic theory and empirical political science,” Annual Review of Political Science 11, 497–520.

The “spirit of accommodation”

205

consociation that eases the path to this shared identity.”18 Given the positive spin that McGarry and O’Leary give to the concept of deliberation in the two quotes given above, they include not only institutional but also cultural aspects of deliberation in how they define consociation. Indeed, there is a research project under way on deliberation in Northern Ireland in which John McGarry and Ian O’Flynn (also in this volume) participate. This Northern Irish project is part of a larger future project on experiments around deliberation in deeply divided societies.19 Besides Northern Ireland, focus will be directed to Bosnia-Herzegovina, Colombia, Cyprus, Kosovo, South Africa, Turkey, and the Ukraine. The research design here is to select a random sample of ordinary citizens from each subgroup of the deeply divided societies. For Northern Ireland this means having an equal number of Irish nationalists and British unionists in the experiments, four from each side. The topic submitted for group discussion is how to overcome the deep divisions in the respective societies. Discussions will be videotaped and then coded according to the level of deliberation; for this coding, we have developed a discourse quality index.20 Theoretically, we seek to investigate the causes and consequences of variation in levels of deliberation. In particular, we are interested in whether the level of deliberation in the experiments has an impact on such psychological factors as negative prejudices towards the other sides of deep societal divisions and how lasting such effects are. For Northern Ireland, as for the other cases included in our study, this research should allow us to get a handle on the causal dynamics of the cultural aspects of deliberation. Such research may very well have important policy implications. If we can establish, for example, that an increased level of deliberation reduces negative prejudices across deep social divisions, we may recommend a whole host of measures that increase levels of deliberation throughout society. In such light, it is clear that consociationalists, such as McGarry and O’Leary, should not just focus on the institutional aspects of consociationalism but should turn to the cultural aspects. To change culture is, of course, always more difficult than to change institutions. As the case of Northern Ireland shows, consociational institutions are a necessary but not a sufficient precondition for a well-functioning democracy. What is now needed is some level of deliberative culture in how political actors interact with each other across the deep societal cleavages.

18 19

20

See p. 83. The steering committee of the overall project consists of Marco R. Steenbergen, André Bächtiger, Michael Neblo, and Jürg Steiner (www.bids.unibe.ch). J. Steiner et al., Deliberative Politics in Action.

10 A culture of power sharing Michael Kerr

In operation, the Executive was by and large harmonious. The strains which developed in its final phase were due to conflicts of personality as much as of ideology. No one with inside experience would accept the argument that such a system is intrinsically unworkable. (Sir Kenneth Bloomfield, July 14, 19741)

Less than two months after the collapse of the 1974 Sunningdale Executive, its permanent secretary and Northern Ireland’s most influential civil servant of the period, Sir Kenneth Bloomfield, penned this personal reflection on the short-lived consociational experiment. The Executive fell in May 1974 after an alliance of anti-Sunningdale unionist politicians resorted to supporting an unconstitutional strike, which quickly brought Northern Ireland to a political and economic standstill. The sheer force of the Ulster Workers’ Council strike toppled Northern Ireland’s first power-sharing administration, but had this not occurred, the Executive would have faced serious difficulties concerning the ratification and implementation of the Sunningdale package. Over thirty years later, at the beginning of Northern Ireland’s third attempt to institutionalize power sharing between unionists, nationalists, and others, Bloomfield’s conclusion serves as a timely reminder that in societies deeply divided by ethno-national conflict, it is not the use of power sharing as a model for regulating political violence that is inherently problematic. For governments, policy makers, and academics alike, the great challenge is to construct institutional frameworks which address the constitutional issues that invariably lie at the kernel of ethno-national divisions, whilst maintaining a political process capable of providing the incentives and motivations to bring together all the major parties to the conflict. A “hard case” such as Northern Ireland – to borrow Lijphart’s phrase – clearly demonstrates this dynamic.2 The successful application of consociation in Northern Ireland owes a great deal to external intervening actors, as John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary 1

2

CENT/1/3/24, Constitutional Convention Discussion Paper (1974) “The Northern Ireland Executive: Some retrospective conclusions,” Belfast, Public Record Office of Northern Ireland. A. Lijphart (1975) “Review article. The Northern Ireland problem: Cases, theories, and solutions,” British Journal of Political Science 5(1), 96.

A culture of power sharing

207

have argued in Part I of this volume. Successive British and Irish governments have been instrumental in developing and maintaining the political, social, economic, military, and constitutional conditions that brought an end to a phase of one of the world’s most intractable ethnic conflicts. The United States, the European Union, and the good offices of an array of international mediators also significantly contributed to the creation of trust between the Northern Ireland parties and helped legitimize the political process. Negotiating the Belfast Agreement, the British and Irish governments acted as stanchions channelling the alternating currents of unionism and nationalism that had destabilized Northern Ireland for almost four decades. Despite these achievements, it remains uncertain as to whether the employment of consociational methods will eventually lead to the long-term resolution of ethno-national conflict in Northern Ireland. Political scientists can be fairly confident, however, that a steady institutional framework is now in place within which a culture of power sharing is being cultivated and nurtured, as has been the case in other pluralist democratic societies such as The Netherlands or Switzerland, and, equally, in less stable parts of the world, such as Lebanon. My critique of the model in question, namely that “consociational theorists and other commentators have underestimated the importance of external variables in making or breaking power-sharing agreements,”3 especially regarding the examples of Northern Ireland and Lebanon, has been addressed in depth by McGarry and O’Leary both in this volume and elsewhere.4 As the consociational experiences of Northern Ireland and Lebanon indicate, it is very difficult to imagine power sharing functioning in either society outside the rubric of some regional agreement and the positive support of external powers that have an interest in promoting this model. Consociation in pluri-national societies, such as these hard cases, remains dependant on external regulation, with little prospect of power sharing becoming selfsustaining in the short to medium term. Theoretical debate over whether consociation is the optimal method for stabilizing deeply divided societies, and Northern Ireland in particular, has long been polarized between those who advance top-down models, such as the application of power sharing, and those who favour more integrationist approaches to conflict regulation.5 Further colouring this debate is the fact 3

4

5

M. Kerr (2005) Imposing Power-Sharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, p. 2. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2006) “Consociational theory, Northern Ireland’s conflict, and its agreement. Part 1: What consociationalists can learn from Northern Ireland,” Government and Opposition 41(1), 48–54. See, for example, B. Barry (1975) “The consociational model and its dangers,” European Journal of Political Research 3(4), 393–412; P. Brass (1991) Ethnicity and Nationalism: Theory and Comparison, New Delhi, Sage; P. Dixon (2001) Northern Ireland: The Politics of War and Peace, Basingstoke, Palgrave; D. L. Horowitz (2001) “The Agreement: Clear, consociational and risky,” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 89–108;

208

Michael Kerr

that, since the end of the Cold War, power sharing has increasingly been used as a post-colonial tool for western intervention in the non-democratic world. Students new to Irish history and politics may be somewhat confused as to why academics have produced a book questioning whether the consociational political system in Northern Ireland is in fact regulating conflict, whether it is consociational at all, and what we should expect the short- to medium-term outcome of it to be. We should not be surprised, however, that this publication has an “end of history” feel to it; such is the importance of these academic deliberations over the Agreement to its contributors. The successful implementation of the Agreement should be seen as a pivotal juncture in the consociational debate over Northern Ireland, as most commentators now accept that it has worked. I do not intend to go over my previous contributions to this discussion, nor my criticisms of the integrationist approach to Northern Ireland’s conflict.6 I shall, however, address some recent comments made by those who do not accept that the Agreement is consociational and view it as having a detrimental effect on Northern Ireland, before turning to questions of what comparative lessons may be garnered from the Anglo-Irish experience.

Antagonism over the Agreement Paul Dixon has recently argued that the Belfast Agreement was, in fact, an integrationist settlement. In his view, the Agreement is not consociational and he categorizes those who champion power sharing as a means of reducing political violence and ethno-national division in Northern Ireland as “segregationists.” Dixon contends that “consociationalists are segregationists who support the Belfast Agreement because they believe that conflict is best managed through the segregation of communal groups and their consolidation into the pillars on which elites can build a settlement.”7 This is a dangerous argument to make, as the author accuses consociationalists of actually promoting a form of socio-political apartheid. Dixon’s accusation is both unfair and unsubstantiated. Consociationalists do not promote

6 7

R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World, pp. 36–52; and R. Wilson and R. Wilford (2003) “A route to stability,” Belfast, Democratic Dialogue, August, http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/dd/ papers/dd03agreview.pdf. For summaries and responses see, for example, A. Lijphart (1985) Power-Sharing in South Africa, Institute of International Studies, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, ch. 4; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Blackwell, pp. 338–44; and B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal and Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 3–43. Kerr, Imposing Power-Sharing, pp. 11–15. P. Dixon (2005) “Why the Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland is not consociational,” Political Quarterly 76(3), 357.

A culture of power sharing

209

“segregation” in divided societies. To knowledgeable readers his argument may appear little more than “nonsense upon stilts” but, nevertheless, it should not go unchallenged. Simply put, consociationalists are pragmatists who, in accepting existing divisions within ethnically divided societies, strive to regulate them through complex constitutional engineering. They do not create these divisions, nor do they expect them to either vanish or diminish organically in the short to medium term solely as a consequence of integrationist or consociational programmes. Conversely, they harbour realistic hopes that in time these divisions can be managed through power-sharing agreements that may lead to the eventual resolution of the ethno-national conflict. In Dixon’s attempt to diminish the importance of consociational thinking on the outcome of Northern Ireland’s recent political process, he concludes that there is little evidence to suggest that any of those British or Irish politicians who negotiated the Agreement “have been particularly influenced by the segregationism and elitism of consociationalism as opposed to other variants of power sharing, such as integrationism.”8 In one sense, Dixon is correct. The negotiators of the Agreement were no more influenced by the idea of a segregationist agreement than an integrationist one. The Agreement was a customized consociational design, tailored specifically for Northern Ireland by the British and Irish governments, with input from the majority of Northern Ireland’s representatives and experts, and endorsed through separate referenda by a majority of the population north and south of the border.9 It built on the institutional foundations put in place through agreements reached at Sunningdale in December 1973 and a political process which developed incrementally between the British and Irish governments following the Anglo-Irish Agreement in 1985.10 The Agreement was neither “segregationist” nor “integrationist,” as Dixon frames it, nor was it a victory for the proponents of “segregation” or “integration.” This retrospective attempt to twist the debate over the use of consociation in Northern Ireland, or elsewhere for that matter, into two opposing camps – one comprising pro-powersharing segregationists and the other pro-power-sharing integrationists – is politically and academically divisive and intellectually redundant. The reintroduction of consociation in Northern Ireland has not frozen or fossilized unionist and nationalist identities.11 The institutional framework set up under the Agreement recognized these existing identities and sought to regulate them within a democratic political system. Consociationalists abhor segregationism (which should not be confused with segmental autonomy) and apartheid, but do accept the reality of existing national identities and an inherent desire within both unionist and nationalist communities to protect their own culture and determine their own political future. This is a 8 9 10 11

Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 361. B. O’Leary (1999) “The nature of the British-Irish Agreement,” New Left Review 233, 66–96. Kerr, Imposing Power-Sharing, chs 2–4. Taylor, “Consociation or social transformation?” pp. 36–52.

210

Michael Kerr

starting point for consociationalists in their approach to conflict regulation in Northern Ireland. They accept its ethno-national parameters in much the same way as the Alliance Party, for example, accepted the political reality that Northern Ireland was constitutionally a part of the United Kingdom, or Liam Cosgrave’s Fine Gael–Labour coalition government, its de facto constitutional status in the Sunningdale communique of 1973.12 Such recognition does not mean that all Alliance Party members are unionists, or that the Irish government supported partition, or that consociationalists, for that matter, are segregationists, unionists, or partitionists. It is also incorrect to argue, as Dixon inadvertently does, that politicians and policy makers involved in addressing Northern Ireland’s political dilemmas were not influenced by consociational thinking.13 Before the imposition of direct rule in March 1972, a British Foreign Office official was seconded to the Home Office specifically to examine alternative forms of government that might facilitate some form of compromise between Northern Ireland’s divided communities. Constitutional borrowing from Lebanon’s “entrenched government,” as Brian Faulkner viewed it,14 was one consequence of this exercise.15 Such thinking heavily influenced the efforts of Northern Ireland’s first Secretary of State, William Whitelaw, in conducting his mission to “break the mould” of Northern Ireland’s party system through the promotion of the moderate Sunningdale coalition comprising unionists (Faulkner’s “pledged” Official Unionists), constitutional nationalists (the Social Democratic and Labour Party), and others (the Alliance Party).16 British and Irish officials drew from existing examples of consociational government and a number of Howard Smith’s UK representatives operating from Laneside, Cultra, who had also previously worked in Lebanon.17 Furthermore, in 1975 the British government brought the academic expertise of Professors Richard Rose and Bernard Crick to advise the Northern Ireland Office and all the parties to the Northern Ireland Convention on what different constitutional possibilities were open to Northern Ireland,18 from independence to voluntary coalition, and what the consequences of adopting them might be.19 Many of Northern Ireland’s leading politicians 12 13 14 15

16 17

18

19

The Sunningdale Communique (1973), London, HMSO. Dixon, “Why the Good Friday Agreement,” p. 361. B. Faulkner (1978) Memoirs of a Statesman, London, Weidenfield and Nicolson, p. 182. PREM15/486, “Meetings between the Prime Minister and Mr. Lynch,” Doc. 14, September 3, 1971, Kew, UK National Archives; Interview with Kelvin White (Foreign Office), Didcot, August 13, 2007. W. Whitelaw (1989) The Whitelaw Memoirs, London, Aurum Press, p. 114. Sunday Tribune, “Thirty year echo as tribunal evidence mirrors current developments,” June 2, 2002; Interview with Robert Ramsey (Principal Private Secretary to Brian Faulkner), Cultra, March 6, 2008. Many academics, officials, and commentators were influenced by Richard Rose’s now classic (1971) book on Northern Ireland, Governing without Consensus, London, Faber. CONV1/2 “Meeting between Maurice Hayes and Professor Crick,” December 30, 1975; see R. Rose (1976) Northern Ireland: A Time of Choice, London, Macmillan.

A culture of power sharing

211

were also cognisant of how different power-sharing systems worked in other divided societies. During talks designed to keep alive the concept of a voluntary coalition in 1975, Vanguard Party leaders William Craig and David Trimble envisaged the interests of the minority community being safeguarded through a detailed power-sharing agreement to be worked out in the “Belgian fashion.”20 This, naturally, does not mean that they were all dyed-in-the-wool consociationalists – we know from the outcome of Sunningdale and the Convention that they were not – but to argue that they were not influenced by the model is simply incorrect. Officials such as Bloomfield and Edward Heath’s Permanent Private Secretary Lord Armstrong were instrumental in convincing their political masters that power sharing was the most realistic means of both reforming Northern Ireland’s political system and managing its deep political divisions.21 Furthermore, to assume that politicians such as Brian Faulkner, Garret FitzGerald, John Hume, or William Whitelaw, not to mention their advisers, were not influenced by, or aware of, consociational thinking grossly underestimates the seriousness with which they engaged in the Sunningdale venture.22 As McGarry and O’Leary highlight,23 those promoting power sharing do not have to define themselves academically as consociationalists to consciously or otherwise support its ideals. Former Irish Taoiseach Garret FitzGerald’s oft-quoted remark that he could see perfectly well how a policy worked in practice, but was at a complete loss as to how it might work in theory, illustrates this point (or so the story goes).24

“Hardliners” versus “soft hardliners” The irony of the Belfast Agreement’s first implementation phase was that Northern Ireland benefited from its incremental political, economic, and social effects despite, more often than not, the suspension of its power-sharing institutions. Increasing socio-economic stability, in the marked absence of political stability, seemed to indicate both a growing acceptance in the public mind towards the idea of sharing Northern Ireland and a developing political culture of power sharing, which had its origins in the Sunningdale Executive. Some commentators, however, contest the view that the Agreement has been working since the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and Sinn Féin reached accord at St Andrews in October 2006. Ruth Dudley Edwards labelled this détente a pact based on “splitting power” rather than 20

21

22 23 24

CENT1/4/33, “Meeting between Secretary of State and Vanguard Party,” November 18, 1975, Belfast, Public Record Office of Northern Ireland. This is a view held by many Irish officials from the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA) and the Department of the Taoiseach. Interview with Seán Donlon (DFA), Limerick, September 25, 2007. Interview with Noel Dorr (DFA), Dublin, July 12, 2007. See p. 23. Interview with John McCoulgn (Department of the Taoiseach), Dublin, August 9, 2007.

212

Michael Kerr

“sharing it.”25 Others have argued that power sharing could not work following the respective election victories of the DUP and Sinn Féin in 2005 and 2007.26 The moderate centre-ground parties predicted this triumph would cause the “Balkanisation”27 and “Bantu” style division of Northern Ireland.28 With hindsight, some of these remarks and other criticisms addressed at length by McGarry and O’Leary in their opening chapter appear unduly pessimistic. Understandably, many academics, politicians, and commentators found it difficult to accept that many of the “hard-line” antagonists, who prolonged and intensified Northern Ireland’s conflict, often by means of undermining those who took political risks to try to end it, look set to comfortably inherit the peace. There remains a residue of anti-Agreement unionists and republicans who reject the Agreement on political, ideological, and religious grounds but their potential impact is limited. For example, in September 2007, Paisley indicated that he would not be standing for re-election as moderator of his own Free Presbyterian Church,29 following an internal split over his decision to enter government with Sinn Féin. This is a significant point, as it was partly the fear of such a religious fissure that prevented him from accepting the concept of power sharing at a much earlier date. Perhaps the most surprising aspect of the Paisley–McGuinness partnership (dubbed the “Chuckle Brothers” by some sections of the media), was the warmth and good grace with which they presented the new DUP–Sinn Féin agenda on taking office. Of Northern Ireland’s two previous power-sharing governments, which were dominated by “soft hardliners” such as Faulkner, Trimble, Hume, and Séamus Mallon, only the 1974 Executive operated effectively as a governing coalition. The executives headed by Trimble and SDLP Deputy First Ministers, Séamus Mallon and Mark Durkan, appeared fractious, with personal relations between Trimble and Mallon particularly sour. Key decision making during that period was conducted via No. 10 Downing Street, rather than “Room 21” at Stormont, where the Executive sat. This was something that deeply frustrated Mallon.30 How politics is presented and choreographed can have a deep impact on public confidence in power-sharing governments. Despite the slick public-relations front, commentators should not be particularly surprised that the DUP and Sinn Féin found accord in 2007. The IRA’s willingness to incrementally abandon violence and make the transition 25

26

27 28

29 30

R. Dudley Edwards, “A historic day – but for all the wrong reasons,” Daily Telegraph, March 27, 2007. K. Myers, “This latest Northern Ireland deferral is part of the dance of deception,” Irish Independent, March 27, 2007. S. Mallon, “Mallon warns of ‘Balkanised’ NI,” Irish News, April 27, 2005. Sir Reg Empey, “Parades issue still a ‘loose cannon,’” Irish News, July 9, 2005. See also M. Kerr (2005) Transforming Unionism: David Trimble and the 2005 General Election, Dublin, Irish Academic Press. “Dr Paisley to stand down as Moderator,” Belfast Newsletter, September 8, 2007. M. Purdy (2005) Room 21: Behind Closed Doors, Belfast, Brehon Press.

A culture of power sharing

213

to constitutional politics became apparent when the Agreement provided republicans with access to all the levers of power in Northern Ireland.31 For the DUP’s part, “the failure of anti-Agreement unionism” can be traced to its lacklustre campaign against the Belfast Agreement in 1998, the constitutional victories it delivered for unionism, and the impact silent paramilitary guns had on the public’s willingness to accept and support a settlement. In comparison to the distance Prime Minister Harold Wilson put between his Labour administration and the Sunningdale Executive after winning the February 1974 general election,32 British and Irish premiers Tony Blair and Bertie Ahern brought the full resources of their respective states to reselling the power-sharing model, something which effectively drowned out the loudspeaker opposition that had undermined so many previous political initiatives.33 In April 1998, Trimble secured the constitutional imperatives that had eluded Faulkner in his efforts to sell the Sunningdale package and stall its implementation in early 1974. Blair and Ahern both headed powerful domestic governments and enjoyed bipartisan support in their respective parliaments for their efforts to restore devolved government to Northern Ireland. In contrast, the absence of domestic stability seriously diminished the prospects of Heath and Cosgrave successfully implementing Sunningdale prior to Wilson’s untimely victory. The DUP’s subsequent failure to politically hobble the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) during the 2001 Westminster general election and, in effect, derail the Agreement itself, provoked a serious reassessment of their policy towards power sharing.34 Whilst the internally haemorrhaging UUP lost five and gained two seats in that election, Trimble did not view the overall result as a “huge setback” in terms of the political process.35 His pro-Agreement candidate in North Down, Sylvia Hermon, defeated Paisley’s main anti-Agreement unionist rival, United Kingdom Unionist Party leader, Robert McCartney. This helped pave the way for a future DUP policy shift towards the UUP’s position on sharing power with Sinn Féin. Six years later, the 2007 Assembly election saw the completion of this transformation within unionism, as McCartney lost his remaining seat and promptly retired from politics. The total combined anti-Agreement republican and unionist vote stood at just 3.4 per cent, leaving the stage clear for the DUP and Sinn Féin to enter government in respective positions of considerable electoral security.36 31 32

33 34 35 36

Interview with Sinn Féin negotiator Jim Gibney, Belfast, April 11, 2001. B. Donoughue (1987) Prime Minister: The Conduct of Policy under Harold Wilson and James Callaghan, London, Cape; B. Donoughue (2002) The Heat of the Kitchen, London, Politico’s. Kerr, Imposing Power-Sharing, pp. 100–101. Interview with senior DUP advisor, Stormont, April 4, 2007. Interview with Lord Trimble, Westminster, June 8, 2005. All Republican Sinn Féin candidates plus Peggy O’Hara, Davy Hyland, Martin Cunningham, received 1.2 per cent and UKUP, Willie Frazer, and anti-agreement candidate Victor Christie, received 2.2 per cent of the vote.

214

Michael Kerr

Aside from this debate, McGarry and O’Leary convincingly argue that the Agreement has ended widespread political violence in Northern Ireland for the foreseeable future. One interesting trend, which reinforces this view, is that for unionist and nationalist converts to power sharing, there was no easy way back, having conceded this principle. In 1975, having publicly refused to countenance any form of voluntary coalition with the SDLP at the top tier of government, Paisley reminded Northern Irish civil servants that the “history of Ulster is littered with the discarded leaders of unionism,” who contemplated exactly what they were proposing.37 So there is no direction home for the DUP, or the republicans they decided to share power with, to the sanctity of the ideologically sacrosanct positions each previously held regarding Northern Ireland’s place within the UK and how it should be governed. Ironically, the spirit with which the DUP and Sinn Féin embraced power sharing at Stormont has, thus far, created a more united Ireland and a Northern Ireland more at peace with itself within the UK than has existed at any time since partition. It was this spirit of cordial working relations that saw trust develop between some unionist and nationalist ministers in the Sunningdale Executive. Thirty-four years later, Northern Ireland remains a place apart, and there will no doubt be serious difficulties ahead for any DUP–Sinn Féin-led government, but it is a place that can now truly be described as having a history of inter-communal power sharing. Perhaps then, it is necessary for hardliners to consolidate constitutional settlements in deeply divided societies, as soft hardliners seem inherently susceptible to being outflanked by their intra-elite rivals and, equally, abandoned by their external patrons at crucial junctures of political processes. Reinforcing that view is the fact that Northern Ireland’s unionist and nationalist soft hardliners only felt secure in publicly joining forces against the DUP–Sinn Féin alliance – with SDLP minister Margaret Ritchie addressing the UUP’s annual conference in 2007 – after they had entered government together. So what might a history of power sharing mean for the future of Northern Ireland? On one hand, almost no republicans still expect to achieve a united Ireland by force of arms and, on the other, almost no unionists expect to govern Northern Ireland through the exclusion of those who aspire to establish a united Ireland by purely constitutional means. By engaging in power sharing, the DUP and Sinn Féin have, at the same time, both dramatically reduced the prospect of a return to widespread political violence and transformed the parameters of the conflict by moving onto the political terrain of their traditionally more moderate intra-elite rivals. The image of the DUP and Sinn Féin as Northern Ireland’s hardliners has not altogether changed. However, this facade disguises the fundamental ideological volte-face each party has taken. Their respective victories in the 2007 Assembly elections does not truly represent Northern Ireland going to the 37

CONV1/2, “Note of conversation between Maurice Hayes and Ian Paisley,” September 11, 1975, Belfast, Public Record Office of Northern Ireland.

A culture of power sharing

215

extremes in electoral terms. Rather, this result should be seen as a majority of both communities opting for the lowest political common denominator available to them. By voting in this fashion, unionists and nationalists sought to safeguard their interests following a tumultuous transitional phase during which the two governments undertook their first efforts to implement the Agreement. Just as ancient rulers had their food tasted for poison before eating it themselves, a majority of voters bestowed legitimacy upon their most obdurate political representatives, ahead of Northern Ireland’s third power-sharing venture. On the unionist side, voters clearly rejected the uncertain nuances of Trimble’s Belfast Agreement for the Manichaean assurances of Paisley’s “fair deal.”38 On the nationalist side, Sinn Féin maximized political gains from the long drawn-out debacle over paramilitary decommissioning and the symbolic victories the Agreement afforded republicans on sensitive issues such as policing reform, prisoners, and demilitarization.39

A legacy of intervention There is of course nothing to prevent integrationists from taking full advantage of the anaesthetic effects that consociation and Northern Ireland’s relative insulation from negative external variables has had on its socio-political divisions. Political scientists may also wish to focus their attention on questions concerning the application of consociation in Northern Ireland and how it may be improved over time. What should consociation lead to in the long term? If the external variables remain static, does this mean that we can expect consociation to permanently resolve Northern Ireland’s conflict over time? What lessons can policy makers learn from this British–Irish experience? What aspects of this process are applicable to other ethnic conflicts and which are not? The question “What happens next?” is clearly an important one. What follows the development of a culture of power sharing in a deeply divided society is a question which must be seriously considered by specialists in this field. In Lebanon, for example, a society considerably more ethnically and religiously fragmented than Northern Ireland and, more often than not, lacking the support of benevolent regional patrons for its independent power-sharing governments, a history and culture of managing inter-confessional competition within a rigid power-sharing formula has seen its politicians repeatedly return to the consociational model. Lebanon has shown us that a culture of power sharing is of great consequence to successful ethnic conflict regulation. 38 39

DUP “Fair Deal Manifesto 2003: It’s Time for a Fair Deal,” www.dup2win.com M. Kerr (2008) “Internationalising the arms issue: The politics of decommissioning in Northern Ireland and Lebanon,” in A. Edwards and S. Bloomer (eds) Transforming the Peace Process in Northern Ireland: From Terrorism to Democratic Politics, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, pp. 212–28.

216

Michael Kerr

Lebanon is much less fortunate than Northern Ireland in many respects. Its proximity to non-democratic regimes has produced long-term destabilizing external pressures. Israel is its closest democratic neighbour and Syria, until the recent interventions of the US and Iran, its most influential external power broker. The question of how the Lebanese state might become the Switzerland of the Middle East and remain neutral from regional conflict has been at the hub of its national debate since independence was gained in 1943. Many commentators lament Lebanon’s inability to politically cocoon itself from the negative knock-on effects of the Cold War, the Arab–Israeli conflict, inter-Arab conflicts, and the post-Cold War struggle for the Middle East. In respect to the consociational debate, James Anderson suggests that it may not in fact be “good fences” that make good neighbours, but perhaps actually the neighbours themselves.40 The question here seems to be whether a degree of political stability within a particular region can effectively force reason and responsibility upon the state actors within it. For Lebanon, having had at best “weak fences,” with which to protect a Christian–Muslim national pact premised on foreign policy neutrality and, at worst, predatory neighbours intent on manipulating it, the difficulty in evaluating consociation as both a means of government and ethnic conflict regulation is apparent. Lebanon has always had external political referees, which its communities defer to for arbitration over internal and external disputes – such is the weakness of the state. The Lebanese have been reliant on British, French, Egyptian, Iranian, Ottoman, Saudi, US, and Syrian intervention to regulate their national pacts. Conversely, power-sharing governments in Lebanon have been, at times, controlled or torn apart by the actions of various Arab states, Iran, Israel, Palestinian nationalists, the Soviet Union, and the US. At the time of writing, in the vacuum created by Syria’s 2005 military retreat, the Lebanese find themselves again divided between two external camps, in which each champion totally contradictory visions of what form a future Lebanon might take. The unfortunate experiences of the Lebanese should provide sound foundations for consociationalists to be optimistic about the future of Northern Ireland. The six counties of Ulster under discussion in this volume have long since appeared an outlier region in an Anglo-Irish archipelago, where the Republic of Ireland appears confident and comfortable alongside its larger and more powerful EU partner, the UK. Northern Ireland’s place within this intergovernmental framework seems increasingly irregular, as the AngloIrish relationship, which developed out of the joint British–Irish application to join the European Community following the Anglo-Irish Free Trade Area Agreement of 1965, today appears almost “special.” 40

J. Anderson (2005) “From ethno-national border conflicts to border-crossing resolutions? The Irish experience to date,” conference paper, Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, Sarajevo.

A culture of power sharing

217

On the question of “what happens next,” McGarry and O’Leary argue that it is best to leave consociations to “decay organically” and to “let the people change consociations within their own frames and rules.”41 The then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Peter Hain, expressed similar aspirations after the historic meeting between Gerry Adams and Ian Paisley on March 26, 2007. Hain said that if the DUP and Sinn Féin found a way of agreeing, then they would be able to “lock in their own form of power-sharing government rather than me, as past governments have done, imposing something.”42 Given Northern Ireland’s favourable external environment, there is cause for consociationalists to be optimistic about the future development of flexible power-sharing arrangements and Northern Ireland’s Assembly parties being confident enough to make incremental changes, which might signify a move from a phase of conflict regulation to one of conflict resolution. This, if it proves at all possible, remains a distant prospect. Nevertheless, it is a goal worth working towards and, given Northern Ireland’s legacy of power sharing, it is perhaps not such an unrealistic long-term aspiration, as most commentators had previously thought. The “hard case” that Northern Ireland undoubtedly represents is now being internationally lauded as a “best practise case” in conflict regulation. Of course, this merely represents a case of “best practise” that is firmly situated in the democratic “first world,” where there are relatively few remaining conflicts of this nature. A word of warning is required here for those who hope that Northern Ireland’s success may be easily replicated in other deeply divided societies. These achievements were, to some extent, a consequence of failed attempts by unionists and republicans to enforce their own solutions following the prorogation of Stormont in 1972. Republicans and unionists, for different reasons, hoped the British government could be pressured into retreating from Northern Ireland, but their mutually reinforcing intransigent positions actually forced the British government to face up to its long-term responsibilities there. The IRA sought to force a British withdrawal and the United Ulster Unionist Council a return to majority unionist rule. The British government had to take political and administrative responsibility for almost all aspects of Northern Ireland’s affairs, to ensure militarily that the IRA could not achieve its goals through violence and terrorism, and to create the political, constitutional, and social conditions, in tandem with the Irish government, that were necessary to deliver a detailed and complex consociational formula that built on Sunningdale and excluded majority rule. The Sunningdale experiment was the first indication that the two governments could regulate the Northern Ireland conflict together. However, Labour governments after February 1974 failed to build on the Heath–Whitelaw approach to regulating political violence through 41 42

See p. 69. Statement by Peter Hain to the BBC, March 26, 2007; see Political Developments in Northern Ireland since 2007, London, HMSO.

218

Michael Kerr

consociational government. Consequently, Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson and Secretary of State Merlyn Rees both missed opportunities to develop the power-sharing ideal,43 which by then had gained credence amongst many mainstream unionist and nationalist politicians. O’Leary highlights that, in the 1970s, many commentators viewed Northern Ireland’s conflict as an insoluble problem caused by some primordial dysfunctions, which marked its throwback status on the fringes of developed European society. Northern Ireland became an embarrassing political anomaly on an otherwise relatively tranquil “western front.” It generally came as a surprise that the outbreak of political violence in Northern Ireland turned out to be a portent for “other late-twentieth century and contemporary conflicts” that emerged as the Cold War ended.44 Consociation in Northern Ireland should not, therefore, be viewed by policy makers as an easily adoptable panacea for ethnic conflict in deeply divided societies. The ill-conceived US–UK invasion of Iraq stands as a recent case in point. Having created a conflict with broad international dimensions, which albeit existed on some levels prior to the 2003 invasion, the domestically driven requirement for the coalition powers to place time limits on successfully creating the political, social, and international conditions for troop withdrawals illustrates the limitations of this interventionist approach to conflict regulation. In Northern Ireland, the British government wore the IRA into a military stalemate and, at the same time, helped create a political breathing space – with the Irish and US governments – for Sinn Féin to grow into. To successfully impose power sharing in Iraq, for example, the US government would need to illustrate a similar long-term interest in regulating ethnic conflict there. One of the major problems with the consociational debate regarding Northern Ireland is that politicians, academics, and journalists alike very often expect results overnight or within unrealistic time frames. The fact remains that it took the British and Irish governments over two decades to return to the Sunningdale formula, and a further decade attempting to implement the Agreement, before power sharing was publicly accepted and supported by all of Northern Ireland’s main political parties. The DUP withheld its public endorsement of the Agreement until practically all the symbolic and politically controversial aspects of reaching a settlement with nationalism had been resolved. When Paisley finally shared office and political power with McGuinness, a culture of power sharing, which had hitherto been lacking, had developed between most of the Northern Ireland parties. 43

44

B. O’Leary (2004) “The Labour Government and Northern Ireland 1974–79,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 194–216. B. O’Leary (2005) “The realism of power-sharing,” Foreword to Kerr, Imposing PowerSharing, p. xvii.

A culture of power sharing

219

“No victor, no vanquished” The consociational model has provided the institutional framework within which a culture of power sharing can be nurtured and which enables unionists, nationalists, and others to peaceably inhabit the same contested space without recourse to political violence. The Belfast Agreement addressed the outstanding constitutional issues between the UK and the Republic of Ireland and preserved the opposing national aspirations of their unionist and nationalist communities. If these can be regulated successfully for a number of years with a turnover of successive Northern Irish governments, dominated by different parties, and supported internationally through strong central governments in London and Dublin, there may be good cause for optimism regarding the Agreement’s long-term chance of success. Thomas Hobbes left political scientists with the stark warning that strong centralized power was required to keep society together and avoid the evil of discord and civil war.45 If we are to apply the same realism to ethnic conflict regulation, for consociation to successfully manage deeply fractured societies such as Bosnia-Herzegovina, Iraq, Lebanon, or Northern Ireland in the long term, then the existence of strong or balanced external powers promoting power sharing and maintaining a stable political environment remain crucial. The key to the Agreement’s success was the development of a unity of purpose in the two governments’ approach to Northern Ireland,46 which necessarily preceded accord between its political parties. What many of those who argue that the Agreement entrenched historic antagonisms fail to grasp, is that without this exogenous Anglo-Irish framework, Northern Ireland might well have experienced a civil war on a par with contemporary ethnic conflicts in the non-democratic world, which occurred towards the end of the twentieth century. Previous civil wars that destroyed Lebanon and Algeria or those currently ongoing in places such as Afghanistan and Iraq, took place outside the canapé of a democratic regional environment. In the Middle East, for example, competition for influence between rival states and the pursuit of selfish strategic and economic interests through weak divided societies is the norm. The consequences of such predatory intervention have often proved catastrophic for those societies. Northern Ireland has been extremely fortunate in being an international “backwater in strategic terms,”47 as Adrian Guelke put it. It is also fortunate that the two governments developed a mutual and self-reinforcing interest in regulating its conflict above and beyond their own strategic and economic interests there. Winston Churchill once said of democracy that no one should pretend that it is “perfect or all-wise,” and that some do in fact view it as the worst form of government, that is, except for all those other forms that have been 45 46 47

T. Hobbes (1996) Leviathan, ed. R. Tuck, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Kerr, Imposing Power-Sharing, pp. 101–104. A. Guelke (1988) Northern Ireland: The International Perspective, New York, St Martins Press, p. 195.

220

Michael Kerr

tried from time to time.48 Consociationalists hold similar realist sentiments with regards to power sharing in Northern Ireland. It is an imperfect system that has clear drawbacks and limitations but it is the system that has come to be seen by the two governments, a majority of the Northern Ireland parties, and a majority of the people as the least unattractive realistic model for regulating the conflicting national aspirations of unionists and nationalists. Many commentators have viewed consociational government as the wrong formula or one of the worst options available to Northern Ireland. This is understandable given the difficulties that imposing power sharing entails. However, as Faulkner lamented shortly after the fall of the Sunningdale Executive, in Irish politics “it is better to do the wrong thing than to do nothing at all.”49 In the late 1980s, the SDLP’s Sean Farren famously asked David Trimble during a seminar in Duisburg: “What do you want for your people?” Trimble’s characteristic response was simple and curt: “To be left alone.”50 At the time of writing, consociation is successfully allowing unionists and nationalists to be apart yet, at the same time, enabling them to peaceably coexist in the confidence that sharing Northern Ireland within the Agreement’s parameters will not result in the triumph of one culture over the other. In that sense, Northern Ireland’s latest consociational agreement is premised upon the old Lebanese maxim of “no victor, no vanquished.” We may be hopeful then, that through this process a new shared, syncretistic identity may be fostered through the culture of power sharing, which is slowly eroding the older Northern Irish traditions of division and mistrust.

48

49 50

The Official Report, House of Commons (5th Series), November 11, 1947, vol. 444, cc. 206–207. Faulkner, Memoirs of a Statesman, p. ix. D. Goodson (2004) Himself Alone: David Trimble and the Ordeal of Unionism, London, HarperCollins, p. 807.

11 From consociationalism to interculturalism Robin Wilson

Introduction This chapter contends that it is time to break with the consociational paradigm. I argue that consociationalism has serious normative drawbacks, that its philosophical foundations have been severely undermined, and that its theoretical coherence and concrete instantiation have become weak. Moreover, despite its modifications by John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, the model cannot be redeemed; and the Northern Ireland case cannot be presented as to provide a justification of its own. By contrast I sketch out an emergent “intercultural” alternative to consocationalism – an alternative that is epistemologically less vulnerable, more consonant with democratic norms, and with wider “real world” traction to tackle Northern Ireland’s deep-seated divisions. This intercultural paradigm has at its heart the idea that one develops one’s own complex identity through deliberation with others.

Dystopian prospects If McGarry and O’Leary seem surrounded by critics, it is because the latter mostly believe, reasonably enough, that the contribution intellectuals should make in divided societies is to foster reconciliation – towards an integrated society conforming to the democratic norm that the individual citizen, rather than the “community,” comprises the social unit, in line with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.1 By comparison, the insistence of McGarry and O’Leary that every individual be pigeonholed into the categories of ethno-nationalist division holds little normative attraction. Anxiety about the depth of division in Northern Ireland was expressed in 2004 by the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe – the continental guardian of democratic norms.2 The Assembly, while noting that violent conflict was at an end, worried that “society in Northern Ireland 1 2

N. Bobbio (1996) The Age of Rights, Cambridge, Polity, p. x. “The Council of Europe and the Conflict in Northern Ireland,” Resolution 1389 (2004), adopted September 7, 2004.

222

Robin Wilson

remains deeply divided along community lines.” The resolution urged not only the resumption of inter-party dialogue, but also respect for human rights and education for reconciliation. A few years earlier a report for the Minority Rights Group had expressed prescient concerns about the architecture of the Belfast Agreement in the following terms: “While the antecedents of this system are understandable, it may tend to entrench religious/ political differences, at a time when a substantial proportion of the people of Northern Ireland are willing to drop communal differences. It would give power to those who are adept at manipulating religious differences and nationalist politics.”3 Giving power to “those who are adept at manipulating religious differences” however reflects the elitism explicit in consociationalist realpolitik,4 attuned to a time when publics were more deferential than today. This has real effects on the ground. Such effects are reflected in such facts as that at the last official count, just before devolution was restored in May 2007, there were 46 “peace walls” – mainly in north and west Belfast.5 According to Neil Jarman, since the paramilitary ceasefires of 1994, nine new barriers have been built in Belfast and 11 strengthened or extended.6 A few weeks after the restoration, indeed, it emerged that yet another was to be built in north Belfast – on land used for the playground of an integrated primary school. Shortly thereafter, the Alliance Party proposed a motion in the Northern Ireland Assembly backing the policy framework on “community relations,” A Shared Future, which had emerged under direct rule.7 But the motion was amended to denude it of any obligation upon the new administration to do anything about it.8 When a report, also commissioned under direct rule, revealed that sectarian division could be costing Northern Ireland up to £1.5 billion per year, the administration sat on it until forced to release it under the Freedom of Information Act – then only to disown its conclusions.9 Yet O’Leary embraces just such a dystopian prospect: “Consociational politics is … politics without ‘shared vision,’” he bleakly writes.10 3

4 5 6

7

8 9

10

Y. Ghai (2001) Public Participation and Minorities, London, Minority Rights Group International, p. 19. P. R. Brass (1991) Ethnicity and Nationalism: Theory and Comparison, London, Sage, p. 334. S. Lister, “Divided by 57 peace lines,” Belfast Telegraph, April 26, 2007. N. Jarman (2006) Working at the Interface: Good Practice in Reducing Tension and Violence, Belfast, Institute for Conflict Research, p. 5. Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (2005) A Shared Future: Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland, Belfast, OFMDFM, www. asharedfutureni.gov.uk/pdf_documents/gprs.pdf See debate at www.niassembly.gov.uk/record/reports2007/070604.htm Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (2007) “Deloitte report: Research into the financial cost of the Northern Ireland divide,” Belfast, OFMDFM. B. O’Leary (2005) “Foreword: The realism of power-sharing,” in M. Kerr, Imposing PowerSharing: Conflict and Coexistence in Northern Ireland and Lebanon, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, p. xxii.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

223

Essentialist premises At the foundation of McGarry and O’Leary’s oeuvre is an essentialism which undermines the edifice elaborately built upon it. Essentialism represents the reduction of the complexity of a concrete object of study – “a rich totality of many determinations and relations,” in the redolent phrase of Karl Marx – to a single aspect or essence.11 It serves to naturalize, and so eternize, the phenomenon. In this context, essentialism consists in the reduction of cultural practices and political attitudes to taken-for-granted ethno-national “communities.” Indeed, McGarry and O’Leary stress repeatedly that “identity,” “nationality,” and “community” should be elided: “The two main communities [in Northern Ireland] have distinct national identities, not merely ethnic heritages.”12 Rupert Taylor notes how consociationalists are not very interested in theoretical elaboration, beyond what they take to be “facts” and “realities.”13 Yet essentialism has come under criticism across the social sciences. The political philosopher Seyla Benhabib complains of its “faulty epistemic premises,” notably that “cultures are clearly delineable wholes” and that “cultures are congruent with population groups.”14 Allen and Eade argue that almost all anthropologists “would flatly reject the idea that ethnicities are discrete cultural entities.”15 Today, anti-essentialism is taken as axiomatic within cultural studies. As Tony Bennett puts it, “it is no longer adequate to think about the relations between cultures in a society in the form of their compartmentalized division into separate ways of life and identities”; Bennett speaks instead of “overlapping trajectories.”16 In their specific scrutiny of multiculturalism, Joppke and Lukes similarly stress that “in any cultural group whatsoever in the modern world, there will be at least the following: identifiers, quasi-identifiers, semi-identifiers, non-identifiers, ex-identifiers, cross-identifiers, and anti-identifiers.”17 Bloomer and Weinreich establish such a nuanced spectrum of identity in Northern Ireland. Their research on 145 young people found that only 46 per cent were in-group identifiers, and 11

12

13

14

15

16

17

K. Marx (1973) Grundrisse: Introduction to the Critique of Political Economy, Harmondsworth, Penguin, p. 100. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) “Introduction,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 20. R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 37–52. S. Benhabib (2004) The Claims of Culture: Equality and Diversity in the Global Era, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press, p. 4. T. Allen and J. Eade (1999) “Understanding ethnicity,” in T. Allen and J. Eade (eds) Divided Europeans: Understanding Ethnicities in Conflict, The Hague, Kluwer Law International, pp. 13, 16. T. Bennett (2001) Differing Diversities: Cultural Policy and Cultural Diversity, Strasbourg, Council of Europe, p. 53. C. Joppke and S. Lukes (1999) “Introduction: Multicultural questions,” in C. Joppke and S. Lukes (eds) Multicultural Questions, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 10.

224

Robin Wilson

indeed 20 per cent of Protestants and 10 per cent of Catholics were crossidentifiers.18 The study also found that while respondents viewed members of the “other” religious community reasonably positively, they were negatively disposed towards the unionist/nationalist political group from that side – unsurprisingly, given the ethno-nationalist nature of the associated ideologies. Respondents “did not simply stereotype Catholics and Protestants in terms of the views held by their political representatives.”19 This implies rather more potential support for a politics of intercommunal accommodation which is not perversely determined, as O’Leary appears to be, to hook this to antagonistic ideologies – as reflected in his view that with the Belfast Agreement: “Unionists have recognized nationalists as nationalists, not simply as Catholics or the minority. Nationalists have recognized unionists as unionists, and not just as Protestants.”20

Incoherence and inadequacy At the outset, Lijphart refused any conceptualization of ethnically “plural societies” other than that premised on homogeneous cultures and associated political blocs.21 In so doing he took a sideswipe at a perceived tendency in “peace research” to “frown on peace which is achieved by separating the potential enemies.”22 Consociationalism might thus be described as mental partition: it is premised on the autonomy of ethnic “segments” and mutualveto arrangements between elites, as well as proportionality in public employment and grand-coalition government. Consociationalism, however, has come under increasing challenge: van Schendelen found Lijphart’s concepts slippery; Halpern showed that his cases did not conform to the model; Pappalardo demonstrated that the factors he claimed favoured consociationalism were mostly causally and empirically dubious; and Bogaards added that they had shifted over time.23 It would seem that 18

19 20

21

22 23

F. Bloomer and P. Weinreich (2003) “Cross-community relations projects and interdependent identities,” in O. Hargie and D. Dickson (eds) Researching the Troubles: Social Science Perspectives on the Northern Ireland Conflict, Edinburgh, Mainstream, pp. 155–57. Bloomer and Weinreich, “Cross-community relations projects,” pp. 154–55. B. O’Leary (2004) “The nature of the Agreement,” in McGarry and O’Leary (eds) The Northern Ireland Conflict, p. 284. A. Lijphart (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, Yale University Press, p. 44. Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies, p. 47. M. P. C. M. van Schendelen (1984) “The views of Arend Lijphart and collected criticisms,” in M. P. C. M. van Schendelen (ed.) Consociationalism, Pillarization and Conflict Management in the Low Countries, Amsterdam, Uitgeverij Boom, pp. 19–55; S. Halpern (1986) “The disorderly universe of consociational democracy,” West European Politics 9(2), 181–97; A. Pappalardo (1981) “The conditions for consociational democracy: A logical and empirical critique,” European Journal of Political Research 9(4), 365–90; M. Bogaards (1998) “The favourable factors for consociational democracy: A review,” European Journal of Political Research 33(4), 475–96.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

225

consociationalism only works where it is not necessary, and where it is (by Lijphart’s lights) it can unintentionally entrench ethnic division – in Belgium, for example.24 Lijphart defines consociationalism as the opposite of majoritarianism, in turn considered as a “Westminster-type” democracy with a plurality electoral system and a one-party, winner-takes-all government – he has the United Kingdom and the United States in mind. O’Leary follows this in representing consocationalism as the alternative to “the Westminster model.”25 But this narrow Anglo-American perspective does not work empirically on a European canvas. As Bogaards has pointed out, the counterpart of Lijphart’s consociationalist democracies should be those which he defines as “centrifugal democracies” in the wider Europe.26 These are “plural” (i.e. multi-ethnic) societies, in his terms, yet critically have adversarial elites. Lijphart’s reaction to Bogaards’ critique is, remarkably, to abandon the theoretical relationship between consociationalism and deeply divided societies altogether, by simply defining consociational democracy in terms of the four putative characteristics and removing the link to the “plural society” for which it was supposed to be the prescription.27 Outside Northern Ireland, even by Lijphart’s own claims,28 only Belgium and Switzerland currently conform to his consociationalist model, though he oddly suggests – accepting it is “more controversial” – that India, despite the strictures of Brass,29 and, stubbornly, South Africa are also examples. The Belgium federal government found itself unable to form for some six months after the June 2007 general election, and the Swiss Sonderfall is primarily a grassroots democracy (warts and all) rather than an elitist consociationalist system. Like McGarry and O’Leary, Lijphart has thus become heavily dependent on the Northern Ireland case.

Stretching the paradigm Lijphart now accepts that his erstwhile primordialism is obsolescent. He claims, however, that his preference for “self-determining” rather than 24

25

26

27

28

29

T. D. Sisk (1996) Power Sharing and International Mediation in Ethnic Conflicts, Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace, p. 39. On the Belgian case, see B. Cartritte (2002) “Contemporary ethnopolitical identity and the future of the Belgian state,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 8(3), 43–71. B. O’Leary (2004) “The limits to coercive consociationalism in Northern Ireland,” in McGarry and Leary (eds) The Northern Ireland Conflict, p. 98. M. Bogaards (2000) “The uneasy relationship between empirical and normative types in consociational theory,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 12(4), 395–423. A. Lijphart (2000) “Definitions, evidence, and policy: A response to Matthijs Bogaards’ critique,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 12(4), 425–31. A. Lijphart (2002) “The wave of power-sharing democracy,” in A. Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management, and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 41. Brass, Ethnicity and Nationalism, pp. 342–43.

226

Robin Wilson

“predetermined” communal “segments” saves the theory.30 But this does not address the risk with consociationalist arrangements – however one deems the segments to be constituted – that they not only recognize but entrench communal divisions. McGarry and O’Leary, meanwhile, deny the primordialism charge.31 But they do not offer any non-essentialist basis for their assertion that collectivized identities are “durable” – or any indication as to how indefinite that duration might be. This tactical retreat of consociationalism in the face of the criticisms is also evident in O’Leary’s work. He now defines consociationalism in such a way as to remove two of Lijphart’s key supports. He replaces grand coalition by the notion that power must merely be “jointly shared” and describes the mutual veto as a “contingent” feature.32 O’Leary recognizes the claims that grand coalitions entail the absence of opposition and that veto powers can have deadlocking effects, though he says the latter are exaggerated.33 But this is to concede that interethnic democracies are a wider, indeed near universal, set which does not contain a subset to be defined by consociationalist governance as long as the state – a lacuna in consociationalist theory – acts impartially in the sphere of employment. Including in this volume, McGarry and O’Leary seek, however, to adduce new elements to the theory, including various “external” factors, such as the north–south and east–west features of the Belfast Agreement and the latter’s provisions on policing. But these ad hoc accretions, which look suspiciously like defining consociationalism by whatever is being done in Northern Ireland at the moment, can be more coherently captured within an intercultural paradigm, with its cosmopolitan purview and commitment to universal human-rights norms. This bears further scrutiny. The wider Irish and British contexts are introduced by McGarry and O’Leary in a conventional manner, linked to their essentialist reductions of the complexities and pluralism of identity in Northern Ireland. Thus the North–South Ministerial Council is presented as a requirement of “local nationalists,” while the British–Irish Council is seen as offering countervailing “linkages” for “unionists.” It was precisely because the Council of Ireland in 1974 could be publicly represented by one “local nationalist” politician as “a vehicle for trundling unionists into a united Ireland” that it handed to unionists hostile to power sharing the powerful slogan “Dublin is only a Sunningdale away.”34 A very senior official in the Republic’s government subsequently confided that the Taoiseach, Liam Cosgrave, would have been willing to accede to Brian 30

31 32 33 34

A. Lijphart (2001) “Constructivism and consociational theory,” Newsletter of the American Political Science Association Organized Section in Comparative Politics 12(1), 11–13. McGarry and O’Leary, “Introduction,” p. 32. O’Leary, “Foreword,” p. xviii. O’Leary, “Foreword,” pp. xxiv, xxx. P. Bew and G. Gillespie (1999) Northern Ireland: A Chronology of the Troubles 1968–1999, Dublin, Gill and Macmillan, p. 77.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

227

Faulkner’s demand that the council be suspended: Dublin had calculated that if the grandiose plan had been fully realized it would have entailed the employment of tens of thousands of civil servants. The 1998 north–south arrangements were much more discrete than in 1974 – eventually employing only 700 officials – and by then the Republic had agreed to render its territorial claim over the north aspirational.35 McGarry and O’Leary rehearse the canard that where 1974 failed and 1998 succeeded (until 2002) was that the former did not embrace extremism. Yet what went wrong in both cases was that moderate Protestants became increasingly disaffected, respectively over the Council of Ireland and the failure of paramilitary arms decommissioning. And, in fact, now – as explained below – there is a real prospect that moderate Catholics will become disaffected from the 2007 arrangements. McGarry and O’Leary are overly determined in this volume to present the structural reform of policing as “binationalism,” despite noting in the same paragraph that the Patten Commission insisted that the name and symbolism of the reconstituted police should be freed of “any association with either the British or Irish states.”36 A leading member of the commission confided in advance of the 1999 report that it would be in line with the submission by the Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights.37 And so it was, with a chapter dedicated to human rights framing the substantive proposals.38 Indeed, the one institution arising from the Belfast Agreement to have survived intact throughout has been the Police Service of Northern Ireland. Its evident efforts to provide impartial public authority ensured that by 2007 even the republican movement was forced to accept the rule of law, so permitting the restoration of devolution.

The Northern Ireland case McGarry and O’Leary claim, in their chapter in this volume, that the Belfast Agreement is at least responsible for the peace that those of us who live in Northern Ireland now enjoy. Yet even this assertion looks weaker on closer inspection: the Agreement consolidated paramilitary ceasefires but it did not bring them about. Civic associations are based on relationships of affinity rather than ascription. Viewed through essentialist lenses they become invisible, and McGarry and O’Leary only mention such associations to dismiss them. Yet 35

36

37

38

B. Ó Caoindealbháin (ed.) (2007) Seizing the Moment: Proposals for a New Era in NorthSouth Co-operation, Dublin and Belfast, Co-operation Ireland. See p. 33. Independent Commission for Policing in Northern Ireland (1999) A New Beginning: Policing in Northern Ireland – The Report of the Independent Commission for Policing in Northern Ireland [The Patten Report], London, Stationery Office, www.belfast.org.uk/ report/fullreport.pdf I was a member of the committee of the Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights which prepared its submission and addressed the commission. The Patten Report, pp. 18–21.

228

Robin Wilson

as long as they generate networks that cross communal divides – unlike the Orange Order and Gaelic Athletic Association on which McGarry and O’Leary focus – they can be a powerful antidote to violence. Ashutosh Varshney has shown by comparing three pairs of Indian cities – in each case one peaceful, the other prone to Hindu–Muslim violence – that business, trade union, or similar networks can act as buffers against (what Giddens terms) the “degenerate spirals of communication” through which intercommunal violence escalates.39 The Northern Ireland “peace process” has been defined in journalistic accounts as emerging with the “Hume–Adams initiative,” which was made public (though nothing was published) in September 1993. Yet the communal solidarity implied by the initiative instantly polarized society and in October that year resulted in the worst month, in terms of fatal casualties, since 1976, with 28 killings.40 The horrors of Shankill, in which ten civilians were killed in an attempted Irish Republican Army (IRA) attack on an Ulster Defence Association (UDA) meeting, and Greysteel where the UDA killed seven Catholics in supposed reprisal, perfectly illustrated the “security dilemma” that such political polarization created and how paramilitaries filled it. On 3 November and, particularly, 18 November, the trade unions, supported by the business community, organized huge peace demonstrations in Belfast and 15 other towns throughout Northern Ireland, attracting tens of thousands of participants.41 More than 157,000 people contacted a phone line for peace jointly established by the Catholic and Protestant morning papers, the Irish News and News Letter, respectively.42 Just one person was killed as a result of “the Troubles” in November 1993, and violence never returned to such a terrifying scale before the IRA declared its ceasefire in August 1994, followed weeks later by its “loyalist” counterparts. As McGarry and O’Leary recognize, 1994 was a more signal turning point in the graph of deaths due to the Troubles than 1998,43 yet their blindness to social trends below elite politics leads them to assume that the Belfast Agreement played the bigger part. This reflects an official view widespread at the time. Far from encouraging civic associations to play a more prominent role, the peace process focused on the political and paramilitary elites, taken as simple expressions of their respective communities. Over time, the effect was to marginalize civic society and thus to prevent it from dampening sectarian tensions.44 39

40 41

42 43 44

A. Varshney (2002) Ethnic Conflict and Civic Life: Hindus and Muslims in India, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press; A. Giddens (1994) Beyond Left and Right: The Future of Radical Politics, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. 245. “Worst month for casualties in at least 17 years,” Irish Times, November 1, 1993. “Thousands demonstrate during day of peace in the North and the Republic,” Irish Times, November 19, 1993. “‘Troubles’ chronology,” Fortnight 324, January 1994, p. 29. See Table 1.1 and its discussion, chapter 1 of this volume. A. Guelke (2003) “Civil society and the Northern Irish peace process,” Voluntas 14(1), 61–78.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

229

The incidence of violence, albeit much less lethal as McGarry and O’Leary note, thus paradoxically rose in the years after the ceasefires, and rose again in the years after the Belfast Agreement – falling only in the years following the suspension in 2002 of the institutions it established. Meanwhile, Northern Irish society slowly but surely polarized, until intercommunal tensions were sufficient to snap the brittle power-sharing arrangements. Ironically, again, it was only then that growing pessimism about community relations in Northern Ireland, according to the Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey, began to be reversed.45 On the “peace dividend” to which McGarry and O’Leary refer,46 it is true that employment is at a record level in Northern Ireland. But then this is a common trend for most developed countries, so attention should be directed to assessing any such peace dividend relative to the UK average – and there has been significant employment growth across the UK since 1997. (Any comparison with the “Celtic Tiger” would of course suggest no dividend at all.) There has indeed been some valuable catch up, yet Northern Ireland retains the lowest employment rate of any UK region because of its continuing high economic inactivity.47 Moreover, the relative progress in economic performance since 1990, measured in gross value added per head, was almost entirely achieved in the pre-Agreement period.48 It was mainly due to high public expenditure in Northern Ireland acting as an automatic stabilizer during the recession in private-sector demand in Britain in the early part of that decade. McGarry and O’Leary also point to house prices rising more rapidly than the UK average as an index of the peace dividend. Yet low house prices in Northern Ireland had hitherto offset the poverty associated with low employment and low average wages.49 Inadequate provision for social housing, meanwhile, has seen homelessness steadily rise in recent years. Any dividend has thus, perversely, accrued principally to the middle class – to those least troubled by the Troubles.

From multiculturalism to interculturalism Significantly, O’Leary presents his bête noire of “integration” as entailing that one or other communal “segment” collectively accepts that it will 45

46 47

48

49

R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2004) “Northern Ireland: Renascent?” in A. Trench (ed.) Has Devolution Made a Difference? The State of the Nations 2004, Exeter, Imprint Academic Press, pp. 108–109. See p. 53. Statistics Research Branch, Department of Enterprise, Trade and Investment (2006) “Labour market statistics: 2006 update,” Labour Market Bulletin 20, 34. T. Morahan (2006) “The state of the Northern Ireland economy: A UK regional comparison,” Labour Market Bulletin 20, 39. P. Kenway, T. MacInnes, A. Kelly, and G. Palmer (2006) Monitoring Poverty and Social Exclusion in Northern Ireland 2006, York, Joseph Rowntree Foundation.

230

Robin Wilson

“surrender its identity” or as requiring “the creation of a transcendent identity.”50 But this is assimilation, to which the conventional alternative model for the management of diversity has been multiculturalism. The introduction of direct rule in 1972 saw a discredited unionist assimilation replaced by multiculturalism, under the banner of “parity of esteem,” following its application in Britain to minority members from former colonies. Multiculturalism has however entered into a terminal crisis. If the nadir of assimilation was the riots of 2005 in the French suburbs, multiculturalism died in the riots in northern England in 2001, with the subsequent official expression of concern that “communities” there inhabited “parallel lives.”51 Melita Malabotta argues that multiculturalism represents “the coexistence of non-communicating vases in the same shared space”; it “facilitates the maintenance of the original identity,” but “on the cultural level there is no significant synthesis.” Interculturalism, on the other hand, is “based on the plural presence of individual subjects” and “not only on the communities they belong to.” In this model, “meeting and exchange take place between the different elements within the public space … and the society has a low ethnic conflict rate.”52 The positive, interculturalist paradox is that the complexity and non-exclusive nature of identity means that overlapping identities, and so solidarities in the name of a common humanity, are possible. Tolerance, in that context, is essential to cope with the heterogeneity of our social world. It requires a neutral state – not a “binational” one – as the history of religious tolerance shows. The abandonment of the principle cuius regio, eius religio (to each realm its own religion) was the only basis on which the wars of religion could be ended. In similar vein, Ulrich Beck affirms that the cosmopolitan state of today is “grounded in the principle of the state’s neutrality towards nationality and allows national identities to exist side by side through the principle of constitutional tolerance.”53 Bo Rothstein concurs. In the absence of impartial public authority, he identifies the danger that a “social trap” will prevent the resolution of collective-action dilemmas – particularly in ethnically divided societies, where there is a collective memory of mistrustful behaviour by the stereotyped “other.”54 These strictures apply to all societies: those divided along ethnic lines differ only by degree. “Cosmopolitanism” provides the appropriate model of governance for this intercultural world, which David Held typifies thus: “egalitarian individualism – where humankind is regarded as belonging to a 50 51

52

53 54

O’Leary, “The limits to coercive consociationalism,” p. 100. T. Cantle (2001) Community Cohesion: A Report of the Independent Review Team, London, Home Office. M. R. Malabotta (2005) “Managing cultural transitions: Multiculturalism, interculturalism and minority policies,” in N. Švob-Đokic´ (ed.) The Emerging Creative Industries in Southeastern Europe, Zagreb, Institute for International Relations, p. 117 (all quotes). U. Beck (2005) Power in a Global Age, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. 92. B. Rothstein (2005) Social Traps and the Problem of Trust, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

231

single moral realm; reciprocal recognition – in which this status of equal worth is recognized by all; and impartial treatment – where all claims arising are subject to rules that all can share.”55 In fact, in Northern Ireland, just such vision was at the heart of the A Shared Future document, which proved so allergic to the parties in the new administration. Its aim was defined as: “The establishment over time of a normal, civic society, in which all individuals are considered as equals, where differences are resolved through dialogue in the public sphere, and where all people are treated impartially. A society where there is equity, respect for diversity and a recognition of our interdependence.”56 Unlike assimilation, the intercultural approach recognizes that public authorities must be impartial – rather than accepting a majority ethos – if communalist tensions are to be avoided. Unlike multiculturalism, however, it vindicates a single moral realm predicated on human rights, rather than accepting moral relativism with the associated tendency towards ghettoization. Unlike both, it recognizes a key role for the associational sphere of civic society where, premised on reciprocal recognition, intercultural dialogue can resolve the problems of daily life in a way governments alone cannot. And, unlike both, its horizon does not end at the boundary of the nation-state.

Governance arrangements Critics of consociationalism must be able to offer cogent alternatives. The trick is to recognize that, once a “one group, one culture” essentialism is abandoned, the fear of ethnic “lock-in” to which consociationalism attends can be met without resorting to its limited repertoire. First, of grand coalitions, the constitutional-engineering expert Giovani Sartori warns that these “obscure responsibility to the utmost and are, as a rule, more heterogeneous and more easily gridlocked.”57 A better approach in divided societies is thus to pursue incremental progress in reducing ethnic divisions, starting from a realizable coalition embracing the more moderate “communal contenders,” as against more militant “ethno-nationalists” – to follow the distinction drawn by Asbjørn Eide.58 For if the former do recognize to varying degrees that persons affiliating to different ethnic communities have to rub along together in a shared polity, the latter operate on assimilationist assumptions, which can only be a recipe for an indefinite zero-sum conflict with their equal-and-opposite antagonists. This is why it is incorrect of McGarry and O’Leary to prefer nationalistic rather than ethnic political categories: it 55

56 57

58

D. Held (2003) “From executive to cosmopolitan multilateralism,” in D. Held and M. Koenig-Archibugi (eds) Taming Globalization: Frontiers of Governance, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. 169. Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister, A Shared Future, p. 8. G. Sartori (1997) Comparative Constitutional Engineering: An Inquiry into Structures, Incentives and Outcomes, 2nd edn, Basingstoke, Macmillan, p. 71. A. Eide (1993) New Approaches to Minority Protection, London, Minority Rights Group International, p. 10.

232

Robin Wilson

is to ensure that what is nominally power sharing is nothing more than sharing out power, while continuing to fight a war of attrition for one or other preferred ethno-nationalist outcome. And once one takes account of intra-ethnic competition – never mind the non- or inter-ethnic parties that McGarry and O’Leary play down – a coalition of the “moderate middle” is actually more realistic than an inclusive Executive. As the honeymoon period for the new devolved administration came to an end in the autumn of 2007, ministers, who had already decided not to issue agreed post-Executive statements as before, found at a meeting in October that they could not even agree the minutes of their previous meeting. These touched on whether an organization linked to the UDA should receive government funding. The minister concerned, Margaret Ritchie of the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP), left the meeting early to take to the television studios in defence of her position, which enjoyed wide public support, while her Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) colleagues vehemently attacked her in front of the cameras as soon as the meeting broke up. Ritchie was backed by the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP) ministers, and shortly afterwards the UUP leader, Sir Reg Empey, initiated a debate on the eve of his party’s conference as to whether the party should leave the Executive.59 Interestingly, Ritchie spoke at the UUP conference, calling for the two parties to be “better friends” and delighting delegates with her rhetoric flourish that there should be “no surrender” to the dominant parties in the Executive, the DUP and Sinn Féin.60 In turn, and equally without precedent, UUP representatives were invited to the SDLP conference shortly afterwards, with one suggesting the parties might have “a shared future.”61 The “moderate middle,” it appeared, was beginning a faltering reconstitution. The inability of the two main Executive parties even to come up with Assembly business was remarkable. After the first six months of renewed devolution, it emerged that the bulk of Assembly motions had been private members’ business and the bulk of legislation had simply been to maintain parity with the rest of the UK.62 The meeting at which the immanent tensions in the Executive blew up was meant to focus on the agreement of a draft Programme for Government (PfG), the key vehicle to make devolution distinct from direct rule. The PfG was eventually agreed, but only as the flimsiest of documents. Whereas the first PfG of the prior devolved government ran to more than 70 pages,63 this one was just 16 – 59 60 61

62

63

R. Empey, “Just wait and see … we will be back in business,” Belfast Telegraph, October 26, 2007. N. McAdam, “Let’s get together,” Belfast Telegraph, October 29, 2007. N. McAdam, “Ulster Unionist speaker given a standing ovation,” Belfast Telegraph, November 5, 2007. N. McAdam, “Table for two as old foes join business committee,” Belfast Telegraph, November 5, 2007. Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (2001) Making a Difference: Programme for Government 2001–04, Belfast, OFMDFM.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

233

double-spaced.64 There was no agreement between the principal parties on any substantive policies – notably, on development of a culture of tolerance, the reorganization of subregional governance, academic selection in schools, the devolution of policing and justice, or support for the Irish language. Of particular concern was the emerging pattern which for many Catholics was encapsulated in what they saw as Ritchie’s necessary insistence that she would not be “bullied” by the DUP deputy leader, Peter Robinson.65 For on critical issues such as the last three named, the parties drawn from the Catholic community found themselves in the position of demandeurs, while the DUP was seeking to exercise the veto powers it had secured in the small print of the St Andrews Agreement of October 2006, allowing any party with three ministers to insist that any ministerial decision be subject to a cross-community vote in the Executive.66 This meant that the DUP could block anything it wished, even if all other parties agreed – a power only enhanced by Robinson’s control of the finance portfolio and his evident determination, when he announced his first budget alongside the draft programme, to keep rates down rather than public spending up. A worry, thus, is that Catholics will increasingly come to associate devolution with a DUP veto. There were already warning signs in the wake of the concessions to that party by Tony Blair, desperate to shore up his political legacy, at St Andrews. The 2006 Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey, conducted in the succeeding weeks, found a significant skewing of Protestant opinion in favour of devolution and an opposite distancing from devolution on the part of Catholic respondents, as Table 11.1 shows. A cross-communal but not all-party coalition will in itself be one guarantee against ethnic oppression. The key thing is that the government should be formed by agreement, rather than by an automatic formula, to send out a clear signal of collectivity and commitment to the public good, to remaining ethnic protagonists and to the public at large. As long as this is allied to impartial public authority (i.e. protection of the rule of law and human rights), then the often implicit assumption in Northern Ireland that parties denied a role in government can and will resort to violence is politically as well as morally unsustainable. In any event, mutual-veto arrangements – which are, in reality, more likely to be used against the minority than in its favour, owing to the balance of power – can be supplanted by mechanisms that prevent lock-in without reifying identities. International minority-rights declarations, such as those promulgated in the 1990s by the Council of Europe, the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, and the 64

65

66

Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (2007) Building a Better Future: Draft Programme for Government 2008–2011, Belfast, OFMDFM, www.pfgbudgetni.gov.uk/ pfg241007new.pdf BBC News Online, October 17, 2007, http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/7049110. stm The Agreement at St Andrews, www.nio.gov.uk/st_andrews_agreement.pdf

234

Robin Wilson

Table 11.1 Shifting attitudes to devolution after St Andrews (%) 2005

2006

ALL Northern Ireland should become … Independent Devolution Remain part of the UK with own parliament Remain part of the UK with own Assembly Remain part of the UK with no Assembly Unify with the Republic of Ireland Don’t know

11 52 (31) (21) 10 17 10

6 57 (42) (16) 5 23 9

10 66 (39) (27) 15 1 8

5 81 (59) (22) 6 2 5

12 35 (23) (12) 3 39 10

7 29 (22) (8) 3 48 13

PROTESTANTS Northern Ireland should become … Independent Devolution Remain part of the UK with own parliament Remain part of the UK with own Assembly Remain part of the UK with no Assembly Unify with the Republic of Ireland Don’t know CATHOLICS Northern Ireland should become … Independent Devolution Remain part of the UK with own parliament Remain part of the UK with own Assembly Remain part of the UK with no Assembly Unify with the Republic of Ireland Don’t know Source: Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey.

United Nations represent a supportive set of external standards.67 These should be incorporated into the long-postponed Bill of Rights for Northern Ireland – indeed, it is difficult to see otherwise how any bill, consistent with international norms, will ever see the light of day. 67

Council of Europe (1995) Framework Convention for the Protection of National Minorities and Explanatory Report, Strasbourg, Council of Europe; Foundation on Inter-Ethnic Relations [FI-ER] (1996) The Hague Recommendations Regarding the Education Rights of National Minorities in Public Life and Explanatory Note, The Hague; FI-ER (1998) The Oslo Recommendations Regarding the Linguistic Rights of National Minorities in Public Life & Explanatory Note, The Hague; FI-ER (1999) The Lund Recommendations on the Effective Participation of National Minorities in Public Life and Explanatory Note, The Hague; Eide, New Approaches to Minority Protection.

Consociationalism to interculturalism

235

It is also worth recalling that in the power-sharing executive of 1974 there was no need felt for veto provisions, and in particular no communal designation as a result. This appears to be because a template for the arrangements then was a pamphlet by the late political scientist John Whyte in 1971 for the New Ulster Movement, progenitor of the Alliance Party, which argued strongly against institutionalizing sectarian division.68 Proportional representation in public – and, indeed, private – employment should be the product of equal-opportunity legislation, including scope for affirmative action as required, in any society. But this should not normally involve quotas and should arise from objective recruitment procedures, rather than the operation of party patronage systems. The latter are not only inefficient but the Proporz system in Austria (one of Lijphart’s original cases) gave the Freedom Party an easy stick with which to beat the “red–black” establishment on its political rise.69 One accepts that in a divided society “segmental autonomy” is inevitably the starting point for reconciliation. Yet high fences do not make good, but rather mistrustful, neighbours. A huge 2004 survey of 9,000 individuals living near interfaces in north and west Belfast revealed a deeply embedded culture of méfiance, which the authors – Shirlow and Murtagh – linked to the validating of Northern Ireland’s competing ethno-nationalist positions, as if these were benign traditions, in the Belfast Agreement.70 Manlio Cinalli stresses the importance of developing horizontal relationships of interdependence within civil society if power-sharing arrangements are to go beyond ethnic pillarization.71 For example, voluntary and inter-church networks have been able to ensure that the Ballynafeigh neighbourhood of south Belfast remains religiously as well as socially mixed, unlike the walled-off neighbourhoods in the north of the city.72 Last, but not least, to move on to the wider canvas, the best way to pursue Irish, like European, integration is to present it not in the nationalist language of state unification, nor in the minimalist unionist language of economic cooperation for mutual benefit, but as a project of reconciliation among Irish men and women which over time will undo the negative effects of partition.73 Similarly, the value of links between a devolved Northern Ireland and Britain, in the light of “home rule all round” since 1998, lies in 68

69

70

71

72

73

J. Whyte (1971) “The reform of Stormont,” Belfast, New Ulster Movement, http://cain.ulst. ac.uk/othelem/organ/num/num71a.htm F. Fallend (2004) “Are right-wing populism and government participation incompatible? The case of the Freedom Party of Austria,” Representation 40(2), 115–30. P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press, p. 34. M. Cinalli (2005) “Below and beyond power sharing: Relational structures across institutions and civil society,” in I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (eds) Power Sharing: New Challenges for Divided Societies, London, Pluto Press, pp. 172–87. R. Wilson (2007) A Shared Today: Belfast’s Ballynafeigh Neighbourhood, Belfast, Ballynafeigh Community Development Association. Ó Caoindealbháin (ed.), Seizing the Moment.

236

Robin Wilson

policy exchange with the other jurisdictions, rather than seeking to reverse the intrinsically desirable trend toward democratic decentralization and policy innovation across the UK. Only an outward-looking commitment to both axes can make this a positive-sum, rather than zero-sum, game.

Conclusion Northern Ireland’s governance arrangements do not institutionalize ethnicity as deeply as those in Bosnia-Herzegovina, but they do so to a greater extent than the more flexible arrangements in Macedonia.74 As such, if not as drastically as in Bosnia-Herzegovina, there is a need to revisit constitutional engineering with a view to engendering more optimal outcomes – shifting the focus, as the Venice Commission suggested,75 from the collectivized “constituent peoples” to individual “citizens,” with a view to promoting the “common weal.” This would not only provide more effective government, and opposition, but point the way towards reconciliation. Currently devolution looks to be repeating the cycle from 1998 to 2002 of the exercise of communal vetoes and growing intercommunal mistrust, which ensured relations around the Executive table were, as one minister confided, “poisonous” by the end. The risk was that, short of another crisis bringing the familiar scenario of the two premiers descending on Belfast, London and Dublin would happily tolerate a weak, underperforming government with reconciliation endlessly postponed. The citizens of Northern Ireland surely deserve a government that works and a future that is shared – and practical assistance from political scientists to realize these aspirations.

74

75

F. Bieber (2005) “Partial implementation, partial success: The case of Macedonia,” in O’Flynn and Russell (eds) Power Sharing, p. 109. European Commission for Democracy through Law (2005) “Opinion on the constitutional situation in Bosnia and Herzegovina and the powers of the high representative,” Strasbourg, Council of Europe, www.venice.coe.int/docs/2005/CDL-AD(2005)004-e.pdf

12 Squaring some vicious circles Transforming the political in Northern Ireland John Cash

Every religious, moral, economic, ethical or other antithesis transforms into a political one if it is sufficiently strong to group human beings effectively according to friend and enemy. (Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, 1996, p. 37)

Throughout the latter part of the twentieth century Northern Ireland was aptly termed “a place apart,” due to the apparent persistence of ascriptive identities that, according to conventional wisdom, should have no place in a modernizing, and thereafter globalizing society.1 However, this uncanny “apartness” was so striking because, as with everything uncanny, it returned to the disowned familiar. The place apart was actually deeply embedded in both British and Irish culture and contained within a governmental structure that devolved limited, if significant, powers to the regional Stormont regime. This same place apart was also claimed by the adjoining nation-state, the Republic of Ireland, as integral to its sovereign territory. I mention these well-known features of Northern Ireland at the outset, as I believe they and related features radically qualify any claims regarding the centrality of consociational arrangements to the recent and emergent transformation of politics in Northern Ireland. Instead, they highlight the extent to which the political conflict within Northern Ireland was enmeshed in and subordinate to larger socio-political and politico-cultural forces and they underline that any transformation inevitably had to negotiate these multiple force fields, as they distributed their effects within Northern Ireland’s political cultures. In their informative opening “Argument” John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary carefully qualify their endorsement of consociationalism as follows: “In short, while consociation was and is vital for a political settlement in Northern Ireland, it had to be supplemented by key binational institutions that squarely addressed the national dimension of the conflict between British nationalists, known as unionists, and Irish integrationists, known as 1

“A place apart” is how Dervla Murphy characterized Northern Ireland in her book of that name, originally published in 1978. The phrase has resonated throughout discussion of Northern Ireland ever since.

238

John Cash

nationalists. Consociation was a necessary, but insufficient, requirement for a stable agreement.”2 Thereafter, they itemize several features of the Good Friday Agreement that all “departed from traditional consociational accords”; namely the North–South Ministerial Council, the British–Irish Governmental Conference, recognition of the people of Ireland’s right to national self-determination, and recognition of the principle of consent, and the British–Irish Council.3 Subsequently, with reference to the testing endgame, they highlight issues of security and, implicitly, of trust in the new security arrangements regarding policing, decommissioning, and paramilitary organizations, amongst others.4 As they put it: “In Northern Ireland, the rival parties disagreed more strongly on security questions than on the design of the political institutions.”5 Throughout their discussion they recognize the significant, indeed critical, roles played by “external” actors such as the United Kingdom and Irish governments, the United States, and the European Community. Faced with such a long set of significant qualifications, Northern Ireland would appear, then, from the perspective of theories of consociational democracy, very much “a place apart” after all! These several qualifications give rise to two related questions. First, is such a qualified and restricted form of consociation – an intricate power-sharing government with limited powers over a restricted set of portfolios and subject, finally, to Westminster – well characterized as an instructive example of consociational democracy? Given that Westminster retains authority in key domains such as international relations, defence, the economy, and immigration, to name a few, and given that, despite its international treaties, Westminster can prorogue Stormont and re-establish direct rule, the powers available to a power-sharing government at Stormont are quite limited. Of course they are not negligible powers, but the recent success of the new Assembly is hardly a suitable test case in terms of which to proclaim the virtues of consociational democracy per se. The formal and substantive role now played by the Republic of Ireland points in the same direction. Those deep entanglements with both the UK and Ireland, against which Northern Ireland’s uncanny difference took form, are also the resources through which political change has been guided, supported, and contained – as McGarry and O’Leary readily acknowledge. These considerations go directly to the second, more significant, question. How does political culture figure in this argument about the suitability and likely success of internal political arrangements? In particular, what follows for McGarry and O’Leary’s strong claim regarding consociational democracy, if there is a complex internal connection between any success of governmental structures and the predominant political culture? In turn, what if 2 3 4 5

See See See See

p. 26. p. 32. the section “Security and consociation” that begins on p. 45. p. 45.

Transforming the political

239

the prevalent features of this political culture at any moment are determined not only by internal (intra-Northern Ireland) processes, but also, and interactively, by the dynamic relation between such internal processes and those emanating from the authoritatively privileged, often deeply cathected external sources of (competing, often conflicting) national identities? I will go on to argue that the success of the new political arrangements for Northern Ireland is dependent upon the framing and containing political culture within which the variety of initiatives and incentives, that McGarry and O’Leary point to, can take root and slowly flourish. Moreover this now fertile ground has been prepared through the interplay of internal and external processes. Just as “the Troubles” took root on fertile ground prepared by the conflicted co-presence of British and Irish identifications and claims to sovereignty, as so many internally distributed and amplified effects, likewise their displacement has taken root upon the ground of an alternate political culture carefully prepared, and insisted upon, by the two principal sovereign authorities and either welcomed or reluctantly accepted by some internal parties, or fractions thereof. Hence, my argument is that political culture looms as a far more significant variable than McGarry and O’Leary recognize. I am not suggesting that they would reject an argument that political culture is significant, rather that the account they develop fails to systematically incorporate any such recognition. What, however, if it is the very fault lines of political culture that established the need for those security-enhancing features that “departed from traditional consociational accords”; such features as the federal and confederal aspects of the Good Friday Agreement, and the parallel need for a trust-inducing, or at least anxiety-reducing, handling of security in the endgame period? Indeed, what if the Assembly, as a consociational device, is not so much a “necessary” component of a successful transition, but rather an efficient component of such, but only under propitious political cultural conditions? What becomes of the consociational designation, dare I say, any consociational triumphalism then?

The burden of “the political” The structuration and restructuration of political culture in Northern Ireland has proved critical to both the persistence of the Troubles over such a long period and, also, to their displacement and replacement by some new, as yet to be fully achieved, political constellation. For the potential of the emergent political culture to be at least partially realized, the disfiguring effects of Northern Ireland’s history of emergence and consolidation need to be displaced. This is necessary, at least to a significant degree, as the burden of history has weighed heavily upon Northern Ireland and its citizens since the inception of the Northern Ireland state. They inherited or acquired a contrived state whose very form and political culture contained the deep imprint of its conflicted history of emergence. This burden – which might well be regarded as “the

240

John Cash

curse of Cromwell” – was inherited from the long conflicted history of British colonization in Ireland. It was a burden that, although unequally distributed, weighed heavily on all. In a word it was the burden of “the political.” Carl Schmitt famously characterized “the political” as a situation marked by the prevalence of the friend–enemy distinction.6 It is this distinction and its capacity to organize identities according to its logic of antithesis and exclusion that has disfigured the history of Northern Ireland and the lives of its citizens over great swathes of time and place since 1920. That is to say, the friend–enemy distinction has been prevalent, and often dominant, throughout the history of Northern Ireland. At any moment, and particularly at those testing moments when unionist hegemony was challenged, the friend–enemy distinction recolonized the array of social institutions and their embedded cultural forms. At such polarized moments it became “proper” to draw from the ideological repertoire of common-sense understandings regarding self and other, those presumptions and constructions that were organized by the friend–enemy distinction. It became proper to construct the field of political identities and relations as one dominated by an exclusivist mentality and organized through exclusivist practices.7 This is quite evident in such foundational statements as Sir Basil Brooke’s ruminations on the dangers of employing Catholics as they “had got too many appointments for men who were really out to cut their throats if opportunity arose.”8 It is evident in the very institution of a six-county Ulster as “Northern Ireland,” in the creation of gerrymanders, such as that in Derry, in the administration of welfare state provisions, such as council housing. None of this was novel, of course. Rather its background and basis lay in the long history of British colonization of Ireland and the efforts of Irish republicanism to free Ireland from imperial domination. However, partition did give the friend–enemy distinction new intensity as it established and facilitated the emergence of a contrived majority of unionists for so long as that identity could maintain its power to interpellate or summon the majority Protestant population to a core identification with unionism. Given such an historical legacy, substantive democracy has had to await significant ideological change. The history of Northern Ireland is in large part a history of how subordinated democratic potentialities have slowly, and with many reversals, come into a late and fragile bloom. It is a history of the deep entrenchment and recent, perhaps only partial, displacement of the friend–enemy distinction as the master signifier of political identity and its slow, tortuous, and often halted and reversed, replacement by the alternate 6

7

8

C. Schmitt (1996) The Concept of the Political, trans. G. Schwab, Chicago, University of Chicago Press. This process is particularly well illustrated by two ethnographic studies: F. Burton (1978) The Politics of Legitimacy, London, Routledge and Kegan Paul; and A. Feldman (1991) Formations of Violence, Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Fermanagh Times, July 13, 1933, cited in A. C. Hepburn (1980) The Conflict of Nationality in Modern Ireland, London, Edward Arnold, p. 164.

Transforming the political

241

master signifier of the political adversary. Through an adversarial political culture displacing a friend–enemy political culture, the fault lines of Northern Ireland’s political cultures have falteringly been traversed. Needless to add, for the moment this remains something of a high-wire act. The friend–enemy distinction, Schmitt’s distinguishing criterion of the political, can itself be eclipsed or else it can be sublimated, but it cannot be eradicated. Schmitt notes as much when he comments that “it is a political entity when it possesses, even if only negatively, the capacity of promoting that decisive step, when it is in the position of forbidding its members to participate in wars, i.e. of decisively denying the enemy quality of a certain adversary.” Later in the same paragraph Schmitt makes it clear that this includes the promotion or “forbidding” of “civil war within a state.”9 By way of expanding the significance of this dual aspect of Schmitt’s argument – the political as either authoritative promotion or denial of the applicability of the friend–enemy distinction – I suggest that the political also denotes the recurrent battle between those forces that act to install the friend–enemy distinction and those that act to displace it by turning the enemy into the mere adversary. Such a displacement is possible and is routinely achieved, but it is never total and complete. Some friend–enemy constellations remain and can always extend their scope so as to achieve predominance in the organization of what counts as proper within intra-group and inter-group relations and with regard to power, authority, and violence. Such exclusivist, friend– enemy mentalities and practices offer an answer to the anxieties of insecurity – typically through ideologies of exclusion, hatred, contempt, and, often, dehumanization that elevate the narcissism of minor, or major, differences into gross distinctions between the proper and the improper, us and them. But, of course, this answer never quite succeeds in stilling the spectre of insecurity that lies both the other side of the exclusivist boundary and that also polices the home territory, searching out and punishing those who stray from the requisite forms of identity. Rather, such exclusivist mentalities and practices rely on, and hence reiterate, the spectre of insecurity as the very rationale for their enclosure and exclusion of otherness. They construct mere difference and multiplicity as singular hostility and aggressivity and this, in turn, can become a self-fulfilling process that generates mutual antagonism of the exclusivist kind. Once installed, such political cultures and the practices and mentalities they support and legitimate are extremely difficult to displace. This is the case as they establish what counts as proper within the commonsense constructions and assumptions that inform and organize the performance of political identities. These common-sense proprieties, once embedded as cultural forms within the array of social institutions, are typically identified with, and emotionally cathected, by those citizens and political actors who draw upon this repertoire of political know-how to perform their political identity. Given such binding ties to the legitimated political culture, effective 9

Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 37 (both quotes).

242

John Cash

change involves the reordering of this political culture through bringing into predominance those contrary forms of ideology and political identity that construe or enact the political through a refusal of the friend–enemy distinction. Instead, these contrary forms turn to the figure of the adversary as the organizing master signifier for a politics of creative ambivalence.

Analysing political culture Typically, political cultures are analysed in terms of their ideational content and their capacity to support subjective identifications with the values they encode, as is evident in the debate at hand between “integrationists” and “accommodationists” concerning identifications with nation in a deeply divided society.10 Such an approach characteristically overlooks the internal differentiation within any political culture; its qualitatively distinct internal forms for the organization of cognition, affect, evaluation, and identification.11 This oversight is perilous, as the typical focus on ideational continuity/discontinuity (for or against unionism, nationalism, or republicanism, for instance) can disguise transformations in the mode of such identifications and the implications this carries for ways in which cognitive, affective, and evaluative orientations towards politics are performed. In order to redress this limitation, in this discussion I draw upon aspects of a more detailed approach to the analysis of ideologies and political cultures that addresses their internal qualitative differences. One form of political culture in Northern Ireland may be usefully characterized as exclusivist and persecutory. This form constructs the political and social order through a series of splits and projections in which the friend–enemy distinction acts as master signifier. Allegiance to group norms becomes the measure by which the proper position of political subjects within this split world is determined. Within the exclusivist formation the “other” is construed as persecutory if, within the field of social and political relations, they adhere to, and act upon, values and beliefs that are in opposition with those sanctioned by the subject’s collectivity (or collectivities) of identification. Merely acting oppositionally is construed, within the persecutory position, as acting in a treacherous and aggressive manner which must be opposed and defeated at all costs, in order to maintain the propriety and authority of the communal values, beliefs, and interests of one’s identificatory collectivity. This incapacity to tolerate disagreement and opposition is not restricted to the construction of members of the “out-group.” The same intolerance is evident in the construction of members of the subject’s 10

11

Integrationists and accommodationists are terms used by McGarry and O’Leary as broad characterizations of the two principal tendencies in the literature. See p. 17. In this formulation I have drawn on the classic account of political culture developed by Almond and Verba and their focus on cognitive, affective, and evaluative orientations towards politics. I have added an emphasis on the mode of identification with political collectivities, institutions, values, and projects. See G. Almond and S. Verba (1965) The Civic Culture, Boston, Little, Brown.

Transforming the political

243

own collectivity who speak or act in ways that differ from those preferred ways that are sanctioned by the collective norms. This form of exclusivism distinguishes between those others who “know their place,” as it were, and those who are construed as dangerous persecutors. It is only those who step out of place, by refusing to accept their allotted social position, that are construed as persecutory. Toleration, for the moment, is extended to those who accept their designated social place. In the case of any nominal members of the subject’s own collectivity, they are construed as proper members of the grouping for so long as they maintain their adherence to collective norms and continue to draw upon the repertoire of exclusivist rules. To differ from collective norms is to become an internal persecutory other deserving exclusion and retribution, usually, although not always, symbolic in kind. The inclusivist form of political culture, by way of contrast, construes individuals, groups, and the whole political and social formation as complex and multifaceted. Hence it is marked by the capacity to perform and contain ambivalence in its construction of self and other. Rather than being split and projected in ways characteristic of exclusivism, “others” and other collectivities (including frustrating others, distrusted others, and, even, despised others), are construed as complex subjects with both positive and negative aspects. Thus, in contrast with exclusivism, the capacity for the handling of complexity, for the shifting of perspective, and the enactment of bargaining and compromise is greatly enhanced.12 The ultimate issue under consideration within the debates about consociationalism is change at the level of political identities and within political cultures; can the friend–enemy discourse be tamed and domesticated through elite-level bargaining or can it be displaced?13 My argument is that for so long as the exclusivist forms of unionism and nationalism/republicanism were hegemonic and the friend–enemy mentality predominated, no juggling with political arrangements could square the vicious circle. Rather, such institutions and initiatives would collapse on the fallow ground of the friend–enemy discourse. Surely this is the bitter lesson of nearly 40 years of civil conflict in Northern Ireland. It is only when the two sovereign powers, the UK and the Republic of Ireland, and the major external powers, the United States and the European Community, came to share a broad set of rules for the resolution of the Troubles, rules that included binational, federal 12

13

For a detailed specification and application of these concepts to the analysis of identity, ideology, and conflict in Northern Ireland, see J. D. Cash (1996) Identity, Ideology and Conflict: The Structuration of Politics in Northern Ireland, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. In Northern Ireland mere domestication through elite-level bargaining could never succeed, for the very reason that the consociational institutions could never be total institutions due to their status as devolved or subordinate institutions of government. The resulting, inevitable exposure to the routines of adversarial politics emanating from both British and Irish institutions, and their interaction with local democratic traditions and initiatives, has created a situation that both requires and promotes displacement, rather than domestication, of the friend–enemy distinction as master signifier.

244

John Cash

and confederal dimensions, insecurity-reducing arrangements regarding police, army, and paramilitary groups, along with internal power sharing, that the slow process of transforming the political culture could proceed with some real chance of success. Most importantly, this new set of rules included an insistence on the displacement of the friend–enemy distinction and the pragmatic adoption of an adversarial political culture, at least for so long as political actors participated in the authoritative political process that was unfolding at the behest of the now coordinated sovereign governments and their principal international confederates. As McGarry and O’Leary note with regard to Ian Paisley and the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), the Agreement represents a new dispensation that even the most reluctant, those deeply enmeshed in the exclusivist forms of political culture, could not ignore.14 To do so was to risk political oblivion. Calculated risks could be taken, but the rules of the game had changed – green chips and orange chips were no longer of different denominations, as it were. In this situation the internal consociational arrangements were less critical than the other factors that McGarry and O’Leary point to and that are summarized above. As I read their argument, they acknowledge this claim without, however, drawing the entailed conclusion. This becomes apparent if we ask which of the several features of the Agreement and its implementation outlined above were the least critical. In my opinion the internal consociational arrangements were less critical than the other features of the Agreement that McGarry and O’Leary highlight; moreover, it seems to me that they actually agree with this claim. There is, then, a significant internal tension to their argument; the other factors they regard as necessary throw into question any strong claim that contemporary Northern Ireland exemplifies the strengths of consociational democracy. This is compounded by an external absence, as it were. The political culture(s) within and through which any institutional arrangements must interact and take root are not addressed in their argument. Instead their position unduly privileges institutional arrangements per se. My own position regards the consociational arrangements as valuable, although not strictly necessary, aspects of the transitional process, but for reasons more directly connected to their implications for political culture.

Restructuration The argument that I am sketching here takes on board much of the valuable commentary provided by McGarry and O’Leary, but places it in a broader setting. In particular it takes account of the structuration of Northern Ireland’s political culture(s) over time and notes that their centrality to the construction of the political, in the multiplicity of particular sites, practices, and mentalities, has always overdetermined the prospects for change through 14

See pp. 43–44.

Transforming the political

245

institutional rearrangements. To say this is to grant that there are always interactive effects between institutional arrangements, with the incentive structure that they establish and the internal reorganization of political culture(s). However, what is at stake in such overdetermined processes within the complex field of political contestation is, ultimately, the reorganization of political culture, such that real, substantive change is achieved and instituted at the deep level of common-sense understandings about the proper way to construct self and other and perform the political. The power-sharing arrangements in contemporary Northern Ireland are best regarded as an efficient device through which internal governance over a limited set of significant domains, such as policing, health, and education, can be exercised through a governmental arrangement with multiple checks and balances. These internal arrangements in themselves could not have produced a significant change in community relations. Their success was reliant on a corresponding transformation within the political cultures that predominated in the North. This transformation is best understood as a piecemeal process of restructuration in which the many specific initiatives and pressures documented by McGarry and O’Leary, and others, slowly and with many setbacks, created the ground upon which political leaders could risk compromise and deal making without being regarded as thereby traitorous, as had so often been the case in the past. Indeed, not only could such risks be taken under the emerging, new dispensation; in order to qualify as a proper and legitimate player within the new, no longer zero-sum game, political leaders needed to take such initiatives and risks. Otherwise they, and their party and constituency, would find themselves watching from the sidelines. As McGarry and O’Leary nicely comment by way of illustration, “the default to power sharing was no longer simply direct rule, but direct rule with an increasingly green hue.” Hence, Ian Paisley’s recognition that, as they put it, “the danger of increased British– Irish cooperation persuaded him to accept power sharing with Sinn Féin.”15 Almost a decade earlier, during the political campaign in Northern Ireland concerning endorsement or rejection by referendum of the Good Friday Agreement, Ian Paisley was interviewed by Mervyn Pauley regarding his campaign for the “no” vote. The following exchange ensued. INTERVIEWER:

But generally you would agree with the principle that each individual must vote according to conscience on this Agreement? PAISLEY: No, I do not agree with that at all because you wouldn’t have a unionist conscience if you voted Yes. I believe that any unionist that votes Yes is voting against the very basis of unionism and any unionist that votes Yes and claims to have a good conscience, he has a conscience seared with a hot iron, he should be in the pan-nationalist front and be honest, he’s flying a pirate flag.16 15 16

See pp. 43–44 (both quotes). M. Pauley, “New deal interview – Ian Paisley,” Belfast Newsletter, May 16, 1998.

246

John Cash

Here we see a striking instance of the friend–enemy distinction and its centrality to Northern Ireland’s political culture. Even fellow unionists were cast into the enemy camp by Paisley if they entertained the prospect of power sharing and a fuller recognition of the Irish dimension in Northern Irish politics. The shock effect of Paisley’s “no” proceeds from the fact that the question is raised from within the well-understood presumptions of a functioning liberal democracy, in which disagreement amongst members of the same political community does not in itself generate an us/them, friend/ enemy split of the kind employed by Paisley. In miniature this exchange captures the internal qualitative variation within the political culture of Northern Ireland. If Pauley’s question proceeds from within the commonsense assumptions of a liberal inclusivism, Paisley’s response, in which mere difference is construed as both marker and rationale for repudiation and disentitlement, derives from an alternate form of the political culture; one that is persecutory and exclusivist and that had been deeply embedded into the common sense of political discourse and calculation since the inception of the Northern Ireland state.17 Yet by 2007 Paisley was prepared to take his position as First Minister in a power sharing government in which the Deputy First Minister was a member of Sinn Féin and a former leading member of the Irish Republican Army. Paisley’s progress is a telling instance of a movement towards adversarial politics previously undertaken by others on the route towards a displacement of the friend–enemy distinction.18 These instances illustrate some significant aspects of the internal structure of Northern Ireland’s political culture. As I have argued at some length elsewhere, both unionist and nationalist/republican ideology bore the heavy mark of their history of conflict as an internal feature of their organization.19 Given the instituted and persisting pattern of material and symbolic interests within Northern 17

18

19

For a fuller discussion of this interview see J. D. Cash (2002) “Troubled times: Changing the political subject in Northern Ireland,” in V. Walkerdine (ed.) Challenging Subjects: Critical Psychology for a New Millennium, New York, Palgrave, especially pp. 92–93. An earlier version of this chapter is available online at http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/conflict/cash98.htm Addressing the Independent Orange Order demonstration in Portrush in July 2006, Paisley said of Sinn Féin: “No unionist who is a unionist will go into partnership with IRA/Sinn Féin. They are not fit to be in partnership with decent people. They are not fit to be in the government of Northern Ireland and it will be over our dead bodies if they ever get there” (quoted in “Belfast march passes peacefully,” BBC News, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/northern_ireland/ 5174000.stm). Yet in his video interview with Ed Curran of The Belfast Telegraph, Paisley has made it clear that, since becoming First Minister, he has been able to work effectively with Martin McGuinness. Describing their relationship as a “work-in” and not a “love-in,” Paisley uses terms such as “courteous, honest, straight and forthright” to describe their meetings. McGuinness, for his part, has commented that there has “not been one angry word” and that they have “a cordial, civilised, positive working relationship” although for most of their lives they had “detested” each other; see D. McKittrick, “No more ‘Dr No’: Meet the new Ian Paisley,” Belfast Telegraph, November 15, 2007. Curran’s interview is in an online video format and can be viewed at www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/tv/article2628998.ece Cash, Identity, Ideology and Conflict.

Transforming the political

247

Ireland, the mutual, if unequally distributed, insecurity of both communities (the problem of the double minority), and the related competing claims over sovereignty, the political cultures within Northern Ireland both inherited and reiterated exclusivist forms of common sense regarding “the political.” At the same time, alternate, inclusivist forms of political culture were always copresent, if typically subordinated. These subordinated forms have slowly found fuller public expression through an array of social institutions that have emerged as sites of reconciliation and/or transformation, including the integrated schools and those voluntary associations, non-profit agencies, and community organizations pursuing a “politics of civil society” agenda.20 They have also found support in the mundane cosmopolitanism of those business enterprises and voluntary associations whose scope of operations ranges beyond the local. However, the Agreement has also delivered institutions within which pragmatic inclusivism is required, if those institutions are to function. This is a real peace dividend, even if it is a compromised one. The Assembly and Executive have instituted a complex set of rules and incentives, but also an accompanying, requisite political culture. In order to function, the Assembly and Executive require capacities for the construction and performance of the political that involve the abilities to compromise, to regard the political adversary as equally entitled, to tolerate difference, to handle complexity, and to shift perspective. Hence, in order to function effectively within the parameters of power and authority established by these institutions, their members must perform the political according to the mandates of this accompanying inclusivist political culture. Of course, as soon as they begin to do so, they risk losing legitimacy within their own party or community in so far as that site is still dominated by an exclusivist political culture. The political leaders of such predominantly exclusivist institutions are confronted by the dilemma of distorted communication. To maintain legitimacy at home, as it were, in the intra-group context, they must continue to adhere to exclusivist scripts and performances. Yet, within the new political institutions such scripts and performances are only disruptive. They may offer short-term gains, but they are disabling within the calculus of the new regime of power. In place of friend–enemy constructions that split the field of social relations into the proper and improper, the entitled and excluded, this inclusivist political culture constructs the political opponent as an equally entitled adversary. The risk for political leaders is that adherence to this new lingua franca within the institutions founded by the Agreement will threaten their legitimacy within the intra-group context.21 At

20

21

For a fuller discussion of these institutions see R. Taylor (2001) “Nothern Ireland: Consociation or Social Transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, especially p. 43. For a fuller account of the dilemma of distorted communication within and between political groupings see Cash, “Troubled times.”

248

John Cash

the same time this risky and testing situation is one in which significant change can be achieved and instituted, if the dilemma of distorted communication can be resolved through the successful insistence, by political leaders, that these new rules are the ones that will now prevail; that they are proper. This dilemma of distorted communication has confronted the leadership of Sinn Féin, the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), and the DUP and is evident in the political fate of David Trimble, for instance. However, it is clear that even the leadership of the DUP has finally adapted sufficiently to the new regime to take their place as active participants. If the Assembly and Executive are to function effectively, this will require at least a pragmatic acceptance of the rules of adversarial politics at the elite level and this, in turn, will eventually require a similarly pragmatic acceptance within the broader intra-group contexts. The other alternative is de-legitimation, within the group or party, of those elite members who perform the political as adversarial in the inter-group context. This remains a strong constraint and may lead, at testing times when highly contentious issues are at stake, to a reversion to exclusivism, with all the risks which that entails within the intergroup setting. The internal consociational arrangements are double sided, as it were. They are both enabling and constraining. Enabling of change in so far as they require the performance of the political as adversarial in order to function; similarly enabling of change in that adherence to adversarial politics is a prerequisite for the exercise of the power and authority that membership confers within the calculus of the new regime. Yet, constraining in so far as they tend to perpetuate the pre-eminence of the traditional political identities, although now reorganized in a qualitatively different, inclusivist form. This qualitative reorganization is not a negligible virtue.

Concluding comments Let me bring these considerations to a final focus around the issue of identities as relatively fixed or fluid. According to McGarry and O’Leary the political science and related literature is divided. As they put it, “integrationists invariably insist that identities are malleable, fluid, soft, or transformable, whereas accommodationists think that in certain places and times they may be inflexible, resilient, crystallized, durable, and hard.”22 Advocates of consociationalism take due account of inflexible and durable identities whereas its critics unduly ignore these stabilized identities and hold to a presumption of fluidity, it is claimed. In passing I might note that a striking absence in this debate is any systematic engagement with psychological theories and their extension into the analysis of social and political relations. The understanding of political culture and its relation to political identities (and identifications) that I have drawn on in my discussion is critically informed by the Freudian account of group psychology and its Kleinian 22

See p. 17.

Transforming the political

249

extensions, Butler’s account of passionate attachments, performativity, reiteration, and the psychic life of power, and Bourdieu’s and Giddens’ account of structuration – as Giddens has termed the process of reiteration.23 In brief, this approach highlights, first, that political identities are always the product of the interaction between ideology and subjectivity, hence the characteristics of the political cultures through which identities for the moment are formed are of paramount significance. Their internal complexity and modes of organization warrant close attention. Second, this approach also stresses that political identities – even those that appear and feel most “primordial” – are always in process and, hence, open to reorganization. This potential for change inherent in identity as a process of identification is usually unrealized, as the process of reiteration or structuration typically plays itself out as, seemingly, mere reproduction. However, the fact that such political identities are reiterated through place and time, and hence are open to the altering effects of prevalent contingencies, is a critical consideration if the politics of change is to be well understood. And third, it is recognized that these same political identities are often the object of passionate attachments. In situations such as Northern Ireland (which inherited a conflict of ideologies, identities, and national aspirations contained within a regional governmental structure that was contrived so as to guarantee unionist supremacy and nationalist subordination for so long as those political identities remained central and salient) passionate attachments were typically formed to one or another of the two principal political identities. Moreover, the mode of these passionate attachments was typically exclusivist. The critical change under way in Northern Ireland is the slow, piecemeal displacement of exclusivist political cultures and a turn towards inclusivism and an adversarial politics that it supports. This restructuration of political cultures has been the product of a multiplicity of interacting external and internal processes. The internal consociational institutions have contributed to the necessary sense of security (or reduction of insecurity) upon which the emergence and consolidation of inclusivist political cultures could be based, yet they are of less importance in this regard than are the east–west relations between the UK and Ireland and the internal security-enhancing measures, for all citizens, such as reform of the police service and the demilitarization of state and paramilitary forces. As I have argued, McGarry and O’Leary appear to agree with this ranking of significance. I have suggested that the internal consociational institutions have proved an efficient, yet not “necessary,” mechanism for the promotion of a constrained adoption of adversarial politics within the principal political parties and their constituencies. More significant, and necessary, have been the coordinated initiatives of the sovereign powers and their major confederates, the United States and 23

Cynthia Burack characterizes this and related approaches as instances of “psychoanalytic political theory.” See C. Burack (2004) Healing Identities, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, ch. 2.

250

John Cash

the European Union, and the reception of these initiatives within an array of internal institutions and processes. Together, these have orchestrated and supported the emergent consolidation of the previously subordinated inclusivist, democratic political culture. Of themselves, consociational institutions could not have effected such a change. However I do not agree that the downside of the internal consociational institutions is as severe as the “integrationists” argue; indeed these institutions can serve a valuable function. These two conclusions are internally related. The limited scope of the powers of the Assembly and Executive and their containment within a confederal arrangement between the sovereign powers, allied with the pragmatic and functional requirement to perform the political within the Executive as adversarial rather than as friend–enemy, opens space for a politics beyond the traditional identifications. If the dominance of the friend–enemy distinction coded the political as singular, as I have argued, its emergent displacement opens the possibility for the multiple coding of the political in which novel identities can be performed and transacted, as is already occurring. Should any of the parties involved in internal power sharing attempt to reactivate the friend–enemy distinction, they would place the internal consociational institutions under threat. Over time, these institutions and their constituencies will need to internalize evermore thoroughly the mentalities and practices of adversarial democracy. Should one or more parties refuse to do so they would risk their own exclusion from authorized power through the proroguing of the local institutions and the extension of the east–west confederal powers. However, in so far as they adopt and internalize the adversarial political culture, within their limited scope of power and authority they will thereby assist in opening further spaces for the multiple coding of identities and identifications. Most significantly, these multiple codings of identities will be driven and supported, principally, by processes beyond the scope of the consociational institutions. Processes of reflexive modernity such as individualization and mundane cosmopolitanism can begin to produce their transformative effects within the now multiply coded field of the political, without being disciplined and defeated, as in the past, by a political process involving the recurrent reimposition of the friend– enemy distinction as master signifier. Northern Ireland bears the scars of the Troubles embedded within its segregated communities and institutions and the identities they support. According to Shirlow and Murtagh, in the period since implementation of the Agreement, “violence has shifted away from paramilitary and state assaults towards a more sectarianised and repetitive violence of interface rioting and attacks upon the symbols of tradition such as Orange Halls, GAA [Gaelic Athletic Association] property and churches.” They claim that this “growth in new and more explicitly sectarian forms of violence has polarised an already divided society” and regard this growth as “being primarily driven through a political process that rewards resource competition

Transforming the political

251

between the dominant political parties.”24 My own argument recognizes this growth in localized sectarianism, but regards it, contrary to Shirlow and Murtagh, as an effect of the relative decoupling of such localized conflict from the more formal political process and its accompanying public discourse, now performed within the expanded field of a multiply coded political culture. Such multiple coding opens up issues of choice, especially with regard to identity. In effect, the individualization process, which had previously been constrained by the pervasiveness of the friend–enemy discourse, is granted greater scope within a multiply coded political culture. If these newly released degrees of freedom persist, over time this will prove a major factor in the transformation of social and political relations within the array of social institutions. However this expansion of choice can have an underside in the settling of identity issues through the performance of various “atavisms,” such as those documented by Shirlow and Murtagh. This reactive activation of passionate attachments to established identity forms offers one answer to the insecurities released by the prospect and actuality of change, especially for those communities and individuals who do not recognize a desirable or even acceptable future under the new dispensation. Such a response is not universal, of course, but rather is confined to the most vulnerable, least adaptable communities and individuals, those for whom the new dispensation offers few obvious rewards of a material or symbolic kind. This is exactly the field in which the voluntary and community organizations and others can work for the eradication of the lingering disfigurements of the past, now freed to a significant degree from the recurrent trumping of their initiatives by the persistent dragging of the containing political culture back into the friend–enemy formation. Some circles may be squared, after all. Such is the prospect for Northern Ireland.

24

P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press, p. 3 (all quotes).

13 Sunningdale for slow learners? Towards a complexity paradigm Adrian Little

Complexity, paradigms, and path dependence Séamus Mallon’s famous comment that the 1998 Belfast Agreement in Northern Ireland should be regarded as “Sunningdale for slow learners” amounts to more than an earthy witticism.1 It was primarily intended as a reminder to the opponents of the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP, Mallon’s party) that, unlike them, it had been supporting forms of power sharing fairly consistently during “the Troubles.” However, on a much deeper level, it also points to one of the most significant issues in contemporary democratic theory, namely, the paradigmatic nature of conceptions of democracy in specific contexts and the path dependence that they can enshrine. Complexity theory has emerged in recent years as a significant interpretation of contemporary democracy at least in part due to its interpretation of path dependence.2 It is a theory that suggests that political decisions – and the structures and policies that they establish – create paradigms which future political actors must interact within and engage with if they want to establish a new paradigm. In Northern Ireland then, the path to the Belfast Agreement was not one whereby most political actors became slowly convinced that the SDLP and others involved in the 1974 powersharing initiative had been right all along. Instead, rather than adhering to the notion of a Damascene conversion of the erstwhile antagonists in 1

2

This is a reference to the Sunningdale Agreement in 1973 which paved the way for the formation of the short-lived, power-sharing Executive that operated in Northern Ireland in the first half of 1974. On complexity theory, see A. Little (2008) Democratic Piety: Complexity, Conflict and Violence, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. Useful contributions to this growing body of work include P. Cilliers (1998) Complexity and Postmodernism: Understanding Complex Systems, London, Routledge; P. Haynes (2002) “Political science and complexity,” in A. Finlayson and J. Valentine (eds) Politics and Post-Structuralism: An Introduction, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, pp. 145–58; J. Law and A. Mol (eds) (2002) Complexities: Social Studies of Knowledge Practices, London, Duke University Press; N. Thrift (1999) “The place of complexity,” Theory, Culture and Society 16(3), 31–69; J. Urry (2003) Global Complexity, Cambridge, Polity Press; and D. Zolo (1992) Democracy and Complexity: A Realist Approach, Cambridge, Polity Press.

A complexity paradigm

253

Northern Ireland, complexity theory suggests that the Sunningdale initiative helped to establish a prism through which many dominant interpretations of Northern Irish politics have since been filtered. The work of John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary has been part of the dominant paradigm and has played a significant role in its reproduction. This chapter does not challenge their arguments on that level for it is difficult to oppose the pragmatic logic that a form of power sharing or consociationalism was the only game in town during the peace process. Instead, I want to oppose the narrow dichotomy that has emerged between those who support and those who oppose the Belfast Agreement and its aftermath. I want to suggest that the dominance of consociationalism as the major interpretive mechanism in Northern Ireland might have foreshortened the range of possibilities in assessing what democracy in Northern Ireland might look like. In short, I want to investigate the implications of complexity theory in Northern Ireland and the constraints on the democratic imagination that might emanate from the dominance of consociationalism. In other words, I do not oppose consociationalism per se as a pragmatic response to the need for political accommodation in Northern Ireland. However, I do want to challenge its impact on how democracy might be conceived differently – especially as consociationalism is likely to be superseded as an appropriate form of political organization at some time in the future where contextual circumstances are different. McGarry and O’Leary are correct to emphasize the biodegradability of consociations,3 but they neglect the pathdependence argument of complexity theory and the fact that the strategy of consociationalism is itself a part of a trajectory established before and after Sunningdale.4 Complexity theory offers an alternative for the analysis of Northern Ireland to the main paradigms in political science. It revolves around conceptual and methodological premises such as path dependence, emergent properties, and dissipative structures, and the limitations of linear, reductive readings of social and political problems. Complexity theory in social analysis borrows from notions of complexity in the natural sciences; in particular, the idea that the phenomena under investigation in the social sciences are involved in a disorderly, dynamic, and sometimes chaotic interaction with each other. As such, it is problematic to think of these phenomena as static or to imagine the resolution of political issues through the reduction of these issues to their component parts. Social and political issues do not arise in a vacuum and it is therefore problematic to think about their resolution in isolation from their grounded experience and its 3 4

See p. 69 See the comments of Ruane and Todd on the limitations of the idea that the Belfast Agreement should be understood as “Sunningdale for slow learners”; J. Ruane and J. Todd (2007) “Path dependence in settlement processes: Explaining settlement in Northern Ireland,” Political Studies 55(2), 253.

254

Adrian Little

constant evolution. Complexity suggests that political actors can never fully comprehend the issues that they have to address due to the dynamic interaction of variables that are constantly changing. Thus, the decisions that are made or policies enacted will themselves be part of an interactive dynamic with elements that have their own historical trajectory and other complex phenomena in the present. In other words, no political decisions can be made with full knowledge of the complex interaction of a multiplicity of variables and thus the decisions that are taken (on an imperfect foundation) will contribute to the emergence of a new range of issues that need to be addressed. On this view, contrary to much conflict resolution literature, political decisions never resolve issues although they can contribute to a change in their dynamic. For complexity theory, however, we need to understand that a changed dynamic is likely to give rise to the problems of the future. This relates to the concept of emergent properties whereby social and political action gives rise to new issues or changes the trajectory of an issue in unpredictable ways. Thus, complexity favours non-linear readings of political action whereby no assumptions can be made about the outcomes of decisions that are taken. Rather than conceiving of political practice in a linear fashion, it suggests that actions loop back reflexively onto the social and epistemological structures which helped to give rise to them. In turn this can lead to unintended and unpredictable consequences as political practice generates properties which emerge as a consequence of the unforeseen interaction of different variables. In complexity theory this is understood in terms of “dissipative structures” whereby political action always establishes new issues and problems not just in the interaction of variables in the present but also in the past. The kind of order suggested by path dependence is simultaneously accompanied by the disorder of emergent properties and dissipative structures. Clearly then, complexity is not the same as chaos – it contains elements of the orderly and the disorderly together in unpredictable engagement with each other. What are the implications of these ideas on complexity for politics in Northern Ireland? The theory of complexity is relatively uncharted water in the analysis of Northern Irish politics although it has recently emerged (albeit not explicitly) in the work of Joseph Ruane and Jennifer Todd.5 They examine the notion of path dependence as a crucial factor in a contextualized understanding of the conflict-settlement process, focusing in particular on the idea that “the Irish/Northern Irish conflict is driven by a system of relationships that emerged at a particular historical conjuncture and then reproduced itself over time.”6 This is a valuable contribution in making clear the historical trajectory of the dominant paradigm of understanding Northern Ireland. It also reinforces the importance of 5 6

Ruane and Todd, “Path dependence in settlement processes.” Ruane and Todd, “Path dependence in settlement processes,” p. 448 (original emphasis).

A complexity paradigm

255

contextualization in any sophisticated approach to political conflicts. However, like many analyses of Northern Ireland, Ruane and Todd centre their argument around the historical dimension of complexity, that is, the way in which the parameters of political debate in the present emerge out of an interaction of contemporary and prior events to frame current understandings. But, as noted above, path dependence is only one aspect of complexity theory. Ruane and Todd say little about the future dynamic that emanates from complexity particularly in the concepts of emergent properties and dissipative structures. By taking only one aspect of complexity – the historical dimension – we lose sight of the future orientation. In other words, Ruane and Todd fail to emphasize the ways in which our current actions and decisions not only reinforce and reproduce the dominant paradigm, namely consociationalism, but that they give rise to new dimensions of the problems we encounter today. Path dependence does not just project political actors along a certain trajectory within a specific context; it also generates new complexities which are not predictable and which are part of the emergence of new disparate contexts. Understanding complexity in Northern Ireland crucially involves realization of the historical origins of the conflict and the ways in which they established the parameters of debate today, but it also involves awareness of the creation of a cycle or loop of new problems that act reflexively on that historical trajectory and the conditions of the present. What this entails is that there are ways in which we can view the dominant paradigm in Northern Ireland as predictable but that does not mean it is static. Rather, an approach informed by historical aspects of complexity alone will be ill-equipped to make sense of the emerging issues of today which, while partially impelled by the decisions of the past, also emerge unpredictably from the non-linear interaction of a multiplicity of variables in the present.

Three spheres of complexity Democracy and liberalism In the first chapter to this volume McGarry and O’Leary state clearly their adherence to a liberal understanding of democracy and a liberal model of consociationalism. Thus, for example, they begin their argument not by suggesting that approaches to the Northern Ireland conflict are exhausted by the alternate strategies of integration and accommodation but that these are the “two broad and principled choices for managing diversity that are compatible with liberal values.”7 Right away then we must assume that their argument be viewed through a liberal lens, implying, presumably, a concern for the rule of law, the need to protect individual freedoms, advocacy of a model 7

See p. 15, emphasis added.

256

Adrian Little

of political or social justice, and so on. The signposting of this overarching liberal paradigm is useful for it helps to rule out of the analytical paradigm approaches that may want to challenge the presuppositions of liberalism.8 This foreclosure of the critique of liberalism in Northern Ireland (parts of which, in fact, they might share) serves a purpose in enabling McGarry and O’Leary to articulate the case for consociationalism through a narrow, limited paradigm. Ironically, though, their case for accommodation might have greater force if they sought to challenge the liberal presuppositions of their integrationist critics.9 Instead, by remaining wedded to liberal presuppositions, they fail to grapple with arguments that might lead them on to rather different territory than their rigorous defence of the consociational approach. The presuppositions of liberalism are fused by McGarry and O’Leary with an equally loaded and contentious understanding of democracy – a charge which can equally be laid at the door of many of their critics. McGarry and O’Leary are rightly critical of some liberal defences of notions of participation, deliberation, and civility in contemporary democratic theory,10 thereby providing a counterbalance to the view that notions of “democratic deficit” can be rectified by an “institutional fix.” Nonetheless, their own defence of liberal consociationalism itself promises a version of the “institutional fix,” albeit one which they see as revisable and biodegradable. Thus, there is little engagement with the inabilities of democracies to enact the principles which underpin them. For example, they understand democracy as “an institutional arrangement, or regulative ideal, where members of a political community make decisions about their collective affairs as equals” without considering the presuppositions embodied in this definition.11

8

9

10 11

I am thinking in particular of approaches that have taken on elements of post-structuralist theory and those which employ discourse analytical techniques. See, for example, A. Clohesy (2000) “Provisionalism and the (im)possibility of justice in Northern Ireland,” in D. Howarth, A. Norval, and Y. Stavrakakis (eds) Discourse Theory and Political Analysis, Manchester, Manchester University Press, pp. 70–85; A. Finlayson (2006) “‘What’s the problem?’ Political theory, rhetoric and problem-setting,” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 9(4), 541–57; A. Little (2004) Democracy and Northern Ireland: Beyond the Liberal Paradigm? London, Palgrave; Little, Democratic Piety; and N. VaughanWilliams (2006) “Towards a problematisation of the problematisations that reduce Northern Ireland to a ‘problem,’” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 9(4), 513–26. Broadly, these approaches use the work of theorists such as Jacques Derrida and Ernesto Laclau to point to a sense of “radical incompletion” whereby attempts to think of institutional fixes which dominate modern political science fail to comprehend the inevitability of failure when we try to enshrine principles such as popular sovereignty or justice in political institutions. For hints on McGarry and O’Leary’s scepticism about some of the prominent liberal accounts, see their comments in Part I on Horowitz, Wilford, and Wilson in particular. See pp. 76–83. See p. 78. See p. 80.

A complexity paradigm

257

Certainly, democracy is often considered as a means of operationalizing popular sovereignty and of organizing society around a commonly accepted rule of law. But, for radical critiques of democracy infused by complexity theory, the composition of the populace is continually changing, the constitution of their collective affairs is always under dispute, and the extent of their equality is perpetually disputatious. For all commentators on Northern Irish politics, the controversial nature of the rule of law is always apparent.12 Of course, McGarry and O’Leary (and their critics) may be well aware of these issues but it makes it problematic to appeal to democracy as a justifying principle in the advocacy of a particular “institutional fix” in Northern Ireland as if there was some preordained consensus around the concept of democracy that all political actors coalesced around. McGarry and O’Leary centre their argument around “the normative literature on democracy,”13 when arguably there is a much broader (and interesting from a Northern Irish perspective) literature that challenges the fundamental assumptions and presuppositions of normative democratic theory. As Richard Bourke has argued, democracy is a major factor in the conflict in Northern Ireland rather than an unopposed means of resolving that conflict.14 The issue then is not one of seeking non-liberal or non-democratic answers to the questions that arise in Northern Ireland. Instead, the point is to highlight that the establishment of liberalism and democracy as the dominant structuring features of political debate frames the parameters of worthwhile debate and directs us towards certain answers to the questions we face. This ignores the path dependence that these assumed virtues have helped to establish and the way in which they foreclose alternative propositions. An interesting avenue that McGarry and O’Leary could pursue would be that there is a pragmatic argument for consociationalism which accepts some of the criticisms of their opponents. Thus, for example, they could say that consociationalism is not very democratic but that, given the majoritarian underpinnings of many theories of democracy, that is not a bad thing in the context of Northern Ireland. Instead, the liberal defence of consociationalism is couched in the same democratic language of their critics and that blunts the edge of their sword. Their argument might be much more persuasive if it was divested of considerations of democracy – as they quite rightly point out, too many of their critics are embroiled in the defence or manufacture of institutions which will supposedly give rise to the “right” results for democracy to flourish in Northern Ireland. If anything seems contrary to the spirit of democracy as imagined in classical theories and the 12

13 14

Paul Mitchell has noted how the standard definitions of a parliamentary democracy hardly apply in Northern Ireland: P. Mitchell (2001) “Transcending the ethnic party system? The impact of consociational governance on electoral dynamics and the party system,” in R. Wilford (ed.) Aspects of the Belfast Agreement, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 28–48. See p. 81. R. Bourke (2003) Peace in Ireland: The War of Ideas, London, Pimlico.

258

Adrian Little

work of contemporaries such as Jacques Rancière,15 it is the attempt to design political institutions so that they encourage certain voting patterns or facilitate the drive to a centrist consensus. Violence, security, and democratic politics While consociationalism tends to be advocated as a strategy by political scientists with a methodological disposition towards institutional design, McGarry and O’Leary quite rightly point out that the focus on political institutions has limited utility in conflict-ridden societies if it is not accompanied by a broader concern with wider contextual factors. They argue that this should include: the design of the police and security forces, the handling of paramilitary offenders, the demilitarization of both state and paramilitary forces, the integration of former paramilitaries into the workforce, transitional justice processes (such as truth commissions), the return of exiles and the management of refugees, new human rights protection mechanisms, economic reconstruction, and provisions for monitoring ceasefires.16 This is a notable list and indeed one of the great strengths of the Belfast Agreement was that it attended to many of these concerns. That said, however, it is interesting that McGarry and O’Leary frame their concern with these issues as part of a section on security. Indeed, this is an indication of the second dimension of the dominant paradigm that I want to draw attention to, namely, the particular framing of discourses of security and violence as distinguished from democratic politics. The complicated interweaving of democracy and violence can be understood from an approach infused with complexity theory as an inevitable by-product of the historical trajectory which has impelled Northern Irish politics, and the continuation of emotions, memories, and prejudices that they have generated. A complex understanding of the political sees it as entwined with and generative of emotive political concerns as opposed to the tendency of many liberals – particularly those inclined towards deliberative democracy – to imagine political scenarios in which useful engagement is predestined to give rise to consensus and/or rational truth. McGarry and O’Leary correctly stand back from these ambitious tropes that serve to legitimize specifically liberal readings of conflict situations and their potential for resolution, but I contend that their work remains bound within a security paradigm that also neglects the continuation of emotive politics in the complex environment of Northern Ireland. 15

16

For his most recent reflections on this theme see J. Rancière (2006) Hatred of Democracy, London, Verso; and for a discussion of his work on democratic disagreement see A. Little (2007) “Between disagreement and consensus: Unravelling the democratic paradox,” Australian Journal of Political Science 42(1), 143–59. See p. 45.

A complexity paradigm

259

The juxtaposition of democracy and violence in the dominant literature on Northern Ireland is problematic, given its violent origins and the intermingling of violence and formal political practice since its inception.17 Northern Ireland is not unusual in the perpetration of this anomalous dichotomy between democracy and violence, but it serves as a trope to underpin the validity of certain political actors and to undermine the participation of others. This discourse frames violence in a certain way. In particular, it elevates political violence to a privileged position in political analysis and draws attention away from continuing forms of violence. Obviously, sectarian violence in Northern Ireland has been significantly reduced in the last decade and this is to be welcomed. However, the security paradigm narrows our perceptions of violence, particularly that of a non-sectarian nature. Ultimately, McGarry and O’Leary are rather dismissive of issues related to class and gender as if the only way of measuring the significance of these issues was the performance of political parties solely focused on these concerns.18 However, it is in attending to these forms of social structuration (and others such as “race relations”) that we see the continuation of many less explicit forms of violence in Northern Ireland. The broader political paradigm in Northern Ireland, though, continues to be dominated by the constitutional prism, and the hegemonic understanding of violence remains located within the security framework. This is indeed a hangover from years of violent strife and helps to reinforce the path-dependent nature of political engagement in Northern Ireland. Not all political actors read the political issues solely within this paradigm however.19 While perhaps we should not be surprised at the focus on security concerns in the dominant discourses of Northern Irish politics, it is incumbent on political analysts to recognize how the security paradigm directs us towards specific strategies for settlement, many of which fail to develop a sophisticated account of the nature of complexity. The Belfast Agreement While much of the reaction to the Belfast Agreement and its aftermath has been couched in dichotomous terms (pro/anti, supporters/critics), a 17

18

19

For a discussion of democracy and violence in Northern Ireland, see A. Little (2006) “Theorizing democracy and violence: The case of Northern Ireland,” Theoria 111, 62–86. For more general studies that have influenced my position, see M. Foucault (2004) Society Must Be Defended, London, Penguin; and D. Ross (2004) Violent Democracy, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Arguably Sinn Féin is a party with a major interest in class politics, for example, and one that has been rather successful in recent years. For example, in interviews I carried out with representatives from Northern Ireland’s political parties in December 2006 to assess the nature of discourses of reconciliation, only the late David Ervine of the Progressive Unionist Party explicitly linked the notion of reconciliation to improvements in the socio-economic infrastructure.

260

Adrian Little

perspective informed by complexity theory must take a slightly more nuanced perspective. Importantly, a complex argument must take on board McGarry and O’Leary’s point that the Agreement should be viewed as revisable and that it was not and is not anathema to argue for the renegotiation of the Agreement. It is unlikely that renegotiation would involve a seriously different trajectory to that which has been established anyway, but it is important to register that moves to rework the Agreement’s provisions do not entail its wholesale rejection. In this sense, the Agreement should be regarded as a snapshot of the possible at a given point in the history of Northern Ireland, influenced, as McGarry and O’Leary make clear, by a wide range of factors. From a complexity perspective, however, it is vital to recognize that the Agreement reflected an established reading of the Northern Ireland conflict and was dependent to some extent on the influence that consociational thinking has had in the formation of that particular narrative. Any renegotiation of the Agreement would also be influenced by this trajectory and undoubtedly some similar provisions will be reproduced in future political accords. In terms of path dependence then, it is possible to identify a trajectory that fed into the dialogue that led to the Agreement, as well as the projection of that agenda into the future. The example of designation is emblematic of this process. McGarry and O’Leary recognize the significance of designation although not in a manner that highlights the dimension of complexity. The process of designation is one of the most controversial aspects of the Agreement precisely because the requirement of political actors to designate themselves as “nationalists” or “unionists” or “other” involves a location of those actors within the dominant paradigm of understanding Northern Irish politics. It reinforces notions of path dependence by suggesting that the maintenance of political institutions in Northern Ireland can succeed only by filtering political identities through the established definitions. The point here is not just that designation is a problematic process (although that may well be the case).20 Instead, it is more pertinent here to focus on its path-dependent nature and its reproduction of traditional trajectories in understanding Northern Ireland. Not only does designation require self-definition that reflects and reproduces the major ethno-national schism that has characterized politics in Northern Ireland, but it also ensures the element of continuity that is characteristic of complex understandings of path dependence. However, because the circumstances in which these trajectories are sustained is constantly evolving due to complex interactions with other emerging political and social phenomena, it is impossible for established pathways to provide watertight explanations to help navigate the complex present. In other words, complex systems generate new emergent properties but they simultaneously loop back on to older systems of knowledge which are consequently inadequate at 20

See Little, Democracy and Northern Ireland, for some reflections on the difficulties associated with designation.

A complexity paradigm

261

explaining the present. However, dominant systems are often hegemonic, which helps to explain why established forms of political knowledge are often inadequate in grappling with new conditions. In terms of designation, for pragmatic political reasons, traditional forms of categorization are used to facilitate political engagement in the present at a time when some of the resonances of those categories are less appropriate than they once were. In so doing we reproduce the divisions of the past in a way that has limited utility in making sense of the present and the future. Complexity theory alerts us to the existence of epistemological loops and the possibility that the ghosts of the past may come back to haunt us as we grapple with political conflicts. The view that the provisions of the Agreement were a transitory arrangement has been a controversial issue since 1998. Subsequent debates were frequently couched in the language of pro-Agreement and anti-Agreement positions, and this highlights the way in which political decisions help to reproduce the parameters within which they were established. As Ruane and Todd point out, the ambiguities in the trajectories imagined by the British and Irish governments gave rise to a context of insecurity that characterized many responses to the Agreement.21 This led to the development of an all or nothing mentality amongst the supporters of the Agreement and made the Agreement seem impervious to critical reflection in practice, with the corollary that perfectly reasonable arguments around renegotiating the Agreement (put forward by the Democratic Unionist Party in particular) were seen as beyond the pale. It was fairly clear then that the Belfast Agreement, marking as it did an end (of a kind) to a prolonged period of violent unrest and upheaval, had established a pathway upon which political development in the subsequent years would depend. The transitory nature of any political accord got lost in the euphoria surrounding the degree of (hitherto impossible) agreement that had been achieved in 1998. Simultaneously, the pathdependent nature of future politics was shrouded along with the realization that the emerging political context in Northern Ireland was also dissipating and changing to the extent that a purely historical understanding of political divisions and conflicts had only limited utility. An approach to the Belfast Agreement informed by complexity must emphasize the emergent properties that it gave rise to (such as invigorated support for non-centrist parties) and the dissipated, non-linear nature of political progress since then. It must also recognize the way in which it reflected and reproduced the established paradigm in Northern Ireland. However, as complexity theorists argue, this paradigm is not set in stone and the shifting context alluded to in notions of complexity gives rise to opportunities to reforge the political paradigm. As John Urry makes clear, against “linear models, the temporal patterning in which events or processes occur very significantly influences the way that they eventually turn out. … Causation can indeed flow from contingent minor events to hugely powerful 21

Ruane and Todd, “Path dependence in settlement processes,” p. 452.

262

Adrian Little

processes that through increasing returns then get locked in over lengthy periods of time.”22 In this vein, the dominant paradigm is deeply rooted in Northern Ireland’s social and political structures, but that does not mean that this is the only paradigm available. Indeed, complexity theory suggests that the dominant paradigm simultaneously generates the source of its reproduction and the seeds of its disintegration.

Conclusion: complexity and consociationalism While theories of institutional design are important facets of political science, it is also vital to recognize the ways in which contextual and structural factors can work to impede the ability of political institutions to achieve their desired objectives. This insight is evident in the work of Ruane and Todd who note the ways in which contextual phenomena “may subvert formal institutional rules” and register their belief that the “institutional provisions [established through the Belfast Agreement] were effective in producing agreement because of the context in which they were embedded.”23 This contextual dimension is something that McGarry and O’Leary recognize but it is fair to say that much of their analysis of the present and future of Northern Ireland retains a strong faith in appropriate institutional design as a primary method in developing forms of political accommodation. In justifying this approach, they have reflected and reproduced a dominant narrative in making sense of Northern Ireland, namely, that the situation should be understood only in terms of integration or accommodation. While these definitions and categorizations may be analytically useful, they are not sufficiently nuanced to reflect complexity theory and the possibilities of framing different modes of understanding in Northern Ireland. As befits their status in the academic study of Northern Ireland, McGarry and O’Leary have helped to establish a specific paradigm as the dominant one in Northern Ireland, but this paper contends that this paradigm is not definitive. Moreover it suggests that an approach informed by complexity theory may be more useful in making sense of the past, present, and future of Northern Irish politics. One of the first steps in establishing a complex paradigm in the analysis of Northern Ireland is the recent work on path dependence by Ruane and Todd. I have argued, however, that their approach is still locked into the dominant paradigm (represented here by McGarry and O’Leary) with its narrow focus on traditional ethno-national readings of Northern Ireland and the possibilities for conflict resolution. This much is evident in their discussion of political settlements as products of “critical junctures” which disrupt established paths.24 Path dependence on this view does not lock us into 22 23 24

Urry, Global Complexity, p. 54. Ruane and Todd, “Path dependence in settlement processes,” pp. 445, 447. Ruane and Todd, “Path dependence in settlement processes,” p. 454.

A complexity paradigm

263

conflict scenarios in perpetuity but, instead, shifts in the complex context permit openings that political actors can seize upon to advance resolution strategies. While there is merit in this contextualized approach, it assumes that “settlement” is a possibility. A less definitive approach informed by complexity would suggest that settlements are best understood as transient moments of relatively more successful conflict management. Ultimately, settlements reflect the conflicts from which they emerge as can be seen in many consociational arrangements typified, as we have seen, by processes such as designation in Northern Ireland. What becomes clear is that settlements reproduce elements of the conflicts that inspire them and as such contain a spectral dimension which is always ready to be reawakened. In reproducing aspects of conflict, settlements always contain the ingredients of their disintegration and, following Jacques Derrida, they can be seen to be populated by the ghosts of history.25 From a complexity perspective, the very language of settlement as an end to a process is therefore highly problematic. Rather than focusing on “critical junctures” where path dependence can be disrupted, a complexity paradigm might build on the work of post-structuralist thinkers like Slavoj Žižek to put forward the idea of “disjunctive synthesis” as characteristic of complex systems. “Disjunctive synthesis” suggests that, rather than placing our faith in the emergence of critical junctures, we recognize that what characterizes Northern Ireland is the “codependence of radically exclusive positions.”26 This co-dependence is evident not only in discourses of nationalism and unionism but also some of the dominant paradigmatic features that I have alluded to above (democracy/ terrorism, security/violence). The notion of “disjunctive synthesis” helps to explain the way in which elements of the dominant paradigm and the ethnonational division reinforce each other through the pejorative construction of the other. A complexity paradigm would be one in which the synthetic nature of these constructions was laid bare. In so doing complexity could demonstrate that the nature of the present is in some respects dependent on the pathways established in the past and that the properties of the future continue to emerge and dissipate in unpredictable ways from the complex situation of the present. Undoubtedly this complexity paradigm is characterized by uncertainty and contingency but, arguably, it provides an accurate reflection of the intersection of order and disorder that underpins Northern Irish politics today.

25

26

J. Derrida (1994) Specters of Marx, London, Routledge; see also S. Chambers (2003) Untimely Politics, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. S. Žižek (2004) Iraq: The Borrowed Kettle, London, Verso, p. 49.

14 Progressive integration (and accommodation, too) Ian O’Flynn

Introduction On any reasonable assessment, Northern Ireland has made tremendous political progress in recent years.1 Yet much more work needs to be done. Northern Ireland has democratic political institutions, including consociational institutions. But those institutions are still very new and no one can be sure how they will develop in the future. In the first part of this volume John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary express the hope that a richer form of democracy will develop in due course. I share that hope. I also agree with them that efforts to accommodate the interests and aspirations of British unionists and Irish nationalists will have a continuing role to play. However, unlike McGarry and O’Leary, I maintain that there might be even stronger grounds for optimism if, alongside accommodation, greater efforts were also made to foster a stronger sense of integration across society as a whole. I therefore reject the basic premise upon which McGarry and O’Leary base their contribution. That premise supposes that “democracies have two broad and principled choices for managing diversity that are compatible with liberal values,” namely integration or accommodation.2 As they define them, integration involves the promotion of a single public identity, whereas accommodation involves the promotion of dual or multiple public identities. But integration and accommodation are not mutually exclusive principles. On the contrary, democracy requires both. Integration matters to democracy because it encourages people to cooperate politically and makes the redistribution of goods and resources within the polity more acceptable. More 1

2

This chapter is primarily concerned with political integration and accommodation. It should be noted, however, that integration and accommodation may also relate to cultural, social, or even moral goods – for example, common sporting activities, common historical experiences, or shared philosophical norms. However, the basic point that I make in this contribution is untouched by this distinction: a good consociation should create space not just for the things that distinguish people from one another (accommodation), but also the things that bring them closer together (integration). See p. 15.

Progressive integration

265

generally, it matters because it makes it easier to deliver decisions that will satisfy all.3 At the same time, however, people may be unwilling to cooperate unless the ethnic, religious, or national groups to which they belong are also free to pursue certain projects of their own or have their distinct identity publicly recognized for certain political purposes. Under such conditions, it is simply wrong to claim that democracies must choose between integration and accommodation. No democracy can survive long unless, at some level, people share a single public identity. But in multicultural or multinational democracies, the political recognition of multiple public identities will also be required. In rejecting the basic premise upon which McGarry and O’Leary base their argument, I also reject their claim that consociation should be classed purely as a type of accommodation.4 It is true that the principle of accommodation features strongly in consociational thinking. But consociations can also embody, or be based on, a principle of integration. After all, some of the revisions proposed by McGarry and O’Leary would, as they themselves admit, take Northern Ireland’s consociational institutions in a more integrationist direction – for example, the proposal that important decisions should be made by weighted majority rather than by concurrent-majority voting.5 But then the obvious lesson to draw is that consociations should be designed, from the outset, with both principles firmly in mind, thereby avoiding the need for institutional reform at some future point. Of course, McGarry and O’Leary might argue that their proposals would not make Northern Ireland’s consociational institutions all that integrationist. But that is an argument about the proper balance that should be struck between political principles, not about which principles should be chosen in the first instance.6 David Russell and I pressed this basic point in the introduction to our edited collection on power sharing.7 Here, in this present chapter, I wish to cast the same point in a somewhat different light. One of the ways in which McGarry and O’Leary seek to show that consociation is a progressive research programme is by expanding the list of “favourable conditions” under which consociations might flourish (good international support, improvements in general security, etc.). No doubt this is important.8 Yet in my view, an equally important challenge is, as I have just suggested, that of showing 3

4 5 6

7

8

B. Barry (1983) “Self-government revisited,” in D. Miller and L. Siedentop (eds) The Nature of Political Theory, Oxford, Clarendon Press, p. 141. See pp. 16–17. See p. 73. But see T. Hadden (2005) “Integration and autonomy: Minority rights and political accommodation,” in I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (eds) Power Sharing: New Challenges for Divided Societies, London, Pluto Press, p. 33. I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (2005) “Introduction: New challenges for power sharing,” in O’Flynn and Russell (eds) New Challenges for Power Sharing, pp. 1–11. But see I. Lustick (1997) “Lijphart, Lakatos, and consociationalism,” World Politics 50(1), 107–108.

266

Ian O’Flynn

how both integration and accommodation might be realized within or across the same set of consociational institutions. Reframing the consociational project in such terms could enable advocates and critics alike to seek out new terms of debate and lay the old familiar arguments to rest. Those arguments are, in any case, exhausted. In what follows, I structure my comments around McGarry and O’Leary’s characterization of what it means to be an integrationist.9 That characterization has five component parts: (1) Integrationists aspire to construct a single public identity that supplants all other public identities; (2) Integrationists condemn ethnic or religious political parties and praise the virtues of political parties whose agendas cut across society as a whole; (3) Integrationists favour electoral systems that discourage the mobilization of parties around national, ethnic, or religious differences; (4) Integrationists endorse executive institutions that favour candidates who rise above national, ethnic, or religious faction; and (5) Integrationists frown on the delegation of public-policy functions to minority national, ethnic, or religious communities. Although each of these five claims may describe the views of some commentators on politics in Northern Ireland, they do not capture my understanding of what it means to be an integrationist. As I will argue, a commitment to the principle of integration need not entail a rejection of accommodation or the desire to do away with ethnic or national differences. In other words, integrationists need not be what McGarry and O’Leary term “post-national transformers.” To this end, I consider the above five claims in turn.

Integrationists aspire to construct a single public identity As I have said, there is a tradition in democratic thinking of arguing for integration on the grounds that integration makes it easier to deliver political decisions that will satisfy all. Yet according to McGarry and O’Leary, there is little point in insisting on integration in Northern Ireland, because the two main communities are already highly mobilized and hence are unlikely to “to assimilate, fuse, or dissolve into one common identity at any foreseeable point.”10 Accordingly, what is required for democracy to succeed in Northern Ireland is accommodation and, by extension, consociation. Their argument assumes that integration involves not just the creation of a single public identity, but a single public identity that supplants our more particular national, ethnic, or religious identities. Some people certainly do understand integration in this way – Rousseau is the obvious figure here, but the defenders of Irish republicanism and civic unionism, respectively, also seem to fit the mould. Yet integration need not be couched in such demanding 9 10

See, in particular, p. 16. See p. 26.

Progressive integration

267

terms. People may think of themselves as belonging to distinct groups while at the same time identifying with the broader democratic polity. For example, they might think of themselves as Flemish or Walloon but also as Belgian, or as Catalan or Galician but also as Spanish.11 No doubt, in deeply divided societies, people will tend to identify with their own group first. Yet over time, their sense of attachment to the broader democratic polity might grow and strengthen. Integrationists need only hold that this process of broader identification should not be left to chance, but should instead be actively encouraged as part of any democratic settlement. Although this understanding of the principle of integration is less demanding than the Rousseauan understanding, it seems open to at least two objections. First, it might be objected that although integration need not deny the importance of particular group identities, a single public identity will weaken or impair them. Consequently, it is hard to see why group members should be willing to engage in a process that will inevitably serve to undermine their most vital interests and cherished aspirations.12 This objection is short-sighted, however. As long as a single public identity is defined in terms of the kinds of values and institutions that one might normally expect to find implicit in the public–political culture of a democratic society, then it is hard to see why anyone should complain. If someone did complain, we would need to ask some serious questions not just about their commitment to democracy, but about the moral rectitude of their particular interests and aspirations.13 This response is consistent with an important, if often overlooked, aspect of the Belfast Agreement.14 In the “Declaration of support” with which it begins, those responsible for its implementation state their commitment to “partnership, equality and mutual respect,” and dedicate themselves “to the achievement of reconciliation, tolerance, and mutual trust, and to the protection and vindication of the human rights of all.” One can only assume that they saw no inconsistency between publicly committing themselves to (shared) democratic values of this sort and, simultaneously, to the (particular) interests and aspirations of their constituents. In other words, one can only assume that they saw no inconsistency between integration and accommodation – the one was not viewed as a challenge to the other. Of course, putting that dual commitment into practice continues to prove difficult. But that merely serves to reinforce my basic point: if consociational theory is to 11

12

13

14

D. Miller (2000) Citizenship and National Identity, Cambridge, Polity, p. 131; J. SpinnerHalev (2003) “Education, reconciliation and nested identities,” Theory and Research in Education 1(1), pp. 61–65. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 30–31. J. Rawls (1996) Political Liberalism, rev. edn, New York, Columbia University Press, pp. 100–101 and passim. The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multiparty Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf

268

Ian O’Flynn

be regarded as a progressive research programme, it should (inter alia) offer practical guidance with respect to how both principles can be reconciled within the same set of consociational institutions. Second, it might be objected that, although the principle of integration has its place, it is largely inappropriate in deeply divided societies in which the state is in question. Of course, some consociationalists also tend to have the state in mind when putting forward arguments for accommodation. But as McGarry and O’Leary enable us to see, accommodation need not be bound up with the state. In Northern Ireland, for example, accommodation involves not just the creation of consociational institutions that enable unionists and nationalists to share power, but also the creation of important transnational institutions that link them to their preferred sovereign power. Yet since accommodation can be meaningfully disentangled from the state, it is curious that McGarry and O’Leary do not stop to consider whether integration might be treated in a similar fashion. For instance, in his recent book on democracy in the European Union (a pluri-national place if ever there was one), Albert Weale shows that integration need amount to nothing more than “a shared set of intentions on the part of individuals in relation to common courses of action, where the intentions are underpinned by interlocking mutual sets of beliefs on the part of those individuals.”15 But since those common courses of action may take any number of forms or relate to any number of purposes, there is no particular reason why they must be located at the level of the state. They might just as easily be located at the sub-state level, the trans-state level, or the supra-state level. In my view, a genuinely progressive approach to consociational thinking would take this more flexible understanding of integration into account. It would recognize that integration involves not simply the creation of a single public identity, but a single public identity with respect to particular purposes. As such, it would recognize that integration, just like accommodation, can be disentangled from the state.

Integrationists condemn national, ethnic, or religious political parties Let us now turn to the claim that integrationists condemn ethnic or religious political parties and praise the virtues of political parties whose agendas cut across society as a whole. This claim is true of some critics of the Belfast Agreement, for example Donald Horowitz.16 As I read him, Horowitz, 15

16

A. Weale (2006) Democratic Citizenship and the European Union, Manchester, Manchester University Press, p. 41. D. L. Horowitz (2001) “The Agreement: Clear, consociational and risky,” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 89–108; D. L. Horowitz (2002) “Explaining the Northern Ireland Agreement: The sources of an unlikely constitutional consensus,” British Journal of Political Science 32(2), 193–220.

Progressive integration

269

just like many other American scholars, follows James Madison in arguing that political power should not be concentrated in the hands of particular factions and the parties that represent them, because faction can only result in political instability. Instead, society should be partitioned in such a way that political authority is dispersed across factions rather than within them, so that political parties will be forced to appeal to people in general rather than to some particular number of them.17 Those responsible for agreeing a political settlement for Northern Ireland took the opposite approach. The consociational institutions established under the terms of the Belfast Agreement are based firmly on the principle that power (or, more accurately, authority) should be shared between communities rather than dispersed across them. For example, the Agreement contains strong veto points designed to ensure that important political decisions cannot be taken over the heads of unionists or nationalists. Yet while the Agreement therefore affords unionist and nationalist political parties a privileged position within its decision procedures, the fact of the matter is that Northern Ireland is now enjoying a period of unprecedented political stability. Its major political institutions are taking root, and political violence is largely at an end. The more general security situation is vastly improved and there is every chance that justice will be devolved from Westminster at some point in the not too distant future. These positive developments show that the Madisonian argument against faction – or against ethnic or religious parties – is, to say the least, overstated. The reality is that accommodation (at least in the sense just described) is working in Northern Ireland. Yet these positive developments do not render integration irrelevant, since, as I have explained, democratic polities require some degree of internal unity or cohesion if they are to survive and flourish. The question, therefore, is whether there is an alternative conception of integration that does not condemn national, ethnic, or religious parties, or discount the contribution they might make to building a stable democracy. I maintain that just such a conception can be found in (or pieced together from) the work of John Rawls. Rawls argues that a society that is “stable for the right reasons” is one in which people share a commitment to the same political principles, and know that their basic political institutions satisfy those principles.18 Naturally, Rawls does not think that different people will necessarily share the same principles for the same reasons – for instance, the reasons why a religious believer might affirm the principle of toleration may be very different from 17

18

As Madison put it in “The Federalist No. 51,” the aim should be “to guard one part of the society against the injustice of the other part … by comprehending in the society so many separate descriptions of citizens as will render an unjust combination of a majority of the whole very improbable, if not impracticable”; A. Hamilton, J. Jay, and J. Madison (2001) The Federalist: A Commentary on The Constitution of the United States, ed. R. Scigliano, New York, Random House, p. 333. J. Rawls (1971) A Theory of Justice, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press, pp. 453–54.

270

Ian O’Flynn

the reasons why a secularist might affirm that principle. Nevertheless, the crucial point for Rawls is that a society that is stable for the right reasons rests not on a mere modus vivendi of the sort that accommodation alone might secure, but on basic political principles that are broadly shared and which can therefore serve as the focus of a single public identity.19 Rawls’s position is clearly integrationist. Yet in order to appreciate the real force of his position – and in particular why it does not entail the view that national, ethnic, or religious parties are inimical to democracy – one needs to understand something of the democratic ethos with which it is bound up. According to Rawls, recognizing others as political equals requires us to accept that those others can have reasons to hold their views as firmly as we hold ours. We should therefore make a genuine effort to understand the force of their views and to develop our own in a way that makes them responsive to theirs.20 This does not mean that we have to become milk and watery about the way we hold our views.21 But it does mean that, in accepting that other people have a political standing that is equal to our own, we should be willing to reflect seriously on what they have to say, rather than simply treating them as obstacles or enemies. Thus, on this Rawlsian understanding, what matters is not who we are but how we engage with one another as political equals. In so far as national, ethnic, or religious political parties are willing to appeal to political principles that democrats can accept, integrationists need have nothing to fear from them. Granted, not every political issue must be treated in this way – for example, it would be hard to imagine a democratic system that did not also rely on hard-nosed bargaining. But the point remains that shared political principles can serve as common points of reference to which people can appeal when discussing collective problems. In appealing to those principles, they also stand to learn a great deal about the character of their democracy – what it stands for, how it differs from others, what direction it should take in the future, and so forth. In other words, they stand to learn a great deal about the terms on which they share a single public identity.22 19

20 21

22

Rawls, Political Liberalism, pp. 143–44, 158–68. Of course, those principles will be subject to dispute. They serve, nonetheless, as common points of reference to which people can appeal when discussing the character of their democracy. Indeed, in some multicultural and multinational societies, political principles may be the only things that can play this role. Rawls, Political Liberalism, p. 62. Certainly Rawls describes the reasonable disagreements with which he is concerned in his book Political Liberalism as, among other things, “irreconcilable,” “incompatible,” “incommensurable,” “deeply divided,” and as offering “no prospect of resolution.” For a discussion, see P. Jones (2003) “Toleration and neutrality: Compatible ideals?” in D. Castiglione and C. McKinnon (eds) Toleration, Neutrality and Democracy, Dordrecht, Kluwer, especially pp. 104–106. B. Parekh (1999) “Defining national identity in a multicultural society,” in E. Mortimer (ed.) People, Nation and State: The Meaning of Ethnicity and Nationalism, London, I. B. Tauris, p. 66.

Progressive integration

271

Since I have defended this Rawlsian outlook elsewhere in my published writings, it is odd that McGarry and O’Leary should label me “a post-national transformer.”23 Having to justify their views by appealing to shared political principles might lead some nationalists to conclude that nationalism is not all it is cracked up to be. But appealing to common principles might just as easily convince others of the justice of their cause. It might even win them converts. Whatever the case, the point remains that, on a Rawlsian understanding, nationalists need have nothing to fear from integration, just as integrationists need have nothing to fear from nationalism. In what follows, I will show that consociational institutions can be realized in the light of this larger integrationist vision of democracy. I will also show that this vision is consistent with the need for accommodation.

Integrationists reject proportional electoral systems in favour of majoritarian systems In general, integrationists think that the consociational institutions established under the terms of the Belfast Agreement place too little value on the importance of fostering a single public identity. While I share this view, I also think that accommodation matters. Accordingly, the challenge is to show how both principles might be realized within or across a set of consociational institutions. Let us start, therefore, with the electoral system, and in particular McGarry and O’Leary’s claim that integrationists reject proportional electoral systems in favour of majoritarian systems. Some integrationists do argue in this way, on the grounds that because proportional-representation (PR) systems operate with a low threshold for election, parties know that they can get their candidates elected simply by appealing to their own group.24 This makes it very hard for moderate parties to compromise across group lines, or to work towards the common good, since hardliners will typically deride every attempt at compromise as a sellout of group concerns. Playing upon the fears and prejudices of group members in this way can, and often does, bring handsome electoral gains. But it also deepens divisions and makes the compromises necessary to the building of a single public identity very difficult to achieve.25 In response, those integrationists argue that deeply divided societies like Northern Ireland would fare much better if they opted for an electoral 23

24

25

See, for example, I. O’Flynn (2006) Deliberative Democracy and Divided Societies, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press; and I. O’Flynn (2007) “Review article: Divided societies and deliberative democracy,” British Journal of Political Science 37(4), 731–51. See, for example, D. L. Horowitz (1989) A Democratic South Africa? Constitutional Engineering in a Divided Society, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press; Horowitz, “The Agreement”; Horowitz, “Explaining the Northern Ireland Agreement”; and R. Wilson and R. Wilford (2003) “Northern Ireland: A route to stability?” Birmingham, ESRC. B. Barry (1975) “Review article: Political accommodation and consociational democracy,” British Journal of Political Science 5(4), 505.

272

Ian O’Flynn

system like the alternative vote (AV). Since AV operates with a majority threshold for election, which may be very difficult to achieve in mixed constituencies, it provides parties with an incentive to moderate their agenda and broaden their appeal. Of course, group members will normally vote for their own parties first. But they may be willing to give lower-order preferences to candidates from another group, if they are convinced that compromise is important or worthwhile.26 Thus, the argument is that in AV moderates can find a mechanism to make necessary compromises that may offset the sell-out argument. However, as far as Northern Ireland is concerned, the sell-out argument seems to have no great bite. Northern Ireland uses the single transferable vote (STV) form of PR. But as McGarry and O’Leary deftly show, STV has not led to increased polarization. On the contrary, there “is significant evidence that the policy differences between Sinn Féin and the SDLP have narrowed considerably since the peace process began, and since the Agreement,” whereas in “the case of the DUP, the differences between it and the UUP have never been stark.”27 Yet if STV has not led to a hardening of political attitudes, then the question remains as to why Northern Ireland should need AV. One possible answer is that AV promotes integration in a way that STV does not. This answer does make some sense. In certain respects, STV is an impressive electoral system. It enables voters to vote for any mix of candidates they prefer, for whatever reason they prefer them; it also allows them to prioritize those interests that they see as being of most importance to them, rather than, say, feeling compelled to vote strategically in the hope of impeding other interests.28 Yet the trouble with STV is that although it accommodates a wide range of views and interests, it has uncertain implications for integration. Under STV, political parties may decide to shape their agenda so that it appeals to others outside their group, but it provides them with no particular incentive to do so. In the language used by McGarry and O’Leary, they might simply see themselves as “tribunes” charged with maximizing their “group’s share of resources, extractable from participation in power-sharing institutions.”29 From any integrationist perspective, tribune politics is a very poor form of politics. In colloquial terms, it amounts to the view that people should look after number one. But that view discounts the fact that in many cases our lives will be inextricably intertwined – if our lives were not intertwined we would hardly need democracy. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that Northern Ireland will never grow to its full social, political, and even moral maturity until unionists and nationalists come to see that they should not be 26 27 28

29

Horowitz, A Democratic South Africa? pp. 177, 189–91. See pp. 55–56. R. Taagepera and M. Shugart (1989) Seats and Votes: The Effects and Determinants of Electoral Systems, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press, p. 27. See p. 57.

Progressive integration

273

indifferent to the interests of the other side.30 And yet the irony is that although STV has uncertain implications for integration, AV might be even more detrimental to the building of a single public identity. This is not just for the pragmatic reason that AV might never be agreed to by hardliners negotiating a democratic settlement. It is also for the normative reason that, in seeking to help moderates compromise across group lines, AV ends up privileging one point on the political spectrum over others. Consequently, it fails to treat all comers on an equal basis, which is democratically suspect. On my Rawlsian understanding, integration calls for a set of institutional mechanisms that make each position on the political spectrum take account of every other. But in order to take the views of others into account, those others must be present to speak for themselves – more prosaically, they must have a genuine opportunity to vote for representatives who share their views or who are capable of arguing on their behalf. STV meets this latter condition, whereas AV does not.31 Yet although STV therefore satisfies the principle of accommodation, it cannot ensure that people will take the views of others seriously, or try to defend their own views by appealing to political principles that those others can accept as fellow democrats. In other words, it may or may not satisfy the principle of integration. The upshot is that although STV satisfies the principle of accommodation, we need to look elsewhere in the political system to satisfy the principle of integration. One such place is in the rules for executive formation.

Integrationists endorse executive institutions that favour candidates who rise above national, ethnic, or religious faction I agree with McGarry and O’Leary that STV has played an important role in accommodating the interests and aspirations of unionists and nationalists, and hence in bringing stability to Northern Ireland. However, they are wrong to argue that the rules by which the Northern Ireland Executive is formed should also be driven by a concern for accommodation. In my view, those rules should be driven in the first instance by a concern for integration. This is not because I endorse executive institutions that favour candidates who rise above national, ethnic, or religious faction, as if candidates of this 30

31

As Martin Luther King put it in a speech delivered at Newcastle University the year before he was murdered, “there can be no separate black path to power and fulfilment that does not intersect white roots, and there can be no separate white path to power and fulfilment short of social disaster that does not recognize the necessity of sharing that power with coloured aspirations for freedom and human dignity.” Those who think that democracies can afford to choose between integration and accommodation would do well to reflect on the import of this quotation. For footage of King’s speech, see www.ncl.ac.uk/alumni/assets/documents/mlkfootage.htm According to John Stuart Mill, STV “secures a representation, in proportion to numbers, of every division of the electoral body”: J. S. Mill (1991 [1861]) “Considerations on representative government,” in J. Gray (ed.) John Stuart Mill: On Liberty and Other Essays, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 310. By contrast, AV secures only a representation of a majority, although the fact that AV is a preferential system complicates this claim somewhat.

274

Ian O’Flynn

nature were good in themselves. Rather, it is because democracy demands that ministers see themselves as accountable to everyone in society, whatever their own particular background. Of course, in some cases, decisions will favour particular groups – for example, offering tax breaks to businesses willing to locate in areas with high levels of unemployment may benefit one group over others. But the crucial point about those decisions is that if they are to be considered democratically legitimate, that is, legitimate in the eyes of people at large, they must be justified on terms that are accessible to everybody and which could in principle be accepted by anyone. This process of democratic justification is made much easier if ministers can appeal, individually and collectively, to a single public identity and the shared democratic norms and values that underpin it. Just like STV, the trouble with the rules for government formation laid down in the Belfast Agreement is that they have uncertain implications for integration, conceived in Rawlsian terms. Under those rules, ministries are allocated to political parties in proportion to their strength in the Assembly, according to the d’Hondt allocation mechanism.32 This mechanism ensures that any party that wins a significant share of seats, and is willing to abide by the Agreement, has a reasonable chance of gaining access to the Executive. It also means that parties get to choose, again in order of their strength, their preferred ministries, and to appoint individual ministers from within their own ranks.33 However, despite the fact that “each minister is required under the Agreement to behave in a non-partisan way, and ‘to serve all the people of Northern Ireland equally,’”34 d’Hondt alone provides them with no particular reason to behave in such a way. Of course, ministers might remember that the principle of political equality requires them to treat all interests with equal consideration and hence justify their decisions on terms that everyone can accept. But they might just as easily see themselves as “ethnic tribunes” whose duty it is to advance the interests of their own group, paying little more than lip service to the need for integration. Admittedly, ministers do not have an entirely free hand, since, as McGarry and O’Leary point out, they must “face an Assembly committee in their jurisdiction, headed by a representative of another party.”35 But although the committee system can hold individual ministers to account (assuming that no logrolling has gone on behind the scenes), what it cannot do is encourage a larger sense of collective responsibility on the part of the Executive as a whole. Now, McGarry and O’Leary think that the doctrine of collective cabinet responsibility is of dubious value in a deeply divided society. More 32

33 34 35

Presumably, independent candidates can never win a ministerial portfolio under d’Hondt, as they might do under some alternative executive formation rule. B. O’Leary (1999) “The nature of the Agreement,” New Left Review 233, pp. 69, 71, 95–96. See p. 74. See p. 79.

Progressive integration

275

specifically, they think that the need for collective responsibility needs to be weighed “against the need for minority ministerial representatives to have some independent initiative if power sharing is to be meaningful.”36 But this view is simply incongruous with democracy, and in particular with the view that decision makers are responsible to all of those who are bound by their decisions, not merely to some of them. Of course, McGarry and O’Leary may have in mind only those decisions that affect the minority. But presumably decisions of this sort will only constitute a small percentage of the decisions that a minister must make, at least in a system like Northern Ireland where groups are intermingled. (Segmental autonomy complicates this picture somewhat, although the general point still stands.) It is also curious that McGarry and O’Leary should want to claim that the doctrine of collective cabinet responsibility can “be tempered by introducing cross-community consent rules within the cabinet.”37 If anything, the doctrine can be strengthened by such rules, since they encourage ministers “to speak with one voice” and hence to see themselves as jointly accountable (which is, after all, the whole point of the doctrine).38 Since unionist ministers would know that they require the consent of nationalist ministers, and vice versa, the only proposals that would be agreed are those that are in the public interest (albeit conceived in lowest-common-denominator terms) and hence an important source of integration. But if cross-community consent rules can play this positive role within the cabinet, then arguably they can also play the same role in forming the cabinet in the first instance. Accordingly, I agree with Robin Wilson and Rick Wilford that executive formation should depend on inter-party agreement rather than automatic appointment, with ministers having to secure weighted-majority support from the assembly as a whole.39 In other words, executive formation should proceed just like it does in any other parliament, subject to the very rule that McGarry and O’Leary now argue should be used to decide key issues in general.40 This shift may encourage unionists and nationalists to behave in a more conciliatory fashion, and hence encourage greater political integration. It could also allow smaller parties and independent candidates to have at least some say in the executive-formation process, and hence would make that process much more “liberal.” McGarry and O’Leary argue that the primary virtue of d’Hondt is that it “reduces the transaction costs of bargaining over portfolios and promotes 36 37 38

39 40

See p. 79. See p. 79. G. Marshall (1984) Constitutional Conventions: The Rules and Forms of Political Accountability, Oxford, Clarendon Press, p. 61. Wilson and Wilford, “A route to stability?” p. 8. See p. 73. I argued for weighted majority in the first article that I wrote on the Belfast Agreement; I. O’Flynn (2003) “The problem of recognising individual and national identities: A liberal critique of the Belfast Agreement,” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 6(3), 145.

276

Ian O’Flynn

stability through being patently fair.”41 By contrast, a weighted majority would require parties to negotiate publicly, something which the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and Sinn Féin might be unable or unwilling to do for fear of losing votes at the next election. What is more, under a weighted majority, there could be no guarantee that the Assembly as a whole would ratify a coalition led by the DUP and Sinn Féin.42 Yet it is not at all clear why consociationalists should be particularly concerned by these considerations – or indeed why they are particularly unfair. As McGarry and O’Leary argue, a consociation requires joint government, involving all major communities, but not necessarily all major political parties.43 But since a consociation does not have to be maximally inclusive, there is no principled reason why the DUP and Sinn Féin must be in the government. A weighted majority would ensure that nationalists and unionists were in the government, which is all that consociation requires. Of course, there is always the question as to how the DUP and Sinn Féin might react if they were to find themselves outside government. McGarry and O’Leary imply that they might destabilize the system, just as extremists on the outside had destabilized the Sunningdale Agreement. But Northern Ireland has come a long way in the last three decades. Conditions are very different, and indeed, as McGarry and O’Leary show, far more favourable.

Integrationists frown on the delegation of public policy functions to minority national, ethnic, or religious communities Finally, let us turn to the claim that integrationists frown on the delegation of public policy functions to minority national, ethnic, or religious communities, and more generally on the consociational principle of segmental autonomy. Again, some integrationists do seem to wear a frown of this sort, particularly those who think, wrongly, that consociations presuppose a primordialist understanding of ethnic identity or who think that groups are not real.44 To be fair, some integrationists frown on segmental autonomy not for reasons of this latter sort, but because they worry about the treatment of some group members at the hands of others. Those worries are often justified. But the fact remains that, although some forms of accommodation may 41 42

43

44

See p. 61. Currently, the DUP and SF hold just over 56 per cent of the seats in the Assembly. If a weighted majority were set at 60 per cent, the DUP and SF could find themselves in the opposition. See p. 80. Also see, B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal and Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 12–15. See, for example, R. Brubaker (2004) “Ethnicity without groups,” in S. May, R. Modood, and J. Squires (eds) Ethnicity, Nationalism and Minority Rights, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, p. 51.

Progressive integration

277

be iniquitous, accommodation is required in multicultural and multinational societies nonetheless. However, the fact also remains that although accommodation is a necessary condition of stability in deeply divided societies, so, too, is integration: the failure to provide space for those things people share in common may be just as destabilizing as the failure to accommodate their differences. In this sense, integration and segmental autonomy are but two sides of the same coin, something which McGarry and O’Leary either fail to see or are not prepared to countenance. Take, for example, their comments about integrated education and social mixing more generally. As they note, the integrated education sector is growing, which indicates a desire for greater sharing. Yet, as they also note, the integrated sector still accounts for only three to four per cent of the school-age population.45 Similarly, while social attitude surveys suggest that people would like to live in mixed neighbourhoods, the reality is that people continue to live apart. For McGarry and O’Leary, these facts are proof, if proof were needed, that some policy functions should continue to be delegated to the group level, and that attempts to press for greater integration are misguided. Interestingly, McGarry and O’Leary conclude that “if there was evidence of a clear wish to mix socially and residentially, it would not be clear that this would obviate the need for – or be incompatible with – a political settlement that accommodated both groups qua groups.”46 I could not agree more; there would still be a need for accommodation. For example, there would still be a need to protect linguistic diversity (Irish and Ulster Scots) and to fulfil international legal obligations with regard to parental rights to education, specifically the right to religious schools.47 However, while they are right that evidence of a clear wish for greater levels of integration would not obviate the need for accommodation, they are wrong to brush the desire for integration aside in the way that they do. To say that people “express tolerant preferences but practise suspicion” is a surprisingly simplistic reading of the relation between politics and policy making.48 In no small part, the reason why nationalists and unionists live in separate spaces is because government agencies have focused on meeting housing needs rather than aiming to satisfy the additional public desire for “safe shared spaces” in which they can live together. Similarly, at least part of the reason why the integrated sector has remained limited in numbers is because the way in which these schools 45

46 47

48

Actually, the figure is closer to six per cent – small, perhaps, in percentage terms but far from small in reality when one per cent equates to more than 3,000 children and young people. See www.deni.gov.uk/facts_figures/documents/Compendium_new.pdf See p. 68. European Convention on Human Rights (1952) Protocol to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, Protocol 1, Article 2, http://conventions.coe.int/ treaty/EN/Treaties/html/005.htm See p. 68.

278

Ian O’Flynn

are created often involves significant sacrifice on the part of parents who desire such schooling for their children. The point therefore is this: If consociational arrangements are premised solely on a concern for accommodation, it is hardly surprising that the policies that flow from those arrangements should also promote accommodation and hence set aside whatever genuine desire for greater integration there may be. No doubt, it is easier to manage conflict than to try to resolve it, particularly if policy has followed the track of accommodation for many years. This has been the situation in Northern Ireland, even prior to the Belfast Agreement. However, it is surely the case that the challenge for a progressive theory of consociation is to strike a more appropriate balance between what the public may genuinely desire (integrated education and mixed housing) and what political pragmatism demands (the accommodation of competing national, ethnic, or religious aspirations).

Conclusion In this chapter, I have argued that accommodation and integration are not mutually exclusive principles. On the contrary, a good consociation can and should embody both. Yet this is not how McGarry and O’Leary see things. For them, consociation is a type of accommodation. But I think they are wrong. The basic institutional characteristics of a consociational democracy can be realized in the light of an indeterminate number of political principles, and hence need not be reduced to a concern for accommodation alone. In fairness, I should also say that I think many of their critics are wrong to deny the importance of accommodation. Again, democracy requires both integration and accommodation. In recognizing and accepting this dual requirement, consociational theory might move forward in new and interesting directions, and hence be seen as the truly progressive research programme that it really ought to be.

15 Ways of seeing? Consociationalism and constitutional law theory John Morison

Introduction Coming to this volume as a constitutional lawyer it is interesting to see in John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary’s eloquent and persuasive chapter evidence of a whole world that is only partly known to the writer. Of course there is a fair degree of overlap between what we might clumsily still refer to as political science and public law, particularly constitutional law. Indeed the work of McGarry and O’Leary is known and referenced in many constitutional law accounts. The problem is that this consideration is not reciprocated. This means that the authors are focusing with a very particular lens which, while it picks up very much of value, fails to bring into the field of view a number of important issues that a wider reading might bring to their attention. In particular, a foray into the world of legal scholarship might go some way towards remedying the rather narrow and formalistic conception of their subject matter. This seems focused almost exclusively on the high politics of political parties and electoral systems, institutions, and executives while simultaneously being taken up by very local issues and ad hominem concerns such as what they perceive Sinn Féin or the Democratic Unionist Party to believe or be willing to accept. Contrary to perhaps some expectations, legal scholarship can and often does take a broader perspective of its subject matter. Recognition of these approaches might perhaps assist in moving McGarry and O’Leary from their rather self-referential framework where commentators either declare for “accommodation” (or better are fully fledged consociationalists) and therefore side with them, or belong instead to one of their four species of “integrationists” who are forever in error. For the constitutional lawyer it is hard to recognize oneself as either fully in the consociationalist camp or, necessarily, as an integrationist. The reality is that many constitutional lawyers see things differently, perhaps are none the worse for this, and may indeed have something to offer even the most ardent consociationalist. The argument that will be sketched out here is that the terms of the debate as constructed by McGarry and O’Leary are in some ways strangely oldfashioned, formalistic, and top-down and that a reading of how some

280

John Morison

modern constitutional law theory approaches similar territory might widen the field under consideration. In particular, it might allow recognition that the constitution, like public power itself, operates at many levels both above and below the high politics of the Belfast Agreement, and that organizing the political parties together into a grand-scale constitutional framework is only part of the business of a constitution. There is a whole structure of legitimation, recognition and transition, partnership and practice, as well as, most importantly, a tool kit of rights and equality that can allow a genuinely endogenous, bottom-up form of constitutionalism to grow up in the space afforded by the achievement of a political deal. Indeed it could be said that the institutions exist to defuse the wider, quarrelsome “constitutional/sovereignty” issues and this provides the space for other elements of the Agreement to operate. The Agreement offers much more than simply a way of locking the main parties into a structure of government, and even in so far as it achieves this, it is not simply by the consociational nature of its constitutional design. Rather, as a fuller, properly legal reading of the situation provided by the Belfast Agreement and the Northern Ireland Act 1998 can show, the new dispensation offers some very significant and novel constitutional forms that have widespread implications for both the United Kingdom form of constitutionalism and that in the Republic of Ireland. In what follows, the point will be made that constitutional lawyers often address and acknowledge the value of the consociational framework but then generally they go on to develop other frameworks – ideas of an external constitution operating beyond simple ideas of sovereignty, transitional justice, constitutional moments, governmentality, and so on – which bring out a range of issues that may be missed if consociationalism is the only lens employed. Having offered modest suggestions towards widening the consociational agenda, issue will then be taken with McGarry and O’Leary’s own rather wayward characterization of the role of constitutional norms in what they describe as “the UK’s constitution-free system.”1 Constitutional thinking is in fact considerably more sophisticated than they allow.

What public lawyers do The suggestion that much of the discourse of constitutional lawyers does not place the split between accommodation and integration as overwhelmingly central to its concerns does not mean that there is a lack of awareness of the debate. Indeed Kevin Boyle and Tom Hadden have addressed the dichotomy directly.2 Other legal commentators acknowledge the approach before moving on to consider more closely some of its particular outworkings. In this way, for example, Christopher McCrudden takes up consociationalism as a foundation before moving on to consider in detail its consequences in 1 2

See p. 36. K. Boyle and T. Hadden (1994) Northern Ireland: The Choice, London, Penguin.

Ways of seeing?

281

equality law and minority rights.3 But by far the most common approach among those British or Irish constitutional lawyers who properly recognize the very important constitutional circumstances of Northern Ireland, is to simply to acknowledge the value of consociationalism as a way of understanding the political landscape and the role of constitutional design in making traditional formats of government work at the macro level. A consociational approach is very helpful in organizing the internal structures of traditional, formal government and is particularly constructive in providing a structure that can solve the thorny “constitutional issue.” However a method for carving up high political office among ethnic groups, along with a formal accommodation of conflicting identities, does not exhaust either the business of providing wider governance or the role of constitutionalism more generally as a way of conditioning how people live together. As Roberto Unger puts it, every conflict should find an institution appropriate to its level.4 The overblown, over-designed structure of government in the Belfast Agreement is certainly appropriate as a place to “park” the large-scale constitutional conflict. However there remains a constitutional job at a more elemental level in terms of working out the basis on which people will live together. In addressing the issues that remain after the grand-scale constitutional “fix” of the Agreement has been achieved, constitutional lawyers have adopted a range of approaches: from a focus on external constitutional norms and the idea of a “new constitutionalism,” to a concern with transitional justice, to foundationalist and anti-foundational approaches, as well as bottom-up approaches. These are considered briefly in turn.

External constitutional norms and “new constitutionalism” An important element is the recognition of external influences in making up the terms of the Agreement and the role of external agencies in brokering its achievement. This is brought out well by McGarry and O’Leary too and there can be no doubt that what Belmont et al. have referred to as “the clay for the constitutional designers” of the Agreement was distinctly international in origin.5 Further as McGarry and O’Leary note, there was an international cast of players involved in delivering the parties to the Agreement. This is 3

4

5

See, generally, C. McCrudden (2007) “Northern Ireland and the British Constitution,” in J. Jowell and D. Oliver (eds) The Changing Constitution, 6th edn, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 227–70; or more particularly C. McCrudden (2007) “Consociationalism, equality, and minorities in the Northern Ireland human rights debate,” in J. Morison, K. McEvoy, and G. Anthony (eds) Judges, Transition, and Human Rights, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 315–54, where consociation is a jumping off point to consider whether a bill of rights for Northern Ireland should include protections for identity and community. R. M. Unger (1987) False Necessity: Antinecessitarian Social Theory in the Service of Radical Democracy, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, p. 449. K. Belmont, S. Mainwaring, and A. Reynolds (2002) “Introduction: Institutional design, conflict management, and democracy,” in A. Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy: Constitutional Design, Conflict Management and Democracy, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 1.

282

John Morison

part of a strategy of “internationalizing” particularly difficult issues (such as weapons decommissioning) which were arguably beyond the political capacity of the local participants to agree upon amongst themselves. McGarry and O’Leary acknowledge the range of individuals from Canada, South Africa, Finland, and of course the United States, who provided what they term “benign external political interventions” on a number of the difficult issues.6 All of this, they rightly say, brought the Agreement closer and considerably facilitated its eventual accomplishment. They note too the importance of other governments, especially the US and the Republic of Ireland (although, as discussed later, they slightly misconstrue its legal foundation and perhaps its potential). Lawyers too have been quick to recognize the importance of external intervention in brokering the Agreement.7 However it is perhaps significant that this has been charted not only in terms of how it contributed to the eventual production of the political deal. Indeed, even during direct rule when a political deal seemed very distant, some legal analysts were anxious to point to the importance of international bodies and foreign governments in providing a way of bypassing both the sterility of local politics and the intransigency of Westminster. The argument was developed that whole areas of more progressive policy from equality legislation to agriculture, and from north–south relations, to equal pay owed more to pressure brought to bear on outside governments and agencies than to the British government and its succession of direct-rule ministers. In particular, and here the argument moves more directly into the legal arena, the European Union (EU) and the European Court of Justice provided something like an external constitution for Northern Ireland through the provision of values and indirect and direct mechanisms of enforcement. The EU was about more than simply the diversion of money through the structural funds or another forum for politics – although this was important. The legal aspect came to bite down directly on a range of what might be termed “constitutional issues.”8 European Community law moved from being concerned mainly with agriculture and product standards to a whole range of wider issues including equal pay and employment law, public procurement, and competition policy, as well as justice and home affairs and the environment. This outpouring of new standards was not simply an influence on UK law but, following the celebrated Factortame and Francovich cases, European jurisprudence was unequivocally part of UK law.9 Northern 6 7

8

9

See p. 38. See, for example, K. McEvoy and J. Morison (2003) “Beyond the constitutional moment: Law, transition and peacemaking in Northern Ireland,” Fordham International Law Review 26, especially pp. 978–85. G. Anthony and A. Evans (2001) “Northern Ireland, devolution and the European Union,” in C. Harvey (ed.) Human Rights, Equality and Democratic Renewal in Northern Ireland, Oxford, Hart, pp. 53–71. For an overview of the Factortame saga which, along with Francovich ruling, essentially cemented the influence of EU law in the domestic legal system, see P. Craig and G. De Burca (2007) EU Law: Text, Cases and Materials, 4th edn, Oxford, Oxford University Press, chs 5 and 6.

Ways of seeing?

283

Ireland benefited across a range of issues that were seen there to be “constitutional” and it did so in a way that might have been difficult if only domestic standards had applied. Even more directly, the work of the Council of Europe and the European Convention on Human Rights provide clear guidance on a range of “constitutional” matters arising directly from the security policies of the state.10 A whole variety of issues relating to a number of matters arising from policing the conflict, including arrest, internment, interrogation, and prison conditions, had a legal hearing via the European Court of Human Rights. The issues for determination ranged beyond the conflict with, in particular, an important case on homosexual rights.11 Of course in the pre-Human Rights Act world, the impact on the UK legal system was indirect but nevertheless in a legal form. These ideas of external influences and values were developed by legal commentators into a whole idea of “new constitutionalism.” In Reshaping Public Power the authors – Stephen Livingstone and I – took up notions of external norms as well as ideas relating to values existing both above and below the level of the state, and sketched out the “real” constitution in Northern Ireland over three historical periods.12 Surprisingly this was not only a tale of direct rule, and self-determination and democracy denied. The authors, along with other legal commentators, and in particular McCrudden,13 saw nascent signs of a constitution of values that perhaps provided indications not only of how legal forms that eventually were realized in the Agreement might come about, but also how these might influence UK constitutionalism more generally. In contrast to UK constitutionalism which generally saw issues in terms of parliamentary structures and sclerotic ideas of parliamentary sovereignty, this was an outsider account which focused on public power from whatever source – international, national, or local – and sought to democratize it. While some aspects of this new constitutionalism encompassed some of the ideas that are covered in consociationalism, there is much else besides.

Transitional justice More recently ideas of transitional justice have been useful to lawyers considering Northern Ireland. Whereas traditionally constitutionalism is viewed as foundational and forward looking, transitional constitutionalism looks 10

11 12 13

J. Morison and S. Livingstone (1995) Reshaping Public Power: Northern Ireland and the British Constitutional Crisis, London, Sweet and Maxwell, ch. 6; and, for an updated account, see C. Harvey (2007) “Protecting the marginalized?” in Morison, McEvoy, and Anthony (eds) Judges, Transition, and Human Rights, pp. 515–34. Dudgeon v. The United Kingdom (7525/76 [1981] ECHR 5 [October 22, 1981]). Morison and Livingstone, Reshaping Public Power, especially ch. 2. McCrudden, “Northern Ireland and the British Constitution,” and the earlier versions of this essay that appeared in previous editions.

284

John Morison

back to undoing problems of the past as well as laying foundations for the future. Indeed transitional justice has to date not been overly concerned with political structures, focusing instead on mechanisms of adversarial justice, truth seeking, reparation, and memorialization.14 But it does admit of the possibility of transformation. It is also provisional, subject to revision, and contested where the boundary between “ordinary” and “constitutional” politics becomes blurred.15 In an editorial to a 2003 special edition of the Fordham International Law Review on “Transitional justice – Northern Ireland and beyond,” Colm Campbell and Fionnuala Ní Aoláin express the value of this perspective where they say “there are multiple aspects of the post-conflict landscape (examples including policing, criminal justice and truth-telling) that are most fully captured by the multiple paradigms offered by transitional justice, and which do not easily fit in another legal or political frame of analysis.”16 The other essays in the special volume draw on legal scholarship directly from and about Northern Ireland as well as from a wider range of legal commentators which root this framework more generally in a range of experiences where the autonomy of international humanrights law and humanitarian law struggle against a range of challenges to justice, policing, equality, and many other issues that are involved in the management of conflict. The “dynamic, mediating” nature of such an approach adds weight to the contention that there is a place for constitutionalism in not just delineating the normative basis for executive governance, but in shaping the course of conflict resolution.17 The peacemaking role of this approach is gathering increasing attention and ambition.18 The International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance describes modern constitutions as “instruments to enhance national unity and territorial integrity, defining or sharpening a national ideology, and developing a collective agenda for social and political change.”19 And Karl Klare recognizes the potentially 14

15 16

17 18

19

See, for example, E. Barkan (2000) The Guilt of Nations: Restitution and Historical Injustices, New York, Norton; M. C. Bassiouni (ed.) (2002) Post-Conflict Justice, Ardsley, NY, Transnational Publishers; B. Hamber (ed.) (1998) Past Imperfect: Dealing with the Past in Northern Ireland, Derry, University of Ulster and INCORE; A. H. Henkin (2002) The Legacy of Abuse: Confronting the Past, Facing the Future, New York, Aspen Institute; N. J. Kritz (ed.) (1995) Transitional Justice: How Emerging Democracies Reckon with Former Regimes, Washington, DC, US Institute of Peace. See further R. Teitel (2000) Transitional Justice, Oxford, Oxford University Press. C. Campbell and F. Ní Aoláin (2003) “Local meets global: Transitional justice in Northern Ireland,” Fordham International Law Review 26(4), 873. Teitel, Transitional Justice, p. 8. J. Benomar (2004) “Constitution making after conflict: Lessons for Iraq,” Journal of Democracy 15(2), 81–95; V. Hart (2001) “Constitution-making and the transformation of conflict,” Peace and Change 26(2), 153–75; K. Samuels (2006) “Post-conflict peace-building and constitution-making,” Chicago Journal International Law 6, 663–82; Teitel, Transitional Justice, ch. 6. Y. Ghai and G. Galli (1996) Constitution Building Processes and Democratization, Stockholm, International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance, p. 13.

Ways of seeing?

285

transformative peacemaking role of a constitution as inviting “a new imagination and self-reflection about legal methods, analysis and reasoning consistent with its transformative goals … where judicial mindset and methodology are … examined and revised so as to promote equality, a culture of democracy and transparent governance.”20 While I would not subscribe fully to the transitional justice perspective in the Northern Ireland context, there can be no doubt that it brings important additional elements. These include the focus on the past and on mechanisms to deal with the legacy of conflict and past human-rights violations. It also encompasses a focus on the future where present arrangements (including interim constitutions) can be seen as contributing to an ongoing process to supplement the immediate political resolution. This is useful as a corrective to ideas that a “solution” has been found in terms of the present carve-up of political roles. As Campbell and Ní Aoláin put it, “the Agreement is a marker for a particular end point in the conflict, but it is not an isolated end point.”21 It is linked to previous strategies and it provides a starting point for other future ones. It suggests at least the possibility that the society can transcend its present limitations and move forward, particularly through the conceptual apparatus of rights and equality provided in the Agreement, as well as by means of the extensive range of commissions both temporary and more permanent that are tasked with dealing with issues ranging from policing, the release of prisoners, truth telling and memory, disarmament, judicial appointments, and equality. In contrast to the situation as described by McGarry and O’Leary, which sometimes reads as if identities are immutable and will be forever expressed through sectarian voting patterns, this perspective admits the possibility of change and sees the constitution as happening in a range of places beyond the voting system and the formal constitutional architecture it produces.

Foundationalist and anti-foundational approaches Lawyers also have considered various general ideas from the North American context that might be adopted to help explain what the Agreement means. There are notions of a constitutional revolution occurring through the agency of a particular coalition of forces taking control, or gradual processes of change and consolidation across dominant sets of institutions or ideology.22 There are also sophisticated theories of constitutional

20

21 22

K. Klare (1998) “Legal culture and transformative constitutionalism,” South African Journal on Human Rights 14, 156. Campbell and Ní Aoláin, “Local meets global,” p. 883. J. Balkin and S. Levinson (2001) “Understanding the constitutional revolution,” Virginia Law Review 87(6), 1045–1109; M. Tushnet (2004) The New Constitutional Order, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press.

286

John Morison

patriotism,23 pluralism,24 and agonism25 (in addition to proposals to mediate entrenched group identities such as consociationalism) and ideas of constitutional engineering including mechanisms of decentralization exploring more or less consociational ideas involving different modes of power sharing and the potential to manage divisions through electoral policy and so forth.26 Most interestingly perhaps there is Bruce Ackerman’s idea of a general process of constitutional history involving a series of “constitutional moments” occurring within a narrative of continuing “normal politics.”27 Ackerman’s idea of a “constitutional moment” is as a rare juncture when the political and the constitutional interact in an occasion of constitutional transformation. This has been experienced in the US only three times – in the Founding, the Reconstruction, and the New Deal. It provides a new and different foundation for the constitution. Ackerman suggests that such a constitutional moment comes about only after a sophisticated engagement between the different branches of government and the people giving their explicit, unequivocal, and sustained approval in a process where the interaction between separation of powers and national elections serves as the vehicle for constitutional transformation. This approach puts a particular emphasis on a constitutional moment and, arguably, the Agreement concluded among the political parties does provide something like such an occasion. The idea of a constitutional moment is perhaps more implicit than overt in McGarry and O’Leary’s 23

24 25

26

27

J. Habermas (1996) Between Facts and Norms, trans. W. Rehg, Cambridge, MA, MIT Press. Constitutional patriotism is not at all synonymous with nationalism; rather, “a liberal political culture is only the common denominator for a constitutional patriotism … that heightens an awareness of both the diversity and the integrity of the different forms of life coexisting in a multicultural society” (p. 500). N. Walker (2002) “The idea of constitutional pluralism,” Modern Law Review 65(3), 317–59. J. Tully (2002) “The unfreedom of the moderns in comparison to their ideals of constitutional democracy,” Modern Law Review 65(2), 204–28; M. Wenman (2003) “‘Agonistic pluralism’ and three archetypal forms of politics,” Contemporary Political Theory 2(2), 165–86. A. Lijphart and C. H. Waisman (eds) (1996) Institutional Design in New Democracies, Boulder, CO, Westview Press; Reynolds (ed.), The Architecture of Democracy; G. Sartori (1997) Comparative Constitutional Engineering: An Inquiry into Structures, Incentives and Outcomes, 2nd edn, New York, New York University Press. See also the literature on democratic experimentalism, e.g. M. C. Dorf and C. F. Sabel (1998) “A constitution of democratic experimentalism,” Colombia Law Review 98(2), 286–473. B. Ackerman (1991) We the People: Foundations, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; and B. Ackerman (1998) We the People: Transformations, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Political scientists may be more aware of a related approach from historical institutionalism which posits the notion of critical junctures as key moments which render the workings of systems more visible. Legal theorists in the Northern Ireland context have taken up this approach to look at, for example, the legal profession’s response to “the Troubles.” See K. McEvoy (2007) “Mobilising the profession: Lawyers, politics and the collective conscience,” in Morison, McEvoy, and Anthony (eds) Judges, Transition, and Human Rights, pp. 275–314.

Ways of seeing?

287

account, but the approach does seem to suggest something like an historic act of signing up to the new constitutional design. Indeed the element of electoral approval that came from the referenda which McGarry and O’Leary are also keen to stress is consonant with such an idea. But the similarities are superficial and the application of ideas of a USstyle constitutional moment have only limited application in Northern Ireland. Indeed one of the major features of the constitutional settlement in Northern Ireland is its anti-foundational foundation. Perhaps the constitutional dispensation in Northern Ireland is almost unique in this regard. It is certainly striking that the Northern Ireland settlement not only offers the potential of a departure from Diceyan notions of sovereignty of Westminster, but that it does so without reference to ideas of popular sovereignty which elsewhere appear inevitably as the alternative foundation of constitutionalism. In other words, and in contrast to Ackerman’s account (and perhaps what is implicit with McGarry and O’Leary’s analysis) there is no single foundational event or moment where the new order is created and thus fixed in a constitutive moment as a concrete expression of a contract or political accommodation for a new polity. Indeed, from the legal theorist’s point of view, it is this that makes the Agreement special. Étienne Balibar has written of the “obsessive, spectral return of popular sovereignty in regimes of democratic citizenship,” complaining that there seems no other way to think about how to develop democracy, legitimacy, or political decision making – the big constitutional problems – without bringing in an idea of a community of citizens sharing some essential qualities and allegiances which can transcend their differences and form the foundation of their political/constitutional community.28 What the Agreement offers, arguably, is something very different. There is no “We, the people … ” moment where society is reconstituted in the classic republican mode with individuals seeing themselves as somehow possessing some commonality that transcends other allegiances so that the universal rights expressed here can form a basis for a common citizenship. Instead conflict and exclusion remain manifest. The acknowledgement of conflict is something that McGarry and O’Leary emphasize, and within the Belfast Agreement model there is no need to experience what Balibar describes as the “relativisation of social differences and competing belongings in favour of a strong manifestation of democratic reciprocity.”29 Indeed the Agreement structures seek simply to provide a place where these conflicts can be contained and worked upon over time with the instruments of rights, equality, and partnership that are provided. Conflict is acknowledged, difference is accommodated, and institutional 28

29

E. Balibar (2004) We the People of Europe? Reflections on Transnational Citizenship, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press, pp. 183–90. Balibar, We the People of Europe? p. 186.

288

John Morison

power is separated and divided among competing factions. This seems to chime with the consociationalist account and there is much common ground here. The constitutional Agreement has come about as a result of a complex set of conditions, processes, and initiatives operating in relation to a diverse range of actors. Constitution building here has been about more than simply arranging how government is to be organized, it has been aimed at providing a framework for addressing fundamental ethical problems about how a divided society can reach an accommodation that will allow it to govern itself. This process of what we might term “constitutional peacemaking” is about much more than simply designing a blueprint for government: it involves managing the creation and implementation of the design and a whole series of related if apparently unconnected issues as the process is rolled out in practice.30

Bottom-up approaches A feature of some newer accounts of constitutionalism is a call for a change in the focus from the big constitutional issues towards more bottom-up approaches which recognize the endogenous nature of constitutional transformation and the important role that exists below the level of state institutions. In part this has arisen from a hostility towards the sort of top-down, imposed constitutionalism that is often inflicted on conflicted societies by the international community, involving elite pacts, imagined through an explicitly top-down lens.31 In general critical scholars have offered subtle readings of power and society which go far beyond a blunt vertical construction where the exercise of government is solely or primarily by a national executive. As is well known, these now describe variously the postmodern phenomena of the decentering of governance, or “governance without government.”32 This involves first and foremost moving away from the sort of classic age, juridico-political theory of power that is centred almost exclusively on the notion of the popular will and its structures of government representation. We must understand that the sites and indeed formats of power are much more diverse and diffuse, and that it is there that the activity of government occurs just as much as it does at the high level of elections and legislative chambers. 30

31

32

Consider, D. L. Horowitz (2002) “Constitutional design: Proposals versus processes,” in Reynolds (ed.) The Architecture of Democracy, pp. 15–37. See generally, K. McEvoy and L. McGregor (eds) (2008) Transitional Justice from Below, Oxford, Hart; and particularly K. McConnachie and J. Morison, “Constitution-making, transition and the reconstitution of society,” in that volume. See also B. Campbell (2008) Agreement! The State, Conflict and Change in Northern Ireland, London, Lawrence and Wishart. There is a large literature on this but see, for example, J. N. Rosenau (ed.) (1992) Governance without Government, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

Ways of seeing?

289

An important strand within this work was pioneered some three decades ago by Michel Foucault’s schema and conceptual vocabulary of governmentality.33 Foucault complains that the eighteenth century “invented a juridico-political theory of power centered on the notion of the will and its alienation, transfer, and representation in a governmental apparatus.”34 This understanding has persisted, and some constitutionalists (and indeed perhaps consociationalists) persist in seeing power mainly or exclusively in these terms. In contrast, the governmentality approach requires recognition of the existence of multiple sites of government, multiple sites of governance, and a more complex relationship between governor and governed. The exercise of governance is best understood as multi-textual and multi-form, wherein power is distributed in complex networks and subtle flows at all levels of society, and the state executive is constructed as a facilitator or partner in the exercise of “rhizomatic” governance.35 All this should change the agenda for those seeking a “resolution” of the Northern Ireland governance issue. It is apparent that the primary task of a constitution, and of a political transition more generally, is a realignment of power relationships in very general and wide-ranging terms. The persistence of what might be termed Westphalianism is disappointing in the light of the sophisticated theoretical constructs which exist as interpretive aids to understanding power in modern society. Many constitutional theorists now accept in general terms that there has been a movement from government to governance, and that the role of the state has changed from being a guarantor and provider of security, wealth, and law towards being more of a partner or facilitator for a variety of other bodies and agencies as they concern themselves with such issues. Despite advanced theoretical understanding of the complex, networked nature of power flows beyond the state structure, constitutional change (and the pursuit of democracy) remains focused on the creation or reformation of big-bang, top-down national institutions and reliant upon classical notions of state, sovereign, and government. This is as true of the Northern Ireland constitution as it is elsewhere.36 33

34

35

36

See particularly, M. Foucault (2000) “Governmentality,” in J. D. Faubion (ed.) Michel Foucault, Power: The Essential Works Volume 3, London, Penguin; and L. Martin, H. Gutman, and P. Hutton (eds) (1998) Technologies of the Self: A Seminar with Michel Foucault, London, Tavistock. Perhaps most important among those who have developed Foucault’s work in general terms are M. Dean (1999) Governmentality: Power and Rules in Modern Society, London, Sage; and N. Rose (1999) Powers of Freedom: Reframing Political Thought, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. M. Foucault (2003) Abnormal: Lectures at the Collège de France 1974–1975, New York, Picador, p. 49. “Rhizomatic” is a term coined by Deleuze and Guattari to describe a phenomena “starting in local centres, forming networks and appearing in and connecting unlikely places”; see G. Deleuze and F. Guattari (1987) A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, Minnesota, University of Minnesota Press. See further J. Morison (2001) “Democracy, governance and governmentality: Civic space and constitutional renewal in Northern Ireland,” Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 21(2), 287–310.

290

John Morison

There is a need to move beyond the creation and arrangements of the institutions of state. As Foucault himself reminds us, “the analysis of power relations within a society cannot be reduced to the study of a series of institutions, not even to the study of all those institutions which would merit the name ‘political.’”37 Thus in addition to the formal state there are other bodies that have a role in the operation of government. Power relations are rooted in the system of social networks. Civil society, local government, the private sector, the individual consumer, citizen, voter, expert are all “active subjects” who not only collaborate in the exercise of government but also shape and inform it.38 The emphasis within this approach is less on the conventional subjects of constitutionalism, such as government of a territory, and ideas of judicial sovereignty and law, and more on the management of things – people, resources, ideas – as part of the multiform tactics of government. The direct action of the state in terms of law making or institution creating is to be augmented by the important quality of the freedom of the subject. It is not direct governmental action alone that achieves what governments want. This can be done successfully only with the willing cooperation of the individual subject participating in their own governance. In other words, the site and the agents of government are more than the state and passive subjects; they include also a whole range of persons and agencies co-opted into a wider exercise of power. In the Northern Ireland context it is clear that what is required is not a rejection of a continued role and influence for the state, but a reconstruction of the state–community relationship, and “relocat[ion] of this familiar vocabulary [of state and state institutions] as one important and enduring family in larger and more complex languages of networks of rule and democratic freedom.”39 In particular, rather than seeing a constitution as an assertion of new sets of rules, we must develop those various approaches suggesting, for example, that the constitution itself is to provide an operational framework creating institutional conditions that can exert pressure on society to constantly reorder itself in ways that emphasize participation, dialogue, deliberation, and mutual recognition as a means of renewing democracy.40 Transformation must occur at an ethical level where the level of “conduct of conduct” is being considered. A constitution which recognizes this would engage people in determining the details of how they want to live themselves, and in establishing the basis of participation 37

38

39 40

M. Foucault (1982) “Afterword: The subject and power,” in H. Dreyfuss and P. Rabinow (eds) Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics, Chicago, IL, University of Chicago Press, p. 224. J. Morison (2000) “The government–voluntary sector compacts: Governance, governmentality and civil society,” Journal of Law and Society 27(1), 98–132. Tully, “The unfreedom of the moderns,” p. 220. See further U. Preuss (1995) Constitutional Revolution: The Link Between Constitutionalism and Progress, trans. D. Schneider, Amhurst, NY, Prometheus Books.

Ways of seeing?

291

and democracy. It would be properly constitutive in an evolving and continuing sense.41

What consociationalists should not do: taking issue with McGarry and O’Leary So far this account has provided an overview of some of the perspectives which constitutional lawyers use. This has been accompanied by some modest suggestions relating to certain elements that are perhaps downplayed or missed in an approach that employs only a consociational lens. Now however it is necessary to develop briefly something more like a criticism. This might even seem to be more about disciplinary integrity than might be ideal.42 However the criticism is advanced not simply to make a lawyer’s point about how non-lawyers misunderstand the law; it is rather to point out how McGarry and O’Leary’s view of law simultaneously misunderstands the current constitutional position – even within the orthodoxy – and is, rather less surprisingly, not fully informed about how legal analysis has moved on beyond the cold formal logic of simple sovereignty in the Diceyean mould. One of the passages in their opening chapter to this volume reads as follows. In our view, it is not enough that the Northern Ireland Act 2000 has been repealed. The Act itself is proof that the UK’s understanding of the Agreement does not, as promised, respect the right of the Irish people, north and south, to self-determination – as expressed in their respective endorsements of the institutions of the Agreement. Formally, according to the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty, every element of the Agreement – including the portions unionists strongly like – is revisable, and alterable, according to the will of the current or any future Westminster parliament. Nothing in the UK’s constitutional arrangements stops a future parliament from behaving as minister Mandelson did – brushing aside the UK’s treaty obligations to the government of Ireland. We think it would be desirable to have the full Agreement – with any revisions agreed under its terms, but without the UK Northern Ireland 2000 Act – entrenched in a fresh treaty and attached as a joint and justiciable protocol to whatever new European constitution may be proposed and agreed in the future (though this is now a more remote prospect than when we first conceived of the idea). This is the sole legal means to constitutionalize the Agreement, which cannot be otherwise 41

42

M. Foucault (2000) “The ethic of the concern for self as a practice of freedom,” in P. Rabinow (ed.) Ethics: Subjectivity and Truth, Harmondsworth, Penguin, p. 300. This is so particularly in the light of a record of trenchant comments by O’Leary on the whole enterprise of lawyers and political scientists straying into one another’s domains; B. O’Leary (1992) “What should public lawyers do?” Oxford Journal of Legal Studies 12(3), 404–18.

292

John Morison constitutionalized in the UK’s constitution-free system. Each member state’s constitution has to be compatible with the European Union’s new constitution and this would be the best way of ensuring no clash of laws between the UK and Irish states. This proposal would ensure that any unilateral suspension of any of the Agreement’s institutions by the UK or Ireland would be regarded as a breach of the EU constitution by the appropriate court.43

This is an important passage. It is here that the failure to look at legal constitutional foundations begins to provide problems which, although not fatal to their wider perspective, are somewhat undermining. The criticism of the British government introducing the Northern Ireland Act 2000 is well made. There is no doubt that this amounted to a failure to trust either the deal that was made or the political parties to find a way forward. It also disrespected the will of the Irish people, north and south. So far this is not out of line with legal commentary which has argued in similar terms.44 Of course, as the quotation recognizes, this is perfectly consonant with orthodox ideas of parliamentary sovereignty. As McGarry and O’Leary point out, there is nothing to prevent any sovereign parliament brushing aside the UK treaty obligations. But unfortunately this is true also of any attempt such as they suggest to entrench any treaty within the troubled EU constitution or wherever. In a dualist system such as the UK, treaties only become law in so far as parliament accepts them and such acceptance always, at least within orthodox conceptions of sovereignty, contains within it the possibility that parliament will legislate inconsistently in future. Of course to have such a treaty linked in some (unspecified) way to the EU constitution might make it politically even more difficult to unilaterally suspend the institutions but it could never prevent it in legal terms. The idea that it might in some way be justiciable is more baffling. Questions of exactly how, to whom, and to what effect, are not addressed.45 This is not a legally realistic scenario at all, and it perhaps suggests at best a degree of naïvety about the legal world and at worst a misconception of the nature of sovereignty. Having criticized the conception of sovereignty employed by McGarry and O’Leary for failing to understand how far-reaching it is and how 43 44 45

See pp. 35–36. Morison, “Democracy, governance and governmentality.” There is a rather legally adventurous argument that such a protocol might be possible along the lines of the opt-outs that appear in the Maastricht Treaty. This would need to be in a new and positive form and it is difficult to imagine judges in the European Court of Justice interpreting the Agreement usefully. In so far as it has ever been discussed by lawyers, such an approach has been thought to be neither likely nor helpful (see Boyle and Hadden, The Choice, pp. 232–33). In relation to the International Court of Justice it is difficult to imagine a situation where either government would find an issue suitable for a hearing and impossible to imagine how any sanction could be brought to bear effectively.

Ways of seeing?

293

immune a sovereign parliament is to international law, there is now another objection that can be made. This is along the lines that they do not appear to be aware of more up-to-date ideas about sovereignty that perhaps might be more significant in protecting the Agreement. In recent years a number of academics have questioned how the key features of this modern version of British constitutionalism – human rights, membership of the EU, and devolution – might currently seem to be vulnerable to an exercise of sovereign power and begun to think about new ways to understand sovereignty.46 Some support for this comes from the judicial approach taken in Thoburn v. Sunderland City Council.47 Here Sir John Laws developed ideas about “constitutional statutes” which have a different status to ordinary law, and introduced what can be seen as a new approach where the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty no longer insulates ordinary legislation from judicial evaluation. Instead the “constitutional statutes,” along with other evidence of the prevailing fundamental values in the political and constitutional order, are to be used by the judges to interpret the nature and extent of legislative authority in relation to the context and values of the contemporary constitution.48 There has been considerable academic interest in such an approach.49 Murray Hunt even suggests that now we have to abandon the language of sovereignty in favour of the language of justification.50 He argues that we should replace the Diceyean view of constitutionalism with a “more coherent vision of constitutionalism which combines a non-positivist role for courts in articulating and furthering the fundamental values to which society is committed, at the same time as giving a meaningful role to the democratic branches and the administration in the definition and furtherance of those values.”51 46

47

48

49

50

51

See, in general, N. McCormick (2002) Questioning Sovereignty: Law, State and Nation in the European Commonwealth, Oxford, Oxford University Press; N. Walker (ed.) (2006) Sovereignty in Transition, Oxford, Hart; and at a practical level, M. Elliot (2003) “Embracing ‘constitutional’ legislation: Towards fundamental law?” Northern Ireland Legal Quarterly 54(1), 25–42. ([2002] 3 WLR 247). See also Jackson and Others v. Attorney General ([2005] UKHL 56), ([2006] 1 AC 262). Cf. Lord Bingham in Watkins v. Home Office and Others ([2006] UKHL 17). In a similar vein, Richard Clayton suggests that we might consider following the Canadian example to devise a constitutional theory of adjudication in terms of a “democratic dialogue.” See R. Clayton (2004) “Judicial deference and ‘democratic dialogue’: The legitimacy of judicial intervention under the Human Rights Act 1998,” Public Law 33–47. For example, David Dyzenhaus writes of Dworkin’s great contribution to legal theory being the idea that the rule of law has justificatory character where “law is not only about setting clear goals but also about argument as to what those goals should be.” See D. Dyzenhaus (1999) “Recrafting the rule of law,” in D. Dyzenhaus (ed.) Recrafting the Rule of Law: The Limits of Legal Order, Oxford, Hart, p. 9. See M. Hunt (2003) “Sovereignty’s blight: Why contemporary public law needs the concept of ‘due deference,’” in N. Bamforth and P. Leyland (eds) Public Law in a Multi-Layered Constitution, Oxford, Hart, pp. 337–70; M. Hunt (2007) “Reshaping constitutionalism,” in Morison, McEvoy, and Anthony (eds) Judges, Transition, and Human Rights, pp. 467–78. Hunt, “Sovereignty’s blight,” p. 340.

294

John Morison

Perhaps it should not be surprising that it is the circumstances of Northern Ireland which are at the “frontiers of legal analysis,”52 and where orthodox UK constitutionalism fits so poorly, that these new ideas of sovereignty, and in particular the role of judges in interpreting constitutional statutes such as the Northern Ireland Act 1998 and indeed the Northern Ireland (St Andrews Agreement) Act 2006, are most developed. There is a whole story of how judges in a series of cases,53 are working slowly towards articulating new ideas of constitutionalism that will produce new understandings that may better protect the Agreement and related acts as “constitutional acts.”54 This may be less of a “once and for all” solution than a consociationalist would wish for. The stress is less on an agreed political structure and more as an example of a constitutional space where the important, everyday constitutional issues about how to live together can be worked through not only by judges but by all key constitutional actors. These developments provide the genesis of a genuinely new form of constitutionalism. It is surely something which should be addressed by political scientists and even by consociationalists who wish to understand how the political settlement in Northern Ireland might hold together.

52

53

54

As expressed by C. Campbell, F. Ní Aoláin, and C. Harvey (2003) “The frontiers of legal analysis: Reframing the transition in Northern Ireland,” Modern Law Review 66(3), 317–45. See further G. Anthony (2001) “Public law litigation and the Belfast Agreement,” European Public Law 8(3), 401–22; B. Dickson (2006) “The House of Lords and the Northern Ireland conflict – A sequel,” Modern Law Review 69(3), 383–417; and M. Lynch (2003) “Robinson v. Secretary of State for Northern Ireland: Interpreting constitutional legislation,” Public Law, 640–49. See further J. Morison and M. Lynch (2007) “Litigating the Agreement: Towards a new judicial constitutionalism for the UK from Northern Ireland,” in Morison et al. (eds) Judges, Transition, and Human Rights, pp. 105–46.

16 Debating the Agreement Beyond a communalist dynamic? Liam O’Dowd

The debate The core of the so-called Northern Ireland problem has always centred on Ireland’s partition and border. The partition settlement of 1920–25 set up and enshrined Northern Ireland’s particular relationship with the rest of the United Kingdom; and the politics of preserving or opposing the border became the central fault-line of local politics. In effect, this ensured the institutionalization of communalist politics characterized by Protestant/ unionist domination and Catholic/nationalist subordination for a half century after 1920. Principled, and frequently idealistic, attempts to displace or circumvent this dynamic remained politically marginal and were powerless to prevent its translation into prolonged and violent conflict after 1968. In an important sense, the Good Friday Agreement recognizes the durability of communalist politics and division in an entity that has now existed for almost 90 years. The key question here is whether the Agreement has the potential to transform, or at least dilute, the dynamic that has driven politics in Northern Ireland since its inception resulting in almost 30 years of sustained political violence. In other words, does the Agreement offer a sufficiently radical reconfiguration of the original partition settlement to now promote such an outcome? Most of the academic debate over the Agreement has centred on whether its main consociational, power-sharing thrust (Strand 1) offers a way of transcending the zero-sum territorialist politics of two antagonistic communal blocs, or whether, alternatively, it simply embeds them more deeply within a new political framework. At the most general level this is a debate over the priority to be accorded to collective (or group) rights vis-à-vis individual rights at a political level. McGarry and O’Leary have long been among the foremost advocates of consociationalism as a means of managing and resolving ethno-national conflicts. In the first chapter of this volume they offer a comprehensive and trenchant assessment of the issues, they frame the debate as one between those favouring accommodationist, including consociationalist, approaches

296

Liam O’Dowd

as opposed to integrationist approaches that reject according political rights to collectivities in favour of enhancing the citizenship rights of individuals. They provide robust rebuttal of the many “integrationist” critics of the Agreement, while also critiquing many of its consociational friends.1 Here they represent themselves as consociationalists who are liberal rather than corporate, revisionist rather than traditional. Crucially, however, they argue that, in the Irish case, consociationalism is insufficient in itself, and, that to succeed, it must be lodged within a wider binational framework (as in Strands 2 and 3 of the Agreement), if the competing national claims crystallized in Northern Ireland around partition are not to lead to future instability and recurrent conflict. It is beyond the scope of this commentary to address all the complex and nuanced arguments assessed by McGarry and O’Leary. Here I have avoided engaging with the detailed debates over the precise design and implementation of consociational agreements although these are clearly important. Some of this debate over the design and operation of consociational arrangements has tended to miss the wood for trees. The “wood” includes the overall political and economic framework (most of it non-consociational) in which the power-sharing elements of the Agreement (and other consociational arrangements) are lodged. In what follows, I identify some of the areas where McGarry and O’Leary’s analysis is more theoretically and empirically convincing than that of their critics. Their strengths are partly due to their appreciation of the history (largely implicit here) of the Irish case. Their adversaries on the other hand, in concentrating on the comparative significance of the Irish case, fail to acknowledge sufficiently its specific historical trajectory. Subsequently, however, I identify some weaknesses or gaps in the debate evident in both the McGarry and O’Leary analysis and that of many of their critics. These stem from determinedly antimaterialist positions – in other words, a reluctance to acknowledge that “identities” – religious, ethnic, or national – have substantial material dimensions.2 This position precludes a full recognition of the material inequalities that threaten the Agreement and also the changing material circumstances which may in fact sustain it. In other words, it inhibits more comprehensive analysis of its medium- and long-term prospects. Finally, in the last section, I offer some tentative conclusions about the Agreement and its likely prospects.

1

2

By McGarry and O’Leary’s own account, some integrationists (e.g. social transformationists) actually support the Agreement, while some consociationalists are critical of its design faults. “Material” here is not to be confused with the narrowly economic or with some crude distinction between economic infrastructure and superstructure, heavily criticized by McGarry and O’Leary in the past; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Blackwell. Rather material resources – finance, property, the capacity to control territory, organizations, access to political and military support – constitute integral parts of both group and individual identity.

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

297

The importance of competing nationalisms In theorizing the Northern Ireland conflict, McGarry and O’Leary foreground what many of their critics contrive to obscure or avoid – the centrality of competing nationalisms that are connected, but not reducible, to inter-communal divisions within Northern Ireland. While “competing nationalisms” is a shorthand which occludes the various types of nationalisms involved and how they have changed over time,3 it nevertheless signals that Northern Ireland is not, and indeed never was, a stand-alone entity – an impression that might be taken from some internalist discussions of consociational arrangements in a power-sharing Assembly. From the outset, Northern Ireland represented a territorial caging or containment of some of the more intractable aspects of the British–Irish conflict involving historic ethno-religious divisions, material inequalities, and differential relationships to the British state.4 By definition, Northern Ireland as a separate entity was a construction built around an antagonistic relationship between two ethno-national blocs and a politics which privileged zero-sum territorialism. McGarry and O’Leary persuasively suggest than any settlement of the conflict must “open the cage,” and broaden the territorial and political parameters to include the two relevant sovereign states (and indeed the wider multinational framework). For them, therefore, if the consociational dimension of the Agreement is to work, it needs to be lodged within a binational framework which accommodates, modifies, and regulates the claims of British and Irish nationalists. More generally, consociational arrangements, in their view, are never sufficient where the borders of the state are routinely contested. Many of McGarry and O’Leary’s most stringent, integrationist critics, are either hostile to, or extremely impatient with, their emphasis on competing nationalisms. A small number of dissident republicans, for example, simply assert the right of a majority on the island of Ireland to national selfdetermination. Integrationist unionists, on the other hand, want the national question to be definitively and permanently resolved in their favour, by rejecting contrary claims as inferior and/or by denying their own nationalism. For some, the UK state is a privileged repository of universalist liberal values – by definition both individualist and non-nationalist.5 3

4

5

See for example, Anderson and O’Dowd’s discussion of competing and overlapping British and Irish nationalisms during the struggle for home rule – these included British imperial nationalism, pro-imperial Irish nationalism, and Irish separatist nationalism. British nationalism might be characterized as a state in search of a nation, Irish nationalism as a nation in search of a state. Partition and Northern Ireland in particular reflected the extent of the limits and failures of each nationalism. See J. Anderson and L. O’Dowd (2007) “Imperialism and nationalism: The Home Rule struggle and border creation in Ireland, 1885–1925,” Political Geography 26(8), 934–51. L. O’Dowd and C. McCall (2008) “Escaping the cage of ethno-national conflict in Northern Ireland: The importance of transnational networks,” Ethnopolitics 7(1), 81–99. L. O’Dowd (1998) “‘New unionism,’ British nationalism and the prospects for a negotiated settlement in Northern Ireland,” in D. Miller (ed.) Rethinking Northern Ireland: Culture, Ideology and Colonialism, London, Longman, pp. 70–93.

298

Liam O’Dowd

More generally, the international academy tends to see nationalism and ethno-national conflict as an affront to the universalist liberal values that it allegedly embraces.6 Yet, as McGarry and O’Leary observe, the academy is saturated with the assumptions of the nation-state – indeed the nation-state has been in effect globalized or universalized over the last 60 years.7 Nevertheless, academics, particularly those associated with old and new imperial states, are prone to proclaim themselves as anti-nationalist tout court without specifying what form of nationalism they oppose (except it is usually “other peoples,” nor indeed do they specify what forms of state-nationalism they tacitly accommodate and support). In bracketing, circumventing, and avoiding the issue of competing nationalisms, integrationists can delude themselves that all they are doing is opposing political rights for collectivities and groups in favour of individual rights – a position which underpins their critique of consociational arrangements. Few contest the rights of the collectivities encompassed in their own “uncontested” states. Yet such national collectivities are manifestly unequal and highly diverse in terms of their political, cultural, and economic arrangements. Therefore, academics who are integrationists in their “own” states or with respect to ethno-national conflicts are typically accommodationist vis-à-vis the inter-state system as a whole – an increasingly questionable position, given the growing permeability between domestic and foreign affairs. It is extremely doubtful if “pure integrationists” exist in reality. Indeed, McGarry and O’Leary’s “integrationists” category share only a very abstract set of philosophical beliefs which in practice would be a very weak antidote to divisions based on competing nationalisms. Of course, in the particular case of Ireland, the conventional labelling of only one group as (Irish) nationalists conveniently obscures the (British) nationalisms of the other protagonists. It is certainly the case that few academics within Northern Ireland have enthusiastically embraced any of the competing nationalisms on offer. They are more likely to ally themselves with a minority political tradition, with long and honourable roots, that has sought to challenge, displace, or at least downplay the politics of the dominant ethno-national blocs. However, like the integrationists described by McGarry and O’Leary in Part I of this volume, this minority has been a highly differentiated category, unable to act as a cohesive political force. It has comprised liberals, different kinds of “moderates,” socialists of various hues, and, more recently, 6

7

Of course, the “academy” is in effect dominated by the Anglo-American (or English-speaking) world and to a lesser extent by continental western Europe. Michael Mann has argued that the era of the hegemony of the nation-state is just beginning (dating it from 1945); M. Mann (2007) “The age of nation-states is just beginning,” plenary address to the “Beyond the Nation” conference, Queen’s University Belfast. Methodological nationalism persists in the social sciences, despite regular proclamations about its defects and its inability to come to terms with an allegedly post-nationalist world. Anderson and O’Dowd (in “Imperialism and nationalism”) have argued for the need to rethink the relationships between imperialisms and nationalisms, old and new.

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

299

advocates of civil society, ecological, and feminist perspectives.8 Its diversity and lack of political cohesion has always been trumped by communalist appeals in an entity based on a communalist rationale. As McGarry and O’Leary show, this “middle ground” has been declining rather than growing in terms of electoral popularity.9 Indeed, the communal blocs, like national collectivities elsewhere, have been able to accommodate to a greater or lesser degree moderates and progressives of various kinds. The issue then, is not that Northern Ireland is different from settled states because of the priority given to collectivities – where it differs is in the way in which two antagonistic collectivities are locked together in practising the zero-sum, and often violent, politics of territorial control. These blocs cannot “forget” the territorial border which defined them and its continued contemporary significance; they are marked by the way it was consolidated between 1920 and 1925, and by the hopes and fears about how it might possibly change in the future. The issue is all the more pressing in a democratic sense, given the tendency toward parity in the size of the two communal groups.

Empirical justifications for the Agreement There is a sense in which McGarry and O’Leary, unlike their integrationist critics, can claim that their analysis has been confirmed by actual political developments in Northern Ireland. British government policy in Ireland over centuries has been typically more accommodationist than integrationist in McGarry and O’Leary’s terms. Indeed, both consciously and inadvertently it has contributed to constructing two ethno-national blocs on the island as a whole – and partition represented a particular territorial variant on this policy.10 Over the last four decades, the British state in Northern Ireland has moved from a form of indirect rule via one communal bloc (1920–72), through a series of failed attempts to reconstitute devolution by the incorporation of “moderates” from both blocs, to the Agreement which is based 8

9 10

Of course, most of those claiming the “middle ground” have at least a pragmatic preference for which state they feel might provide the most conducive framework for realizing their political objectives. This makes them allies in principle with one or other of the communal blocs, or rather more pejoratively, they can be portrayed as anaemic unionists or nationalists. See p. 66. This is not to suggest that ethno-national blocs in Ireland were simply the creations of British government policy, much less to argue that the former did not constrain the latter. In all historical colonies, settlers pose particularly refractory problems for metropolitan governments. Under the Act of Union, British government policy vacillated between ruling through the Anglican Anglo-Irish ascendancy class, through two ethno-religious blocs (as manifested in the denominational solution to the education issue), or via shifting alliances between government parties and Irish nationalists and unionists during the home-rule struggle. Partition gave a new territorial form to Britain’s accommodationist strategy vis-à-vis Ireland as a whole although such a strategy was not practised within Northern Ireland by the Ulster unionists. The consociational nature of the Agreement is eminently understandable in the light of this history.

300

Liam O’Dowd

on an inclusive form of power sharing within Northern Ireland, lodged within a more complex and formalized British-Irish governance structure. In one sense, the Agreement reinserts Northern Ireland back into something approaching the pre-partition British–Irish framework. However, as McGarry and O’Leary note, unlike partition and later attempts at a settlement, the Agreement marked a significant internationalization of Northern Irish issues by involving a range of international actors in its negotiation and implementation.11 McGarry and O’Leary can plausibly claim that their analysis and prescriptions are in line with these developments and indeed have helped influence them – a pleasing outcome within the canon of positivistic social science. The appeal to empirical evidence in the specific debate over the Agreement, however, is subject to the caveat that it may be far too premature to reach definitive conclusions about its impact and potential. This holds true as much for McGarry and O’Leary’s marshalling of supportive evidence as it does for that of their critics. The Agreement and its consociational elements have a short and faltering history compared to the period of indirect and direct rule that preceded them. In particular, it seems reasonable to question how much credit, or blame, can be attributed to consociationalism in countering or diluting the political dynamic which has characterized Northern Ireland since its inception. There has been a tendency to rush to judgement on both sides of the debate. Sceptics or opponents of the Agreement have advanced an “increasing polarization” thesis in the wake of the Agreement and the difficulties of implementing it.12 Attitude surveys, contentious parades, proliferating peace walls in Belfast, and evidence of increased communal segregation have been cited in support of this thesis. McGarry and O’Leary, however, can point to the dramatic decline in deaths from political violence and overwhelming support for the political parties that now support the Agreement, as revised in the St Andrews Agreement. Close and seasoned observers of local politics such as Rick Wilford and Robin Wilson have continued to point to the negative consequences of a sectarian carve-up of local power, to a certain 11

12

One of the more remarkable shifts in British policy over the course of “the Troubles” has been the disappearance since the early 1980s of strident assertions that Northern Ireland is a purely internal British matter. As McGarry and O’Leary note (see pp. 37–44), partition was treated as an internal imperial matter. In contrast, the contemporary reconfiguration of partition has involved many categories of outsiders, although arguably drawn from a new neoimperial framework involving North America and the European Union (EU), and no longer dominated by Great Britain alone. The Irish Republic’s enthusiastic economic and cultural integration into the North American–EU bloc makes it more difficult to characterize it as “foreign” – indeed, perhaps not coincidentally, Irish nationalists are also busily rediscovering their imperial past. The all-island or all-Ireland economy, now seems a mutually beneficial aim for the British government, and unionists and nationalists alike. See, for example, R.Wilson (2003) Northern Ireland: What’s going wrong? Working paper QU/Gov/2003, Queen’s University Belfast, Institute of Governance, Public Policy and Social Research.

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

301

paralysis of decision-making, a lack of an effective opposition, and to incipient tensions within and between the political parties.13 The scepticism of local critics is magnified by a sense of moral outrage that, as they see it, the two parties most responsible for fuelling the conflict which caused over 3,000 deaths are now its principal beneficiaries. For some republicans and unionists, the new arrangement is a betrayal of deeply held principles and an affront to what they have endured during the conflict. Meanwhile, international critics of consociationalism and their local supporters can point to the dangers of rewarding extremists and of privileging communal over individual rights. Difficulties in implementing the Agreement are also taken as evidence of its unworkability, i.e. the folly of attempting to reconcile the irreconcilable. Yet, in torturous and prolonged negotiations, a succession of apparently intractable issues such as decommissioning and policing were resolved to such an extent that a Democratic Unionist Party–Sinn Féin-led, powersharing executive was established in 2007. This outcome, almost unimaginable for many long-term commentators on Northern Ireland, seemed to mark a remarkable success for the architects of the Agreement; it seemed to be a triumph for the optimists of (political) will over the pessimists of the intellect. Predictions that a loveless marriage of the extremes would end in quick divorce proved wide of the mark, predictions further confounded by the benign public presentation of the new Executive by Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness. Of course, divorce may eventually ensue, or the marriage may simply be a sham; perhaps it may be more likely, however, that the parties to the marriage may themselves be in the process of transformation in ways, contrary to the integrationists’ predictions, that may weaken rather than strengthen the internal cohesiveness of each bloc. Appeals to empirical evidence are always shaped by political and theoretical preferences. “Theory” necessarily helps abstract or select out those aspects of the empirical world that it considers significant while ignoring others. But McGarry and O’Leary may be on stronger empirical ground than the sceptics in pointing to the influence of the non-consociational elements in the Agreement. These are seldom sufficiently emphasized by critics of consociationalism in Northern Ireland. McGarry and O’Leary’s revisionist consociationalism now stresses the non-consociational elements and wider framework of the Agreement, and therefore may allow for a fuller and more comprehensive empirical assessment of its prospects for success. Even if many of the negative predictions of the critics of Agreement are realized, McGarry and O’Leary are persuasive on the short-term benefits, i.e. that the peace process which has led to the current Agreement has greatly reduced political violence and helped end a self-destructive and stalemated conflict. Moreover, it became possible to mobilize overwhelming mass electoral 13

R. Wilford and R. Wilson (eds) (2008) Northern Ireland Devolution Monitoring Report, January 2008, www.ucl.ac.uk/constitution-unit/files/research/devolution/dmr/NI_Jan08.pdf

302

Liam O’Dowd

support for consociational devolution and for the apparently benign stability of the wider political framework (Strands 2 and 3) in which it was lodged.

Downplaying the material dimension There are some shortcomings in McGarry and O’Leary’s approach, however, that are in fact shared by many of their critics. For most of Northern Ireland’s history, its politics has taken the form of a zero-sum struggle over material resources summed up by the capacity to both claim and/or control territory. The capacity to claim and control the six-county area of Northern Ireland was thus seen by unionists as essential to ensuring the survival of their separate identity. Internally, the more resources they could control, the less the other side could control. The struggle was multidimensional and involved demographic balance, houses, jobs, votes, schools, churches, the media, access to arms, parade routes, flags and emblems, and “ownership” of particular districts in both urban and rural areas. These very material factors are integral to what many commentators represent as the clash of cultural identities, beliefs, and ideologies in Northern Ireland – although much analysis has conveniently occluded them. McGarry and O’Leary’s reference to the “(presumed) ‘material basis’ of sectarian identities,” seems unnecessarily tentative and indicative of their over-concentration on ideational dimensions of the conflict.14 Moreover, under the influence of the “cultural turn” in the social sciences since the 1980s, many other contributors to the debate (both opponents and proponents of consociationalism) also share an understanding of the Northern Ireland conflict as a narrowly defined (non-material) “identity conflict.”15 An example of a rare analysis that grasps the multidimensional (including the material) nature of communal division is that advanced in Joseph Ruane and Jennifer Todd’s book The Dynamics of Conflict in Northern Ireland.16 They note that under “conditions of an uneven and changing balance of power … each community feels impelled to struggle to advance or defend their interests.”17 But far from producing an internalist analysis, they note that the communal conflict requires the dismantling of a centuries old system of the material power relationships that span Britain and Ireland. Of course, their characterization of the conflict immediately raises the question if any system of governance (including the Agreement) can possibly transform (as opposed to simply recognize) the basic, material parameters of communal relationships. However, there is considerable evidence that the Agreement is 14 15

16

17

See p. 21. See, for example, D. Bell (1998) “Modernising Irish history: The real politik of heritage and cultural tradition in Northern Ireland,” in Miller (ed.) Rethinking Northern Ireland, pp. 228–52; J. Whyte (1990) Interpreting Northern Ireland, Oxford, Clarendon Press, pp. 97–100, 197–99. J. Ruane and J. Todd (1996) The Dynamics of Conflict in Northern Ireland: Power, Conflict and Emancipation, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Ruane and Todd, The Dynamics of Conflict, p. 307.

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

303

itself already a product of considerable shifts, overt and subterranean, in the balance of material power between the two communities – including the growth of the Catholic middle class prior to, and during, direct rule (1972– 98), and the tendency towards parity in the demographic balance of Catholics and Protestants, as well as the various reforms associated with the “equality agenda.” It seems likely too that the economic and social transformations in the Irish Republic (the rise of the “Celtic Tiger”) have had a far-reaching, although not fully acknowledged, influence on the system of relationships in which Northern Ireland is embedded. Of course, the two-community model has been frequently criticized as essentialist and unmindful of intra-communal differentiation and a minority which refuses membership of either community.18 However, a more materialist analysis fully acknowledges the differentiation and inequalities within each community as well as between them. It recognizes that in the particular conditions of Northern Ireland intra-communal divisions may actually exacerbate inter-communal divisions rather than form the basis of crosscommunal alliances. Colin Coulter, for example, notes the incessant dialogue between class consciousness and ethno-national orientation within both communities and suggests that it is always the latter that speaks with the loudest voice and has the last word.19 Thus, and here McGarry and O’Leary agree with Coulter, communalist appeals have a more binding and mobilizing capacity than appeals to class where the latter is couched in communal terms (e.g. “the Protestant” or “the Catholic” working class, not “the working class”). However, class has had a powerful effect on the way in which the ethno-national conflict was pursued – in terms of political violence “the Troubles” were a largely working class war, while the middle classes actually benefited from a conflict heavily subsidized by the British exchequer. In other words, the conflict and its effects were experienced differentially according to class. Yet, there is little in the Agreement that addresses this outcome – which may point to a source of future problems for consociationalism. Tensions within the communal blocs may be accentuated, in a context in which the immediacy of national and ethnic interest seems less clear and less pressing. Whether these will then promote cross-communal cooperation on “class issues,” or provoke attempts to revitalize communalist appeals, or both, remains to be seen. As an architecture of governance the Agreement is aimed at establishing new rules for regulating and managing the conflicts of communal interest. Its rationale is to ensure that appeals to communal interest and to competing nationalisms are resolved through dialogue and consent, and through 18

19

For critiques of essentialist approaches see, for example, M. McGovern (2000) “Irish republicanism and the potential pitfalls of pluralism,” Capital and Class 71, 133–61; M. Nic Craith (2002) Plural Identities – Singular Narratives: The Case of Northern Ireland, New York, Berghahn. C. Coulter (1999) Contemporary Northern Irish Society: An Introduction, London, Pluto Press.

304

Liam O’Dowd

agreement on how, if at all, state borders might be changed in a peaceful and democratic manner. As McGarry and O’Leary point out, contexts in which state borders are routinely contested (as in Northern Ireland) have different implications for consociational arrangements than in arenas where they are largely uncontested. However, in celebrating the Agreement’s management of competing nationalisms, they may underestimate not only the material inequalities within communities, but also the very different material resources that underpin the competing nationalisms. Significantly, the regionalist relationship between Northern Ireland and the predominant material presence of the British state is the one least regulated by the Agreement. Mundane, effective British sovereignty has remained relatively untouched by the Agreement, but it retains the potential to dramatically affect the workings of internal power sharing. This has received very little attention in the academic literature on the Agreement. McGarry and O’Leary do provide a critique of this by pointing out that the doctrine of parliamentary supremacy in the British majoritarian system can in fact suspend the Agreement or alter important parts of it, without regard to the Irish government or Northern Irish parties; but they do not pursue in any depth the possible consequences for the Agreement of inequalities in the material power of the states and parties involved. The practical overarching budgetary control of the Chancellor of the Exchequer in London may have more pervasive ramifications for consociationalism than the political doctrine of parliamentary supremacy. Thus the material weight of the British state in Northern Ireland may be altogether more important than its lack of a written constitution. In effect, the devolved Northern Ireland administration has limited powers; as in the old Stormont system, its main role is to distribute a block grant that contains a massive subvention from the British exchequer. This arrangement, potentially at least, encourages a communalist zero-sum politics over the allocation of public resources. The Northern Ireland Assembly’s lack of taxvarying powers with respect to income and capital may serve to minimize the focus on the material inequalities within each bloc while encouraging inter-bloc competition. Alternatively, of course, it may encourage a common interest between the political leadership of both communal blocs in economic negotiations with British politicians and the Treasury. In explaining why unionists agreed to negotiate the Agreement, McGarry and O’Leary point to a change in the default positions of the British government from simply direct rule from London, to direct rule with more input from the Dublin government. Yet, even under devolution, there is a permanent administrative default position associated with the control of the British government over the material resources of the Northern Ireland Executive. The British government and state here are not external agents; they are an integral part of the administration of Northern Ireland. For example, the Northern Ireland civil service remains accountable to, and is suffused by a similar organizational culture as, the overall UK civil service, thereby

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

305

reducing its accountability to local elected representatives. Thus there is a powerful default template in areas such as administration, planning, and the legal system, which is “made in Britain.” This is true even of the first budget of the Northern Ireland Executive, which was proudly proclaimed by Finance Minister Peter Robinson as “made in Northern Ireland.”20 Since the inception of Northern Ireland, successive British administrations, have presented themselves as “external” agents vis-à-vis the conflict over national affiliation. In practice, however, they have been protagonists and part of the balance of forces involved. Twenty-nine years ago, Bill Rolston, Mike Tomlinson, and I wrote – in Northern Ireland: Between Civil Rights and Civil War – that the British state was not above the Northern Ireland problem, but an integral part of it.21 The full story of the British state’s role in the conflict remains to be told – but the debate on consociationalism has encouraged analysts to solely problematize the two communal blocs. Today after three decades of violent conflict and a protracted search for a political settlement, the British state remains an integral part of the new system of governance and as such its role needs to be analysed and assessed more fully in any discussion of the prospects of the new consociational assembly.22 This is particularly important in terms of understanding day-to-day governance. The following questions among others suggest themselves: What kind of stability has been created? Is it one which is planting the seeds of another bout of communal conflict, as happened under 50 years of Stormont rule? Or is it one which will gradually shape a new, cross-communal regional dynamic? The Strand 3 east–west dimension to the Agreement, although rather limited in terms of its material effects, has been aided by new and asymmetric devolutionary arrangements in the UK. Some unionists (e.g. the Democratic Unionist Party) can now argue (albeit unsuccessfully) that Northern Ireland should have different corporation tax levels from the rest of the UK (to match those in the Republic) without slavishly following the practices of the central state to protect the integrity of the Union. Such developments suggest greater room for political innovation than existed previously. However, it is Strand 2, north–south relationships which are potentially most promising for diluting, or even transforming the communalist dynamic within Northern Ireland.23 Their actual and potential connection to the 20 21

22

23

www.dfpni.gov.uk/index/news/budget-announcement-oct-07.htm L. O’Dowd, B. Rolston, and M. Tomlinson (1980) Northern Ireland: Between Civil Rights and Civil War, London, CSE books. The Devolution Monitoring Programme coordinated in Northern Ireland by Rick Wilford and Robin Wilson provides invaluable commentary on the day-to-day relationship between Northern Ireland and the central British state – however, unsurprisingly, it is the actions of devolved governments in the UK that tend to be problematized rather than those of the central state. J. Coakley and L. O’Dowd (eds) (2007) Crossing the Border: New Relationships between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland, Dublin, Irish Academic Press.

306

Liam O’Dowd

consociationalist elements of the Agreement has been under-analysed in the debates discussed by McGarry and O’Leary in this volume’s first chapter. Compared to the intimate links between Northern Ireland and the centralized British state, those between Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic are minimalist, if innovative, in comparative terms. Their underlying rationale is positive-sum rather than zero-sum in that cooperation is predicated on consent about mutual benefit. This is particularly the case in the economic area, where both parts of Ireland are forced to subscribe to the border transcending rules on economic competitiveness set by the European Union (EU) and the global market place. Thus, rationales have also developed for all-island arrangements for energy, the promotion of tourism, spatial planning, and joint-marketing missions abroad – and these rationales are border transcending. Cooperation in other areas such as health, welfare, and education, though, is much less developed and more vulnerable to the inertia and territorialism of the two administrations on the island. They also have been too reliant on special external resources from the EU and the US – a factor which threatens their sustainability in the long run.24 North–south relationships, as those between states in the EU, are both border transcending and border confirming. However, both processes hold promise for challenging the territorialist dynamic which has fixed Northern Ireland politics in its zero-sum mould. They bring both communities in Northern Ireland into closer contact with a state, where politics is driven by a highly materialist, even economistic, dynamic. The greater the contact between unionists and political and business interests in the south, the clearer will become the lack of southern interest in politically “taking over” the north. This enhances unionists’ security, while also reminding Northern nationalists of the degree to which differences between north and south have been institutionalized by belonging to different states for the last 89 years. For unionists, opportunities to engage more widely with interests in the Irish Republic promise at least a reversal of the dynamic which has seen the defensive shrinkage of Protestant influence to a north-eastern enclave on the island. Interestingly, research interviews with grass-roots loyalist community groups, funded by the peace programmes, indicate a greater ease in interacting with voluntary groups from the Irish Republic rather than with nearby republican groups in the north.25 North–south links have the potential at least to dilute communalist thinking. It is doubtful if, however, given their current state of development, the relatively weak cross-border implementation bodies established under the Agreement have the potential to transform internal Northern Ireland politics. 24

25

L. O’Dowd, C. McCall, and I. Damkat (2007) “Sustaining cooperation? The public, private and civil society sectors,” in Coakley and O’Dowd (eds) Crossing the Border, pp. 263–88. C. McCall and L. O’Dowd (2008) “Hanging flower baskets, blowing in the wind: Third Sector groups, cross-border partnerships and the EU peace programs in Ireland,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 14(1), 29–54.

Beyond a communalist dynamic?

307

Conclusions The relationship between the consociational Assembly and the broader political framework in which it is located is critical to its successful operation and prospects. Laissez-faire attitudes on behalf of the British and Irish governments to leave the Northern Ireland political parties to their own devices or to abdicate their own responsibility for challenging the dynamic of sectarian division, will encourage recidivism and a lack of reflection on their own ongoing responsibilities. In Northern Ireland, the legacy of the Troubles and the preceding 50 years continues to provide much ammunition for communalist wars over the past, and these could derail cross-communal cooperation and networking in the present and future. The Agreement certainly demonstrates continuity with historical forms of accommodationism practised by British policy makers in Ireland. However, it would be myopic not to acknowledge the extent to which the new dispensation has also broken with the past – there is now an unprecedented level of inclusive dialogue and engagement between unionists and nationalists in both parts of Ireland, and between the British and Irish governments. This may not be the dialogue of undistorted communication. The Agreement may not be accompanied by the kind of Habermasian public sphere advocated by Rupert Taylor where deliberative democracy might flourish outside the state sector.26 Nevertheless, the Agreement has created an extraordinary number of interlinked arenas where political negotiation and debate can take place between unionists and nationalists – the Executive, the Assembly, its committees, the North–South Ministerial Council, the east–west institutions. To these must be added local councils and the Westminster and European parliaments. Dialogue is no longer confined to the divided narrow ground of Northern Ireland, and the wider frameworks serve to encourage rather than discourage cross-communal cooperation, whether in negotiating corporation tax with the British prime minister, seeking economic investment in the United States, or economic support from the Irish government or EU. A weakness of the Agreement, however, and of much of the debate around it, is its failure to address its possible effects on the more marginalized, workingclass communities – nationalist and unionist – which have suffered most from the conflict. Therein lie the seeds of future violence. Nevertheless, there are promising straws in the wind: an Orangeman addressing the 2008 Sinn Féin Ard Fheis on the question of British collusion with loyalist paramilitaries; a Social Democratic and Labour Party minister addressing the annual conference of the Ulster Unionist Party; Paisley meeting Taoiseach Bertie Ahern at the Battle of the Boyne site; a member of the Official Unionist Party joining Fianna Fáil; and the Irish government investing in physical infrastructure in Northern Ireland. These developments 26

R. Taylor (2006) “The Belfast Agreement and the politics of consociationalism: A critique,” The Political Quarterly 77(2), 217–24.

308

Liam O’Dowd

may occlude the continued signs of polarization in deprived communities on the ground but nonetheless they are hugely symbolic. Nor are they without grass-roots effects. Indeed ongoing research on civil society organizations displays how sensitive cross-communal grass-roots are to changing relationships at the political level.27 Routinized contact also allows not just for contrary interests to be articulated, it also allows them to be reshaped while recognizing and identifying mutual interests. The level of popular fatigue in Northern Ireland with the slogans and shibboleths of ingrained sectarian politics should not be underestimated. The new arrangements at least suggest an alternative to the dialogue of sectarian impasse; and, in any case, there are few other alternatives on the horizon. Indeed, contrary to the doomsayers, it may be that the new Agreement arrangements provide an umbrella for all kinds of unprecedented networks and alliances among groups, within and without the narrow political sphere, that were simply unimaginable hitherto. Even if the consociational arrangements in Northern Ireland provide one means, however imperfect and transitional, of realizing these outcomes,28 then they will have surely served a valuable purpose.

27 28

McCall and O’Dowd, “Hanging flower baskets,” p. 44. James Anderson has usefully criticized both consociationalists and integrationists for lacking a sense of process, stages, and transitions. Consociational arrangements are often conceived as permanent, where they might be regarded as necessary to get conflicting groups on board in the first place; while integrationists, in stressing that consociationalism could drive blocs further apart, have a historical blind spot regarding the depth of the violence which made peace processes necessary in the first place. In Northern Ireland, the Democratic Unionist Party hope that mandatory consociational coalitions will give way to voluntary coalitions; Sinn Féin hope that they will be succeeded by a united Ireland – while McGarry and O’Leary in their conclusions to this volume’s first chapter hold out the (long-term) prospect of consociational agreement easing transition to other constitutional scenarios. See J. Anderson (2008) “Partition, consociation and border crossing: Some lessons from the national conflict in Ireland/Northern Ireland,” Nations and Nationalism 14(1), 85–104.

17 The injustice of a consociational solution to the Northern Ireland problem Rupert Taylor

Introduction The scholarly work of John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, grounded in consociational theory, “has become the most orthodox modern explanation of the Northern Ireland problem” and has undoubtedly influenced the search for a political “solution.”1 McGarry and O’Leary powerfully assert – in this volume – that their explanation is intellectually rigorous and that their proposed solution is just in terms of “stability, fairness, and democracy.”2 As will be argued in this chapter, there are, though, serious grounds on which to doubt such claims; not least when it comes to recognizing and addressing the enduring injustice of systemic sectarianism. For, in this regard, it can be shown that consociational theory fails to accurately understand and explain the underlying nature of Northern Irish society; and, as such, cannot then legitimately proceed to provide the means of resolving the “problem.” Moreover, to the extent that this is true, any consociationally informed solution that is imposed – such as the Belfast Agreement – is itself likely to be far from “what justice mandates,”3 and would – on top of pre-existing injustice – represent a kind of double injustice. Such is the case, or so it is argued. Consequently, it is suggested that consociationalism be supplanted by a social transformation perspective.

Reading the Northern Ireland “problem” The validity of any consociational solution must rest on the strength of how the initial problem to be solved is read – or indeed framed.4 So how strong is 1

2 3 4

A. Edwards (2007) “Review essay: Interpreting the conflict in Northern Ireland,” Ethnopolitics 6(1), p. 138. Also see J. Tonge (2005) The New Northern Irish Politics, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, p. 12. See pp. 12–13. See pp. 24–25. Consider, N. Vaughan-Williams (2006) “Towards a problematisation of the problematisations that reduce Northern Ireland to a ‘problem,’” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 9(4), 513–26.

310

Rupert Taylor

McGarry and O’Leary’s understanding of the Northern Ireland problem? Following the reasoning of consociational theory as classically developed in the writings of Arend Lijphart,5 McGarry and O’Leary tie their interpretive frame to the overriding salience and force of competing ethno-national group politics. Essentially, the argument is that the root cause of the Northern Ireland “problem” resides in the deeply embedded ethno-national antagonism between Protestants and Catholics, unionists and nationalists.6 It is precisely because ethno-national differences are so strong (indeed, intractable) that they are not amenable to any orthodox democratic resolution tied to notions of individualistic liberal (or class-based) justice – a position readily supported by the history of democratic failure in Northern Ireland. As McGarry and O’Leary put it, the conflict is not “between two aggregates of individuals mainly interested in promoting their economic well-being,” but is a “national conflict” waged “between two communities” that are “derived from ethnic and religious differentiation.”7 As such, the prospects for a “solution” must rest on the recognition of the tenacity of incommensurable ethno-national group interests and the appropriate application of the main regulating principles of consociationalism (now presented by O’Leary and McGarry as “revisionist”-cum-“liberal” consociationalism). This is, as this volume attests, an approach that has gained hegemonic status; for, it seems to fit so well with things as they appear to be – and appear to become. However, the key question, sociologically speaking, is: Does this reading of the problem (as against others) properly relate to the basic structure of society; understood, as Brian Barry succinctly puts it, “as being constituted by the major institutions that allocate (or bring about an allocation of) rights, opportunities, and resources”?8 The point being, that if it can be shown that the Northern Ireland problem is better understood as being tied to the unjust structure of that society rather than the salience of ethno-nationalism per se, then far more is required for conflict resolution than consociationalists presume. And herein lies the major lacuna in McGarry and O’Leary’s consociational framework: confronting and coming to terms with the reality and injustice of systemic sectarianism. In fact, properly understood, and as argued in this chapter, sectarianism is deep-lying and is systemic “in the sense of an organized societal whole with many interconnected elements.”9 It has been foundational to Northern Irish society 5

6

7

8 9

A. Lijphart (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press; A. Lijphart (1977) Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Blackwell, p. 392. B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (1996) The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland, 2nd edn, London, The Athlone Press, p. 4; McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, p. 306. B. Barry (2005) Why Social Justice Matters, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. 16. J. R. Feagin (2006) Systemic Racism: A Theory of Oppression, New York, Routledge, p. 8.

The injustice of consociationalism

311

and has constituted, and continues to constitute, a material, social, and ideological reality resulting in cumulative enrichment for Protestants and unjust impoverishment for Catholics.10 It cannot be sidelined or ignored. McGarry and O’Leary, however, are not alone in this regard. There is, in fact, a general under-theorization of sectarianism in social-scientific work on the Northern Ireland conflict;11 such that its true dimensions have long been poorly presented and murkily grasped. There is a common line of socialscientific inquiry – running from Richard Rose’s landmark study Governing without Consensus (published in 1971), through John Whyte’s widely acclaimed Interpreting Northern Ireland (1990), to the now substantial oeuvre of McGarry and O’Leary – that displaces, through its specific analytical-empirical focus, systemic social-structural understanding.12 Where this turns out to be particularly prejudicial is in how all these scholars have emphasized the salience of religion and/or ethno-nationalism – as explanatory variables – over social class, whilst also questioning the extent of discrimination against Catholics and the overall scope of inequality. The common line adopted being that religion and ethno-nationalism are “more important in shaping people’s identifications than their class-locations,”13 that there is “no evidence of systematic discrimination against Catholics,”14 and that inequality is not a major cause of the conflict.15 Such readings are problematic, it can be argued, because they fail to grasp just how the basic structure of Northern Irish society has been systemically tied to a complex pattern of sectarian social relations that encompasses the whole polity and is inherently unequal and unjust. What is at issue here can best be drawn out by considering how John Whyte – in many ways a key influence on McGarry and O’Leary – approached his analysis of social structure and the question of “How much discrimination?” In Interpreting Northern Ireland, social-structural analysis, to the extent that it is addressed, is tied to surveying discrete forms of religious segregation (in terms of patterns of residence, education, and employment), which, importantly, are not actually seen to constitute an integrated whole that add up to a pattern of cumulative – mutually reinforcing – disadvantage: that is systemic sectarianism.16 Similarly, when it comes to the 10 11

12

13 14 15 16

Cf. Feagin, Systemic Racism. For a notable exception, see R. McVeigh and B. Rolston (2007) “From Good Friday to good relations: Sectarianism, racism and the Northern Irish state,” Race & Class 48(4), 1–23. Also see F. Burton (1978) The Politics of Legitimacy: Struggles in a Belfast Community, London, Routledge and Kegan Paul. R. Rose (1971) Governing without Consensus: An Irish Perspective, London, Faber and Faber; J. Whyte (1990) Interpreting Northern Ireland, Oxford, Clarendon Press; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements, Oxford, Oxford University Press. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, p. 154. Rose, Governing without Consensus, p. 293, emphasis added. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, ch. 7. Whyte, Interpreting Northern Ireland, see especially ch. 2.

312

Rupert Taylor

question of “how much discrimination was there under the Unionist regime,” Whyte’s approach, long-regarded as a most judicious analysis, is one that, as he openly acknowledges, does “not extend the meaning of discrimination to include structural inequality.”17 Admittedly, McGarry and O’Leary go further than this when they describe the Stormont regime as having been one of “hegemonic control” and “systematically organized domination”;18 but they view this and the question of discrimination as being a product of Unionist politics, not something inherent in the basic structure of Northern Irish society. The point to be grasped here is that the Northern Ireland problem can be redefined to be read in terms of causal chains which run back into and from the sectarian structure of Northern Irish society; thereby meaning that it is a question of this structure and the resulting injustice – not ethno-nationalism – that must be confronted and resolved. Here, sectarianism is to be interpreted not as a dependent variable (or, as Marxist analysis would have it, epiphenomena) relating to religious or ethno-national prejudice and bigotry, but as an irreducible and all pervasive structuring principle of socio-political relations that fuses religion, ethnicity, and class; under which Protestants – virtually self-perpetually – accumulated wealth, power, and opportunity at the expense of Catholics.19 It is not that hard to show that Northern Ireland has never been a land of equal opportunity: there have been marked disparities in the ownership of land and accumulation of wealth, and interlocking patterns of privilege and accumulated advantages with particular respect to residence, education, and employment. If this reading is accepted – which is further advanced below – the consequences run deep for the standing of consociational theory; namely, it follows that consociationalists proffer a misdirected (or at best partial) solution, and more than this it dictates that consociationalism itself must be understood to be compromised by the sectarian social structure of Northern Ireland.

Systemic sectarianism Nowhere, in fact, does the consociational approach adequately confront the fact that the basic structure of Northern Irish society has been, and remains, systematically centred on the sectarian dualism between Protestant and Catholic, which has insidiously fused religion, ethnicity, and class status whilst also fuelling inequality and injustice. For years, Protestants institutionalized power and wealth in their favour whilst Catholics correspondingly faced political and economic exclusion – and not just since the formation of 17

18 19

J. Whyte (1983) “How much discrimination was there under the Unionist regime, 1921–68?” in T. Gallagher and J. O’Connell (eds) Contemporary Irish Studies, Manchester, Manchester University Press, p. 1; Whyte repeats many of the arguments given here in Interpreting Northern Ireland. O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 133. Cf. Feagin, Systemic Racism.

The injustice of consociationalism

313

the Northern Ireland state (1920) but under centuries of British colonial rule that included land confiscation through the English and Scots plantation of Ulster and highly repressive penal laws that in terms of their severity “anticipated the twentieth-century system of apartheid.”20 Injustice was built into the forcefully imposed partition of Ireland. The border “was never legitimate from a democratic point of view,”21 and, as such, in Northern Ireland the authority and force of the law has rested upon extra-legal foundations. Under the Stormont dominant-party regime, the “major institutions that allocated rights, opportunities, and resources” worked together to ensure that Protestants secured cumulative material advantage, whilst Catholics accumulated disadvantage.22 For over 50 years not one Catholic held executive power in Northern Ireland, and very few held a senior judicial appointment.23 Indeed, it was resultant “substantial departures from justice,”24 that led to the rise of a civil-rights movement in the 1960s – and the subsequent outbreak of “the Troubles”; it was systematic discrimination, not ethno-nationalism, that “was the basis of Catholic uprising in the late 1960s.”25 The Campaign for Social Justice, and later the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association, thought and acted outside the sectarian social structure; in a number of areas they exposed the accumulation of socio-political and economic advantages for Protestants thereby challenging “the inequality at the heart of Northern Ireland’s politics.”26 Indeed, the Cameron Commission (1969) appointed to look into the “causes of disorders” spoke of a “sense of continuing injustice” and upheld grievances around the gerrymandering of electoral boundaries, unfair housing allocation, discriminatory employment practices, biased policing, and the misrule of law.27 Precisely because the civil-rights movement articulated and pushed protest outside and beyond sectarian social structures it provoked violent counterreaction, making a spiral of conflict virtually inevitable. The limits to the call 20

21

22

23 24 25

26

27

O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 69. By 1703, “more than 95 per cent of the land in eight of its nine counties [the Province of Ulster] was in Protestant hands”; Rose, Governing without Consensus, p. 79. In The Politics of Antagonism O’Leary and McGarry well describe the material roots of the conflict, but this is not at all well synthesized – here or later – with their consociational proclivities. Former Taoiseach Charles Haughey, statement to the New Ireland Forum; cited in Whyte, Interpreting Northern Ireland, p. 139. M. Farrell (1976) Northern Ireland: The Orange State, London, Pluto Press; E. McCann (1974) War and an Irish Town, Harmondsworth, Penguin. A. Corrigan (1969) Eye-Witness in Northern Ireland, Dungannon, published by the author, p. 28. Rose, Governing without Consensus, p. 438. D. O’Hearn (1983) “Catholic grievances, Catholic nationalism: A comment,” British Journal of Sociology 34(3), 438–45. M. MacDonald (1986) Children of Wrath: Political Violence in Northern Ireland, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. xi. Cameron Commission Report (1969) Disturbances in Northern Ireland, Government of Northern Ireland, Cmnd 532, Belfast, Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, para. 229.

314

Rupert Taylor

for civil rights were most dramatically exposed by events in Derry on Sunday 30 January, 1972 in which a march for civil rights – in this case against the injustice of internment without charge or trial (the suspension of habeas corpus) – ended in the murder of 14 unarmed people by British armed forces. It is certainly no exaggeration to say that Bloody Sunday “was a defining moment in the Northern Ireland conflict.”28 Before this day there was a sense in which the struggle against injustice could be peacefully pursued; Bloody Sunday pushed that prospect off the agenda. As lawyer Peter Madden has put it, the civil-rights movement was “murdered on that day,” as henceforth “armed struggle which had existed alongside the non-violent protest of the civil-rights movement became paramount.”29 An armed struggle that, to the Irish Republican Army, was justified precisely because of “the inherently unjust and undemocratic nature of the Northern Ireland state itself.”30 This moment of rupture is of some import in terms of consociational arguments, in as much as it articulates with McGarry and O’Leary’s focus on the question of ending paramilitary-motivated political violence, not ending injustice. But, as what McGarry and O’Leary choose to characterize as an “ethnic war” moved centre stage,31 what happened to the demands of the civil-rights movement? There is a consensus in mainstream scholarship on Northern Ireland – McGarry and O’Leary included – that as the British state took control through direct rule in 1972, the main concerns of the movement were largely addressed (at least in intent) through a series of reforms promoting equality of opportunity. But even if this is accepted, a prior question needs to be posed: How well did the civil-rights movement itself actually understand systemic sectarianism? Did it, in fact, at the time, really provide a cogent theoretical path to guide the political practice of those who sought to defy sectarianism and challenge the social order that it upholds? For, it can be argued that the civil-rights movement had “not accurately identified all the imbalances existing before 1968,”32 was overly focused on political and civic inclusion, failed to place justiciable rights upfront,33 and did not appreciate that civil rights alone would be insufficient to directly tackle the systemic inequalities of Northern Irish society.

28

29

30

31 32 33

J. Lynch (2006) “Turbulent times: Bloody Sunday and the civil rights movement,” Journal for Cultural Research 10(3), 275. P. Madden (2004) “The Northern Ireland experience,” Adalah’s Newsletter 6 (October), p. 1. Madden headed the legal team representing, to the Saville Inquiry, the majority of the families of those killed on Bloody Sunday. A. M. Clohesy (2000) “Provisionalism and the (im)possibility of justice in Northern Ireland,” in D. R. Howarth, A. J. Norval, and Y. Stavrakakis (eds) Discourse Theory and Political Analysis, Manchester, Manchester University Press, p. 70. O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 22. Whyte, Interpreting Northern Ireland, p. 256. R. Rose (1976) “On the priorities of citizenship in the Deep South and Northern Ireland,” Journal of Politics 38(2), 247–91.

The injustice of consociationalism

315

Given this, it is not surprising to find that more critical intellectual work argued that the civil-rights movement and subsequent reforms failed, in material terms, to “undercut Protestant privilege,”34 and that in effect from the start direct-rule reforms simply “incorporated and institutionalised” sectarian division “in new forms.”35 For years, the British government sought to adopt an official policy of non-sectarian neutrality, but because it sought to implement ostensibly fair policies within sectarian social structures it actually managed and reproduced sectarianism. Signally, even McGarry and O’Leary recognize that the Fair Employment Act of 1976 and the Fair Employment Agency (FEA) initiative “proved a failure as a means for correcting employment disparities.”36 The Fair Employment Act of 1989 and Fair Employment Commission both followed; and can, standing somewhat alone in this regard,37 be credited with making a difference.38 However, as the remit was circumscribed by concern with direct and indirect “discrimination” in the labour market and a lack of reach to monitor all those of working age in employment,39 these new measures “continued to prove limited in terms of securing greater socioeconomic equality of condition generally.”40 To turn, some seventy years after the foundation of the Northern Irish state, to insist on “equality of opportunity” at the point of recruitment through now requiring compulsory monitoring by employers and the setting of goals and targets for improving proportionality, could not seriously hope to address the full weight of past systemic sectarianism: such emphasis on numerical symmetry is misplaced, for why should the historically disadvantaged not be given more? Legislation against direct and indirect “discrimination” does not by itself secure equality. The upshot of all this is that at no point – from the heyday of the civilrights movement up to the Belfast Agreement – was the totality of systemic society-wide injustice fully revealed, seriously confronted, or put into real question through concerted political deliberation or action. Yet surely it 34 35

36 37

38

39

40

MacDonald, Children of Wrath, p. 82. L. O’Dowd, B. Rolston, and M. Tomlinson (1980) Northern Ireland: Between Civil Rights and Civil War, London, CSE Books, p. 65. O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 206. It is widely recognized that the more broadly conceived but poorly implemented Targeting Social Need (TSN) initiative – that sought to target social need “objectively” without favouring any religious community and was launched in 1991 – led to little positive advance; E. McLaughlin and P. Quirk (eds) (1996) Policy Aspects of Employment Equality, Belfast, Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights. R. D. Osborne and I. G. Shuttleworth (2005) Fair Employment in Northern Ireland: A Generation On, Belfast, Blackstaff. Still today monitoring covers only an estimated 69 per cent of those of working age in employment; The Committee on the Administration of Justice [CAJ] (2006) Equality in Northern Ireland: The Rhetoric and the Reality, Belfast, CAJ, p. 17. M. Hill, C. McAuley, E. McLaughlin, and F. Porter (2006) “Eighty years of talking about equality in Northern Ireland: A history of equality discourses and practices,” Equality and Social Inclusion in Ireland Project, Working paper no. 5, Queen’s University Belfast, p. 26.

316

Rupert Taylor

should be, as systemic sectarianism has – through its many interconnected elements – long sustained inequality. For many decades, precisely because of systemic sectarianism, it was very much the case that at a material level Catholics were more likely to be unemployed, in less prestigious jobs, subject to lower levels of income, and generally less wealthy.41 And whilst in more recent years, from the 1990s onwards, these inequalities have become less severe through a combination of piecemeal legislative reform (notably the aforementioned Fair Employment Act of 1989), civil society advocacy, and macroeconomic change, very significant disparities remain in all these areas. In particular, “Catholics continue to have lower levels of employment, lower levels of economic activity and higher representation in workless households.”42 The unemployment rate for Catholics (and especially men) continues to outstrip that for Protestants – being almost twice as high (8.3 per cent for Catholics, 4.3 per cent for Protestants), with also, as before, higher levels of long-term unemployment for Catholics.43 Notwithstanding levels of unemployment in Northern Ireland that are at a historical low (as for Great Britain), there are amongst the “hidden unemployed” some 40,000 people who want jobs but are economically inactive. In fact, Northern Ireland has the highest economic inactivity rate in the United Kingdom (at 27.7 per cent) where “in relation to the proportion of each religion in employment as a proportion of all those economically active and inactive of working age, the figure for Protestants is 72.5%, while the corresponding figure for Catholics is 62.9% … a gap of almost 10%.”44 Moreover, today close to a fifth of Catholics live in workless households.45 With respect to employment, now as before, there are continuing “major differences in labour market trends between the two communities.”46 In the private sector there is a “consistent pattern” with Catholics being overrepresented in the lower class occupations and under-represented in industrial middle-class occupations. Most notably, Catholics are under-represented in the energy, engineering, and transport sectors; as well as in “more than half of Northern Ireland’s fifteen largest companies.”47 Just consider the case 41

42 43

44 45 46 47

E. Aunger (1975) “Religion and occupational class in Northern Ireland,” Economic and Social Review 7(1), 1–18; Whyte, Interpreting Northern Ireland. CAJ (2007) Equality in Northern Ireland: The Rhetoric and the Reality, Executive Summary, p. 2. R. D. Osborne (2003) “Progressing the equality agenda in Northern Ireland,” Journal of Social Policy 32(2), p. 343; P. Shirlow and B. Murtagh (2006) Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City, London, Pluto Press, p. 127. Also see E. Hanvey, R. Marsh, S. Quigley, and F. Zuleeg (2005) Report on Labour Market Dynamics, Phase One: A Descriptive Analysis of the Northern Ireland Labour Market, DTZ Pieda Consulting, Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister. CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland, p. 62. CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland, p. 64. CAJ, Executive Summary, p. 1. Equality Commission for Northern Ireland (2006) 2005 Monitoring Report, Monitoring Report No. 16, A Profile of the Northern Ireland Workforce, Belfast, www.equalityni.org, p. 58; CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland, p. 47.

The injustice of consociationalism

317

of Northern Ireland’s second largest employer, Short Brothers: here, today, Catholic representation stands at 14.9 per cent (28 per cent below proportionality).48 In the now much larger public sector Catholics still find themselves lower on the ladder in the civil service (being over-represented in administrative and secretarial occupations) and seriously under-represented in the security-related sector (where Catholics constitute 12.9 per cent of fulltime employees).49 Also just consider district council employees: here today, for the two councils of Carrickfergus and Castlereagh, Catholic representation stands at 7.1 and 9.5 per cent respectively.50 Overall, in the labour market, “Protestants are still better off when it comes to finding a job for every level of qualification.”51 For many years, it was accepted that differences in level of income were not that great: Richard Rose’s 1968 Loyalty Survey (that underpinned Governing without Consensus) found the median weekly family income of both Protestants and Catholics broadly comparable.52 It is less often noted, however, that Rose calculated a difference index of reported earnings of 15 per cent and remarked that “Protestants who have some sort of qualification – whether a diploma, a degree or a certificate – are likely to enjoy higher wages than educated Catholics.”53 Taking this further, Vincent Covello and Jacqueline Ashby in a reanalysis of Rose’s data found that Protestants achieved an average of “$254 in annual income for each additional year of schooling compared to $159 for Catholics.”54 Moreover, McGarry and O’Leary themselves, in Explaining Northern Ireland, actually cite surveys from the mid-1980s that revealed some “34 per cent of Protestant households enjoyed incomes of over £10,000 per annum compared with 21 per cent of Catholic households.”55 Two decades on, a 2003 Democratic Dialogue survey, Bare Necessities, after highlighting that “Northern Ireland is one of the most unequal societies in the developed world,” found through employing a consensual poverty measure that “the level of poverty is 1.4 times as high in households where the household respondent is Catholic compared with households where the household respondent is Protestant.”56 48

49 50 51 52 53 54

55

56

Equality Commission, 2005 Monitoring Report, p. 148. The situation at Harland and Wolff is worse, with Catholic representation standing at 6.2 per cent (p. 128). Equality Commission, 2005 Monitoring Report, p. 23, p. 25. Equality Commission, 2005 Monitoring Report, p. 103. CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland, p. 119. Rose, Governing without Consensus, p. 289. Rose, Governing without Consensus, p. 289. V. T. Covello and J. A. Ashby (1980) “Inequality in a divided society: An analysis of data from Northern Ireland,” Sociological Focus 13(2), 94. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, p. 270. Also see D. J. Smith and G. Chambers (1991) Inequality in Northern Ireland, Oxford, Clarendon Press. P. Hillyard, G. Kelly, E. McLaughlin, D. Patsios, and M. Tomlinson (2003) Bare Necessities: Poverty and Social Exclusion in Northern Ireland, Democratic Dialogue report 16, Belfast, pp. 43, 64.

318

Rupert Taylor

It is not just, though, a question of lower Catholic income levels, it is also one of asset poverty. The ratio of Protestant to Catholic income is significant, but the ratio of Protestant to Catholic median net worth is wider. Not surprisingly, given the history of dispossession, there has been, and is, an “almost total absence of big business and landowning interests on the Catholic side.”57 Although data is not readily available, it cannot be denied that Protestant families today possess more property and financial assets than Catholic families. Crucially, wealth inequality matters far more than income inequality as it has “a cumulative effect that is passed down through inter-generational transfer, affecting life chances and opportunities for one’s children.”58 One strong indicator as to how all this has played itself out in recent years is that Catholics comprise just 19.5 per cent of those living in the top (most affluent) decile of census output areas, but a staggering 72.4 per cent of those residing in the lowest decile (most disadvantaged areas);59 Figure 17.1 presents the overall numeral distribution. All the dimensions of inequality pertaining to employment, income, and wealth cannot be analytically detached from sectarianism, and cannot be viewed in isolation from one another. They are all part of the broader matrix of systemic sectarianism – being interconnected, mutually reinforcing, and cumulative; and of course extending beyond the level of material reality, to be integrally related to the allocative workings in one way or another of all major public and private institutions. The total grip of this social system is well exemplified at the level of subjective consciousness through the phenomenon of “telling,” in which sectarianism forms “a normal process of thinking,”60 as well as a myriad of ways in which sectarianism “is produced and reproduced daily in … local everyday experience.”61 It is also well shown by how spatial relations (themselves not neutrally determined) connect with socio-economic inequality to produce cumulative disadvantage: one initial enquiry found that “geographical location accounts for 27 per cent of the difference between Catholic and Protestant unemployment rates.”62 More recently, Peter Shirlow and Brendan Murtagh have 57

58

59

60

61

62

L. O’Dowd (1980) “Shaping and reshaping the Orange State: An introductory analysis,” in O’Dowd, Rolston, and Tomlinson, Between Civil Rights and Civil War, p. 14. C. W. Mills (1997) The Racial Contract, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, 1997, p. 37. Also see Barry, Why Social Justice Matters. Special European Union Programmes Body [SEUPB] (2005) Community Uptake Analysis of Peace II, Belfast, SEUPB, p. 25. Burton, The Politics of Legitimacy, p. 37; F. Burton (1979) “Ideological social relations in Northern Ireland,” British Journal of Sociology 30(1), 61–80. R. Jenkins (2006) “When politics and social theory converge: Group identification and group rights in Northern Ireland,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 12(3/4), 398. Whyte, “How much discrimination was there,” p. 15; the study in question being P. A. Compton (1981) “Demographic and geographical aspects of the unemployment differential between Protestants and Roman Catholics in Northern Ireland,” in P. A. Compton (ed.) The Contemporary Population of Northern Ireland and Population-Related Issues, Belfast, Institute of Irish Studies, pp. 127–42.

The injustice of consociationalism

319

Figure 17.1 Distribution of population by affluence/deprivation (2001) Source: Adapted from Special European Union Programmes Body (2005) Community Uptake Analysis of Peace II, Belfast, SEUPB, p. 26. SEUPB statistics derived from Census of Population (2001) and Noble Index of Deprivation (2001) data. (The Noble Index represents multiple indicators across several domains, including employment and income.) Note: The 1st decile refers to the most affluent 10 per cent of the census output areas, the 10th decile to the most disadvantaged.

highlighted, through survey research, how the physical location of employment reproduces sectarianism; they found “a mere one in eight people worked in areas dominated by the ‘other’ community.”63 From this reading, systemic sectarianism embeds the political construction of ethno-national contestation between the two communities. Systemic sectarianism structures and is inherent in the relationship between Protestants and Catholics; it is not ethno-nationalism in and of itself that has shaped the segregation of Northern Ireland into two communities. The point is that whilst ethno-national identity politics have certainly emerged, this can only be understood and addressed when located within the set of material, social, and ideological processes that generate and reproduce them. So, contrary to the reading of McGarry and O’Leary it is not the case that ethno-nationalism trumps material analysis, or indeed that sectarianism is simply a case of psychologically driven religious prejudice and bigotry.64 To constantly criticize Marxist interpretations for their over-concentration on material factors is misdirection;65 for economic factors cannot be abstracted from what is presented here as systemic sectarianism.66 The idea that it is a question of 63 64 65 66

Shirlow and Murtagh, Belfast, p. 85. Both these positions are argued at length in McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, ch. 7; and see p. 83 this volume. Liam O’Dowd puts it well when he write that class relations are “only experienced as sectarian class relations”; O’Dowd, “Shaping and reshaping,” p. 26.

320

Rupert Taylor

ethno-nationalism or economic determinism is too sociologically reductionist and non-dialectical; it obscures the actual nature of the Northern Ireland problem and results in misdirected (or at best partial) solutions being proffered.

Consociational solution? The centrality of systemic sectarianism cannot be ignored by McGarry and O’Leary because consociational politics itself must be understood in relation to the sectarian social structure of Northern Ireland. In fact, precisely because consociational theory is formulated from and imposed on a sectarian social structure that is sociologically taken for granted, it remains grounded in the very structures it aspires to transcend, contributes to their reproduction, and proves incapable of addressing the scope of injustice linked to systemic sectarianism. This can be shown in terms of how the Belfast Agreement reinforces and perpetuates sectarian division, and fails to challenge inequality. In particular, it is clear that whatever it has achieved in terms of securing an end to paramilitary-motivated political violence and the constitutional accommodation of political elites, the Agreement has not marked the birth of a “post-conflict,” non-sectarian era. The Agreement, as a consociational solution, has through its key institutional aggregation mechanisms, entrenched, encouraged, and even rewarded those who pursue strategic sectarian ethno-national calculations and interests – as is evident from the requirement for group designation in the Assembly, the politics of Executive formation, and the effects of the mandated electoral system.67 The 108 elected members of the Assembly have no choice but to follow communal registration as “nationalist, unionist, or other”;68 a move that locks members into sectarian groupthink and restricts freedom of association. When it comes to Executive formation, the type of power-sharing advocated is one of an involuntary coalition that does little to build any sense of collective responsibility across the sectarian divide. In practice, Executive-level politics revolves around securing ministerial power and influence “in order to assert the rights of [the] respective communities.”69 The mandated electoral system of PR-STV (proportional representation with single transferable vote) has not helped moderate voting behaviour,70 but 67

68

69

70

R. Taylor (2006) “The Belfast Agreement and the politics of consociationalism: A critique,” Political Quarterly 77(2), 217–26. Also see A. Oberschall and L. K. Palmer (2005) “The failure of moderate politics: The case of Northern Ireland,” in I. O’Flynn and D. Russell (eds) Power Sharing: New Challenges for Divided Societies, London, Pluto Press, pp. 77–91. The Agreement: Agreement Reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations (April 10, 1998), Cmnd 3883, www.nio.gov.uk/agreement.pdf A. Maginness (2002) “Redefining northern nationalism,” in J. Coakley (ed.) Changing Shades of Orange and Green: Redefining the Union and the Nation in Contemporary Ireland, Dublin, University College Dublin Press, p. 37. B. Reilly (2001) Democracy in Divided Societies: Electoral Engineering for Conflict Management, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 134–41.

The injustice of consociationalism

321

has, through pursuit of strategic tactics, served to strengthen communal bloc voting.71 In fact, as shown in Table 17.1, since the first Assembly election of June 1998 there has been a centrifugal shift in voting patterns resulting in more concentrated unionist and nationalist blocs with the more hard-line parties – the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and Sinn Féin – coming out on top. In the third Assembly election of March 2007 the DUP gained 36 seats (16 more than in 1998) and Sinn Féin 28 seats (an increase of 10), whilst the more moderate parties lost out: the Ulster Unionists losing 10 seats, and the Social Democratic and Labour Party 8 seats over this period. In all these ways, the Agreement has promoted a “positional logic” of furthering and maximizing ethno-national group advantage.72 More than this, the Agreement seeks to actively promote recognition of the two ethno-national communities (unionist and nationalist), over and above any question of redistributive issues. And to the extent that the Agreement advances a bill of rights and an equality agenda, it talks past the totality of systemic sectarianism. Specifically, in terms of “two traditions,” new-fashioned anti-discrimination legislation and public policies seek to advance “mutual respect” (as, for example, in the regulation of the use of symbols and emblems), as well as “parity of esteem” for cultural difference (as in support for the Irish and Ulster Scots languages).73 Here, formal equality is tied to group membership and a notion of balance between the two ethno-national communities. As in mainstream multiculturalism, the intent is to grant due respect and selfesteem to group identities, “while leaving intact both the contents of those identities and the group differentiations that underlie them.”74 The problem with this formulation however, is that the idea that the “two communities” should and can, in these terms, be treated equally, flies in the face of the realities of systemic sectarianism. For why should the two ethno-national groups be taken as is and treated equally when the history of Northern Ireland has been one of Unionist domination and nationalist subordination? As has been argued, systemic sectarianism results in one side not being as badly off as the other. McGarry and O’Leary would like us to believe that “in Northern Ireland authentic equality requires that both groups’ (national) identities be accepted as equally valid and legitimate,”75 but this is a circle that cannot be squared. Moreover, such deep concern for “two traditions” is problematic in so far as the idea of there being two strongly opposed communities is just that: an 71

72

73

74

75

W. A. Hazleton (2004) “Suspended vote: The 2003 Northern Ireland Assembly election,” Political Quarterly 75(3), 226–37. A. Aughey (2005) The Politics of Northern Ireland: Beyond the Belfast Agreement, London, Routledge. K. Hayward and C. Mitchell (2003) “Discourses of equality in post-Agreement Northern Ireland,” Comparative Politics 9(3), 293–312. N. Fraser (2004) “Institutionalizing democratic justice: Redistribution, recognition, and participation,” in S. Benhabib and N. Fraser (eds) Pragmatism, Critique, Judgment: Essays for Richard J. Bernstein, Cambridge, MA, MIT Press, p. 134. McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, p. 286.

322

Rupert Taylor

Table 17.1 Assembly election results, seats held 1998–2007

Ulster Unionist Party Social Democratic and Labour Party Democratic Unionist Party Sinn Féin Alliance Party Others

1998

2003

2007

+/−

28 24 20 18 6 12

27 18 30 24 6 3

18 16 36 28 7 3

−10 −8 +16 +10 +1 −9

Source: Northern Ireland Elections, www.ark.ac.uk/elections/

idea. The existence of two ethno-national groups is not, as Máiréad Nic Craith has written, “the natural or authentic consequence of an ancient state of affairs,”76 but, as argued here, a socially constructed frame that is integral to systemic sectarianism. Hence, in this context, talk of “mutual respect” and “parity of esteem” simply works to reinforce the hegemony of this frame and to compromise any rights agenda. The Agreement stipulates that in drawing up a bill of rights, the Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission has to “reflect the principles of mutual respect for the identity and ethos of both communities and parity of esteem.”77 But it is not easy to see how such “separate but equal” group rights could possibly be theoretically substantiated.78 As Christopher McCrudden has modestly put it: “establishing the appropriate relationships between international human rights law and consociational arrangements is likely to be a complex interpretative task.”79 More to the point such concern is misdirected. In the terms of this chapter, concern should surely be directed to advance and deliver socio-economic rights for those who have been subject to the injustice of systemic sectarianism. Some form of socio-political recognition, not for respect or esteem, but for the moral validity of positive claims to redress injustice, is necessary.80 The equality agenda that is tied to the Agreement undoubtedly represents an advance on previous initiatives, both in terms of funding and scope.81 For now, the debate has been pushed beyond that of “discrimination” per se to the 76

77 78

79

80

81

M. Nic Craith (2002) Plural Identities – Singular Narratives: The Case of Northern Ireland, New York, Berghahn, p. 89. The Agreement, “Rights, Safeguards and Equality of Opportunity,” para. 4. M. Meehan (2001) “Towards a Northern Ireland Bill of Rights,” Liverpool Law Review 23(1), 33–56. Also consider, R. Taylor (1990) “South Africa: Consociation or democracy?” Telos 85, 17–32. C. McCrudden (2006) “Consociationalism, equality and minorities in the Northern Ireland Bill of Rights debate,” University of Oxford Faculty of Law, Legal studies research paper series, Working paper 6/2006, p. 3. Consider, D. Darby (2006) “Do South Africans have social rights?” Unpublished paper, School of Law, University of Kansas. Also see C. R. Sunstein (2001) Designing Democracy: What Constitutions Do, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Hill et al., “Eighty years of talking about equality.”

The injustice of consociationalism

323

provision of proactive measures to further equality of opportunity. In the light of the Agreement, Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act 1998 placed a statutory duty on public authorities to promote “equality of opportunity” between “persons of different religious belief, political opinion, racial group, age, marital status or sexual orientation.”82 What, though, does “equality of opportunity” actually mean in the context of Northern Irish society? How progressive is this agenda when set against the full impact of the historical legacy of systemic sectarianism? The Westminster parliament expediently avoided providing any legislatively binding definition of “equality of opportunity.”83 Under the aegis of a new Equality Commission for Northern Ireland, equality of opportunity is tied to statutory mechanisms “for ‘mainstreaming’ equality in the policy-making process”;84 but with the one exception of stipulating that Protestants and Catholics must be recruited on a 50:50 basis for the Police Service of Northern Ireland for at least ten years,85 reform falls short of broader affirmative action plans to provide corrective justice. This was defended on what can only be seen to be, in the context of systemic sectarianism, a circular logic: that any such affirmative action would constitute ethnic discrimination. As Richard Jenkins has argued, as the Fair Employment Act generally proscribes ethnic discrimination, it works to ensure “group rights of a fairly substantial sort.”86 What this means is that the new equity initiatives have restricted purchase as they are hardly enacted on a level playing field – equality before the law and equal opportunity are hollowed out, as the import of systemic sectarianism is not factored into the analysis. The Equality Commission recognizes that “the evidence suggests that many people still experience persistent inequality in many areas” (including employment),87 but fails to grasp that its specific understanding of “equality” (although more encompassing than before in that it also addresses gender, sexual orientation, disability, and “race”) is not enough to address all this. More is required.88 Even as things stand, the Commission is falling short: it suffers from “a number of operational problems”; lacks strategic direction; does not focus enough on impacts; does little to encourage “joined-up” 82 83

84 85

86 87

88

Northern Ireland Act 1998, www.opsi.gov.uk/acts C. McCrudden (1999) “Mainstreaming equality in the governance of Northern Ireland,” Fordham International Law Journal 22, 1768–69. R. D. Osborne (2007) “‘Evidence’ and equality in Northern Ireland,” Evidence & Policy 3(1), 80. As of mid-February 2008, the Catholic proportion of full-time police officers stood at around 24 per cent; House of Commons Hansard, Written Ministerial Statements, March 5, 2008, 472(60), column 114WS. Jenkins, “When politics and social theory converge,” p. 401. Equality Commission for Northern Ireland (2007) “Statement on key inequalities in Northern Ireland,” www.equalityni.org Also consider, R. Wilson (2007) “Rhetoric meets reality: Northern Ireland’s equality agenda,” Benefits 15(2), who argues for “a much broader assault on inequality than reliance on the legal or administrative tools created by anti-discrimination legislation” (p. 154). Also see webpage of the Equality Coalition through www.communityni.org

324

Rupert Taylor

egalitarian public policy; and, has an ineffective litigation strategy.89 In particular, a recent independent “audit of compliance” discovered that 45 per cent “of the public bodies sampled were below the minimum level of compliance in screening and equality impact assessment,”90 and Martin O’Brien, former director of the Committee for the Administration of Justice, has maintained that “experience has been that the closer one gets to central government the poorer the application of Section 75 seems to be.”91 Especially worrisome is the extent to which the Housing Executive is falling short of its Section 75 obligations; Catholics, today, spend on average one and a half times as long on public housing waiting lists as Protestants.92 In North Belfast, for example, as of March 2004, Catholics constituted 83 per cent of those in the “urgent need” category (2 per cent higher than four years earlier).93 Inequality, in all its dimensions, remains to far too many people an unquestionable experiential reality. Today, some people are, relatively speaking, materially worse off than they were before the Agreement was signed – ten years ago.94 In terms of the Gini coefficient, “inequality in Northern Ireland is increasing,”95 and Catholic working-class communities that were the most disadvantaged when the Troubles began 40 years ago remain the most disadvantaged today.96 Moreover, in other ways it is far from being the case that the consociational settlement has led to a “postconflict” society in which sectarianism has become a thing of the past.97 It is not hard to show that sectarianism, expressed in terms of political behaviour (as already argued with respect to voting) is “alive and well,” and has even become more overt in the post-Agreement era.98 And this is not something that can simply be dismissed on the grounds that it is a fact of life in Northern Ireland, as Jonathan Tonge would like to convince us when he writes: “Registering concern over sectarian politics in Northern Ireland could be seen as the political equivalent of protesting that night follows

89

90

91 92 93

94 95 96 97 98

E. McLaughlin and N. Faris (2004) Section 75 Review. The Section 75 Equality Duty: An Operational Review, A report prepared for the Northern Ireland Office (2 vols); also see Hill et al., “Eighty years of talking about equality,” p. 30. P. McGill (2007) “Section 75 must be more effective and focus on impacts,” Scope, September, p. 12; also see Editorial for same issue, “Equality, substance not process,” p. 4. “CAJ response to Section 75 review, September 2005.” CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland, p. 78. E. Rooney (2005) “Waiting for equality: The North Belfast waiting list,” research commissioned by St Patrick’s & St Joseph’s Housing Committee, Belfast, p. 3. CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland. P. Hillyard et al., Bare Necessities, p. 43. Wilson, “Rhetoric meets reality,” p. 157. Edwards, “Interpreting the conflict,” p. 138. McVeigh and Rolston, “From Good Friday to good relations,” p. 10; Tonge, The New Northern Irish Politics, p. 190. Also view BBC One, “Panorama: Divide and rule,” April 7, 2008, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/panorama/7334308.stm

The injustice of consociationalism

325

day.”99 In truth, sectarian violence persists and community relations remain far from good – and this must be cause for concern. Despite the statistics presented by McGarry and O’Leary that show a dramatic decline in the number of people killed in conflict-related violence since the beginning of 1998,100 in post-Agreement years there has been increased paramilitary violence in the form of shootings, beatings, and injuries.101 Moreover, in a detailed report for the Institute for Conflict Research, Neil Jarman has amassed a substantial body of evidence to show that sectarian violence continues to exist “with little consistent publicity, sustained opposition or structured policy responses.”102 It is not just that disputes over parades (notably, at Drumcree) and violent interface incidents continue to hit the headlines (as with the Holy Cross Primary School dispute in north Belfast or the Short Strand–Cluan Place interface in east Belfast), but that “at least 17 [more peace] barriers have been built, extended or heightened in Belfast since the ceasefires of 1994,” and none removed.103 In addition there has been a rise in the number of attacks on the property of the Orange Order and Gaelic Athletic Association.104 Disconcertingly, fewer Protestants and Catholics are prepared to “live in a mixed religion neighbourhood,”105 and those that do are increasingly likely to encounter intimidation.106 Today, it is reckoned that integrated housing estates constitute “less than 10 per cent of public-sector social housing.”107 And similar patterns are evident at places where people are schooled and employed.108 Under the Agreement, there has been a marked failure to successfully devise social policies to address the continuing salience of deep communal divisions. Indeed, if anything, as the Committee on the Administration of Justice report Equality in Northern Ireland puts it, “government is introducing measures which, instead of reducing community divisions, can only exacerbate them.”109 In terms of community relations policy, the Executive 99

Tonge, The New Northern Irish Politics, p. 147. See p. 52, Table 1.1. 101 R. Wilford and R. Wilson (2003) A Route to Stability: The Review of the Belfast Agreement, Belfast, Democratic Dialogue, August, p. 8, http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/dd/papers/dd03agreview.pdf 102 N. Jarman (2005) No Longer a Problem? Sectarian Violence in Northern Ireland, Belfast, Institute for Conflict Research, p. 4. 103 Jarman, No Longer a Problem? pp. 3, 27. 104 Shirlow and Murtagh, Belfast, p. 3. 105 J. Hughes and C. Donnelly (2003) “Community relations in Northern Ireland: A shift in attitudes?” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 29(4), p. 652. 106 Jarman writes that “since the paramilitary ceasefires … nearly 14,000 people have sought rehousing due to intimidation”; Jarman, No Longer a Problem? p. 24. 107 B. Graham and C. Nash (2006) “A shared future: Territoriality, pluralism and public policy in Northern Ireland,” Political Geography 25(3), 272. According to Shirlow and Murtagh’s survey research, in 2004 “a mere 10.7 per cent of Catholics and 7.0 per cent of Protestants live in places that are between 41 and 60 per cent Catholic or Protestant, places that could be described as mixed”; Shirlow and Murtagh, Belfast, p. 60. 108 Northern Ireland Life and Times surveys, www.ark.ac.uk/nilt/ 109 CAJ, Equality in Northern Ireland. 100

326

Rupert Taylor

has sought to promote “good relations” and “a shared future” – but to little avail. In particular, the A Shared Future consultation paper of 2003 argued that the aim must be development of “a more shared and pluralist society.”110 The question, though, is: How can this be achieved when – as is the case – key terms such as “sectarianism” remain undefined, and there is no attempt to address fundamental patterns of inequality? In truth, as Robbie McVeigh argues, “What most communities … need is equality and justice not ‘relations’ or ‘development.’”111 In any event, under the DUP– Sinn Féin pact, this initiative has now been put on the back burner; and it would seem that the Ulster Unionist Party has no stamina to push the matter – former Unionist Party leader David Trimble is on record as having stated: “We do not think it is desirable to try to homogenize society. We accept that there are differences.”112 So much then for, here as elsewhere, the justice of what consocationalism mandates. The recurring problem is that consociationalism is theoretically – and therefore practically – ill-equipped to confront the injustice of systemic sectarianism; and indeed in all the ways in which it has been shown above to fall short, is itself guilty, by default, of perpetuating injustice. Intrinsically, the work of consociational scholars such as McGarry and O’Leary, does not go far enough in sociologically interrogating and displacing the basic structure of the society to which their theory is applied and therefore ends up becoming a part of, and adding to, the very problem they seek to resolve. Put another way: justice for “the deaths of thousands” demands more than consociationalism can provide.113

Social transformation The application of consociational theory to Northern Ireland is a creative attempt to overcome the failure of predominant theoretical traditions in contemporary political theory – notably liberalism and Marxism – to solve the Northern Ireland problem, but consociationalists (like those before them) fail to fully grasp the complex sociological terrain that has to be navigated in order to achieve intellectual coherence. Most importantly, as argued here, there is a failure to grasp recognition of, and provide rectification for, how 110

Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister [OFMDFM] (2003) A Shared Future: A Consultation Paper on Improving Relations in Northern Ireland, Belfast, p. 6. Also see OFMDFM (2004) Good Relations Policy and Strategic Framework for Northern Ireland, Draft, Belfast; and OFMDFM (2005) A Shared Future: Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland, Belfast, www.asharedfutureni.gov.uk 111 R. McVeigh (2002) “Between reconciliation and pacification: The British state and community relations in the north of Ireland,” Community Development Journal 37(1), 57. 112 Trimble quoted in C. Farrington (2006) Ulster Unionism and the Peace Process in Northern Ireland, Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, p. 162. 113 The pattern of killings clearly show that Catholics have “suffered both absolutely and relatively more” than Protestants; O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 34.

The injustice of consociationalism

327

systemic sectarianism has – as a fused amalgam of religion, ethnicity, and class – fueled, and continues to fuel, injustice. Consociationalism seeks an end to the politics of antagonism through a politics of accommodation that eschews critical confrontation with the underlying social structures that generate injustice. Yet surely, given the reality of systemic sectarianism, it is precisely such a critical perspective that aims at understanding and transforming the underlying nature of Northern Irish society that is required and has to be advanced.114 Only thus, could everyone then fully realize what made things the way they are, and what – with due democratic deliberation – they could become. Essentially, the social transformation approach challenges ethno-national group politics in favour of a democratic, non-sectarian future.115 Further to its representation by McGarry and O’Leary as advocating bottom-up change and social integration,116 social transformation rests on adopting a critical sociological understanding concerned with social justice and the recognition that this can only be achieved by bringing systemic sectarianism to a definitive end.117 This approach dictates promoting a deeper understanding of and debate over “the oppressive features” of Northern Irish society that will stimulate people “to transform their society and thereby liberate themselves.”118 At one level this entails promoting contact, reconciliation, and desegregation through cross-community networks and initiatives, and especially integrated education,119 but far more than this makes up a social transformation agenda; for genuine integration cannot proceed under conditions of inequality and injustice. Specifically, concern should be given to formulating public policies that root out enduring inequality, as well as to encouraging greater deliberative interaction within civil society (within voluntary associations and community organizations) geared to challenging injustice. Public policies could, for example, intervene in the way by which unjust advantages of one generation are transmitted to the next by implementing measures, such as a wealth tax, that would generally ensure approximate material equality among Protestants and Catholics; as well as by compensating for cumulative disadvantage through effective affirmative action Consider, Fraser, “Institutionalizing democratic justice.” R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 37–52. 116 See pp. 20–21. 117 Cf. S. O’Neill (2003) “Justice in ethnically diverse societies,” Ethnicities 3(3), 369–92. 118 B. Fay (1987) Critical Social Science: Liberation and its Limits, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, p. 4. 119 Inter-group contact can, and does, lead to an erosion of sectarian outlooks; see B. C. Hayes, I. McAllister, and L. Dowds (2007) “Integrated education, intergroup relations, and political identities in Northern Ireland,” Social Problems 54(4), 454–82; and M. Hewstone, E. Cairns, A. Voci, J. Hamberger, and U. Niens (2006) “Intergroup contact, forgiveness, and experience of ‘the Troubles’ in Northern Ireland,” Journal of Social Issues 62(1), 99–120. 114 115

328

Rupert Taylor

(corrective justice) legislation – for, this would “remedy previously unjust decisions that made existing patterns of distribution even more unfair than they otherwise would have been.”120 Moreover, as already indicated, a bill of rights should provide for an extensive set of proactive socio-economic rights. In all of this there is much scope to intellectually and publicly construct, through decision-orientated deliberation, a richer sense of how to address and think beyond the pervasive complexity of sectarianism – to pioneer reform policies and innovative social experiments that have as yet been untried in Northern Ireland. Beyond issues of employment equity, this could involve basic income grants, subsidized mortgages, enterprise development, strategic investment, small business loans, and preferential public procurement.121 Furthermore, to such ends, progressive civic engagement can be furthered through such initiatives as deliberative opinion polling, citizens’ panels and juries, and public issue forums.122 Of course, there can be no quick or easy answers as how best to pursue good deliberation in a society beset by such deep injustice; but there is plenty of opportunity to develop the kind of small-scale and cumulatively effective experiments in deliberation proposed by Jürg Steiner and colleagues.123 Generally then, the pursuit of social transformation requires a turn to deliberative democratic politics;124 which as an approach seeks to “broaden perspectives, promote toleration and understanding between groups, and generally encourage a public-spirited attitude.”125 And it suggests that in terms of “what justice mandates,” there is much to be gained if at the level of meta-deliberation, the Belfast Agreement be supplemented – and thereafter revised or succeeded – by some kind of “Deliberation Day” initiative,126 whereby people would meet in a series of small- and large-group sessions (citizen assemblies) to engage in deliberative debate on transforming systemic sectarianism and to creatively consider the best political design for a constitutional convention or forum at which elected delegates would meet 120

I. Katznelson (2003) When Affirmative Action was White: An Untold History of Racial Inequality in Twentieth-Century America, New York, Norton, p. 149. 121 Consider, Barry, Why Social Justice Matters. 122 In general, see P. C. Schmitter (2003) “A sketch of what a ‘post-liberal’ democracy might look like,” unpublished paper, Florence, Italy, European University Institute. In particular, consider Atlantic Philanthropies’ creative grant-making support for the cross-community Suffolk Lenadoon Interface Group, and for deliberative polling on shared education; see C. Knox (2006) “Suffolk and Lenadoon communities: A peace building plan,” unpublished paper, School of Policy Studies, University of Ulster; and Newcastle University (2007) “Press release. Northern Ireland’s first ‘deliberative poll,’” January 31. 123 J. Steiner, A. Bächtiger, M. Spörndli, and M. R. Steenbergen (2004) Deliberative Politics in Action: Analyzing Parliamentary Debates, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. 124 Also see Taylor “The Belfast Agreement.” 125 S. Chambers (2003) “Deliberative democratic theory,” Annual Review of Political Science 6, 318. Also consider, I. O’Flynn (2006) Deliberative Democracy and Divided Societies, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press. 126 B. Ackerman and J. S. Fishkin (2004) Deliberation Day, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press.

The injustice of consociationalism

329

to collectively confront past and present injustice and to ask the question: “What is good for the political future of us all?” It is apposite to conclude with reference to Rose’s oft-quoted (and for years widely accepted) reading of the Northern Ireland problem: namely that, “the problem is that there is no solution.”127 McGarry and O’Leary believe this has been turned around; that the application of consociational theory provides the solution and has helped to deliver “peace” after so much conflict. As argued in this chapter, however, whatever its pragmatic merits, consociational theory rests on misreading the problem to be solved. Consociationalism fails to make systemic sectarianism the object of critical reflection – and yet without making just such a move there can be no solution capable of delivering a peace with justice for the deaths of thousands.

127

R. Rose (1976) Northern Ireland: A Time of Choice, London, Macmillan, p. 139.

Part III

Response

18 Under friendly and less-friendly fire John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Introduction We are indebted to Rupert Taylor and all the contributors to this volume for engaging our work. Some support our arguments, strongly or mildly. Some were so kind that we feared our retirement Festschrift had been prematurely drafted. We need not have worried. Others remain entirely unreconciled, but their continuing disagreement enables readers to appraise the debate, and we owe them Oscar Wilde’s judgement, “There is only one thing worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”1 There has been a thaw in some of our critics’ positions. Liam O’Dowd identifies “areas where McGarry and O’Leary’s analysis is more theoretically and empirically convincing than that of their critics.”2 Taylor talks of consociation’s “pragmatic merits” and acknowledges that the Agreement has helped to secure “an end to paramilitary-motivated political violence.”3 Ian O’Flynn now supports consociation, though he is opposed to the use of the d’Hondt algorithm for executive formation. Rick Wilford has revised his position from that of an atheist in respect to consociation to that of an agnostic, and sees merit in our “artful” revision of consociational theory,4 which emphasizes its liberal credentials. Stephen Farry also sees worth in liberal consociation. Notwithstanding this cracking of the ice we were unable to assimilate our critics. Regardless of what we thought were solid rebuttals of our critics’ standard arguments – “getting our retaliation in first” in traditional Irish style – several of these positions have resurfaced in our critics’ responses, often without reference to the evidence or logic we presented. We were tempted to respond by asking some critics to reread our “Argument” but resisted. When misreading occurs it may be the fault of the authors not of their readers. We reply to authors, seriatim, respecting their full individuality. Where they share the same argument as another we usually respond in order of the editor’s line-up. 1 2 3 4

Oscar Wilde’s (1994 [1890]) The Picture of Dorian Gray, London, Penguin, ch. 1. See p. 296. See pp. 329, 320. See p. 194.

334

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Shane O’Neill: emancipationism Shane O’Neill provides an extraordinarily generous assessment of our work. To receive praise from such a high-minded and principled philosopher of his distinction is flattering. He bears the famous name of one of the last Gaelic chiefs, who was murdered by the MacDonnells near Cushendun village not far from where we went to school. We felt a friendly primordial hand from history on our shoulders rather than a headless ghost, but doubt if O’Neill’s evaluation is widely shared. O’Neill’s chapter distinguishes two types of liberalism, one individualist, and one we might call socially liberal. This distinction is not quite the same as that between those who favour negative and positive liberty respectively, but it is related. The individualist approach creates serious injustice when applied to national and ethno-national conflicts (exemplified in Robin Wilson’s chapter). Social liberalism affirms the positive consequences of collective group identity, and recognition for the successful flourishing of individual and group freedom. O’Neill rightly suggests we make these assumptions, and emphasizes that our endorsement of liberal consociation means that we must look benignly on those who successfully (or otherwise) mobilize under different collective identities to those of nationality, religion, or ethnicity, and upon any voluntary breakdown of collective group identities. He admonishes us, however, not to leave the “emancipationist” label to those who oppose liberal consociation, because our position is consistent with welcoming emancipation from constraining and antagonistic identities. Since we argued that consociational arrangements might be consistently defended as transitional to institutions that permit other identities to flourish, O’Neill is right that we should not leave the rhetoric of “emancipationism” to others. We owe him an explanation. The language of “emancipationism” has struck us as exaggerated. Neither Irish nationalists nor Ulster unionists have recently been collectively “enslaved.” If these identities were enforced, then their subjects wear their chains lightly. It would be patronizing to deem them “happy slaves.” Emancipationists have operated, it seems to us, with a version of the theory of false consciousness, which implies that with better education, or “correct” ideology, Irish nationalists or Ulster unionists would break their shackles and emerge as cosmopolites. We did not wish to be associated with such convictions. Our position may be deemed partly conservative. Security, including security of collective identity and recognition, eases the just and equal recognition of others, and their rights. Security enables openness to transformation. In Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit recognition cannot be mutually satisfying if the respective parties are master and slave.5 O’Neill suggests that equality between nationalities makes possible a mutual 5

G. W. F. Hegel (1977) Phenomenology of Spirit, Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Response

335

recognition, which may enable subsequent transformations of all the parties. We share that analysis, and hope. However, some collective group identities appear to require superiority rather than parity of esteem. That has often been Sinn Féin’s assessment of Ulster unionism, which it claims is an ideology founded in settler dominance and which cannot live with equality.6 The decades ahead will test this thesis. We owe O’Neill another acknowledgement. He suggests our politics are a form of “post-nationalism,” because we have been consistently against coercive assimilationism. Fair enough, but we emphasize we have no objections to consensual nation-states in which there is voluntary assimilation, though few states meet this description.

Adrian Guelke: causality and demography Having praised us for coining the term “a cold peace,”7 Adrian Guelke suggests we have come to resemble Dr Pangloss in Voltaire’s Candide. The French philosopher satirized Leibniz, who was held to believe that we were living in the best of all possible worlds. Guelke must know that Leibniz was the most sophisticated Catholic propagandist of his era, and an advocate of the restoration of the universal authority of the Empire and of the Church,8 but we shall assume that Guelke is not suggesting that we have some papist and Holy Roman imperial agenda. Guelke’s tacit reference to Leibniz enables us to express solely secular agreements with the German philosopher.9 Leibniz thought political life was made possible by “negotiations and discussions,” rather than by “mandates given from the plenitude of power.” He would have recognized the difficulties in the doctrine of the unconstrained legal supremacy of the Crown-inParliament. He was an early critic of the extremes to which some took the modern doctrine of sovereignty. “Hobbes’s fallacy,” he said, “lies in this, that he thinks that things which can entail inconvenience should not be borne at all,” a view Leibniz deemed “foreign to the nature of human affairs.”10 Leibniz realized that humans, in fact, sought to make their lives better with compromises, and he did not consistently maintain that our problems were all optimally solved by providence – as Voltaire suggested. 6

7

8

9 10

For an independent analysis, which takes a similar line, see P. Clayton (1996) Enemies and Passing Friends: Settler Ideologies in Twentieth Century Ulster, London, Pluto Press. This expression was first used in B. O’Leary (1995) “Introduction: Reflections on a cold peace,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 18(4), 695–714; and in B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (eds) (1995) A State of Truce: Northern Ireland after Twenty-Five Years of War (special issue), Ethnic and Racial Studies 18(4), 715–739. See M. Stewart (2006) The Courtier and the Heretic: Leibniz, Spinoza, and the Fate of God in the Modern World, New York, W. W. Norton. On matters of theology we are with Spinoza and the atheists. All citations from P. Riley (1976) “Three seventeenth century German theorists of federalism: Althusius, Hugo and Leibniz,” Publius 6(3), 27–28.

336

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Guelke agrees that the remarkably low levels of violence in Northern Ireland are to be celebrated, but in that case, we are all Panglossians, since, currently, political violence could not get much lower, and let us hope it stays that way.11 But, what of the substance of Guelke’s criticisms? He agrees with the facts of peace, but questions the stability of the consociational arrangements, reflects on their fragility, and questions their causal importance in producing peace. Guelke maintains the present peace is not owed to consociation but to the defeat of the Irish Republican Army (IRA), and its willingness to switch from violence to constitutional politics. The IRA did not win an all-Ireland state through guerrilla violence or political terrorism, but was it entirely defeated? Its violence reframed the manner in which conflict was regulated and resolved. The current settlement reflects respect for Irish self-determination, and that is owed in part to the IRA’s bargaining power.12 Guelke accepts, by contrast, the current fashion among British intelligence agents and the police to claim responsibility for the victory. They say they had penetrated the IRA to the point of redundancy. This contention mirrors that of disappointed IRA hardliners, communicated through their medium Ed Moloney, who suggest that the IRA was riddled with British spies and blackmailed leaders.13 We buy almost none of this – though there were, of course, informers, both dead and alive (e.g. Alfredo Scappaticci, Sean O’Callaghan, Denis Donaldson, and Roy McShane).14 There was a strategic reassessment by the IRA and Sinn Féin after the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985. Loyalists (fed by British intelligence) were 11

12

13

14

A couple of contributors cite the recent murder of Paul Quinn – Rick Wilford, for one, holds the IRA responsible. All murders, including Quinn’s, should be condemned and investigated. The Independent Monitoring Commission has concluded that the murder was not ordered by the IRA, and that its causation was “personal” – it judged that because ex-IRA members may have been involved such facts, if they are facts, do not prove an IRA killing; www. independentmonitoringcommission.org/documents See B. O’Leary (2005) “Mission accomplished? Looking back at the IRA,” Field Day Review 1(1), 216–46, and reprinted with modifications as “The IRA,” in M. Heiberg, B. O’Leary, and J. Tirman (eds) (2007) Terror, Insurgency and the State, Philadelphia, PA, University of Pennsylvania Press, pp. 189–227. See also B. O’Duffy (2007) British-Irish Relations and Northern Ireland: From Violent Politics to Conflict Regulation, Dublin, Irish Academic Press. See E. Moloney (2002) A Secret History of the IRA, London, Allen Lane, reviewed in B. O’Leary (2003) “Lethal mixture of Armalite and the ballot box,” Times Higher Education Supplement 1609 (October 3), 27–28. In his review of the 2nd edition of Moloney’s book The Times journalist George Brock asked, “Why did the IRA settle for so little?” and answers that it was because of the “slow cultivation of deep-penetration agents”; “How to make the hard men soft,” Times Literary Supplement, February 29, 2008. Few unionists think the IRA settled for little – though the IRA did not get a unified Ireland. Historian Richard Bourke, who usually does not agree with us, observes that Brock failed to notice that Moloney comes “with baggage,” and has been the vehicle through which both dissident IRA men accuse their leadership of selling out because of pressure from touts – or because they were touts; “The politicization of the IRA,” Letter to the Times Literary Supplement, March 7, 2008.

Response

337

more successful in killing republicans in the late 1980s and early 1990s, and the IRA was contained. We have said all of this ourselves. But it is less clear that the IRA was defeated. It could do serious damage before and after 1994. Guelke references two bombs in London in the 1990s, but there were more than two, and Manchester was dreadfully impacted. It was in the strategic interest of the United Kingdom and Irish governments that the IRA’s personnel be thoroughly brought out of extra-constitutional politics. It is just far-fetched to imagine that this task could have been accomplished without major commitments to transformations in institutions and laws, which included consociational arrangements. We agree on the fragility of consociational institutions,15 but Guelke’s causality argument is unconvincing, partly because it is based on an imagined straw person. We nowhere treat consociation as the sole independent variable to explain the reduction of violence. Rather, throughout our publications we have argued that the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985 created strong incentives to induce internal power sharing (consociation). In short, bi-governmentalism enhanced the prospects of consociation, as Guelke maintains. We argued that the Framework Documents of 1995, which prefigured much of the content of the 1998 Agreement, offered a set of institutional arrangements, which provided secure protections and incentives for republicans, loyalists, unionists, and nationalists. Without such a feasible settlement being outlined in advance we doubt whether the ceasefires would have been sustained (to the extent that they were). So our argument is (and was) that sustained bi-governmentalism promoted “consociation plus,” and that, in turn, facilitated sustained ceasefires, and eventual decommissioning. Throughout our writings we have focused on the external dimension of both conflict causation and conflict regulation, precisely to avoid the implication that could be derived from an exclusive focus on early consociational theory, namely, that the conflict was primarily internal. We find it ironic that Guelke thinks we under-represented the importance of the roles of the sovereign governments. We did not, though we did not attribute to them omnipotence or omnicompetence. Guelke doubts whether the Agreement was locally negotiated. Our reference was to the consociational institutions, and not to the entire set of institutions and confidence-building measures that are part of the 1998 Agreement. The dual premiership was negotiated by the Social Democratic and Labour 15

See J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2006) “Consociational theory, Northern Ireland’s conflict, and its Agreement. Part one: What consociationalists can learn from Northern Ireland,” Government and Opposition 41(1), 43–63, and “Part two: What anti-consociationalists can learn from Northern Ireland,” Government and Opposition 41(2), 249–77; B. O’Leary (2005) “Debating consociational politics: Normative and explanatory arguments,” in S. Noel (ed.) From Power-Sharing to Democracy: Post-Conflict Institutions in Ethnically Divided Societies, Montreal & Kingston, McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 3–43; and B. O’Leary (2006) “Foreword: The realism of power sharing,” in M. Kerr, Conflict and Coexistence in the Lebanon and Northern Ireland, Dublin, Irish Academic Press, pp. xvii–xxxv.

338

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Party (SDLP) and the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), head-to-head, with the SDLP proposing and the UUP responding. The adoption of the d’Hondt rule for sequential portfolio allocation was a by-product of the Brooke talks in which the SDLP had proposed a power-sharing executive and the UUP had offered proportionality (as in the European parliament) without power sharing. So, the design of the consociational cabinet was largely the result of local initiatives, albeit with multiple intellectual sources,16 and the sovereign governments supported it. The proportionality and representative principles in the Assembly, the electoral system, and the principles governing future policing arrangements were agreed by the local parties, even if they had different preferences over how they might be implemented. The veto rights in the cross-community consent procedures derived from the negotiating rules that operated in 1997–98, in turn modelled on the parties’ understandings of the South African experience. That is what we meant when we said the local parties negotiated a consociation. We stand by it. When Guelke argues that all was agreed under bi-governmental inducement he is saying what we have already said, especially when he, correctly, reminds readers that if the consociational arrangements collapse they will be replaced by bi-governmentalism. We are on record arguing that the prospect of joint authority should be used to incentivize unionists to make and accept the 1998 Agreement and the subsequent 2006 St Andrews Agreement.17 Guelke claims that we mistake the role of controversies over policing reform (as opposed to decommissioning) in explaining the UK’s decision to suspend the Assembly in 2000. He writes, “McGarry and O’Leary place the whole controversy [over the suspension of the institutions] in the context of disagreement on the issue of policing rather than on the divisions in the IRA’s army council that prevented a start to the decommissionimg.”18 He claims the problem is “that the Policing Bill that prompted most of the controversy over whether the government was retreating from a commitment to implement Patten was not published until the middle of May 2000 … well after the suspension of the institutions.”19 But we wrote: 16

17

18 19

One of us submitted memoranda to the Irish Government on the subject, and we were not alone. We advocated sequential allocation rules in various public writings, and we were not alone. See Joanne McEvoy’s (2006) discussion of the design of the executive, “The institutional design of executive formation in Northern Ireland,” Regional and Federal Studies 16(4), 447–64. John Coakley, who is well informed, is not correct to suggest in his chapter that the first airing of d’Hondt came from Sydney Elliott and his colleague (see pp. 137–38). Credit for that must go to Richard Rose; see his (1975) Northern Ireland: A Time of Choice, London, Macmillan. See J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2004) “Stabilising Northern Ireland’s Agreement,” Political Quarterly 75(3), 213–25, updated in P. Carmichael and C. Knox (eds) (2007) Devolution and Constitutional Change in Northern Ireland, Manchester, Manchester University Press, pp. 62–82. We also made our arguments known to both governments. See p. 105. See p. 106.

Response

339

security issues destabilized the initial trials with the consociational institutions. Unionist politicians were divided between those who insisted that Sinn Féin be excluded from government until the IRA decommissioned, and those who insisted that the IRA decommission shortly after Sinn Féin took its Executive positions. This created a classic outbidding scenario within the UUP, in which its leader David Trimble first resisted the initiation of the institutions until December 1999, some 19 months after the Agreement, and then issued an ultimatum that he would collapse the institutions, through resigning his premiership, unless the IRA decommissioned. Trimble’s position had been weakened by the report of the Patten Commission, which presaged important – and necessary – changes to policing, and it was in this context that Mandelson suspended the institutions and failed to fulfil the UK government’s commitments on Patten.20 This quotation shows that Guelke misread us. That the Policing Bill was published after the suspension of the institutions is irrelevant to our argument about the relationship between policing and suspension. The publication of the Patten Report in September of 1999, six months before the suspension, weakened Trimble, and the IRA’s failure to decommission weakened him further. The publication of the Policing Bill angered nationalists, and contributed, as we argued at the time, to the failure of the IRA to decommission its arsenal in a timely fashion. After the Patten Report was broadly implemented, and the British government promised to facilitate the devolution of policing and justice powers, full decommissioning occurred. We are more surprised to discover that Guelke appears to think that the retention in the 1998 Agreement of the possibility of a change of sovereignty over Northern Ireland (through a majority vote in a referendum) was divisive. Stephen Farry, a member of the Alliance Party, makes the same complaint. This evaluation is unbalanced. Including Sinn Féin and the IRA within a political settlement was never going to succeed if the formal constitutional threshold within the UK for the creation of a unified Ireland was going to be made more difficult – rather than stay the same. That really would have been proof of a comprehensive defeat of the IRA. Changing the UK’s rules to make Irish unification more difficult could only have won the consent of nationalists if the settlement formally created joint UK and Irish sovereignty over Northern Ireland – a price no unionist was willing to pay. What materially changed in the 1998 Agreement was Ireland’s constitution, which previously permitted Northern Ireland’s assimilation into the Republic without any local consent. This change was long sought by unionists, and was strongly emphasized as a substantial gain by Trimble in the May 1998 referendum. Irish nationalists, north and south, traded this concession for many concessions from unionists and the UK government. Their price for a 20

See pp. 45–46.

340

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

super-qualified majority vote for Irish unification in the north would have been much higher. The IRA, Sinn Féin, or the SDLP would never have accepted arrangements in which Irish unification was permanently ruled out. In fact, Irish unification has become more difficult in principle, and not just because the old Articles 2 and 3 were deleted. The new Articles 2 and 3 require both the north and the south to endorse a negotiated unified Ireland (whether confederal, federal, or unitary), whereas before there was a constitutional obligation on the Irish government to achieve unification irrespective of current public opinion, north or south. Moreover, as John Coakley writes, in support of our position, the double protection model embedded in the Agreement makes it likely that the institutions would survive any change in sovereignty and is therefore fair to both national communities, unlike nationalist or unionist integrationist options. Though Guelke (contestably) argues that the Agreement entrenches divisions, he sensibly acknowledges that “the difficulty here is that it is hard to imagine what political strategy could possibly overcome these divisions.”21 (That is where he differs strongly from Farry, Wilford, Wilson, and Taylor.) Moreover, we agree with Guelke on the importance of demographic change – both in explaining the run-up to the 1998 settlement, and in its future importance.22 But we would go further. Much of the last century saw a general stagnation of the population of Ireland, with high out-migration offsetting high birth rates by western European standards. In the north, Catholics emigrated disproportionately more than Protestants between the 1920s and 1971. That stabilized the dominance of the Ulster Unionist Party. Had Catholics and Protestants emigrated from Northern Ireland in equal numbers, the Catholic share of the population would have reached 43.1 per cent in 1981, from a starting share of 33.4 per cent.23 Once the Ulster Unionist Party’s ability to control Northern Ireland was broken, the question then arose: Would Catholics’ higher birth rates transform the demographic ratios and the electoral balance of power? As a younger political scientist, O’Leary was among the first to tabulate the growth in the Northern Ireland nationalist vote,24 smoothing the raw data in regional elections to establish the trend. The growth of the Northern Ireland nationalist vote is now a standard part of explanations of the 21 22

23

24

See p. 108. What follows draws heavily on B. O’Leary’s Keynote Address to the Irish Association, “Transformations in Ireland,” delivered in Belfast in November 2007, forthcoming in Pauline Murphy (ed.) Permeating Boundaries on the Island of Ireland [provisional title], Irish Association. The relevant simulation is owed to B. Rowthorn and N. Wayne (1988) Northern Ireland: The Political Economy of Conflict, Cambridge, Polity Press. See B. O’Leary (1990) “Appendix 4. Party support in Northern Ireland, 1969–89,” in J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (eds) The Future of Northern Ireland, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 342–57, also published as “More Green, fewer Orange,” in Fortnight 281, pp. 15, 17 (1990), a journal then edited by Robin Wilson.

Response

341

willingness of the leaders of the UUP to negotiate the Belfast Agreement, and to share power in ways previously refused. The growth in their vote is also a standard part of explaining the political confidence of Northern Ireland nationalists. The proportion of cultural Catholics in Northern Ireland, those born to Catholic households, at 43.8 per cent, is now what it would have been in 1981 had Northern Ireland been governed in a non-discriminatory fashion from its inception. But the question raised by Guelke’s analysis is: “Will this trend continue?” The trend may be coming to an end, though if so it did so after and not before the Agreement. The pace of growth in the nationalist vote is slowing down. Between 1969 and 1989 it grew at an annual average of 0.8 per cent; by contrast, since 1992 its annual average growth rate has been 0.5 per cent. At that pace we might predict a Northern Ireland nationalist majority in 2023. But the recent data suggest the Northern Ireland nationalist vote has reached a plateau. In all twenty-first century elections the bloc’s share has hovered between 40 and 42 per cent of the vote, with no growth trend. Its spectacular performance in the European elections of 1999, when it reached 45.4 per cent, now looks anomalous rather than a portent (though on previous occasions there was a European vote peak ahead of the growth on other region-wide voting occasions.) What is happening? One explanation might be a higher unionist turnout in the important elections after 1998. Competition between the UUP and the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) and other unionists may have raised turnout among Protestant voters. The long-run explanation, however, may lie outside the electoral arena. The Catholic birth rate in Ireland is slowing down, though it is still ahead of the Protestant birth rate in the north. In the north, the implications of a lower Catholic birth rate may be masked for a while by the higher proportion of Catholics of child-rearing age among younger-age cohorts, and by the higher share of Protestants among the elderly. But, if culturally Catholic women follow their counterparts in Italy, Spain, and Quebec, and move toward having less than two children, matters will change very quickly, though not perhaps before cultural Catholics have reached a bare demographic majority of the Northern population. The two dominant national communities are now finely electorally balanced. Unionists are close to losing their electoral dominance, but nationalists remain short of the votes to displace them. The political impact of new immigrants on the region’s future is therefore going to be very sensitive. Guelke’s view that the new immigrants will be unionists is contentious. The politics of the new migrants is an open question. In our view, adult migrants will be tempted to be neutral or indifferent on the national question, and perhaps inclined toward the otherwise fading Alliance Party. The nationalist and unionist blocs would be well-advised to court the votes of the new immigrants. Since east Europeans will constitute the bulk of the new immigrants in the decades ahead, we think the cultural Catholic bloc is more

342

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

likely to expand than the non-Catholic bloc, provided the new immigrants feel welcomed by cultural Catholics. Whether shared Catholicism will lead to shared Irish nationalism is another matter. Watch this political space. The inter-group demographic possibilities are as interesting. Amid peace we should see greater experimentation. More people will choose their homes on assessments of transport, services, and topography, rather than on closeness to their own. We may see slow erosions in the voluntary residential segregation that deepened during the armed conflict. There will be greater dating across the still slightly taboo social lines, there will be more mixed marriages, and more children from such engagements. The long-run repercussions are unclear. Optimists hope that it will dissolve sectarian animosities. Pessimists worry it will create new fears and new bids for social policing of the young. What will happen in schooling? Northern Ireland now has a fair consociational settlement: each schooling system, Catholic, state (also known as Protestant), and integrated (which might better be described as “mixed”), receives equal funding, in capital and salary support. Third-tier education, aside from teacher training, by contrast, is mixed, at least formally (Rupert Taylor’s doctoral research showed that higher-education students were extensively residentially segregated).25 The key question is: If the mixed schools sector expands, through voluntary choices, what will happen to local identity formation? Will the British or the Irish ethos expand? Will there be a successful British–Irish hybrid, or a failed hybrid? There’s the rub. Whichever schooling system loses most to the mixed sector, then the losing titular community may react with fear, if not loathing. That is where to expect tension ahead. We do not know what the outcomes will be, unlike Guelke. Many new immigrants may choose mixed schools, and may thereby deepen a specifically Northern Irish identity among such children. The same effect may also be transmitted from a durable consociational settlement in which Northern Ireland’s political institutions work for several decades with cross-community consensus. The experience of the south in the last 15 years may not provide an advance picture of what may happen in the north. The population of independent Ireland has grown dramatically. Its total population now hovers near that of pre-partition Ireland as a whole; or, differently put, it has almost added a population of Northern Ireland’s size to its total stock. We do not expect any similarly paced demographic surge in the north – at least as long as its economic growth and economic public policy remain shaped by the UK Treasury. The south has gone in just over 15 years from being a country with a net immigration rate of zero or below, to a state in which approximately 10 per 25

R. Taylor (1986) “The Queen’s University of Belfast and its relationship to the ‘Troubles’: The limits of liberalism,” PhD thesis, University of Kent, Canterbury.

Response

343

cent are estimated as foreign-born. The largest resident minority nationality is from the UK, of whom about half appear to be northerners. The next largest describes itself as “Irish–English,” and remarkably, the next largest is “Irish–American,” followed by Irish–others, and then straight American – which is not a reference to their sexual preferences. Nigerian is next. Northern Ireland is unlikely to replicate this pattern. But, what of the new European migrants to the south? Nationals from the new European Union now comprise nearly 4 per cent of the Republic’s population, and the rest of Europe just over half a per cent. That is perhaps what one can expect in Northern Ireland before too long – provided peace and political stability are maintained. But in the north the new immigrants will be subject to political competition for their future national identity allegiances, not simply their party or policy preferences. The most beneficial incentive in such competition will encourage republicans to conform to their ideology, which is that of civic nationalism, in which residency in Ireland is what makes one Irish, not religiosity or ethnicity. Equally, such competition should encourage civic unionists to live up to their formal statements that their Britishness is multinational, inclusive, and non-sectarian. The more republicans or unionists are tempted by their own versions of “nativism” (or of “settlerism”) the more they will lose the political competition for the new immigrants. Consider one last demographic speculation. The expanded population of the south compared with the north may reduce the incentive of both Northern Ireland nationalists and Ulster Protestants to consider a unitary Irish state. That is because their respective political influence in a united Ireland would be less than it would have been in 1969. It will make more sense for Northern Ireland nationalists to argue for an Irish confederation, in which Northern Ireland would persist as a self-governing entity, and share only European and foreign affairs with the rest of Ireland. If that became the project of Northern Ireland nationalists it may be far less threatening to unionists than a future that involves being directly ruled by a Dublin parliament. That project would enable the preservation of the existing consociational arrangements – if they were wanted, and ensure both communities as well as the others of their futures, irrespective of whatever demographic or electoral losses may be experienced. That is the most dramatic plausible political shift in north–south relations that we can foresee. It is probably still a less plausible future than the one Guelke suggests, namely a functioning version of the status quo, in which the north remains within the United Kingdom, but linked in productive all-Ireland confederal relationships, with an internal power-sharing settlement. Time will tell.

Stefan Wolff: comparisons and methods Stefan Wolff’s tour d’horizon provides a summary of the 1998 Agreement as modified by the St Andrews Agreement, and a brisk survey of a range of

344

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

conflict settlements that are held to exemplify “complex power sharing.” We shall confine our response to four matters: design; quibbles on case summaries; the notion of “complex power sharing”; and the distinctions between the division of power, competition for power, and power sharing. On design, Wolff’s paper promises more than it delivers. The title “Peace by design? Towards complex power sharing” suggests that the guild of constitutional engineers, to which many in this collection belong, may provide a design science for national self-determination disputes. We have no objections to this ambition. (We do not share Donald Horowitz’s conviction that constitutional design is an oxymoron.)26 But the ambition is far from realized. The premise of Wolff’s paper is that comparative case analysis can establish the preconditions of appropriate conflict settlements. Wolff suggests that (i) comparative compactness; (ii) comparative heterogeneity; and (iii) the comparative size and significance of the relevant territory and population, are crucial in determining whether institutions that combine power sharing and autonomy are appropriate. We agree, up to a point. Compactness, however, is not an easy concept to operationalize. Northern Ireland’s nationalists may seem less compactly distributed than Walloons in Belgium, but are they less compactly distributed than French speakers in Belgium? Scale matters. Similar difficulties attach to operationalizing heterogeneity, as suggested by extensive discussions in current political science over indices for measuring heterogeneity or the “effective numbers of groups” in states.27 It is reasonable to describe Northern Ireland as dualistic, but it is a simplification. The size and relative significance of a territory and its population are not one variable, and though population per square metre may be rendered as one variable it may not be the most meaningful. “Significance” may be separately shaped, and overdetermined by strategic, political, or symbolic evaluations. Our point, in short, is that Wolff has to show how these independent variables can be operationalized to explain the incidence of territorial autonomy and consociation, and variations in their permutations. He may not have enough cases to explain the variation he thinks he can find, unless 26

27

See D. L. Horowitz (2000) “Constitutional design: An oxymoron?” in I. Shapiro and S. Macedo (eds) Designing Democratic Institutions, New York, New York University Press, pp. 253–84. See, inter alia, R. Blimes (2006) “The indirect effect of ethnic heterogeneity on the likelihood of civil war onset,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 50(4), 536–47; N. F. Campos and V. Kuzeyev (2007) “On the dynamics of ethnic fractionalization,” American Journal of Political Science 51(3), 620–39; L.-E. Cederman and L. Girardin (2007) “Beyond fractionalization: Mapping ethnicity on nationalist insurgencies,” American Political Science Review 101(1), 173–85; J. D. Fearon (2003) “Ethnic and cultural diversity by country,” Journal of Economic Growth 8(2), 195–222; H. Hegre and N. Sambanis (2006) “Sensitivity analysis of empirical results on civil war onset,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 50(4), 508–35; and D. Posner (2004) “Measuring ethnic fractionalization in Africa,” American Journal of Political Science 48(4), 849–63.

Response

345

he resorts to “government-years” as his unit. Even if he manages to generate enough government-years to have a statistically valid sample and obtains aid from quantitative modellers, he leaves out “politics.” Groups, or rather parties, which legitimately claim to represent groups, may trade off between autonomy and power sharing. They may prefer more self-government to shared government, or vice versa. Incumbent power holders, by contrast, may have matching, opposed, or differently aligned preferences. The negotiated outcomes between such groups (or parties that represent them) may therefore not be determined in advance by their respective geographies, demographies, and strategic significance. Any institution, like any success, may have many fathers. It may be much more difficult to establish paternity in the case of institutions than children, because institutions do not have very distinct DNAs, and are often truly hybrid. The Northern Ireland peace process had no single designer; it had many. Establishing a hierarchy of importance among the collective and individual agents responsible is both causally difficult and invidious. Now that Northern Ireland is coded a success story, there is no shortage of people or parties claiming paternity and maternity.28 That is a good thing, though we do not have to believe all the claims. Quibbles next. Northern Ireland may be a mixed region, but it is not like the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. That entity is bigger than Republika Srpska, and contains a prospective Staatsvolk (Bosniaks). Northern Ireland Protestants share with Bosniaks the status of having been formerly dominant, though in the case of the Bosniaks it was a long time ago. But, Ulster Unionists’ co-nationals run the larger entity next door (Great Britain), which is not true for Bosniaks. The category of “mixed region,” we suspect, is less helpful than knowledge of past relations between the relevant groups. Mindanao, Wolff claims, is primarily a religious conflict, because the rest of The Philippines are overwhelmingly Catholic. This, however, is to miss the salience of different languages and ethnicities among the multiple Muslims. They have a shared interest in winning autonomy, but not necessarily in sharing that autonomy. “Complex power sharing,” as defined by Wolff, refers to “a form of selfgovernance” accompanied by “a range of further mechanisms for the accommodation of ethnic diversity in divided societies, including those recommended by advocates of liberal consociationalism, integration, and power dividing.”29 We may summarize this formula as “autonomy plus.” Wolff claims that O’Leary uses the term “complex power sharing” in a similar manner to those referenced in a Carnegie-funded project to which Wolff, 28

29

See, most notably, Jonathan Powell’s (2008) Great Hatred, Little Room: Making Peace in Northern Ireland, London, The Bodley Head. A much more modest memoir, that repays re-readings, is that of Senator George J. Mitchell (2000) Making Peace, 2nd edn, Berkeley, University of California Press. See p. 120.

346

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

McGarry, and O’Leary contributed.30 That depends, as President Clinton might say, on what is the meaning of similar. In the relevant chapter of O’Leary’s to which Wolff refers, a “complex consociation” is defined to include (i) international efforts to resolve, regulate, and implement selfdetermination disputes; (ii) peace processes; and (iii) the involvement of at least one other conflict-regulating strategy other than consociation (e.g. territorial autonomy, arbitration, integration, and downsizing). This formula may be summarized as “consociation plus.” This is not the same “complex power sharing” as Wolff’s “autonomy plus.” Why does this matter? Wolff starts with self-rule and his complexity starts from there. We start with consociation (which definitionally must include both joint rule and self-rule), and the complexity is added from there. Territorial autonomy is suited, according to Wolff, to compact groups with minimum heterogeneity and well-defined borders. We have no objection to this argument. Complexity in his prescription is needed for dispersed and heterogeneous minorities and relations with the relevant centre. “Autonomy plus” is not a wholly workable formula, however, for the most deeply divided places, which are intermixed. By contrast, consociation may work with mixed groups, with high and divisive heterogeneity, and which need to share rule within the same jurisdiction, and may also need to share power within the federal or central state. Complexity here arises in part from the likely presence of geopolitical rivalries and neighbouring states with co-ethnics or co-nationals. Wolff defines liberal consociation, integration, and power dividing as strategies for the accommodation of ethnic diversity. We disagree, politely but strongly. Integration is not an accommodationist strategy, as we observe below against Ian O’Flynn.31 Integration seeks public homogeneity among citizens. It seeks to eliminate the political importance of ethnicity through the privatization of such differences. It recognizes multi-nationality solely in the international relations between states. In a deeply divided place “integration” is treated with suspicion: “Why should I be a minority within your state when you could be a minority in mine?” Power division, on its own, is an integrationist, not an accommodationist, strategy. Through the separation and division of powers “Madisonians” seek to create multiple and shifting majorities and balances of power. States based on power division are not accommodationist, unless they exhibit either territorial pluralism or consociation. This attempted correction on our part is not a universal statement of hostility toward either integration or power division. They have their appropriate merits and uses. But deeply divided places are precisely those 30

31

M. Weller, B. Metzger, and N. Johnson (eds) (2007) Settling Self-Determination Disputes: Complex Power-Sharing in Theory and Practice, Leiden and Boston, Martinus Nijhoff. J. McGarry, B. O’Leary, and R. Simeon (2008) “Integration or accommodation? The enduring debate in conflict regulation,” in S. Choudhry (ed.) Constitutional Design for Divided Societies: Integration or Accommodation? Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 41–90, as well as our opening chapter here.

Response

347

where integration and power division will not work. After all, the same group may be excluded from all the functionally separated sites of power, and the same group may be part of all the different majorities in a system of power division.32 We support dividing political power; separating executive, legislative, and judicial institutions; separating civilian from military power; separating powers of nomination from appointment; separating police powers to arrest and interrogate from the judicial power to prosecute; and separating local from central governments. We support equally competition for power, i.e. a focus on how officials “win” positions, be they executive, legislative, judicial, or bureaucratic. But such principles are insufficient to calm deeply divided places. Majorities from the same community may win all major offices and control all governments – even if the powers of those offices and governments are formally divided and checked. Students of Northern Ireland should surely have absorbed this lesson. Power sharing commends the sharing of power as well as division and competition: it is just wrong to imply that power sharing must necessarily put an end to either division or competition. How we see the relations between power division, competition for power, and power sharing in consociations or pluralist federations is therefore different from how Wolff portrays them. Towards the end of his chapter Wolff has a go at “misguided and illinformed diplomats.”33 There are some of these, but many are often promoting abroad what they have at home. They are often civic nationalists or cosmopolites. They need to be better informed by the academy of the range of ways in which power can be shared, as well as divided.

John Coakley: a different revisionist to ourselves John Coakley acknowledges that we do not essentialize the two major identities in Northern Ireland, but rather support institutions that might form the fair basis under which identity shifts might occur. He agrees that consociation does not require an end to democratic or parliamentary opposition. But the most striking feature of Coakley’s interesting engagement with our writings is his determination to revise consociational theory in a very different manner. Empirically, he claims that group autonomy, one of Arend Lijphart’s four dimensions of consociation, is absent in Northern Ireland, and gently suggests that one of us glossed over this difficulty by referring to “community autonomy and equality” rather than autonomy per se.34 32

33 34

See B. O’Leary (2008) “The logics of power-sharing, consociation and pluralist federations,” in Weller, Metzger, and Johnson (eds) Settling Self-Determination Disputes, pp. 47–58. See p. 121. B. O’Leary (2001) “Comparative political science and the British-Irish Agreement,” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World, Oxford, Oxford University Press, pp. 53–88.

348

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

But then he suggests that this is a problem with the concept of consociation, which he proposes to resolve through a redefinition, and excision, which would leave consociation simply referring to a political system with executive power sharing, proportionality, and mutual veto rights. All theories in the social sciences, both empirical and normative, should be capable of revision. The question is whether revision is appropriate. Let us first take the empirical case at issue. The passage on “community autonomy and equality” that Coakley footnotes is as follows. Community autonomy and equality. This was evident in: the official recognition of the political identities of unionists, nationalists, and others, notably in the Assembly’s cross-community consent procedures; the decision to leave alone the existing separate but recently equally funded forms of Catholic, Protestant, and integrated schooling; the official outlawing of discrimination on grounds of political or religious belief; the replacement of an oath of loyalty to the Crown with a pledge of office for ministers; the establishment of a Human Rights Commission tasked with promoting individual equality and liberty, and – I believe – reasonable group rights; the entrenchment of vigorous equality provisions in Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act (1998); the promise of better legislative and institutional treatment of the Irish language and Ulster Scots – both of which became languages of record in the Assembly; and the promise of a Civic Forum, and participatory norms of governance, to facilitate the representation of voices that might not be heard purely through electoral or party mechanisms.35 Coakley’s riposte is twofold: all this is not about autonomy, and the addition of equality in effect recognizes this difficulty. We respectfully disagree. Let us first explain the emphasis on equality in the passage above (especially with respect to identities, school funding, anti-discrimination, the pledge of office, the Human Rights Commission, Section 75, and language rights). When we first analysed the Agreement, together with Christopher McCrudden, we were engaged in public education and advocacy, seeking to help those arguing for the Agreement, north and south.36 We did not wish to use the academic language of consociation, nor its opposite, namely a control system, based on group hierarchy. By emphasizing equality we were able to spell out that authentic consociation implies equality for the consociated, without which autonomy, proportionality, or executive power sharing are 35 36

O’Leary, “Comparative political science,” p. 55. See C. McCrudden, J. McGarry, and B. O’Leary, “Answering some big questions. Explaining the Agreement, Part 1,” April 19, 1998; “The dance of the ministries. Explaining the Agreement, Part 2,” April 26, 1998; “All-Ireland bodies at work. Explaining the Agreement, Part 3,” May 3, 1998; “Equality and social justice. Explaining the Agreement, Part 4,” May 10, 1998; “The heart of the Agreement: A bi-national future. Explaining the Agreement, Part 5,” May 17, 1998; a series published in the Sunday Business Post (Dublin).

Response

349

rendered unimportant (or become forms of co-option). This emphasis on equality distinguished consociation from control, especially from apartheid, and served its public purpose. We stand by our description of the Agreement, and of the above passage: full consociation requires autonomy among equal rather than unequal groups. Is there consociational autonomy in Northern Ireland? Yes, but it is liberal not corporate. The necessary conditions for autonomy are present: political parties are free to designate as nationalist, unionist, or other. The nationalist and unionist communities, and others, are free to elect their parties under any names, or democratic programmes – a necessary feature of self-government. The Civic Forum was conceived partly as a mechanism for the inclusion of others who might not win representation through parties. The historic languages of the ethnic communities are granted and promised parity of esteem in public use. That has not happened yet; we think it is on its way. In all consociational theory, liberal language rights are a key feature of group maintenance and autonomy. But party freedoms and language rights are merely necessary elements for autonomy (their importance is registered in the fact that integrated states may block ethnic parties or multiple languages). What matters in Northern Ireland is that schools are self-governing, especially for those who want such self-government. Catholics in Ireland, as elsewhere, have historically sought autonomy for their schools. Coakley appears to suggest that because these schools are not run by nationalist parties, and are (now) funded (primarily) out of general taxation rather than Catholic donations, they are not examples of functional autonomy. We disagree. They are not forms of corporate autonomy, though old-style Catholic bishops would have liked that. But the schools are selfgoverning, even if they must follow public rules – and they are not required to appoint non-Catholics to controlling positions of school governance. Coakley may suggest that because the schools are Catholic rather than nationalist that they are not an appropriate example of functional autonomy. Again, we disagree. It is through Catholic schools, but not only through them, that nationalist socialization occurs, and has occurred. Do Protestants have their own schools? Yes, if they want to, and the state schools have served this de facto purpose for most Protestants. The historic shift to equal funding of all three types of schooling (Catholic, Protestant-state, integratedmixed), in capital funding and teachers’ salaries, enables each major community to school itself, with public regulation. The shift to equality in school funding in 1992 was the first fully institutionalized element of consociational arrangements.37 So we do not accept that it is necessary to accept Coakley’s proposal to relabel Northern Ireland’s political order as “consociation minus segmental autonomy.” 37

For the history of Catholic schooling in Northern Ireland see Michael McGrath’s PhD thesis, published in 2000 as The Catholic Church and Catholic Schools in Northern Ireland: The Price of Faith, Dublin, Irish Academic Press.

350

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

What of Coakley’s conceptual proposal, viz. to excise group autonomy from the necessary features of a consociation? We are not intrinsically opposed to revising the concept (after all, we have proposed that “crosscommunity power sharing” rather than “grand coalition” be the defining feature of a fully fledged executive consociation). But we are not persuaded of the merits of Coakley’s proposal. Consociation, like federation, combines shared rule and self-rule, and has its conceptual and normative roots in this distinction and combination. Self-rule can take functional or territorial forms. Territorial self-rule should be associated with federations or federacies. But there are also functional forms of self-rule. Without self-rule of some form of their own choosing or inheritance in some key socializing institutions, ethnic, religious, or linguistic groups would find self-organization highly problematic. That is why assimilationist and integrationist states impose homogenous language, religious, party, and schooling policies – by breaking groups’ functional autonomy they hope to dissolve existing identifications and allegiances. Without some self-organizing “pillars,” it would be difficult, we submit, to differentiate consociation from mere coalition government. This does not mean, however, that there is no variation in the extent of state regulation of the pillars, in the self-governance of the pillars, or in party entrenchment in the institutions that reproduce a group’s culture (especially its schools, religious organizations, and media). We have a different proposal.38 Consociation is a four-dimensional concept: cross-community executive power sharing, autonomy, proportionality, and veto rights. Each of these dimensions may be coded as either dichotomous or continuous. Depending on what coding schemes we use, we can then describe actual political systems by their degree of consociation. Any system that has all four features is a complete consociation; any system that has the first three dimensions but lacks veto rights is a flexible consociation. Any system that lacks executive power sharing and veto rights, but has autonomy and proportionality is a semi-consociation, or a multicultural political order. Lastly, a system with executive power sharing, proportionality, and veto rights we might call, adapting Coakley’s proposal, a nonethnic consociation (since it would lack “ethnic pillars,” or “segmental autonomy”). Coakley suggests, in passing, that the proportionality principle necessarily implies grand coalition. Not so, and we thought we had made that clear by distinguishing “complete” from “concurrent” and other consociations. One can have proportional representation in a cabinet (in which each party gets ministries in proportion to its parliamentary strength) but without a grand coalition, i.e. without all parties being in the executive. What a consociation requires is some cross-community jointness and proportionality. 38

B. O’Leary (2003) “Consociation: Refining the theory and a defence,” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 3, 693–755 (www.DiversityConference. Publisher-Site.com); O’Leary, “Debating consociational politics.”

Response

351

Jointness, autonomy, proportionality, and veto are related and clustered concepts, but are distinct. Lijphart was wiser than he is given credit for. The key tension (or contradiction, if one prefers that language) in consociational systems lies between parity and proportionality. Parity in autonomy is easy if neither group wishes to assimilate the other. Parity implies veto rights, at least on those matters of profound identity or security concern, which majorities may be willing to concede. Parity within the executive is more problematic unless groups are evenly matched. Proportionality does not imply parity – it implies that some get more according to their numbers, though the principle implies parity per head. When parity in the executive (or concurrent majority rules, or veto rights) favours minority nationalities then proportionality is partially modified, and that is a tension in any consociational system of unequally sized groups. On Coakley’s discussion of electoral systems we are pleased to report general agreement. He concurs that the alternative vote and “winner takes all” in single-member districts are unfair. He demonstrates that Donald Horowitz’s proposal to use the alternative vote in Northern Ireland would not have achieved what he tacitly claims, and that it would have been illadvised. That is a lesson for Wilson and Wilford (and for Horowitz) rather than us.39 Coakley accepts that using the electoral system to manipulate voters, or to disorganize radical parties, will just paper over serious cracks – or be deeply destabilizing. He makes two claims with which we disagree, one of which may rest on a misunderstanding. He suggests that we supply no valid grounds for revising “the consociational prescriptive canon” in respect of list-PR.40 Our argument was that a region-wide, party-list system would give incentives for the formation of micro-parties. We agree that this outcome would partly result from the district magnitude being large (though party formation is not the same as parties that win seats). Our point was that Lijphart commends list-PR as the optimal electoral system because it facilitates strong parties with strong leaders who have the ability to make deals. All we were saying was “that ain’t necessarily so,” and that STV-PR could also be a useful way of supporting a consociational order – and was better for Northern Ireland in 1998 because it strengthened the “yes unionists” at the expense of the “no unionists.” We did not suggest that STV-PR should everywhere replace list-PR. Coakley’s suggestion that his data and arguments against the alternative vote should not extend to the Sri Lankan presidency is, by contrast, unconvincing. Sri Lanka’s Gaullist presidency (district magnitude = 1) is a seriously 39

40

One of us submitted a memorandum to the Independent Commission on Voting Systems in the UK in January 1998, criticizing AV, later published as B. O’Leary (1998) “The implications for political accommodation in Northern Ireland of reforming the electoral system for the Westminster Parliament,” Representation 35(2/3), 106–13. See p. 127.

352

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

flawed and winner-takes-all institution, on an island in which Sinhalese comprise roughly four in five voters. If the president was elected by AV, by comparison with the present supplementary vote (which restricts preference orderings to two), that change would do little to make Tamil votes pivotal. Lastly, Coakley suggests that the St Andrews Agreement, as legislated, is destabilizing because it allows for a Sinn Féin First Minister – if it becomes the largest party in a future election. He suggests unionists would not accept this outcome. We are not persuaded to have sleepless nights, and Coakley may be doing unionists an injustice. The First Minister and Deputy First Minister are entirely equal, except in their titles. Wise advisers to Sinn Féin might propose retitling the two ministers if Sinn Féin ever tops the poll, so that both would be known simply as First Ministers. This scenario would test Sinn Féin’s thesis that unionism cannot live with equality, but it would equally oblige Sinn Féin to show its ability to live up to the requirements of parity.

Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans: on tribunes and compelling data Paul Mitchell and Geoffrey Evans have consistently been among the most interesting and original evaluators of electoral and survey research data from Northern Ireland over the last decade and a half. Their chapter provides rigorous evidence for the argument that we made in our opening chapter, namely that tribune parties can decide to become (responsible) consuls. That there is intransigence in ethnic attachments and convictions in Northern Ireland is not sensibly doubted, but what Mitchell and Evans do is to put some of the cherished notions of integrationists and centripetalists to the test – and they find them wanting. Mitchell and Evans provide compelling evidence that the increase in support for the tribune parties in the twentyfirst century did not denote a radicalization or increased polarization of the electorate – a point that we made in our “Argument,” but which some of our critics, notably Farry, still fail to grasp. It is logically possible, and in this case empirically true, that increased voting for more extremist parties was entirely compatible with the more extremist parties becoming more moderate (and with the voters not becoming more hard line). We suspect that the superficial misreading of the electoral returns, rejected by Mitchell and Evans, lay behind much of the pessimism of the critics of the 1998 Agreement and the St Andrews Agreement of 2006.

Stephen Farry: Alliance Party prayers Stephen Farry, as befits a member of the Alliance Party, is measured, polite, and good-tempered in his criticisms. Twice Farry claims that “alternative approaches,” either to the negotiation of the Agreement, or to its substantive content, cannot be “dismissed.”41 That is, it should not be assumed that they 41

See p. 166 and p. 167.

Response

353

would not have worked. We did not “dismiss” the alternatives in any highhanded manner. We argued that they had either been tried, or failed, or were much less likely to work than the paths chosen. It is always possible to argue that another outcome may have been possible than the one that occurred, including a better one. We do not deny that, because we are not, pace Guelke, Panglossians. Farry does not, however, address whether his alternatives would have been a “Pareto improvement,” i.e. would they have left no significant party worse off? In fact, there would have been winners and losers from his proposals, different winners – moderates; and different losers – hardliners. In consequence, his proposals may have returned us to armed conflict. Farry thinks it would have been better to have had negotiations focused on the moderates rather than the hardliners, and that it would have been better to have had agreed institutions that were more flexible, “voluntary” (in his words) and traditionally parliamentary.42 We maintain, by contrast, that the inclusive negotiation process, targeted at moderates among the hardliners, enhanced the legitimacy of the 1998 Agreement, and made its passage in the double referendum easier. A standard voluntary coalition of the kind Farry commends, i.e. one invested by a parliamentary majority (or supermajority), would have had at least two problems. The exclusion of hardliners from the cabinet would have encouraged them to attack it, and, as likely, there would have been protracted bargaining to establish and maintain the cabinet. Farry does not specify how he would have ensured that the cabinet would have been organized according to cross-community consent. Following the Alliance Party’s preferences, we must imagine that he would have rejected a minimum-winning majority unionist coalition. He might favour a role for the UK Secretary of State in cabinet formation (as in the Sunningdale Agreement), or commend the use of STV within the Assembly to elect the cabinet. The former procedure would have involved British interference in cabinet formation, and would not have incentivized nationalists, especially republicans. The latter procedure would have worked from Farry’s perspective if the SDLP and the UUP and the Alliance Party had banded together to exclude Sinn Féin and the DUP from the Executive, especially by transferring their lower-order preference votes to one another’s preferred ministers. This outcome, however, would have required the SDLP to abandon its strategy of including and constitutionalizing Sinn Féin, and the UUP to have risked sharing power with nationalists while excluding the DUP. Yet Farry’s chapter suggests that the SDLP’s and the UUP’s fears of being outflanked would have made this scenario unlikely to materialize, or survive. So, not only do we think the existing institutions are better than those Farry would prefer, but we think there are good reasons why they came into existence, which he wishes away. 42

See pp. 176–77.

354

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Farry does not like the d’Hondt process. He deems it “semi-proportional,” describes it as a “lucky dip,” and claims it is part of a mandatory coalition requirement.43 It is true that d’Hondt benefits larger parties more than small parties, especially if the cabinet is kept relatively small, but that does not make it “semi-proportional.” It is one of a recognized set of proportionality rules, each of which is necessarily slightly disproportional in its own way. In Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority and in Explaining Northern Ireland, as Coakley observed, we were on record as favouring Sainte-Laguë (dividing through by 1, 3, 5, … , n) to d’Hondt, because that would have helped smaller parties – which then included the DUP, Sinn Féin, and the Alliance Party.44 But we never called d’Hondt semi-proportional. What Farry wants is a proportionality rule that helps his party. We, by contrast, are happy with any widely agreed form of proportionality that allows for inclusivity. D’Hondt is not a “lucky dip.” Farry misleads when he describes it in this way. Parties are awarded portfolios in order of parliamentary strength. This reflects a democratic principle: more positions and more preferred positions go to those with more votes. It provides an algorithm to sort out which parties get which ministries without protracted bargaining, and in a multiparty world prevents the largest party from monopolizing the plumb posts. What traditionalists, and perhaps Farry, want, is to have parliamentary majorities empowered to exclude certain parties from certain portfolios. But that is a recipe for conflict in deeply divided places. Would Farry want certain portfolios to be unionist “preserves”? Would that not look a little like fixed quotas, or rigidity, or designation? We explained why the d’Hondt process does not mandate any compulsory grand coalition. Parties are free not to take up their proportional entitlements to ministries, and parties which regrettably do not win enough seats, such as the Alliance Party, have no such entitlements (so there is no all-inclusive coalition). Farry believes that a voluntary cabinet will produce “a meeting of minds,” because the alternative may be the dissolution of the cabinet and fresh elections, whereas, by contrast, he assumes that a d’Hondt-allocated cabinet will merely produce a stalemate without incentives for cooperation.45 He forgets that the existing arrangements allow for electoral dissolution, and that parties that behave unreasonably may suffer electoral losses. The higher security of ministerial tenure under d’Hondt and the blocking rights introduced within the cabinet at St Andrews may permit both constructive initiatives and lead to stalemates. Both possibilities exist, so Farry’s analysis is one-sided. It is not wise to compare a highly idealized version of a standard western European coalition government with what exists and what is possible in Northern Ireland. 43 44

45

See pp. 176–78, p. 169. B. O’Leary, T. Lyne, J. Marshall, and B. Rowthorn (1993) Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority, London, IPPR, Appendix B, pp. 139–44, especially p. 144; J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1995) Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images, Oxford, Basil Blackwell, pp. 374–75. See pp. 169–70.

Response

355

Farry, Wilford, and Wilson all argue that the number of “peace walls” or residential “interface barriers” have increased since the peace process began, implying that segregation has worsened. Both Wilford and Wilson point to what is purportedly a damning indictment of consociation, namely that a new barrier was to be constructed through the grounds of Hazelwood integrated school in May 2007, when the power-sharing executive was relaunched. That there are now more peace walls than before the peace process is repeated routinely by journalists and enjoys the status of an assumed public fact. The source of the claim is the research of Neil Jarman, who observes rather more subtly that of the 41 interface barriers constructed by the Northern Ireland Office (NIO) in existence in 2005, that “around one half … had been built, extended or heightened since the ceasefires in 1994.”46 He writes that “none of the interface barriers in residential areas had been taken down,” though he immediately contradicts this claim in a footnote.47 This evidence has to be considered with other material contained in Jarman’s nuanced account, but absent from that of our critics. The “peace walls” represent a subset of barriers in Northern Ireland, and a subset of the historic barriers of Belfast. As Jarman observes, “since the ceasefires were declared in 1994 many of the formal security structures and barriers have been removed: all previously closed crossing points on the Irish border have been opened; the ring of steel around Belfast city centre has been removed; the military watchtowers along the border and army bases in Belfast have been demolished.”48 There is no established correlation between the number (or height or length) of peace walls, and the degree of movement between areas separated by walls. Statistics are not kept on traffic through the gated sections of these walls, but we have observed it is much easier to traverse these walls than it used to be. Any tourist to Belfast can now readily get taxis in and to republican and loyalist locations; drivers will take them through gates in the walls to conduct walkabout tours of wall murals on both sides, activity that might have brought armed attacks before the peace process. Jarman suggests that the increased number of walls is in part a result of British government “inertia.”49 The direct-rule authorities, still responsible for security, constructed new walls to meet security threats but were reluctant to remove old ones that may be redundant. The fences, he argues, are examples of “how an emergency response” to a violent episode “can 46 47

48 49

N. Jarman (2008) “Security and segregation: Interface barriers in Belfast,” Shared Space 6, 22. Jarman, “Security and segregation,” p. 21; the note reads, “a security barrier at the junction of Donore Court and Antrim Road … was removed some years ago; a security gate at the junction of Dunboyne Park and Springfield Road was removed within the past year; and security fencing between Alexandra Park and the Dunmore stadium development was removed in April 2008” (p. 32, n. 2). Jarman, “Security and segregation,” p. 27. Email communication from Neil Jarman, “There is an inertia present … The government have been slow to open debate about taking barriers down.”

356

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

become a long-term reality.”50 He explains that the authorities may not only be too slow to take old ones down, but too eager to put new ones up. The decision to build a barrier through the grounds of Hazelwood was based on a single incident (a petrol bomb attack) that had “occurred some nine months previously. … [N]o evidence was given of a sustained or ongoing series of such attacks.”51 This isolated story is hardly compelling evidence of a profound worsening in intercommunity relations, never mind a direct linkage to consociational politics. Jarman has told us that “many” of the new or extended barriers were responses to disorder caused by parades or interface violence “in the early years of the transition,”52 which suggests that even the NIO authorities have seen less need for barriers in recent years. While Jarman makes clear that barriers have the broad support of local residents who have fears about security, he reports increasing discussions in the context “of positive developments in the political sphere … about the need to develop a long-term strategy that would focus on preventing the construction of further barriers and would begin to develop a framework and a timeframe for removing the existing barriers.”53 So, unlike our critics, Jarman sees a linkage between power sharing and an eventual stop to the barriers. He appropriately calls for a “moratorium on the construction of walls and barriers” now that we have “what appears to be a relatively stable devolved administration.”54 We would expect support for the dismantling of barriers to increase as the violence of the past recedes, as consociation beds down, and when there is shared confidence in the ability of the police to protect all communities. We agree with some of Farry’s description of the Northern Ireland economy, though we are not persuaded by the estimates offered of the costs of duplicate public goods, which rely on the supposition of dramatic administrative economies of scale from integration (e.g. in the provision of schooling and hospitals), and assume that integrated public administration and public provision would have no substantive costs of their own (e.g. obligatory bussing to mixed schools). Liberals, and we are liberals, tend to forget that their conceptions of rational public administration are not costless. Farry advocates a shared future rather than the better future advocated by the current leading governing parties. May we respectfully suggest he should favour both? Consociational and federal power sharing requires parties to address shared interests in running shared competences, but allows them autonomy in domains they consider best left to themselves. Northern Ireland’s new system requires the parties to cooperate to keep the system together, but not to have a shared vision. That would be to put the cart before 50 51 52 53 54

Jarman, “Security and segregation,” p. 26. Jarman, “Security and segregation,” p. 21. Email communication from Jarman. Jarman, “Security and segregation,” pp. 21–22. Jarman, “Security and segregation,” p. 31.

Response

357

the horse (or two horses). Such a vision may develop, and may even develop around the Northern Ireland identity that Farry wants to foster, but his prescriptions are not the best way to achieve his goals.

Rick Wilford: nostalgia for the Mother of Parliaments Rick Wilford’s courteous and informed chapter is partly based on interviews conducted with ministers in the first Northern Ireland Executive. The material from these interviews is sometimes fascinating. Wilford conducted his interviews with an overt intellectual agenda, as befits a political scientist. In his case, the agenda was to assess how the post-1999 Northern Ireland Executive, and its post-2007 successor, addressed joined-up government. But, there is a conceptual slippage in his arguments, and in his consequent appraisals. We think he conflates “joined-up government” with “collective cabinet responsibility.” Differently put, he takes it as axiomatic that collective cabinet responsibility enhances the prospects of joined-up government, and presumes that both are strongly desirable. Instead of comparing an idealized model of a single-party controlled cabinet in a Westminster system, with the Northern Ireland Executive, we think Wilford would have been better advised to compare the Northern Ireland Executive(s) with voluntary multiparty coalition governments in parliamentary systems. Indeed, he might have looked south of the border. If he had done so, he might have been slightly less distressed, and perhaps less enamoured of the ideals behind joined-up government. Inadvertently, he seems nostalgic for a system that now only exists in that fiction known as UK constitutional law. “Cabinet government” is a normative constitutional ideal of how Westminster governments should function, but it is a myth.55 It supposes that the cabinet functions as a collegial and final authoritative decision-making body, which coordinates ministries and their departments, and deliberates and decides over matters of high politics and policy. The prime minister is seen as a chair of the cabinet, first among equals, a personnel manager, who oversees key inter-ministerial policy committees. The permanent civil service is responsive to, and the servant of, the cabinet, not the prime minister. The civil service cabinet office works to ensure the positive coordination of government departments, to achieve common goals embedded in the manifesto of the governing party. The Treasury, by contrast, functions to ensure negative coordination (stopping unauthorized expenditures, and activities, and building support for a common budget and programme of government). Ideally, cabinet government, combining collective responsibility with ministerial responsibility, should facilitate joined-up government – provided the civil service is not wholly departmentalized. 55

M. Foley (2004) “Presidential attribution as an agency of prime ministerial critique in a parliamentary democracy: The case of Tony Blair,” British Journal of Politics and International Relations 6(3), 292–311; P. Norton (2003) “Governing alone,” Parliamentary Affairs 56(4), 543–59.

358

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

The cabinet government model has obvious empirical and normative problems – myths do. Empirically, there has been a shift to “prime ministerial government” in Westminster systems, notably in Australia, Canada, and the UK.56 The cabinet has come to be the prime minister’s team, not a party’s collegial team. Whatever the constitutional formalities, the civil service effectively reports to a prime ministerial unit or department, rather than through the cabinet office; and the Treasury is loyal to the prime minister’s wishes. The prime minister governs ministers; if they are recalcitrant, but sufficiently influential to avoid dismissal, then they are defeated in subcommittees controlled by the premier. The head of the governing party is usually immune to challenge from within his or her party, and is, in effect, an elected factional dictator. A majority within the governing party normally supports the prime minister, but that may be a bare majority of the parliament. So, if the parliamentary majority is based on less than 40 per cent of the popular vote (as has been recently true in the UK and Canada), the relevant prime minister’s preferences may be congruent with less than 20 per cent of the electorate. Far from achieving “majoritarian government,” prime ministerial government facilitates “minoritarian” or “factional government,” punctuated by intermittent backbench rebellions when the governing party’s members fear for the safety of their seats. The only effective checks and oppositions to the prime minister’s power during inter-election periods come from within the prime minister’s own faction in the governing party (Brown versus Blair; Martin versus Chrétien; Keating versus Hawke). Prime ministerial government may aspire to joined-up government, but does so through subordinating ministers to prime ministerial direction, eviscerating the deliberative and authoritative power of the cabinet, and through calls for policy analysis units, comprised of experts with prime ministerial patronage. Joined-up government is therefore often rhetorical cover for attempts to centralize major policy making under the prime minister. Joined-up government was known as “coordination” when we studied and taught public administration and public policy. It is a perennial aspiration in Westminster parliamentary systems, reborn with new names and technological facades. It is born of the fear that cabinet government does not work, and is “degenerating” either into prime ministerial government, or ministerial government. But, we question, unlike Wilford, whether joined-up government is an obvious good, or a feasible good, and whether the myth of its possibility serves any valuable organizing function. Joined-up government points to a genuine difficulty. Policy problems (and solutions) cut across ministries and departments. But, what is the solution? And is there but one? A monarchical system? A technocratic system? A set of super-ministries? Is it feasible or desirable to create synoptic or strategic planning units that can give authoritative guidance to the premier (or the cabinet)? 56

T. Poguntke and P. Webb (eds) (2005) The Presidentialization of Politics, Oxford, Oxford University Press.

Response

359

When one steps outside the Westminster village, comparative executives are more interesting than Wilford suggests. In separation of powers systems, no one aspires to synoptic or holistic joined-up government. These countries abolished monarchies for a reason. They assume that policy is the output of the rival and competitive powers and judgements of the executive, legislative, and judicial branches, each of which develops formal and ad hoc systems to resolve differences – and the pathologies that may flow from such differences. Calls for “bipartisanship” resemble the discourse of joined-up government. Separation of powers systems look messy to eyes trained in the authoritarian and monarchical legacies of Whitehall, but they are not obviously less democratic (judges may be appointed with wider implicit democratic mandates than prime ministers). Northern Ireland has moved in the direction of a separation of powers system, because its Executive is not entirely dependent on the legislature, and judges have played authoritative roles in the interpretation of the Northern Ireland Act (1998). The cabinet is allocated through the d’Hondt process, rather than an investiture, and dissolution at the initiative of the legislature requires cross-community (super-majority) consent. In consequence, we cannot have the same expectations of joined-up government. Northern Ireland, of course, is neither the United States nor Switzerland, even if it has moved slightly to resemble these systems, and distinctly away from Mother Westminster. So, how does the Northern Ireland of the 1998 and 2006 Agreements compare with executive parliamentary systems based on proportional representation? Such systems ensure that a parliamentary majority, which, in turn, reflects a genuine popular majority, supports either the cabinet or every law. (Northern Ireland’s new system does so for laws.) With a few notable exceptions, e.g. contemporary South Africa, such systems generate multiparty governments. They do have coordination issues that do not regularly arise in ideal-type Westminster systems. Prime ministers cannot direct or dismiss their nonparty colleagues without breaking up the coalition; instead, they must treat all the party leaders within the coalition as equals, and bargain. Government programmes may have to be negotiated after rather than before elections. Parties may insist on ministerial autonomy in some key policy sectors as their price for supporting the coalition government. So, in many parliamentary PR systems there is more ministerial rather than prime ministerial government, and more ministerial government than cabinet government. In effective ministerial systems, the prime minister has to share policy control in key domains with the coalition partners. The cabinet may in fact be more important than in (non-mythical) Westminster systems, because the coalition may have to resolve differences without authoritative prime ministerial arbitration. Civil servants (and temporary policy experts) in these systems are more likely to be loyal to their departments (and their ministers) than some wider governmental programme. Decision making will necessarily be more incremental, segmented, and less cohesive, but not necessarily less consensual. They are, interestingly, underpinned through the multiparty coalition by greater linkages to voters’ preferences.

360

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

The performance of such systems is good, judging by comparative studies of democracies.57 In these, parliamentary and proportional systems generally outperform Westminster systems on a whole range of policy indicators. In short, when we look comparatively, the absence of joined-up government does not decisively or adversely affect policy formulation and outcomes. Blockages, hurdles, and veto players may make decision making slower and more difficult, but it may also be better and more consensual. Wilford describes himself, appropriately, as a “liberal centripetalist integrationist.” We thought so, and that clarifies matters. The real debate, obscured by the rhetoric of joined-up government, is not whether Northern Ireland should have a better version of an idealized Westminster model of cabinet government, but rather whether its new system can be as democratic and effective as a parliamentary PR system in which the cabinet is determined in post-election bargains.58 The dual premiership was a centripetal institution in its first formulation (1998–2006) because the premiers had to be elected by a concurrent majority. Wilford’s data provides no evidence that this procedure helped David Trimble and Séamus Mallon (and his successor Mark Durkan) to cooperate. Since 2007 Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness were able to cooperate despite the removal of the necessity of concurrent majority support for the election of the premiers. Paisley’s successor, Peter Robinson, and McGuinness got off to a rocky start in the summer of 2008, clashing over the issue of the devolution of policing. However, by the beginning of 2009, these two also appear to have established a good working relationship. Time will tell. Against Wilford and others we defend the d’Hondt procedure for cabinet formation because it has four characteristics that can be summarized, by coincidence, in the acronym PSNI. It is proportional. Parties win positions in the cabinet in proportion to their strength in seats won in the assembly. It is sequential. Parties pick portfolios in order of their parliamentary strength (a procedure that is not like drawing straws, as Wilford suggests). The sequencing rule leaves the party with the next right to pick a ministry free to pick the available one of their choice, i.e. no party may veto another party’s entitlement. The d’Hondt rule prevents any party from proclaiming certain ministries its preserves. It is non-exclusionary. No party with a sufficient mandate to win cabinet office can be excluded from ministerial entitlements. (In Northern Ireland a party can only be removed from the cabinet if a cross-community vote determines that the relevant party has broken the legal requirements to follow exclusively democratic and peaceful forms of politics.) Last, it incentivizes parties to participate in the cabinet and therefore to take executive 57

58

A. Lijphart (1999) Patterns of Democracy: Government Forms and Performance in Thirty-Six Countries, New Haven, Yale University Press; P. Norris (2008) Driving Democracy: Do Power-Sharing Institutions Work? New York, Cambridge University Press. We have already explained in our “Argument” (and in agreement with Coakley) that the alternative vote is not a good idea for Northern Ireland. Neither Wilford nor Wilson replied to what we wrote. Silence, of course, does not mean consent.

Response

361

responsibilities. Refusing to take office does not stop cabinet formation; it merely leaves ministries open to one’s rivals, inside or outside one’s own bloc. A coalition cabinet of the type favoured by Wilford, by contrast, would not be proportional. It would merely require a cabinet supported by a parliamentary majority. Without some other rules of government formation it could not prevent a cabinet from just one ethnic bloc. Portfolio allocations in Wilford’s schema would result from pure and possibly protracted bargaining processes among the coalition partners. These would be vulnerable to rebargaining after government formation (as in Israeli cabinets). Wilford’s schema would allow minimum winning coalitions to be formed that exclude either moderate or hard-line parties from the cabinet. These are strikingly different prescriptions for cabinet government in a deeply divided place. We believe the d’Hondt procedures, now negotiated by all four major parties, deserve some time to see whether they are helpful over the long run. They have merits over and above removing the transaction costs over government formation – though these are important. What really irks Wilford, it seems to us, is the idea of “ministerial solo runs.”59 This, it seems to us, is a piece of insufficiently considered condemnation. Parliamentary government rests on ministerial responsibility – to an assembly, and to the courts. Ministers take a pledge of office, and must act intra vires; if they are not authorized to make “solo runs” then that is the end of the matter. If they are entitled to make an executive decision, within their powers, then that is an appropriate use of their responsibilities, provided that they follow whatever standard legal and administrative protocols are required when they make their decisions (e.g. with respect to notice, hearings, taking of evidence, and so on). Ministers in Northern Ireland are bound by Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act and other provisions to act in impartial and non-discriminatory ways. What Wilford – and many others – fear is Sinn Féin ministers exercising their ministerial responsibility (lawfully) without collective cabinet direction. But provided the cabinet and the Assembly are able to promote laws that lawfully restrict ministers’ discretion, we fail to see the cause for panic. Ministers were, and are now more firmly required, to consult where matters cross jurisdictions – and they will lose in court if they fail to act reasonably, and intra vires. Now ministers and a section of the Assembly may appeal against other ministerial decisions to the cabinet as a whole. If such rights are regularly exercised, ministers may end up curtailing one another’s zones of lawful discretion, and thereby overload themselves and increase the stalemates that Wilford complains of. Wise ministers may decide in the long run to respect one another’s autonomy for fear of having their own curtailed, but we shall see. We are not persuaded of the moral panic articulated by those schooled in Westminster conventions – who sometimes fail to realize that ministerial government is part of cabinet government. 59

See p. 182.

362

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Wilford is a scholarly critic, but he has a penchant for some odd metaphors. He complains, for example, that “the electorates have pulled up their communal skirts even higher and retreated into their respective voting blocs.”60 One wonders what kinds of skirts are being talked about here – short, medium, or long? Kilts or petticoats? (And, just where were the skirts located before being raised higher?) Wilford is right that governmental promotion of justice requires a focus on more than ethno-national issues. Provided the latter are not forgotten, we have no quarrel on this front. We think he is wrong, however, to imagine that any other form of cabinet government in Northern Ireland can generate the idealized joined-up government he seeks. Only a highly centralized prime ministerial domination unsuitable for a divided polity might be able to do that. Wilford thinks, like Farry, that the current power-sharing arrangements would not survive the withdrawal of the UUP and the SDLP from the cabinet. We shall see. That scenario might strengthen the position of the DUP and Sinn Féin as the dominant parties within their respective blocs, and encourage them to follow sufficiently cooperative policies to enhance their mutual electoral prospects. Those fears – and their d’Hondt entitlements – presently keep the UUP and the SDLP in the cabinet.

Jürg Steiner: on the spirit of accommodation Jürg Steiner, of Switzerland, is one of the founding fathers of consociational theory, and we are honoured that he comments on our work. Steiner is persuaded that consociation has played its part in promoting peace and a more consensual politics in Northern Ireland. But his first critical observation is that he misses “a systematic treatment of the cultural variable, which is a prominent part of consociational theory.”61 John Cash also complains that we fail “to systematically incorporate” recognition of culture.62 They are right. There is no systematic treatment in our introductory chapter, because one can only do so much. It is not the case, however, that we have not thought about these matters. Lijphart defined accommodation as the “settlement of divisive issues and conflict, where only a minimal consensus exists.”63 He thought that the secret of Dutch political stability – after a history of religious disputes – was “a spirit of accommodation” among its political elites. How did that spirit manifest itself ? Political leaders cooperated to avoid violent conflict in a benign selfdenying prophecy. They developed key capacities, the ability to accommodate the divergent interests and demands of their respective collective communities, to transcend cleavages to create common interests (note “interests,” rather 60 61 62 63

See p. 193. See p. 196. See p. 239. A. Lijphart (1968) The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in The Netherlands, Berkeley, University of California Press, p. 102.

Response

363

than “vision” or “identity”), to commit to maintain and improve the system, and, lastly, a prudent appreciation of the perils of fragmentation.64 The absence of a discussion of a spirit of accommodation in our opening chapter needs little explanation. It has not been part of the recent history of Northern Ireland, or of Ulster since the seventeenth century. In pre-democratic times (defined as the period before the mass electoral franchise was extended beyond the propertied) there was little evidence of a spirit of accommodation among British settler and Irish natives, or Protestants and Catholics. Once mass franchise politics developed – amid adversarial Westminster institutions – Irish and Ulster politics polarized between nationalists and unionists. Our response to Steiner (and Cash) is therefore simple: a spirit of accommodation can follow the agreement of consociational arrangements, but that is not guaranteed. One of us observed, shortly after the Agreement was made, that “success requires greater recognition among the informal coalition partners, especially within the UUP and Sinn Féin, that they may benefit more in the long run from not seeking maximum short-run advantage from one another’s difficulties.” The same article warned of the dangers of “a phoney ‘legalism,’ adversarial and petty-minded interpretation of the Agreement, postponement and prevarication, and brinkmanship,” and predicted that if the crises over decommissioning, executive formation, and police reform were not resolved there would be “a constitutional and policy mess that will require the making of another Agreement to end all Agreements.”65 Sometimes it is unpleasant to have warnings verified. One of the enduring questions in political science is whether political institutions generate political culture, or whether political culture generates institutions, or whether (as seems very likely) there are recursive interactions between institutions and cultures.66 We think that it is easier to change institutions than to change cultures, and we expect cultural changes to lag 64

65

66

This aspect of Lijphart’s work is specifically noted in B. O’Leary’s “Foreword: The realism of power-sharing,” which prefaces Kerr’s Imposing Power-Sharing, p. xxiii. B. O’Leary (1999) “The nature of the British-Irish Agreement,” New Left Review 233, pp. 94–95 (all quotes). For stimulating general discussions see G. Almond and S. Verba (1980) The Civic Culture Revisited: An Analytic Study, Boston, Little, Brown; B. Barry (1978) Sociologists, Economists and Democracy, Chicago, Chicago University Press; H. Eckstein (1996) “Culture as a foundation concept for the social sciences,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 8(4), 471–97; D. J. Elkins and R. E. B. Simeon (1979) “A cause in search of its effects, or what does political culture explain?” Comparative Politics 11(2), 127–45; D. D. Laitin (1986) Hegemony and Culture: Politics and Religious Change among the Yoruba, Chicago, University of Chicago Press; G. M. Patrick (1994) “Political culture,” in G. Sartori (ed.) Social Science Concepts: A Systematic Analysis, London, Sage, pp. 265–314; L. Pye (1965) Political Culture and Political Development, Princeton, NJ, Princeton University Press; and M. Thompson, R. Ellis, and A. Wildavsky (1990) Cultural Theory, Boulder, Westview. For discussions on Northern Ireland see J. Ruane and J. Todd (1991) “‘Why can’t you get along with each other?’ Culture, structure and the Northern Ireland conflict,” in E. Hughes (ed.) Culture and Politics in Northern Ireland, Buckingham, Open University Press, pp. 27–43; and McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, especially “Fiery values: Cultural interpretations,” pp. 214–64.

364

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

institutional changes. We therefore expect the new institutions and rights regime to take time to promote an apposite culture. There is some evidence that party leaders have cooled their rhetoric and cooperated to maintain and improve the system. It may be worth a researcher’s while to compare debates in the Northern Ireland Assembly with the Hansard record of the Northern Ireland parliament before 1972, or of the assemblies that existed in 1974 and during 1982–86 (in which nationalist parties did not participate). The St Andrews Agreement may have flowed from begrudging rather than fullhearted cooperation but leaders were aware of the perils of fragmentation. Dr Paisley chose power sharing rather than sticking to his previous principles, and the premiership cost him the moderatorship of the church that he had founded. Can one promote a spirit of accommodation? Perhaps, but the design science here is underdeveloped. Steiner has two suggestions, based on the Swiss experience: the referendum and deliberative democracy. We are not against referendums, in principle. Referenda, however, can be majoritarian devices. In Switzerland referendums that require both a majority of cantons and federation-wide consent are not purely majoritarian, and they act as checks on elite decisions that the Federal Council might initiate. In Northern Ireland, region-wide referenda without concurrent or super-qualified majority rules would be majoritarian, and therefore need to be used with circumspection in a consociational arrangement – though there is no reason why they should not be held for European Union matters. The referendums of 1998 worked because they were concurrent – they required both parts of Ireland to endorse the same settlement. They were deliberative, especially in Northern Ireland. Each household received a full copy of the Agreement, and Geoffrey Evans and Brendan O’Leary were able to show high levels of knowledge among the public about the content of the Agreement.67 A referendum on Irish unification would, we submit, necessarily be preceded by deliberation between the political leaders from both parts of Ireland, as the final arrangements would require positive affirmation in both jurisdictions. We are not against deliberation. Few academics could be; our professional sect specializes in it. But we are sceptical of Habermasian “ideal speech situations.” Most parliaments have closure and guillotine devices to curtail deliberation to make decisions; and senates or second chambers, which are more deliberative, are generally less powerful – and that may be a cause for regret. Consociational institutions may encourage deliberation among political leaders who should be more secure in arrangements in which they have co-decision-making rights. Others in this collection agree with us in this respect: O’Neill and Kerr. Steiner asks whether consociation in Northern Ireland was produced by deliberation, or by power bargaining. The answer is that deliberation played little part in interactions between Sinn Féin and the DUP (the latter refused to speak directly with the former until very recently, and the latter party has 67

G. Evans and B. O’Leary (2000) “Northern Irish voters and the British-Irish Agreement: Foundations of a stable consociational settlement,” Political Quarterly 71(1), 78–101.

Response

365

only recently embraced power sharing). But there were nearly 30 years of debates over power-sharing proposals of various kinds (from purely internal power sharing, through power sharing with an Irish dimension, joint sovereignty, and joint sovereignty with internal power sharing). In the 1970s and the 1990s there were conventions and forums on both sides of the border. We do not share Wilson’s conviction that the 1998 Agreement was prompted by civil society initiatives (he has in mind the Opsahl Commission in which he participated), but there were multiple conferences and deliberative engagements that contributed to the final outcome. The two sovereign governments deliberated and bargained with one another from the early 1980s – though that may not be what Steiner has in mind as democratic deliberation. So power-sharing institutions may be bargained for, or deliberatively produced, without a pre-existing culture of accommodation. Agreements may flow from a local balance of power and from external inducement or coercion, but their creation may then facilitate the formation of a new culture of accommodation, which may in turn promote more constructive deliberation. Deliberative democrats, in our view, are too sanguine about the efficacy of deliberation per se. “Jaw, jaw” is better than “war, war,” but both have their limits. If the rules of deliberation are not agreed, not much productive may be emitted. Policy makers need not delay until a culture of accommodation emerges before promoting power sharing. True, certain cultural conditions are unpropitious for power sharing, but under such conditions, neither majoritarian referenda nor deliberation are likely to be helpful. Steiner spends the first part of his chapter providing the sole defence of traditional consociational theory in the collection. Against our discussion of consociation and self-determination disputes, Steiner maintains that there are not many minorities that want to join other countries. Against our observations on external facilitations and interventions in the pursuit and maintenance of power sharing, he maintains that these are not widespread. Against our section on the importance of security institutions he maintains we have too many security variables and not enough cases for social scientific explanation. Steiner’s reply confirms our observation that some early consociational theorists, weaned on places like Switzerland and The Netherlands, are less imaginative about what is required outside these contexts. Perhaps our argument could have been put better. There are multiple self-determination disputes around the world, especially outside Europe.68 Can consociational 68

In 1992 Morton L. Halperin and his colleagues surveyed the self-determination disputes current in the world after the end of the Cold War. They counted 19 such disputes in African states, 12 in Asian states, 11 in European states, 4 in Latin America and the Caribbean states, 3 in the Middle East states, 2 in the 3 states of North America (they missed Mexico), 12 in the postSoviet successor states, and 6 in the post-Yugoslav successor states; see M. L. Halperin, D. Scheffer, and P. Small (1992) Self-Determination in the New World Order, Washington, DC, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, appendix. In many of these states there was more than one dispute. We are not claiming that all of these cases would benefit from consociational arrangements, but unlike Steiner we are prepared to consider the possibility that some would.

366

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

institutions help such conflicts? Yes, if they can be combined with crossborder institutions, which facilitate power sharing, proportionality, autonomy, and veto rights for the relevant national communities. Can and should third parties play a positive role in promoting consociation? Yes, and they will need to if they are working on places such as Iraq, Lebanon, Macedonia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and Cyprus. Can consociation help after civil wars? Yes, if policy attention is given to how security institutions fit into power sharing, are proportional, and respect autonomy. Many struggling peace settlements in many parts of the world would benefit from greater prescriptive attention to security questions, and consociational (and federal) thinkers need to be appraised of these matters. What of the suggestion of too many variables and too few cases for explanation? This is a standard problem in comparative politics, not just consociational analysis. Four recent independent large-N studies suggest that power-sharing matters. Ted Gurr suggests that since 1994 there has been a decline in the number of violent conflicts, in the balance of de-escalating over escalating conflicts, in the number of new conflicts, and in the number of secessionist wars. These data may merely suggest military victories or mutual exhaustion in the aftermath of the aftershocks from the collapse of western communism, but Gurr suggests important proactive roles were played by the Atlantic and European democracies, the United Nations, regional organizations, such as the European Union, the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, and the African Union, in preventive diplomacy, and in promoting accommodation. Many will be sceptical of such arguments and of such data, but he suggests, interestingly, that there has been an increase in “regimes of managed ethnic heterogeneity,” which protect collective group rights.69 Arend Lijphart and Bingham Powell, in separate studies of the democracies, have shown that democracies which are more “consensual” (Lijphart’s expression) or “proportional” (Bingham Powell’s) perform better – both in achieving stability and economic growth, and across a range of indices, which suggests they are associated with kinder and gentler forms of politics.70 Lastly, Pippa Norris’s Driving Democracy presents a large-N study, combined with well-chosen paired cases, in which parliamentarism, proportionality, and decentralization are associated with lower levels of violence, greater stability, and higher performance on a range of rights, liberty, and democracy indices.71 These studies have the typical problems of large-N studies with aggregate data, and where N is not very large (usually solved by using government69

70

71

See T. R. Gurr (2000) People Versus States: Minorities at Risk in the New Century, Washington, DC, United States Institute of Peace. Lijphart, Patterns of Democracy; G. Bingham Powell (2000) Elections as Instruments of Democracy: Majoritarian and Proportional Visions, New Haven, Yale University Press – see also the latter’s (1982) Contemporary Democracies: Participation, Stability, and Violence, Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press. Norris, Driving Democracy.

Response

367

years as the unit), but they do not point in a negative direction. Power sharing makes a difference, though not often enough, and there is no cause for complacency. Would adding in security dimensions render large-N studies even more problematic? We think not. What is required is to treat security institutions according to whether they meet consociational (or federal or centripetal) dimensions of power sharing. This is not a coding operation beyond the wit of political scientists. The security variable could be coded either as a dichotomous or as a continuous variable. (Incidentally, it is remarkable how few large-N studies examine the role of security institutions in explaining comparative degrees of domestic peace or conflict.)

Michael Kerr: on interventionism We warmly agree with much of what Michael Kerr writes. Like Guelke, Cash, Morison, and us, Kerr emphasizes the vital role of the British and Irish governments in facilitating consociation and post-Agreement stability. Unlike Guelke, Kerr acknowledges that is also our position, and that the two governments supported inclusive consociation because they saw it as the most realistic way to address the conflict (i.e. consociation has had an independent effect on promoting peace and stability). Kerr makes his argument comparatively, pointing to the helpful role that benign external intervention can play elsewhere, showing the negative results when such intervention is malign, and sensibly warns that Northern Ireland’s Agreement is context specific, and its lessons for conflict resolution cannot be easily exported. We do, however, wonder about his argument that “since the end of the Cold War, power sharing has increasingly been used as a post-colonial tool for western intervention in the non-democratic world.”72 This appears akin to the claim, frequently made by Asian governments, that democracy is a tool of western post-colonialism. Intervention to promote democracy and power sharing, as long as it is in good faith, is quite different from the self-interested undemocratic and divide-and-rule tactics traditionally used as “tools” of colonialism. Unlike some of our critics, Kerr acknowledges that unionism and nationalism are Northern Ireland’s two salient political identities. He supports the Agreement and inclusive power sharing. He does not believe that the Agreement has frozen or fossilized divisions. Kerr thinks it has worked, that its consolidation has required hardliners to share power, that access to power moderated republicans, and that cooperation between hard-line parties has provided the cover for moderate parties to cooperate. The hardliners’ pact, he notes, is not as fragile as it might seem intuitively. In addition to the protective oversight role played by the two governments, and the absence of outflanking parties, Kerr interestingly points out that it will be difficult for DUP politicians, now that they have embraced power sharing with 72

See p. 208.

368

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

republicans, to retreat to their previous position of considering this to be anathema. A line in the sand, or what Ian Lustick would call a “regime threshold,”73 has been crossed, though this does not mean, as Kerr recognizes, that a DUP–Sinn Féin power sharing is a certain medium- or longterm arrangement. He also provides an effective response to Steiner’s question about culture. Even the relatively brief experience with consociation since 1998 has given rise to new styles of accommodation and speech, though these are clearly fragile flowers, which need watering. Kerr agrees with Mitchell and Evans that the political polarization which allegedly followed the Agreement is a myth. The critics of consociation have mistaken “tribune-like” appeals, designed to prevent outflanking, as evidence of intransigence.

Robin Wilson: zealous integrationism Robin Wilson apparently acts on the supposition that a good way to encourage “democratic dialogue” is to accuse his interlocutors of being “bleak,” promoting “essentialism,” “perversity,” “canards,” and “dystopian vision.” Regrettably, he fails to respond directly to most of the criticisms of his work contained in our “Argument.” His is the most extreme anti-consociational chapter in this volume. Wilson remains strongly convinced that the Agreement has produced no good, which places him in a small minority, even among our critics. He shares with Farry, O’Flynn, and Taylor the view that a “voluntary” coalition would be more stable than one comprised by d’Hondt. Apparently that would make violence “politically unsustainable.” He criticizes us for claiming that radicals outside the tent destroyed the 1974 Sunningdale moderate coalition. Wilson suggests that it failed because it lost the support of unionist moderates and that the current power-sharing pact faces the same danger. He maintains that there has been increased social segregation because of the Agreement, and like Farry, Wilford, and Taylor, observes that there are more “peace walls” or interface barriers now than before 1998. The one placed through the grounds of Hazelwood integrated school is directly linked by Wilson to consociational politics. Its construction, he explains, was announced “a few weeks after the restoration” of power sharing in May 2007.74 While Wilson acknowledges that lethal violence has declined, in his view that has little to do with the Agreement or consociation. Rather, the violence is said to have begun to decline before the Agreement, the reduction being the result of pressure from civil society, including pressure from groups with which Wilson was associated, rather than the consequence of elite agreements, either between the British and Irish governments or Northern Ireland’s political parties. The number of non-lethal violent acts (shootings and assaults), Wilson 73 74

I. Lustick (1993) Unsettled States, Disputed Lands, Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press. See p. 222.

Response

369

continues to argue, increased after the Agreement, during the unstable experience with consociation between 1999 and 2002, and declined only after the consociational institutions were suspended. His argument is therefore not just that consociation did not reduce the violence, but rather that it exacerbated it. Wilson proposes unabashed integrationism as the way forward – an “integrated society conforming to the democratic norm that the individual citizen rather than the ‘community,’ comprises the social unit.”75 He offers integration and the impartial civic state as a prescription – what he calls an “intercultural paradigm, with its cosmopolitan purview and commitment to universal human-rights norms.”76 We are accused of ignoring divisions within cultures, “essentializing” the two national communities, and wanting “every individual [to] be pigeonholed into the categories of ethno-nationalist division.”77 The integrationist approach, he argues, is neutral between nationalists and unionists. In support, he cites the Patten Commission’s recommendation that the police be freed from association with either the British or Irish states as an example of the far-reaching potential of civic neutrality.78 We have dealt with many of Wilson’s claims in our “Argument,” and in earlier sections of this chapter. Unlike Wilford, Farry, and O’Flynn, who recognize that liberal consociation is fair to all identity groups, Wilson is unrelenting. But he has his facts wrong. There is no evidence that segregation has increased since the Agreement, or that the increase in peace walls can be attributed to the Agreement or to consociation. The decision to erect the Hazelwood barrier was based on an incident that transpired nine months before the resumption of power sharing, and the decision to build it was taken not by the power-sharing executive, but by the British government. The downward trend in non-lethal violent acts has continued. It has not been disrupted by the DUP–Sinn Féin pact, see Table 18.1. Moreover, the overwhelming majority of these acts, as stated in our “Argument,” are intrarather than inter-bloc, and have been carried out by opponents of the Agreement. Regarding the feasibility of a voluntary coalition of moderates, Wilson forgets that the SDLP and UUP were unable to cooperate closely at any 75 76 77 78

See p. 221. See p. 226. See pp. 221, 223–24. The Patten Report was informed by a Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights report, which Wilson helped to formulate. We hope he will allow us to share some of the credit for influencing Patten’s recommendations. Barry White of the Belfast Telegraph reported after the release of the Commission’s report, “What really surprised me was the number of times Patten refers to a book by two academics, John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary, Policing Northern Ireland. Its summary makes ten points, most of which find their way into the report in some form”; “Patten … finding the gems in the detail,” Belfast Telegraph, September 18, 1999. See J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (1999) Policing Northern Ireland: Proposals for a New Start, Belfast, Blackstaff Press.

370

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Table 18.1 Number of shootings and assaults, 2003–8 Year*

2003–4

2004–5

2005–6

2006–7

2007–8

Shootings Assaults Total

157 153 310

94 114 208

78 81 159

28 47 75

8 45 53

Source: The Eighteenth Report of the International Monitoring Commission, London, The Stationery Office, May 2008, pp. 17–18, www.independentmonitoringcommission.org Note: * The year is from March 1 to February 28/29.

point during the conflict, or in the early post-Agreement years, when the DUP opposed the Agreement and republicans refused to decommission. The difficulties between Trimble and Mallon, and Trimble and Durkan have been documented by others in this volume, but should not be attributed solely to personality clashes. As Kerr points out, the SDLP and UUP have indeed increased their cooperation recently, but they have done so within the context of the DUP–Sinn Féin pact, i.e. when their political flanks have been protected. We do not accept the claim that the Sunningdale voluntary coalition was brought down by moderates. We personally witnessed its collapse as frightened schoolboys. Wilson’s “moderates” who brought it down were dressed in camouflage, balaclavas, and sunglasses. They also carried cudgels; they were specialists in harassment. The problem with Wilson’s notion of “impartiality” is rather straightforward. Inter-culturalism seeks neutrality between cultures, and not neutrality between nationalities qua nationalities. Wilson simply seeks to put aside questions about the state’s boundaries, since these are seen as divisive. But, of course, to do so is to the advantage of the constitutional status quo, i.e. unionists, and to beg the fundamental question. He would prefer to see Catholics, Protestants, and others, rather than nationalists and unionists. But virtually all of Northern Ireland’s electorate supports nationalist and unionist parties through their voting decisions, there are no religious parties, and very few support the others. It is entirely unclear how Wilson’s inter-culturalism differs from the civic unionist model of a multicultural Union,79 except that Wilson’s inter-culturalism places even more stress on an integrated (single public) identity. The reference to Patten’s proposals with regard to policing flags and symbols shows the limits of Wilson’s neutrality. The proposal was an advance, which we supported, but implementing it in isolation left control over policing in the hands of the British state, and this imbalance has yet to be resolved. The morning that we finished our response to Wilson we read the following in the Irish Times: “People in Northern Ireland generally believe 79

See, for example, N. Porter (1996) Rethinking Unionism: An Alternative Vision for Northern Ireland, Belfast, Blackstaff Press.

Response

371

relations between Catholics and Protestants have improved and will continue to improve, according to a major Northern Ireland Life and Times survey … Political consultant Robin Wilson, who analysed the results on behalf of ARK [Social and Political Archive], said it was ‘encouraging to find that people’s political priorities are moving away from constitutional arguments towards the bread and butter issues that characterize a “normal” society’ … 65 per cent of people believe that relations are now better between Protestants and Catholics while only 2 per cent believe they are worse. Moreover, 64 per cent of respondents believe they will further improve over the next five years while only 3 per cent think they will get worse.”80 Robin Wilson can adjust his views according to empirical evidence, though not, apparently, when it is framed by us.

John Cash: structuration John Cash, like Shane O’Neill, bears a distinguished name. Cash’s chapter prompts memories of his namesake’s song “Before my Time,” which may be heard on the album American III: A Solitary Man. It begins: I know that hearts were lovin’, Long before I was here, And I’m not the first to ever cry, In my bed or in my beer. There were songs before there was radio, Of love that stays, and love that goes, They were writing melancholy tunes, And tearful words that rhyme, Before my time. By contrast John Cash tells us that before our times “hearts were hatin’,” and that there were songs (and marches) before there were modern media, “of hate that stays, and hate that goes.” Like us, he hopes that hate is on its way. Unlike others here, Cash recognizes that the 1998 and 2006 Agreements have made identity reconstruction possible. He differs from Taylor and Wilson, who blame continuing sectarianism on the Agreements. He thinks local sectarianism manifests itself in spite of the Agreements, or because some local areas have not been touched by them. He maintains there are now open spaces for “civil society” to do constructive work in deprived areas, whereas previously such initiatives were bound to fail because of polarized politics. But, Cash admonishes us for underplaying culture, not appreciating psychology, and overestimating consociation. In responding to Steiner we said much of what we want to say to Cash on the relations between institutions and culture, and we obviously reject Cash’s 80

G. Moriarty, “Survey reveals optimism NI relations will improve,” Irish Times, June 12, 2008.

372

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

thesis that “the structuration of Northern Ireland’s political culture(s) … has always overdetermined the prospects of change through institutional rearrangements.”81 But Cash has distinctive observations that warrant a particular response. We have no quarrel with one of these formulations, namely, “The ultimate issue under consideration within the debates about consociationalism is change at the level of political identities and within political cultures; can the friend–enemy discourse be tamed and domesticated through elite-level bargaining or can it be displaced?”82 Cash suggests that Northern Ireland has moved from a friend–enemy political culture to an adversarial political culture (and that this is a good thing). We would say, by contrast, that Northern Ireland is moving from an adversarial political culture, associated with Westminster-style majoritarian institutions, toward a more accommodationist culture, based on consensual and consociational institutions (and that that is a good thing). Does this difference reflect no more than alternative terminologies? We use the standard vocabulary of political science, but we refuse the simple dogmatism of saying that we are professionally correct, whereas Cash is not. There is a real difference here. Cash uses the concepts of Carl Schmitt in ways that we might be peculiar in finding confusing. (We have never understood why left-wing democrats should so frequently invoke Schmitt, the Catholic Nazi apologist and ferocious critic of parliamentary democracy.) Schmitt’s friend–enemy distinction treats politics as conceptually equivalent to antagonism, and, in the extreme, war. All Schmittians (right or left wing), we believe, should be reminded that “the political” can (and should) include dialogue, persuasive argument, the aggregation of interests, the allocation of values and public goods through law and policy, and cooperation – though, of course, it also includes coercion and conflict. Power can be both zero-sum and positive-sum. In The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland we insisted on the local dominance of friend–enemy politics (to use Schmittian expressions) in Ulster from the colonial era.83 The colonial legacies were then channelled and reinforced through Westminster’s adversarial institutions, before and after partition. Cash complains that our position “unduly privileges institutional arrangements per se.”84 That is the issue between us; we think he unduly privileges culture. The social universe is not exhausted by a contrast between institutions and culture, and distinguishing institutions from cultures is not straightforward. Let us label as “humans and their environment” everything potentially relevant for explanation that is not either within the domain of 81 82 83

84

See pp. 244–45. See p. 243. B. O’Leary and J. McGarry (1996) The Politics of Antagonism: Understanding Northern Ireland, 2nd edn, London, The Athlone Press, especially ch. 2. See p. 244.

Response

373

institutions or of culture. We do not, of course, hold that everything entailed in “humans and their environment” has no autonomous impact on institutions or culture. Instead we argued for our positions on culture and institutions in a 50-page evaluation in Explaining Northern Ireland, which concluded: The stereotypical reading of the Irish as ‘wild men and women’, imbued with fiery values, will not do as a general explanation. The emphasis some scholars give to the local cultures in Northern Ireland also seems misplaced; their local coloration is less important than the fact they are subcultures of two national cultures, one British, the other Irish. Moreover, both communities, according to their own protestations, are happy to tolerate the other’s culture, meaning its religion and national culture. What they find problematic is that the state of the other community claims national sovereignty over the territory, and that the other community seeks different political institutions. There is also no fundamental problem of cultural misunderstanding … Each community knows what the other wants … There is a fear of extinction or subordination in each community, and it is these fears which make it politically important for many to commit themselves to their community’s cultural manifestations. That said, Northern Ireland is the site of one fundamental cultural clash: the clash of rival political nationalisms. In the national sovereignty trap, which is not unique to Northern Ireland, there is a deadly belief that each national culture must have one, and only one, political roof for its protection and expression. The central problem which must be addressed in the peace process … is how to transcend this national sovereignty trap so that each national community is equally secure, recognized and expressed.85 Cash observes that we show no “systematic engagement with psychological theories and their extension into the analysis of social and political relations,”86 though he does not confine this criticism to us. Cash declares he uses Sigmund Freud, Melanie Klein, and Judith Butler in his work, and suggests we might all benefit from Pierre Bourdieu’s and Anthony Giddens’ account(s) of structuration. The latter, however, are not, by any definition, including theirs, psychologists. They are sociologists. We confess we derive no benefit from “structuration theory,” which we believe papers over the cracks between starting from structures (determination) or agency (free will) in the social sciences. At its best, structuration theory highlights an epistemic problem, but provides no resolution to it. To be more brutal, where structuration “theory” is sensible its insights can be said effortlessly, in plainer English, and are known. 85 86

McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, pp. 263–64. See p. 248.

374

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

The social psychology of ethnic conflict, by contrast, is a very interesting field, if underdeveloped.87 Experimental social psychology is, we think, much more scientific than the schools of psychoanalysis built within the unfalsifiable circles of Freud and his disciples.88 The work of Ed Cairns is most insightful on the micro-foundations of ethnic-identity formation in Northern Ireland;89 Ken Heskin periodically refuted claims of societal disintegration in Northern Ireland;90 and Miles Hewstone has used Northern Ireland in systematic efforts to demonstrate the merits of the much discussed “contact hypothesis” – roughly speaking, the hypothesis that appropriately structured interactions will reduce prejudices, antagonisms, and fears among members of groups in conflict.91 The agenda of the “contact hypothesis” is surely one in which consociationalists, integrationists, and social psychologists might profitably engage in empirical and experimental research to clarify truth and values. But, most social psychologists use experimental groups of a rather small size (often middle-class students outside, or abstracted from, major political institutions), and few have done systematic work on ethnic or national groups and the linkages to the relevant biological and neurological sciences.92 We think it is reasonable to suggest that integrationists are mission committed to the truth of the contact hypothesis, with few qualifications, whereas consociationalists are more likely to emphasize the institutional structures and political environment that may permit contact to have the productive effects hoped for. “Realistic group-conflict theory,” is a different approach within social psychology, and seems to spell out the social psychological assumptions that arguably underpin our own political approach to ethnic 87

88

89

90

91

92

See, for example, some of the survey essays in D. Chirot and M. E. P. Seligman (eds) (2001) Ethnopolitical Warfare: Causes, Consequences, and Possible Solutions, Washington, DC, American Psychological Association. The conference, from which this book resulted, was held because Seligman, then the president of the American Psychological Association, and his Canadian counterpart, were persuaded that psychologists had not done enough to explore ethno-political conflict. We are persuaded by Ernest Gellner’s astringent appraisals of psychoanalysis; see E. Gellner (1985) The Psychoanalytic Movement: Or the Cunning of Unreason, London, Paladin. (In the first edition the subtitle was misprinted as “The Coming of Unreason”!) E. Cairns (1987) Caught in Crossfire: Children and the Northern Ireland Conflict, Belfast, Appletree Press. K. Heskin (1980) Northern Ireland: A Psychological Analysis, Dublin, Gill & Macmillan; K. Heskin (1985) “Societal disintegration in Northern Ireland: A five year update,” Economic and Social Review 16(3), 187–99. See the essay by M. Hewstone and E. Cairns (2001) “Social psychology and intergroup conflict,” in Chirot and Seligman (eds), Ethnopolitical Warfare, pp. 319–42. For an extensive survey of the literature on the contact hypothesis in social psychology and sociology see H. D. Forbes (1997) Ethnic Conflict: Commerce, Culture and the Contact Hypothesis, New Haven, CT, Yale University Press. For a highly instructive account of what we can and cannot learn about our conflict and cooperative proneness from the science of primates see Stanford biological and neurological scientist Robert Sapolsky’s (2006) “A natural history of peace,” Foreign Affairs 85(1), 104–20.

Response

375

conflict. “Terror-management theory,” which suggests that our commitments to our own cultures are driven by our consciousness of our own mortality also has promising possibilities.93 We cannot pursue these threads here, but, in brief, Cash’s concepts of what constitute promising psychological approaches to ethnic conflict are not ours. We have read no convincing payoffs to understanding the issues in contention here in the works of Freud, Klein, Bourdieu, or Giddens (though Butler’s work on passionate attachments is insightful). Cash’s major direct objection is that he thinks we overestimate consociation, but, unlike Guelke, he credits us for stressing the importance of the two sovereign governments (and others) in its promotion. (This is a remarkable example of how two independent readers can interpret the same text in strikingly different ways.) Cash’s claim is that once the external management and the resolution of security questions are factored into explaining peace and stability, we must conclude that consociation itself was of relatively little consequence. He even argues that we implicitly agree with his claim that the internal arrangements were less important. Consociation in Cash’s view was helpful (“efficient”), but not necessary.94 Cash’s argument requires a counterfactual thought-experiment in which we are obliged to imagine that there could and would have been productive bi-governmentalism from the UK and Irish governments, presumably including cross-border cooperation, extensive police reform, and an end to paramilitary violence, without any agreement to have a consociation within Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland immediately after the Anglo-Irish Agreement (1985–92) looked like this counter-factual experiment. It was an environment of (eventually productive) unionist alienation. What changed matters was precisely the ability to negotiate devolved consociational institutions to avoid increased bi-governmentalism. The judgement of Trimble’s UUP, and later of Paisley’s DUP, was the same: negotiated consociation was better than increased bi-governmentalism. That was what created cross-community consent, albeit of an unsteady kind, for consociation. Can we imagine that in the absence of the 1998 and 2006 Agreements the two governments would have been able to manage a successful termination of the peace process? We think not. We also have the empirical advantage that events happened as they did. There were, or course, high levels of interdependence between consociation and other institutions in delivering a stable outcome, and between exogenous and endogenous promotions of change. But Cash is misguided in imagining that we “implicitly” think that consociation played no important role compared with other variables. 93

94

C. McAuley (2001) “The psychology of group identification and the power of ethnic nationalism,” in Chirot and Seligman (eds), Ethnopolitical Warfare, pp. 343–62. See p. 249.

376

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

Adrian Little: large complexities Adrian Little suggests our work has been part of the “dominant paradigm,” and has played a significant part in its reproduction. We must remonstrate in strong Ulster English “Dominant among whom Mister?” In the years we laboured in Ulster’s vineyards we were, unknown to ourselves, part of the dominant professoriate, but Little warns we should not now rest content. We operate within “a narrow, limited paradigm” of liberalism and democracy, are blind to the insights that arise from a “complexity paradigm,” fail to examine the presuppositions of defining democracy, and are locked into “a security paradigm,” which “neglects the continuation of emotive politics.” Given these pronouncements readers might have expected Little to advance non-liberal (or illiberal) and non-democratic (or undemocratic) interpretations and prescriptions for Northern Ireland. But Little stops short of opening this interesting vista when he declares that “The issue … is not one of seeking non-liberal or non-democratic answers to the questions that arise in Northern Ireland.”95 Good, we do not have to explore the implications of the thoughts of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, neo-B’athists, Moqtada al-Sadr, or Osama bin Laden on “the Northern Ireland question” (we put the subject inside quotation marks because we are having a post-structuralist conversation). Powerful people and organizations have commended (and tried) illiberal and authoritarian ways to solve, resolve, or dissolve the “Northern Ireland question.” So we are pleased that the present discussion focuses on liberal and democratic strategies and institutions, even among those who claim to want to go “beyond” these limitations. But Little simply gestures toward other such possibilities in his chapter, and had Little researched our past he would have found that we have written both on the limitations of liberalism,96 and on democracy.97 Our positions are both more radical, and less dominant than he suggests. He thinks we should concede that consociation is not democratic, but it is not clear, at least from his chapter, why we should, and we did argue to the contrary. Little fails to register that most liberals are strongly anti-consociational, and that most democrats are strongly anti-consociational. Our claim was that it is possible to be liberal, democratic, and consociational. That was the argument to be engaged. Little walks away from it. Little does not persuade us that there is much to be gained from applying post-structuralism, discourse theory, or complexity theory to Northern Ireland. Post-structuralism is, at best, an anti-foundationalist doctrine, which 95 96

97

See p. 257. J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2005) “Five fallacies: Northern Ireland and the liabilities of liberalism,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 18(4), 837–61, reprinted in J. Stone and D. Rutledge (eds) (2002) Race and Ethnicity in Global Society, Oxford, Basil Blackwell, pp. 171–86, and in McGarry and O’Leary, The Northern Ireland Conflict, ch. 5. P. Dunleavy and B. O’Leary (1987) Theories of the State: The Politics of Liberal Democracy, Basingstoke, Macmillan.

Response

377

questions the stability of premises, but Little performs no “deconstruction” of the kind found among literary critics influenced by Jacques Derrida. “Discourse theory,” in Ernesto Laclau’s version, has run from the economic determinism of traditional historical materialism into a warrantless overemphasis on discourse and ideology, in the course of which it treats humanity as if it is comprised of cognitively challenged persons.98 These brief ripostes may be deemed wholly unjustified question begging, but our point is that Little provides no evidence that these authors or their “methods” enable novel insights on the matters under discussion. The subtitle of Little’s commentary is “Towards a complexity paradigm.” The “complexity paradigm,” as sketched, looks like a revival of what used to be called “systems theory” (which made much of “emergent properties”) when we were graduate students. But Little adds a fresh helping of 1990s popular science, based on the mathematics of chaos and order, that implicitly mixes in Paul Pierson’s efforts to take time seriously in historical and policy causality. Jennifer Todd’s and Joseph Ruane’s application of “pathdependence” explanation, derived from Pierson, is, however, deemed insufficient by Little.99 By the demanding standards of this complexity paradigm, we suspect that whatever anyone wrote it would be deemed “insufficient.” Had we argued that the Agreement was produced by omniscient and hyper-rational agents it might have been appropriate to observe that “actors can never fully comprehend the issues that they have to address.”100 So we are not sure who benefits from this philosophical insight. Ineffably confused and baffled human agents operate with explicit or tacit models and mechanisms of the social world to manage its complexity. They are wise to do so, and even wiser to revise their models both in the light of experience and through better models. That said, we doubt if a complexity paradigm will help understand why consociation emerged in Northern Ireland or why it will eventually disappear. All structures eventually dissipate – the second law of thermodynamics was taught in Northern Ireland grammar schools in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and we are aware of its implications. And a theory that would specify the mechanisms that will cause the dissipation of the new consociational institutions would be of interest. But Little does not supply it. How fair is it to suggest, as Little does, that we ignore gendered, class, or racial violence? He does not suggest we are sexist, bourgeois, or racist, but he may be read to suggest that we do not care sufficiently for women, the working class, or racially stigmatized groups. We plead “not guilty.” We simply do not think that gender- or class-based literatures have much to tell us about the specific causation and dynamics of the Northern Ireland conflict 98

For a powerful demolition of Laclau’s social theory see N. Geras (1990) Discourses of Extremity: Radical Ethics and Post-Marxist Extravaganzas, London, Verso, especially part two. 99 J. Ruane and J. Todd (2007) “Path dependence in settlement processes: Explaining settlement in Northern Ireland,” Political Studies 55(2), 442–58. 100 See p. 254.

378

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

since 1920 (or its historical antecedents). That does not mean that there were no class struggles, or that men have not been brutal toward women or worse (and with some initiative going the other way), or that there was no British racism toward Irish people. We were not focusing on what was ubiquitous in much of the Anglosphere of the last two centuries (classism, sexism, and racism) but rather on what was distinctive to the Northern Ireland conflict.

Ian O’Flynn: on false dichotomies The Cork-born philosopher and musician Ian O’Flynn divides the debate over Northern Ireland into two radical views, and then inserts himself in the reasonable middle. The radical views are based, respectively, on “accommodation,” the promotion of “multiple” public identities; and on “integration,” the promotion of a “single” public identity. Both extremes are wrong, O’Flynn argues, because any divided polities need simultaneously to respect multiple identities and a “single” identity. They need both accommodation and integration. This argument misreads us, and radically misunderstands what we mean by, and have written about, “integration” and “accommodation.” O’Flynn’s riff starts on a false note. “Integration,” as we define it, involves the construction of a “single” public identity, which cannot, by definition, exist alongside other (multiple) public identities. In the integrationist view, other identities must be privatized. Ergo, by definition integration promotes one overarching public identity at the expense of all other public identities. Accommodationists, by contrast, seek to promote “multiple” public identities. This does not mean, as O’Flynn asserts, that they are interested in only “discrete” or separate identities and not in any overarching identity. “Multiple” encompasses both separate and overarching identities. O’Flynn’s argument overreaches because it is based on false premises. Our contrast between “integration” and “accommodation” may create the impression that accommodationists oppose integration, as this term is understood in everyday parlance. But we were careful to define our meaning of “integration” precisely. Elsewhere, we have sought to dispel this kind of confusion: “‘Integrationists’ usually forget that consociation may also be considered ‘integrationist.’ While Lijphart does not exclude secession or partition to resolve deep conflicts, the focus of his work is on integrating diverse groups within states through accommodating them as groups … Though ‘integrationists’ arguably should not be allowed to monopolize a concept with positive connotations, we shall follow here the emergent convention and identify as ‘integrationists’ those who want to integrate states without accommodating groups qua groups.”101 101

J. McGarry and B. O’Leary (2008) “Consociational theory and peace agreements in plurinational places: Northern Ireland and other cases,” in G. Ben-Porat (ed.) The Failure of the Middle East Peace Process? Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 71–72.

Response

379

Consociationalists see the accommodation of different public identities in deeply divided polities as the only feasible democratic path towards an overarching identity. As we wrote in the closing section of our “Argument,” “We believe that if the current institutions endure, a common Northern Irish identity may come to be shared by most unionists and nationalists; but that will be the work of at least two decades, and it will be consociation that eases the path to this shared identity.”102 O’Flynn misses this point. O’Flynn, like Wilson and Wilford, opposes an inclusive executive comprised by d’Hondt, and calls instead for a coalition to be constructed on a weighted majority (60 per cent). If his preferred executive composition rule had been included in the Belfast Agreement or the St Andrews Agreement, it would have made possible a coalition without the DUP or, more likely, without Sinn Féin. We argued in the opening chapter that such a coalition might not have been able to cooperate, because at least one of its participants would have been subjected to outflanking attacks. There is no compelling ground for thinking that such a coalition rule would have moderated the excluded party or parties – exclusion from office had not produced that effect over previous decades. D’Hondt was acceptable to all parties, and established incentives to moderate the extremes. The “primary” virtue of d’Hondt is not (as O’Flynn suggests we think), that it reduces the transactional costs of bargaining over ministerial portfolios, but that it is democratically fair – as we have explained in our reply to Wilford.

John Morison: high legal theory John Morison tells us that we are “in some ways strangely old-fashioned, formalistic, and top-down.”103 We are, apparently, overly focused on the high politics of executives, legislatures, parties, and electoral systems. The transitional-justice perspective, with its emphasis on matters like “policing, criminal justice and truth telling” is a “useful … corrective to ideas that a ‘solution’ has been found in terms of the present carve-up of political roles.”104 He is an advocate of participation – a subject we have addressed in our reply to Jürg Steiner. Morison implies that we would benefit from reading modern constitutional law through the filters of the works of, inter alia, Roberto Unger, Jürgen Habermas, James Tully, and (the ex-Althusserian) Etienne Balibar, Michel Foucault, Giles Deleuze, and Ulrich Preuss, as well as some less internationally famous jurists. We confess we have read Unger, Habermas, Tully, and Foucault.105 But we fail to understand what Morison would have us do with the work of these 102

See p. 83. See p. 279. 104 See pp. 284–85. 105 Balibar, Deleuze, and Preuss have hit our reading tracts, but are less prominent figures on the stage of high theory. 103

380

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

luminaries, other than to enhance our cultural (if not negative) capabilities. Morison does not show how their insights might improve, qualify, or falsify our work, or, more importantly, the constitutional politics of Northern Ireland. He gestures at our deficiencies, but provides no legible alternatives. Some of our readers might like us to be disciplined and punished, but Morison is silent on how one might prescriptively use Foucauldian themes in constitutional renewal. Unger’s spectacularly imaginative collages demonstrate the plasticity and freedom that he would have all display, but say nothing substantial, grave or funny, about racial or ethnic conflict (an arresting absence in a Brazilian intellectual). Unger’s most detailed constitutional proposals of the 1980s recommended “dualist” constructions, in which presidents and parliaments would be encouraged to engage in creative and productive conflicts through exercising overlapping powers, their deadlocks to be resolved by popular consultations (plebiscites?).106 These commendations look ill-considered in the light of Latin American experiences (past and present), and those of the Fifth French Republic (Finland and Portugal have abandoned their versions of the French system of “semi-presidentialism”). Not one of our critics, Morison included, suggests that Northern Ireland needs a strong president clashing creatively with a strong parliament, with “the people” consulted in regular referendums to break deadlocks.107 But that is what an appropriation of Ungerism would have ushered in. Like many Latin American intellectuals, Unger was overly focused on his dislike of the United States and its constitutional institutions in the 1980s. He mistakenly thought these institutions were the exemplary institutional DNA of modern democracies, and blamed them for blocking decisive acts of transformative will (he wrote in the time of Bush 41, not Bush 43). These constitutional excursions overlooked the fact that the Westminster model has what Unger wanted in abundance, viz. a decisive executive. But the local variation of that model in Northern Ireland did not aid “radical democracy.” Instead it aided the tyranny of the majority. Morison does not persuade us that Unger should be hired as a constitutional consultant for the Lagan and Bann valleys, and this discussion convinces us that there are some merits in being old-fashioned. Habermas consistently expresses revulsion at ethnic nationalism, like all good modern Germans.108 The European Union has benefited extensively from the constitutionalism and pan-European orientation of Habermas’ cohort, which has rehabilitated Germany in civilization. But how exactly 106

R. M. Unger (1987) Politics: A Work in Constructive Social Theory, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, three volumes. 107 Steiner looks kindly on the referendum, but on the concurrent majority referendum of the people and cantons of his native land, which enjoys an almost anonymous executive, and which has a collective rather than a wilful single person presidency. 108 See, for instance, J. Habermas (1997) A Berlin Republic: Writings on Germany, Lincoln, NE, University of Nebraska Press.

Response

381

should we apply the discourse of “constitutional patriotism” in this case? If Morison had been generous he might have seen our work as a defence of Northern Ireland’s new constitution. Its refusal to entrench just one ethnonational identity and its current interests at the expense of another might be construed in Habermas’s language as a means to establish better dialogue (if not undistorted communication). We did not offer such a reading, but that is what O’Neill proposed in his chapter, and he is the Habermas specialist in this group of writers. Of the high theory figures Morison invokes, James Tully alone speaks directly to the constitutional reconstructions of deeply divided places.109 His high-minded hymns to multiculturalism amid deep diversity and his recovery of the “ancient constitutions” of pre-modern peoples are invariably attractively phrased, often hypnotically and romantically so. They are also not always convincing. His pluralist commitments and emphasis on recognition are compatible with liberal consociational arrangements. The wider and wilder parts of his canvas are not, however, pertinent for the hard men and women of the north. Northern Ireland nationalists do not seek the recovery and revival of the Gaelic septs, tanistry, or Brehon law. Tullyites may speak for some of Canada’s first nations, some of whom may have ambitions to recover their ancient cultures, but in the six counties of north-east Ulster they have no serious counterparts in the resident first nation (first in time, rather than status). Readers from outside law schools need to appreciate a curious development in legal education that is registered in Morison’s response. In the last three decades, responding to the narrow rigidities of black-letter law, and perceived generations of conformity to the powers that were, many law schools, especially in the United States, created parallel suppliers of social theory alongside the conventional pedagogical supply. In a word, they bought the Frankfurt school. That is why law schools now often have the after-flavours of 1968. These attributes, by contrast, are not found in political science or economics faculties (flower power and other fashions had less penetration here). We can therefore return Morison’s criticism. The social theorists and theories, popular in modern law schools, are often throwbacks to a previous era. We may not be fashionable to prefer social science to social theory, but we are comfortable as social democrats, liberals, and consociationalists. Morison takes us to task for not understanding parliamentary sovereignty. He criticizes us for our proposal to entrench the Agreement in a European constitution or treaty. Apparently, if we believe that our proposals would safeguard the Agreement, we just do not understand how far-reaching is parliamentary sovereignty, because, he reminds us, it enables the UK government to break its treaty commitments. But this is a caricature of our 109

J. Tully (1995) Strange Multiplicity: Constitutionalism in an Age of Diversity, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

382

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

position, which started from exactly this difficulty with parliamentary sovereignty. At one juncture in the last decade, it was possible to hope for a European constitution, i.e. one that would be binding on all member-states, irrespective of their own legal traditions, and one that would grant some exclusive functions to European institutions. Our hope was to promote a protocol that would have granted final jurisdiction over the 1998 Agreement to the European Court of Justice. This proposal, in other words, made sense against a backdrop in which a radical curtailment of the sovereignty of the UK parliament would have occurred. That is not now going to happen. All that can now happen is to have binding arbitration over any treaty which might protect the Agreement – and that would be vulnerable to a UK decision to break its treaty obligations. Morison maintains that we appear to be unaware of more novel and superior ways to protect the Agreement that rest on new legal thinking, one that distinguishes ordinary from constitutional statutes, and which might offer protection for the 1998 Agreement (and the St Andrews Agreement). But such “thinking” is itself wholly vulnerable to the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty. And the arguments to treat the 1998 Agreement as a constitution were not the dominant voices in the relevant legal cases that have gone to the Lords since 1998. The idea that the security of political agreements should be left to judicial interpretation alone, without formal constitutional protection, is also not one that we are happy with, because we are not British, and because we are constitutionalists.

Liam O’Dowd: materialist man Liam O’Dowd has been a fluent and elegant voice on Northern Ireland. Together with John Coakley he has presided over an extensive and impressive interdisciplinary research programme on cross-border relations in Ireland. He has treated Marxist historical materialism as an important frame in diagnosis and prescription on Northern Ireland.110 The three of us take colonialism seriously in explaining Irish history and other conflicts in other places.111 We agree that the British state was part of and not above the conflict in Northern Ireland. O’Dowd points out, as we do, that defenders of the nation-state, in this case the UK state, are often determined to depict themselves as antinationalist and post-nationalist, while tarring those who seek a binational resolution as reifying nationalism and surrendering to backward politics. As he puts it, “In bracketing, circumventing, and avoiding the issue of competing nationalisms, integrationists can delude themselves that all they are doing is 110

L. O’Dowd, B. Rolston, and M. Tomlinson (1980) Northern Ireland: Between Civil Rights and Civil War, London, CSE Books. 111 L. O’Dowd (1990) “New introduction,” to Albert Memmi’s The Colonizer and the Colonized, Introduced by Jean-Paul Sartre, New Introduction by Liam O’Dowd, London, Earthscan Publications, pp. 29–66.

Response

383

opposing political rights for collectivities and groups in favour of individual rights.” He also observes that academics often proclaim themselves as “antinationalist tout court … usually ‘other peoples’ [nationalism].”112 We agree. There are, however, differences between us. O’Dowd postgraduated in the 1970s, whereas we are of the 1980s. O’Dowd was a founding member of Ireland’s Sociological Association in 1973, whereas we took PhDs in political science, which may be why we think he is more susceptible to functionalist explanations. Perhaps these differences explain why we were less left wing and more critical of Marxism, though we notice much less policy differences between us today. O’Dowd’s principal complaint is that we are “determinedly anti-materialist,” in particular we give insufficient weight to the material dimensions of identities; we are overly “ideational”; and that we fail to register the “multidimensional” struggle over “demographic balance, houses, jobs, votes, schools, churches, the media, access to arms, parade routes, flags and emblems, and ‘ownership’ of particular districts in both urban and rural areas.”113 Are we guilty as charged? Should we be taken to sociological re-education camp and deprogrammed of ideationalist dispositions? O’Dowd is not alone in so suggesting. A large part of our work has been framed against left-wing illusions we might otherwise have been tempted to share, so perhaps we have misrepresented ourselves. The Politics of Antagonism stressed the origins of the recent conflict in colonialism, i.e. in conquest and dispossession. We wrote of the high truth content in socialist and nationalist narratives of centuries of foreign oppression. We wrote of the history of conflict over votes, land, and employment before and after the formation of Northern Ireland – supplying and analysing data. We narrated the history of material, institutional, and cultural discrimination – rooted in colonial and ethnonational differences.114 Explaining Northern Ireland treated each dimension in conflict and struggle that O’Dowd cites above, looking in particular at how each school of thought interpreted, emphasized, or downplayed such matters.115 We even played a role in the debate over the consequences of the moves toward parity in the demographic weight of Protestants and Catholics, and precisely made O’Dowd’s points that the violent conflict could be seen as a working-class conflict, and that the Protestant middle class was often cocooned from the costs of the conflict.116 We are not seeking credit for originality in these respects, but we are surprised that such work is not included in a summary of our positions. The criticism we might register as fair is our comparative neglect of the media, where our own research and

112

See p. 298 (both quotes). See p. 302. 114 O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, chs 2–4. 115 McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland. 116 McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, p. 88; O’Leary et al., Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority, p. 82. 113

384

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

appraisal of that of others was very limited – but this absence might be taken as odd for anti-materialists. What is taken to be our sustained anti-materialism is in fact our sustained anti-economism (whether in its Marxist or rational choice guises). We treated with severe scepticism efforts to reduce ethno-national conflict to class conflict, or economic rent-seeking. We were equally stringently critical of the truly ideationalist accounts, which accord explanatory primacy to religion, or to fiery cultures. By contrast, we have insisted on the explanatory primacy of ethno-national conflict, which we think was forged in a colonial encounter. The primacy of a causal variable, let us call it Xp, in grand explanation does not mean that all other variables (let us call them Xb … Xn) have no role to play in explanation; it just means that Xb … Xn are at most deemed secondary. That is what we said, we think. Interestingly, no one, apart from Rupert Taylor, directly contests the primacy thesis; instead they insist that other matters (other than ethno-national identities) are important, while avoiding saying that they are equally important, or, instead, they say (as Wilson does) that we have given in to ethno-nationalism. In Explaining Northern Ireland we suggested that explanations of and prescriptions for the conflict were linked, and that one decisive advantage of the ethno-national approach was that it highlighted the long-run importance of the British and Irish states in shaping the local communities in Northern Ireland without having the burdens of a specifically Marxist theory of imperialism, of the kind to which O’Dowd and his colleagues were once attracted.117 Which brings us to the British state, a very material presence in Northern Ireland, though now down to “normal” garrison levels in its deployment of soldiers. O’Dowd is right to emphasize the power, actual and latent, of the British state. It still writes the cheques, and this part of the present is not in our opening chapter, though it can be found in our original analyses of the 1998 Agreement. The UK Treasury’s officials are still inclined to encourage policy uniformity throughout the devolved governments – and sometimes such “parity,” especially in benefits in social-security provision, is highly prized by the devolved assemblies. Northern Ireland Office ministers and officials have yet to display significant policy variation from their counterparts elsewhere in the UK – and that may owe as much to Treasury power, and local civil-service deference, as it does to the alleged defects of a consociational executive. By confining our attention to the upsetting power of the doctrine of parliamentary sovereignty, we focused within our discipline’s typical ambit, but O’Dowd is absolutely right to emphasize the importance of the subvention and of the UK’s underwriting of Northern Ireland’s public sector (though these also put paid to standard Marxist political-economy accounts). The question is: How will UK financial power be deployed in future? It has just been used to sweeten the pill of power sharing for the DUP. We infer it is in 117

McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, particularly ch. 2.

Response

385

the current interests of the UK’s major parties to stabilize the 1998 and 2006 Agreements. But, the Tories’ interests in rejecting the Barnett formula and in emphasizing England’s fiscal interests, may have long-run consequences.118 Unionists and Northern Ireland nationalists have material reasons to fear an English-dominated government in Westminster, especially one that is less willing to pay for the messy compromises in each of the different devolutionary settlements. What we cannot foresee are the implications for consociation. A return to direct rule would not, we think, produce more fiscal generosity from London. We suspect that tough love from Whitehall will encourage nationalists and unionists to develop an independent inwardinvestment based strategy.

Rupert Taylor: sectarianism Rupert Taylor, like some others, maintains that the 1998 Agreement has produced greater social segregation and more violence. He thinks that the Agreement has not simply reinforced sectarian division but “perpetuated” it. He reports deteriorating community relations, that Catholics and Protestants are less likely to want to live in mixed neighbourhoods, the polarization of politics, the construction of more “peace walls,” and “increased paramilitary violence in the form of shootings, beatings and injuries.”119 Since we have already rebutted these arguments, we shall limit ourselves to two points. Taylor, like other critics, produces no convincing evidence that segregation has increased since the Agreement (and, of course, has failed to establish that any such increases can be blamed on the Agreement[s]). His claim that community relations are deteriorating and that Catholics and Protestants are more reluctant to live together, directly contradicts what he wrote in 2001, when he argued, in an attempt to underline the feasibility of social transformation, that support for integration was increasing.120 Taylor’s latest claim, that people are less likely to want to live together,121 is not the result of the most recent research. His source is a 2003 publication by Hughes and Donnelly. In fact, the latest Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey shows that support for residential integration has increased from 71 per cent in 1998 to 80 per cent in 2007.122 Taylor’s claim that violence has increased since the Agreement is based on another 2003 publication, this time by Robin Wilson. They both ignore the reduction in lethal violence and the high proportion of intra-bloc violence in 118

The Barnett formula is used by the Treasury to proportionately adjust public expenditure in Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland as against English public spending. 119 See p. 325. 120 R. Taylor (2001) “Northern Ireland: Consociation or social transformation?” in J. McGarry (ed.) Northern Ireland and the Divided World: Post-Agreement Northern Ireland in Comparative Perspective, Oxford, Oxford University Press, p. 43. 121 See p. 325. 122 Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey, www.ark.ac.uk/nilt/results/comrel.html#contact

386

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

the post-Agreement period, and pay no attention to our criticisms of Wilson’s research in our opening chapter. There has, in fact, been very significant progress made in non-lethal violence since 2003, which we have reported in Table 18.1 above. Taylor’s main argument, however, is novel, viz. that our focus on ethnonationalism and consociation does not adequately explain or describe “systemic sectarianism,” and the significant material inequalities between Catholics and Protestants, and what should be done about them. The “major lacuna” in our framework is that allegedly we do not confront the “reality” or “injustice” of systemic sectarianism. He argues that the Northern Ireland “problem” is better understood as “tied to the unjust structure of that society rather than the salience of ethno-nationalism per se,”123 and that the conflict, which broke out in the late 1960s, had a material trigger. He calls for social transformation and radical affirmative action for Catholics. Patten’s provisions for affirmative action for Catholic applicants to the police service are cited as a template. Taylor appears to draw inspiration from his adopted homeland in South Africa, which rejected consociation, at least as a long-term solution, but which has since experimented with affirmative action for black citizens. We are innocent of these charges. We have explained at length how material and sectarian inequalities emerged in what became Northern Ireland.124 They were directly rooted in the effects of settler colonialism, originating in the plantation of Ulster, and consolidated by the Cromwellian and Williamite settlements, the latter leading to the penal laws, and the eighteenth-century “Protestant ascendancy.” Some reforms in nineteenth-century Ireland overturned some of the legacies of the era of conquest and colonization, but communal inequalities were maintained by the discriminatory regime that governed Northern Ireland during the second Protestant ascendancy between 1921 and 1972. That regime discriminated in the public sector, and exhorted Protestant employers to discriminate in the private sector, though they needed little prompting. The UUP constructed what we called “hegemonic control” and “systematically organized domination.”125 The British direct-rule regime that followed it failed to tackle many key issues, at least until the Fair Employment Act of 1989. It is simply false for Taylor to claim that we thought the UK’s measures of the 1970s “largely addressed” inequality.126 Since Taylor relies on our writings for evidence for his 123

See p. 310. See O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, ch. 2; and O’Leary et al., Northern Ireland: Sharing Authority, pp. 8–10. 125 O’Leary and McGarry, The Politics of Antagonism, p. 133. Taylor knows this because he quotes it in his chapter. 126 O’Leary, then a policy adviser on Northern Ireland to the British Labour Party, played a very minor role in assisting Kevin McNamara and Labour’s front bench in strengthening the Fair Employment Act; the major and decisive role was played by our personal friend and (elsewhere) co-author Christopher McCrudden. 124

Response

387

argument that Northern Ireland has been a site of systemic sectarianism, it makes it odd that he should accuse us of downplaying these matters.127 We have explained, like many, the causes of material inequality and, equally, like many, called for the inequalities rooted in historic injustices to be addressed. But we also argued that the conflict was not only, or primarily, centred on inequalities, and that treating inequalities in isolation would not resolve conflict.128 Material and political inequalities, rooted in colonial origins, combined with nationalism and democratization to turn Catholics into Irish nationalists. After the Tories failed to kill home rule by kindness at the end of the nineteenth century, any political prescriptions for conflict over Ireland and Northern Ireland needed to be centrally, though not exclusively, focused on the national question. At no time have the IRA, or any of the major Irish nationalist political parties, been motivated exclusively or primarily by a desire to end material inequalities – though they protested against them and used them to delegitimize the Union. Nationalist politicians and paramilitaries emphasized national self-determination, political equality, and their hostility to being policed by the British state. When the Agreement delivered on these fronts, armed conflict ended. We supported Patten’s provisions for affirmative action; indeed, we argued for a more radical package.129 The main contribution of affirmative action in policing to stability is not that it has reduced inequality, though this is a welcome side benefit, but that it has delivered an increasingly representative, and therefore legitimate, police. Material inequalities in Northern Ireland remain, though by some measurements they have narrowed. They are by no means stark by comparative standards in ethnic conflicts (e.g. Palestine/Israel, South Africa, or Cyprus). We do not understand why Taylor thinks that consociation, which gives the representatives of Northern Ireland nationalists direct access to government, provides no answers to inequalities. He must, we presume, be assuming that the veto powers of the DUP will prevent further reforms. In fact, some reforms will occur through Westminster statutes, including Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act. Taylor also forgets that the DUP and Sinn Féin have a shared interest in public policies that improve the lot of the worst off, among whom their voters are concentrated. Consociation and existing reforms seem to us to be far more effective ways to combat the legacies of discrimination, in the short to medium term, than relying on Taylor’s proposed alternative of deliberation and social transformation. We recognize the need for proportionality, particularly in the public sector, for affirmative action to rectify past injustices, and for a ban on discrimination. (That is Taylor writes that “even McGarry and O’Leary recognize that the Fair Employment Act of 1976 … ‘proved a failure as a means of correcting employment disparities’” (p. 315, our italics). The word in italics is superfluous, and misleading, but suits Taylor’s claim that we downplayed the issue. 128 McGarry and O’Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland, ch. 7. 129 McGarry and O’Leary, Policing Northern Ireland, pp. 53–54. 127

388

John McGarry and Brendan O’Leary

required of liberal consociationalists.) Ideally, we think, that public policies to redress material inequalities should, in so far as it is possible, be based on difference-blind measures that benefit the underprivileged, irrespective of their community of origin. One of us last met Rupert Taylor for extended conversation at the Hegel Café in Berlin. The memory reminds us that we take our policies and analytical preferences from less idealist sources than our editor. But we thank him sincerely for presiding with exemplary professional impartiality over this symposium.

Index

Italicised numbers refer to tables and figures. accommodation, 16–18, 255, 256, 262, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 271, 273, 276–77, 278, 279, 280, 281, 295–96, 299, 307, 346, 362–63, 365, 378, 379 accountability, 77, 78–79, 169, 200 Ackerman, Bruce, 286, 287 Adams, Gerry, 15, 40, 180, 217, 228 Afghanistan, 9, 41, 219 Africa, 5, 6, 110 African Union, 366 Ahern, Bertie, 213, 307 Ahtisaari, Martti, 42 Ahtisaari proposal, 115 Algeria, 219 Allen, Tim, 223 Alliance Party (APNI), comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 135, 138, 139, 140, 141, 141, 144, 145; in Farry’s essay, 169, 174, 177, 178; in Kerr’s essay, 210; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 20, 21, 49, 66, 68–69, 74, 78, 339, 341, 352, 353, 354; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 154; in Taylor’s essay, 322; in Wilford’s essay, 185, 194; in Wilson’s essay, 222, 235 Almond, Gabriel, 3 alternative vote (AV), 22–23, 62–64, 66, 95, 126, 130–31, 132, 133, 134, 135, 143–44, 272, 273, 351–52 Anderson, James, 216 Anglo-Irish Agreement (1985), 32, 38–39, 43, 104–5, 154, 156, 209, 336, 337, 375 Anglo-Irish Free Trade Area Agreement (1965), 216

Annan Plan, 41, 115 APNI see Alliance Party Ardoyne, the, 54–55 ARK (Social and Political Archive), 371 Armstrong, Lord, 211 Ashby, Jacqueline, 317 Asia, 5 Assembly see Northern Ireland Assembly Australia, 358 Austria, 3, 5, 27, 29, 37, 124, 197, 235 autonomy: group, 29–30, 31, 122, 123–25, 143, 276, 347–50, 351; individual, 81, 91 AV see alternative vote Balibar, Étienne, 287, 379 Balkans, the, 42, 110 Ballynafeigh, 235 Baltic states, 110 Barnett formula, 385 Barry, Brian, 36, 310 Beck, Ulrich, 230 Belfast, 8, 53, 55, 101, 139, 194, 222, 228, 235, 300, 324, 325, 355 Belfast Agreement (also known as Good Friday Agreement) 1998, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 238, 239, 244, 245, 247; in Coakley’s essay, 122, 141–42, 145; in Farry’s essay, 165, 166, 167–68, 168–69, 170, 171–72, 176, 178; in Guelke’s essay, 99, 102–3, 104, 105, 106, 107; in Kerr’s essay, 207, 208–11, 212, 213, 214, 215, 218, 219, 220; in Little’s essay, 252, 253, 258, 259–62;

390

Index

in McGarry and O‘ Leary’s essays, 18–84, 333, 337–38, 339, 340, 341, 343, 348, 349, 352–53, 359, 363, 364, 365, 367, 368, 369, 370, 371, 375, 377, 379, 381–82, 384, 385, 387; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 147, 152, 153, 155, 157, 159–64; in Morison’s essay, 280, 281–82, 285, 286–88, 291–92, 293, 294; in O’Dowd’s essay, 295–308; in O’Flynn’s essay, 267, 268, 269, 271, 274; in O’Neill’s essay, 87, 90, 93, 94, 95, 96; in Steiner’s essay, 198, 200, 201, 204; in Taylor’s essays, 8, 9, 309, 315, 320, 321, 322–23, 324, 325, 328; in Wilford’s essay, 181, 182, 184; in Wilson’s essay, 222, 224, 226, 227, 228, 229, 235; in Wolff ’s essay, 110–13, 116, 121 Belfast Brigade, 101 Belgium, 3, 4, 5, 27, 29, 37, 110, 115, 118, 124, 136, 225, 344 see also Brussels Belmont, Katharine, 281 Benhabib, Seyla, 223 Bennett, Tony, 223 Bew, Lord Paul, 21 BIC see British-Irish Council B-IGC see British-Irish Governmental Conference bill of rights, 73, 74, 234, 321, 322, 328 Bingham Powell, G., 366 Blair, Tony, 39, 43, 182–83, 184, 213, 233 Blanket, The, 19 Bloody Sunday (1972), 314 Bloomer, Fiona, 223–24 Bloomfield, Sir Kenneth, 206, 211 Bogaards, Matthijs, 224, 225 Bosnia-Herzegovina, 7, 41, 108, 117, 118, 119, 121, 197, 205, 219, 236, 345, 366 Bosniaks, 118, 345 Bourdieu, Pierre, 249, 373, 375 Bougainville, 110, 114, 117, 118, 119, 121 Bourke, Richard, 257 Boyle, Kevin, 280 Brass, Paul, 225 Britain/United Kingdom, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 238, 240, 243, 249; in Coakley’s essay, 136; in Farry’s essay, 168, 169; in Guelke’s essay, 100, 101, 102–3, 104–5, 106, 107, 108, 109; in Kerr’s

essay, 207, 210, 214, 216, 217–18, 219; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 16, 19, 20, 23, 24, 31, 33, 34, 35–36, 38, 39, 40, 42–43, 44, 45, 46, 56, 58, 61, 62, 67, 68, 75, 84, 337, 338, 339, 357, 358, 367, 375, 382, 384–85, 386; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 160, 163; in Morison’s essay, 280, 282, 283, 291, 292, 293; in O’Dowd’s essay, 295, 297, 299–300, 304–5, 307; in Taylor’s essays, 8, 9, 313, 314, 315; in Wilford’s essay, 182, 190; in Wilson’s essay, 225, 229, 230, 235–36; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 113, 114 British-Irish Council (BIC), 32, 33, 83, 113, 180, 226, 238 British-Irish Governmental Conference (B-IGC), 32, 136, 238 British Journal of Political Science, 23 Brooke, Sir Basil, 240 Brooke, Peter, 100–101 Brooke talks, 338 Brown, Gordon, 44 Brún, Bairbre de, 186 Brussels, 115, 117, 118, 119, 121 Burke, Edmund, 195 Butler, Judith, 249, 373, 375 cabinet government, 357 Cairns, Ed, 374 Cameron Commission (1969), 313 Campaign for Social Justice, 313 Campbell, Colm, 284, 285 Campbell, Gregory, 192 Canada, 42, 103, 115, 282, 358, 381 Carrickfergus, 317 Cash, John, 362, 363; essay, 237–51; response to, 371–75 Castlereagh, 317 Catalans, 28, 29 Catholics, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 240; in Coakley’s essay, 124; in Guelke’s essay, 102, 103; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 20, 27, 31, 34, 51, 52, 65, 76, 340, 341–42, 348, 349, 370, 371, 383, 385, 386; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 159, 161–2, 163; in O’Dowd’s essay, 295, 303; in Taylor’s essays, 8, 311, 312–13, 316–19, 319, 323, 324, 325, 327; in Wilson’s essay, 224, 227, 233 Caucasus, 110

Index centripetalists/centripetalism, 17, 22–23, 50, 57, 59, 75, 76, 78, 81; and ethnic party systems, 148, 149–51 Chandra, Kanchan, 149–50 Channel Islands, 113; see also Jersey; Guernsey Churchill, Winston, 219–20 Cinalli, Manlio, 235 City of London bombings (1992 and 1993), 101, 337 civic associations, 67–68, 227–28 Civic Forum, 75, 348, 349 civic involvement, 78, 82 civic unionist criticisms, 20 civil rights movement, 313–15 class issues, 82–83, 96–97, 259, 303, 377–78, 383–84 Clinton, President Bill, 39–41, 197 Coakley, John, 340, 382; essay, 122–45; response to, 347–52 Code and Pledge of Office, 195 Cold War, 41; end of, 39, 208, 218, 367 Colombia, 205 Committee for the Administration of Justice, 324, 325 Committee of the Centre, 112 communal division: cost of, 172–74; material dimension, 302–3; see also sectarianism complexity paradigm, 252–63, 376, 377 “complex power sharing,” 110–21, 344, 345–46 Comprehensive Agreement (Northern Ireland, 2004), 169 Comprehensive Peace Agreement (Sudan, 2005), 115 Conflict Transformation Initiative (CTI), 177, 195 consent principle, 56, 102–3, 113, 160 Conservative Party, 16 Constantine, Tom, 42 Constitutional Convention, 138 constitutional law theory, 279–94, 379–82 “constitutional moment,” 286–87 contact hypothesis, 374 Continuity IRA, 19, 53 Cory, Justice Peter, 42 Cosgrave, Liam, 210, 213, 226–27 Coulter, Colin, 303 Council of Ireland, 226–27 Council of Europe, 233, 283; Parliamentary Assembly, 221–22 Covello, Vincent, 317

391

Craig, William, 211 Crick, Bernard, 210 Crimea, 110, 114, 117, 118, 119, 121 critical social theory, 88–91 Croatia, 119 Croats, 118, 119 CTI see Conflict Transformation Initiative Cyprus, 4, 41, 70, 108, 115, 136, 205, 366, 387 Dáil Éireann, 113 Dayton Agreement/Accords, 7, 41 de Chastelain, John, 42 decommissioning, 35, 45–46, 52, 55, 56, 58, 105, 106, 107, 157, 163, 168, 337, 339 Deleuze, Giles, 379 deliberation, 201–4, 205, 328–29, 364–65 Deloitte Touche, 174 demilitarization, 45, 46, 54, 58, 93 democracy, 3, 15–18, 78, 80, 81, 219–20, 253, 264–65, 266, 270, 274; achieving in Northern Ireland (O’Neill’s essay), 87–98; consociational, 3–4, 5–6, 7, 9, 10, 29, 80–81, 81–82, 123, 125; and liberalism, 255–58; and violence and security, 258–59 Democratic Dialogue survey (2003), 317 Democratic Left, 20, 21 Democratic Party (US), 16 democratic qualities, 76–83, 200 Democratic Unionist Party see DUP demographic change, 102, 340–43 departmental design, 184–86 Department of Education, 189, 192 Department for Enterprise, Trade and Investment (DETI), 186 Department of Environment, 186 Department of Health, Social Services and Personal Safety, 189, 192 Department for Regional Development (DRD), 186, 189 Deputy First Minister (DFM), comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 123, 135, 141–42, 145; in Farry’s essay, 166, 170, 176; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 50–51, 55, 61, 71, 72, 80, 352; in Steiner’s essay, 199; in Wilford’s essay, 188, 191; in Wolff ’s essay, 112; see also names of individuals Derrida, Jacques, 263, 377

392

Index

Derry, 8, 240, 314 DETI (Department for Enterprise, Trade and Investment), 186 DFM see Deputy First Minister d’Hondt system, comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 127, 128, 129, 130, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 141, 143, 145; in Farry’s essay, 169, 170, 176; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 58, 59, 60, 61, 71, 72, 74, 75, 77, 79, 80, 333, 338, 354, 359, 360, 361, 362, 368, 379; in O’Flynn’s essay, 274, 275–76; in Wilford’s essay, 180, 185, 186; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 112 discourse theory, 376–77 discrimination, 311–12, 313, 315, 322, 387 see also inequality “disjunctive synthesis,” 263 Dixon, Paul, 69, 78, 208–9, 210 Dodds, Nigel, 189 Donaldson, Denis, 336 Downs, Anthony, 149 DRD (Department for Regional Development), 186, 189 Drumcree, 325 Duisberg, 220 DUP (Democratic Unionist Party), comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 244, 248; in Coakley’s essay, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 135, 138, 139, 140, 141, 141, 142, 145; in Farry’s essay, 165–66, 168, 169, 172, 175, 177, 178; in Guelke’s essay, 107; in Kerr’s essay, 211, 212, 213, 214, 216, 218; in Little’s essay, 261; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 19, 23, 42, 43–44, 46, 49, 50, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 65, 66, 80, 341, 353, 354, 362, 364, 367–68, 369, 370, 375, 379, 384, 387; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 153–54, 154, 155–57, 158, 160, 161–2, 163, 164; in Morison’s essay, 279; in O’Dowd’s essay, 301, 305; in O’Flynn’s essay, 272, 276; in Taylor’s essays, 9, 321, 322, 326; in Wilford’s essay, 180, 181, 188–90, 191, 192, 193–94, 195; in Wilson’s essay, 232, 233 Durkan, Mark, 176, 182, 185, 186, 188, 189, 192, 193, 212, 360, 370 Dylan, Bob: “Idiot Wind,” 15

Eade, John, 223 East-West Inter-Parliamentary Framework, 113 economy, 173–74, 356 Edwards, Ruth Dudley, 211–12 Eide, Asbjørn, 231 elections and election results, 49, 64, 65–66, 67, 74, 82, 154, 154–55, 156–57, 157–59, 164, 169, 173, 213, 214–15, 321, 341, 352 electoral systems, 8, 16, 17, 22–23, 62–64, 66, 74, 78, 80–81, 82, 95, 122, 125–35, 143–44, 151–52, 172–73, 271–73, 320–21, 351–52 Elliott, Sydney, 137–38 emancipation/emancipationists, 21, 66, 90, 334–35 Empey, Sir Reg, 186, 189, 195, 232 EPFs (Executive programme funds), 192–93 equality, 314, 315, 321, 322–24, 327, 334–35, 348–49 Equality Commission of Northern Ireland, 74–75, 323–24 essentialism, 223 ethnicity, 4, 10, 28–29, 36, 69, 223, 374; see also ethnic party competition; ethno-nationalism ethnic party competition, 146–64 ethno-nationalism, 310, 319, 320, 321–22, 384, 386; see also ethnicity; nationality issues EU see European Union European Community, 216, 238, 243–44, 282 European Convention on Human Rights, 74, 283 European Court of Human Rights, 42, 283 European Court of Justice, 282, 382 European parliament, 156, 307 European Union (EU), 36, 41, 108, 119, 207, 216, 250, 268, 282, 292, 293, 306, 307, 343, 364, 366, 380 Evans, Geoffrey, 57, 364, 368; essay (with Paul Mitchell), 146–64; response to, 352 Executive see Northern Ireland Executive executive formation, 273–76 exclusivism, 242–43, 247, 248, 249 Executive programme funds (EPFs), 192–93 external constitutional norms, 281–83 external intervention, 37–44, 197–98, 206–7, 281–82, 367, 375

Index Factortame case, 282 Fair Employment Act 1976, 315 Fair Employment Act 1989, 315, 316, 323, 386 Fair Employment Agency (FEA), 315 Fair Employment Commission, 315 fairness, 69–76, 199–200 FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia), 53 Farren, Sean, 185, 189, 220 Farry, Stephen, 333, 339, 340, 352, 368, 269; essay, 165–79; response to, 352–56 Faulkner, Brian, 137, 210, 211, 212, 213, 220, 226–27 FEA (Fair Employment Agency), 315 Fianna Fáil, 307 Fiji, 62–63, 130, 134, 144 financial costs, 173–74 Fine Gael-Labour coalition government, 210 Finland, 282, 380 First Minister (FM), comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 123, 135, 141–42, 145; in Farry’s essay, 166, 170, 176; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 50–51, 55, 61, 71, 72, 80, 352; in Steiner’s essay, 199; in Wilford’s essay, 188, 191; in Wolff ’s essay, 111–12; see also names of individuals FitzGerald, Garret, 211 FM see First Minister Fordham International Law Review, 284 Foreign Affairs, 71 Foster, Sam, 191 Foucault, Michel, 289, 290, 379 Fraenkel, Jon, 62, 64, 66 Framework Documents (1995), 9, 23, 337 France, 19, 380 Francovich case, 282 Frankfurt school, 381 Freedom of Information Act, 222 Freedom Party (Austria), 235 Free Presbyterian Church, 212 French Communist Party, 152 Freud, Sigmund, 248–49, 373, 374, 375 Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA), 67, 194, 228, 250, 325 Gagauzia, 110, 117, 119, 121 Gallagher index, 129 gender issues, 82–83, 96–97, 259, 377–78 Germany, 380

393

Gerring, John, 2 Giddens, Anthony, 228, 249, 373, 375 Gini coefficient, 324 Good Friday Agreement (1998) see Belfast Agreement Goodin, Robert, 201 Gore, Al, 183 governmentality approach, 289 Government of Ireland Act 1920, 34, 76, 136 Great Lakes region, 110 Greysteel, 228 Grofman, Bernard, 62, 64, 66 group autonomy see autonomy groups: and fairness, 69–76, 199; and individual liberalism, 91, 92, 93–94, 95, 97; and recognition theoretical model, 92–93, 94 Guelke, Adrian, 219; essay, 99–109; response to, 335–43 Guernsey, 33 Gurr, Ted, 366 Habermas, Jürgen, 89, 201, 202, 203, 204, 379, 380–81 Hadden, Tom, 67–68, 280 Hain, Peter, 43, 44, 217 Halpern, Sue, 6, 224 Harbison, Jeremy, 174 Hare quota, 140, 141 Hari, Jonathan, 48 Harrington, James, 18–19 Haughey, Denis, 187, 188 Hazelwood integrated school, 355, 356, 368, 369 Heath, Edward, 213, 217–18 Hegel, G. W. F., 334 Held, David, 230–31 Hermon, Sylvia, 213 Heskin, Ken, 374 Hewstone, Miles, 374 Hobbes, Thomas, 219 Holy Cross Primary School, Belfast, 325 Honneth, Axel, 89 Hood, Christopher, 183 Horowitz, Donald L., comments and discussions about ideas of: in Coakley’s essay, 126, 130, 132, 134, 143, 144; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 22, 25, 47, 48, 60, 61, 62–63, 64, 70, 76, 77, 80, 81, 344, 351; in O’Flynn’s essay, 268–69 House of Commons, 39

394

Index

Housing Executive, 324 Hume, John, 40, 104–5, 137, 211, 212, 228 Hungary, 197 Hunt, Murray, 293 Hutchinson, Al, 42 identity issues, 170–71, 178–79, 223–24, 248–49, 250, 251, 266–68, 296; see also nationality issues IL see individualist liberalism IMC see Independent Monitoring Commission inclusion of radicals, 59–61 inclusivism, 243, 247, 249 Independent Consultative Forum, 113 Independent Monitoring Commission (IMC), 42, 46, 194 India, 110, 150, 225, 228 individualist liberalism, 90–91, 91–92, 93–94, 95–96, 97, 98 inequality, 311, 312–13, 316–19, 323, 324, 326, 386–87; see also discrimination injustice, 309–29 Institute for Conflict Research, 325 integration/integrationists, 15–16, 17, 18–21, 22, 26, 37, 57–58, 64–65, 66, 68, 69–70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 83, 122, 123, 166, 208, 209, 215, 229–30, 242, 248, 250, 255, 262, 264–78, 279, 280, 296, 297, 298, 327, 346–47, 369, 374, 378, 385 interculturalism, 221, 230–31, 370 International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance, 284 Investment Strategy for Northern Ireland, 175 IRA (Irish Republican Army), comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 246; in Farry’s essay, 165, 169; in Guelke’s essay, 100–102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107; in Kerr’s essay, 212–13, 217, 218; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 40, 42, 44, 45, 46, 53, 54, 55, 64, 336–37, 338, 339, 340, 387; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 154, 155, 157; in Taylor’s essays, 9, 314; in Wilford’s essay, 180, 193, 194; in Wilson’s essay, 228 Iran, 216 Iraq, 9, 10, 28, 41, 115, 148, 197, 201, 218, 219, 366; 2005 Constitution, 10, 115

Ireland, Republic of, comments and discussions about: in Cash’s essay, 237, 238, 243–44, 249; in Coakley’s essay, 127, 144; in Farry’s essay, 168, 169, 173; in Guelke’s essay, 104–5, 106–7, 108, 109; in Kerr’s essay, 207, 216, 217, 218, 219; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 23, 24, 35, 36, 38, 39, 42, 43, 44, 58, 60, 61, 64, 68, 337, 339, 342–43, 367, 375; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 163; in Morison’s essay, 280, 282; in O’Dowd’s essay, 303, 306, 307; in Steiner’s essay, 197, 200; in Taylor’s essay, 9; in Wilford’s essay, 185; in Wilson’s essay, 226–27; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 113, 116 Irish Americans, 40 Irish News, 228 Irish Times, 370 Irish Republican Army see IRA Isle of Man, 33, 113 Israel, 127, 216 Jarman, Neil, 222, 325, 355–56 Jefferson, Thomas, 18–19 Jenkins, Richard, 323 Jersey, 33 joined-up government (JUG), 181, 182–84, 187–88, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 357, 358, 359, 360 Joint Declaration (2003), 42, 46, 47 Joppke, Christian, 223 JUG see joined-up government Kant, Immanuel, 18–19 Kedar, Orit, 151–52 Kenya, 5, 9 Kerr, Michael, 364; essay, 206–20; response to, 367–68 Klare, Karl, 284–85 Klein, Melanie, 248–49, 373, 375 Kosovo, 9, 115, 197, 205 Kurdistan, 197 Kurds, 28, 197 Labour, 16, 20, 103, 139, 155, 213, 217–18 Laclau, Ernesto, 377 Lake, Anthony, 39 Laponce, Jean, 130 Latin America, 5, 380 Lavau, Georges, 152 Laws, Sir John, 293

Index Lebanon, 4, 6, 34, 38, 70, 207, 210, 215–16, 219, 366; National Pact (1943), 5, 38 Leeds Castle, 169 legislative procedures, 34 Legislative Programme, 177, 178 Leibniz, G. W., 335 Lemarchand, René, 1–2 liberalism, 90–97, 255–58, 334 Libya, 102 Lijphart, Arend, comments and discussion about ideas of: in Coakley’s essay, 123, 124, 125, 126; in Farry’s essay, 167; in Kerr’s essay, 206; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 23, 24, 26–30, 31, 37–38, 80, 347, 351, 362–63, 366, 378; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 146; in Steiner’s essay, 196, 200, 201; in Taylor’s essays, 1, 2, 3–5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 310; in Wilford’s essay, 184; in Wilson’s essay, 224–25, 225–26 Little, Adrian: essay, 252–63; response to, 376–78 Livingstone, Stephen, 283 local authorities, 139–40 London bombings (1992 and 1993), 101, 337 Loyalty Survey (1968), 317 Lukes, Steven, 223 Lustick, Ian, 6–7, 24, 368 McCartney, Robert, 20, 58, 100, 213 Machiavelli, Niccolò, 18–19 McCrudden, Christopher, 280–81, 283, 322, 348 Macedonia, 41, 115, 236, 366 McGarry, John, and O’Leary, Brendan, 9–10, 11; argument, 15–84; commentaries on, 85–329; response, 333–88 McGimpsey, Michael, 189, 190 McGuinness, Martin, 99, 165, 170, 180, 195, 212, 218, 301, 360 Mackenzie, W. J. M., 125 McLean, Iain, 20 McShane, Roy, 336 McVeigh, Robbie, 326 Madden, Peter, 314 Madison, James, 269 Major, John, 39, 184 Malabotta, Melita, 230 Malaysia, 4

395

Mallon, Séamus, 182, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 212, 252, 360, 370 Manchester, 337 Mandelson, Peter, 35, 36, 42, 43, 46, 105, 106, 339 Marx, Karl, 223 Marxism, 319, 326, 382, 383, 384 material dimension, 296, 302–6, 383 Meyer, Roelf, 107 Middle East, 110 see also names of countries Mindanao, 110, 117, 118, 119, 121, 345 minorities, 16, 17–18, 28–29, 30 Minority Rights Group, 222 Mitchell, Senator George, 15, 39–40, 105, 107, 197; Mitchell Review, 105–6, 107 Mitchell, Paul, 57, 368; essay (with Geoffrey Evans), 146–64; response to, 352 MLAs, 71, 72, 73, 79, 80, 140, 142, 175–76, 194 Moldova, 117, 118 Moloney, Ed, 101, 336 Morison, John: essay, 279–94; response to, 379–82 Morrison delegation, 39 Mowlam, Mo, 106 multiculturalism, 16, 230 Murphy, Paul, 43 Murtagh, Brendan, 235, 250–51, 318–19 Myers, Kevin, 50 National Accord and Reconciliation Act 2008 (Kenya), 5 Nationalist Party (Northern Ireland), 144 nationality issues, 25–37, 146, 197, 209–10, 223, 297–99; see also ethno-nationalism National Party (South Africa), 107 Nesbitt, Dermot, 188 Netherlands, The, 3, 5, 27, 29, 31, 34, 37, 124, 127, 200, 207, 365 new constitutionalism, 283 News Letter, 228 New Ulster Movement, 235 Ní Aoláin, Fionnuala, 284, 285 Nic Craith, Máiréad, 322 NIO see Northern Ireland Office NIUP (Northern Ireland Unionist Party), 20 Nobel Peace Prize, 153

396

Index

Norris, Pippa, 366 North Atlantic Treaty Organization, 41 Northern Bank robbery (2004), 100, 169 Northern Ireland Act 1998, 74, 190, 280, 294, 323, 348, 359, 361, 387 Northern Ireland Act 2000 (the “Suspension” Act), 35–36, 43, 46, 291, 292 Northern Ireland (St Andrews Agreement) Act 2006, 294 Northern Ireland Assembly, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 238, 239, 247, 250; in Coakley’s essay, 131, 132, 137–38, 142; in Farry’s essay, 166–67, 168, 169, 170, 175–76, 177; in Guelke’s essay, 105, 106, 107, 108; in Kerr’s essay, 214, 217; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 32, 34, 44, 49, 54, 55, 56, 71, 73–74, 77, 78–79, 80, 82, 338, 348, 361, 364; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 157, 158, 159, 160; in O’Dowd’s essay, 304, 307; in O’Flynn’s essay, 274, 276; in O’Neill’s essay, 94–95, 97; in Taylor’s essay, 320, 321, 322; in Wilford’s essay, 180, 193; in Wilson’s essay, 222, 232; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 112, 113 Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association, 313 Northern Ireland Civil Service, 185, 304–5 Northern Ireland Constitution Act 1973, 137 Northern Ireland Convention, 210 Northern Ireland Election Study, 159 Northern Ireland Executive, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 247, 250; in Coakley’s essay, 138, 140–41, 141; in Farry’s essay, 166–67, 168, 169–70, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179; in Guelke’s essay, 105; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 34, 48, 56, 58, 60, 61, 74, 77, 79, 80, 82, 353, 357, 359; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 152; in O’Dowd’s essay, 301, 304, 305, 307; in O’Flynn’s essay, 273–74; in O’Neill’s essay, 95; in Taylor’s essay, 320, 325–26; in Wilford’s essay, 180–95; in Wilson’s essay, 232–33; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 112, 113 Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission, 74, 322, 348

Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey, 229, 233, 371, 385 Northern Ireland Office (NIO), 137, 195, 210, 355, 356, 384 Northern Ireland Unionist Party (NIUP), 20 Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition, 20, 49, 185 North-South Ministerial Council (NSMC), 32, 113, 163, 180, 226, 238, 307 North-South Parliamentary Forum, 113 NSMC see North-South Ministerial Council Oberschall, Anthony, 49 O’Brien, Martin, 324 O’Callaghan, Sean, 336 O’Dowd, Liam, 333; essay, 295–308; response to, 382–85 Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister see OFMDFM Official Unionists, 210, 307 O’Flynn, Ian, 21, 69, 70, 77, 205, 333, 346, 368, 369; essay, 264–78; response to, 378–79 OFMDFM (Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister), 174, 184, 185, 186, 187–88, 190, 191, 193 Ohrid Agreement (2001), 115 O’Leary, Brendan, and McGarry, John, 9–10, 11; argument, 15–84; commentaries on, 85–329; response, 333–88 Omagh bombing (1998), 51, 53 O’Malley, Padraig, 48 O’Neill, Shane, 364, 381; essay, 87–98; response to, 334–35 opposition, 77, 78, 79–80, 144, 200 Opsahl Commission, 365 Orange Order, 67, 194, 228, 250, 325 Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe, 233, 366 Page, Ed, 184 Paisley, Rev. Ian, 15, 43–44, 55, 58, 99, 137, 165, 170, 180, 212, 214, 215, 217, 218, 244, 245–46, 301, 307, 360, 364, 375 Palestinian-Israeli conflict, 38, 387 Palestinian nationalists, 216 Palley, Claire, 130 Palmer, Kendall, 49 Pappalardo, Adriano, 224

Index Papua New Guinea, 119 Parliament Buildings, 180, 182, 188 partition, 295, 313 path dependence, 254–55, 257, 260, 262–63, 377 Patten Commission/Report, 33–34, 35, 46, 105–6, 227, 338, 339, 369, 370, 386 Patterson, Henry, 21 Pauley, Mervyn, 245, 246 Peace Forum (1996), 54 peace process, 87–88, 99–109, 165, 228 peace walls, 172, 194, 222, 355–56, 368, 369, 385 PfG see Programme for Government Philippines, 119, 121, 345 Phoenix, Ian, 101 Pierson, Paul, 377 plurality system, 131–32, 133, 134, 135, 143 plural society theory, 3, 4 pluri-national places, 25–37 polarization, 48, 55–59, 172–73, 300 Police Act (Northern Ireland) 2000, 46 Police Act (Northern Ireland) 2003, 46 police reform, 33–34, 45, 46, 58, 105–6, 168, 338–39 Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI), 33–34, 50, 55, 227, 323 Policing Bill, 106, 338, 339 Policing Board, 46 political culture, 237–51, 363, 372 political instability, 49 political parties, integrationist views on, 268–71 Portugal, 380 post-structuralism, 376–77 PR see proportional representation Preparation for Government Committee, 181 Preuss, Ulrich, 379 prime ministerial government, 358 Programme for Government (PfG), 112, 175, 177, 178, 190–91, 192, 194, 232–33 Programme for Government Committee, 181 proportionality, 123, 125–26, 127, 128–29, 135, 137–38, 144, 167, 350, 351, 354 proportional representation (PR), 8, 16, 17, 22, 54, 62, 80–81, 82, 126–30, 136–37, 139, 140, 151–52, 166–67, 271, 272, 320–21, 351, 359, 360

397

Protestant Unionist Party, 137 Protestants, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 240; in Coakley’s essay, 124; in Guelke’s essay, 102, 103; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 27, 31, 34, 34, 51, 52, 76, 340, 342, 343, 348, 349, 370, 371, 383, 385, 386; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 159, 160, 161–2, 163; in O’Dowd’s essay, 295, 303; in Taylor’s essays, 8, 311, 312–13, 315, 316, 317, 318, 319, 319, 323, 324, 325, 327; in Wilson’s essay, 224, 227, 233 Provisional IRA see IRA PSNI see Police Service of Northern Ireland public identity, 266–68, 378 public opinion, 159–64 Quebec, 28, 103, 110 Queen’s University Belfast, 137 Quinn, Paul, 108, 194 Rabushka, Alvin, 148, 149 Ramaphosa, Cyril, 42 Rancière, Jacques, 258 Rawls, John, 269–70 Reagan, President Ronald, 39 Real IRA, 19, 51, 53 realistic group-conflict theory, 374–75 recognition theoretical model of democracy (RT), 90, 91, 92–93, 94 Rees, Merlyn, 218 referendums, 32–33, 82, 102, 107, 113, 200, 364 Reid, John, 43 Reilly, Benjamin, 22 republican criticism, 18–20 Republican Party (US), 16 Republican Sinn Féin, 19, 50, 75 restructuration, 244–48 Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia (FARC), 53 Reynolds, Andrew, 22 Ritchie, Margaret, 177, 195, 214, 232, 233 Robinson, Peter, 181, 186, 189, 192, 195, 233, 305, 360 Rogers, Bríd, 188, 191 Rolston, Bill, 305 Romania, 110, 197 Rome, ancient, 57, 152 Rose, Richard, 159–60, 210, 311, 317, 329

398

Index

Rothstein, Bo, 230 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 18–19, 266 Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC), 33 RT see recognition theoretical model of democracy Ruane, Caitriona, 195 Ruane, Joseph, 21, 254–55, 261, 262, 302, 377 RUC (Royal Ulster Constabulary), 33 Russell, David, 265 Russian Federation, 115 Rwanda, 9, 108 St Andrews Agreement (2006), comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 142; in Farry’s essay, 169, 170, 177; in Guelke’s essay, 103, 104, 105, 107; in Kerr’s essay, 211; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 34, 58, 61–62, 72, 77, 79, 338, 343, 352, 359, 364, 371, 375, 379, 382, 385; in O’Dowd’s essay, 300; in Taylor’s essay, 8; in Wilford’s essay, 180, 181, 193, 194, 195; in Wilson’s essay, 233; in Wolff ’s essay, 111, 112, 113 Sainte-Laguë system, 74, 127, 128, 128–29, 129–30, 132, 137, 139, 140, 141, 141, 143, 354 Sartori, Giovani, 231 Scappaticci, Alfredo, 336 Schmitt, Carl, 237, 240, 241, 372 Scotland, 33, 103, 113, 114 Scots, 29 Scottish National Party, 103 SDLP (Social Democratic and Labour Party), comments and discussion about: in Coakley’s essay, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 144; in Farry’s essay, 168, 169, 172, 174, 177, 178; in Guelke’s essay, 104; in Kerr’s essay, 210, 214; in Little’s essay, 252; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 23, 32, 40, 49, 54, 55, 56, 59, 60, 64, 68, 72, 79, 80, 337–38, 340, 353, 362, 369–70; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 153, 154, 154–55, 158, 159, 161–2, 163; in O’Dowd’s essay, 307; in O’Flynn’s essay, 272; in Taylor’s essay, 321, 322; in Wilford’s essay, 181–82, 184, 185, 186, 191, 195; in Wilson’s essay, 232 Secretary of State, 102, 136, 137, 181; see also names of individuals

sectarianism, 8, 10, 21, 48–49, 95, 310–11, 312–20, 321, 322, 323, 324–25, 326, 327, 329, 371, 385–88 security, 45–47, 198, 258–59, 334, 366, 367 segregationists, 208–9 Serbia, 197 Serbs, 115, 197 Shankill, 228 Shared Future, A, 174, 222, 231, 326 Shepsle, Kenneth, 148, 149 Shirlow, Peter, 55, 235, 250–51, 318–19 Short Brothers, 317 Short Strand-Cluan Place interface, Belfast, 325 Simonsen, Sven Gunnar, 7 Simpson, Vivian, 137 single transferable vote (STV), 8, 22, 64, 80, 112, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 134, 135, 137, 143, 272, 273, 320–21, 351, 353 Sinn Féin, comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 245, 246, 248; in Coakley’s essay, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 139, 140, 141, 142, 145; in Farry’s essay, 165–66, 168, 169, 172, 173, 175, 177, 178; in Guelke’s essay, 100, 105, 107, 108; in Kerr’s essay, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 217, 218; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 19, 23, 35, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 49, 50, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60–61, 62, 64, 65, 66, 76, 77, 80, 335, 336–37, 339, 340, 352, 353, 354, 361, 362, 363, 364, 368, 369, 370, 379, 387; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 153–54, 154, 155, 157, 158–59, 160, 161–2, 163, 164; in Morison’s essay, 279; in O’Dowd’s essay, 301, 307; in O’Flynn’s essay, 272, 276; in Taylor’s essays, 9, 321, 322, 326; in Wilford’s essay, 185, 186, 189, 192, 193, 194, 195; in Wilson’s essay, 232 Slovakia, 110, 197 Smith, Howard, 210 Smith, Jack, 137 Social and Political Archive (ARK), 371 Social Democratic and Labour Party see SDLP Social Exclusion Unit, 183 social transformation see transformation/transformers Solomon Islands, 119

Index South Africa, 4–5, 6, 34, 69, 72, 107, 130, 205, 225, 282, 338, 359, 386, 387 South Ossetia, 115 South Tyrol, 115, 117, 118, 119, 121, 197 Soviet Union, 216 Spain, 126 Special Branch, 101 “spirit of accommodation,” 196–205, 362–65 Sri Lanka, 9, 110, 115, 130, 144, 148, 351–52 stability, 47–69, 165–66, 198–99 Stears, Marc, 7 Steiner, Jürg, 328, 368, 371, 379; essay, 196–205; response to, 362–67 structuration theory, 373 STV see single transferable vote Sudan, 9, 110, 115 Sunningdale Agreement and experiment (1973–74), 8, 23, 31, 59, 61, 105, 206, 209, 210, 211, 213, 214, 217, 218, 220, 252, 253, 276, 353, 368, 370 suspension of institutions, 35, 36, 43, 46, 104, 105, 106, 338, 339 Switzerland, 3, 4, 5, 27, 29, 30, 37, 115, 124, 126, 136, 197, 199–200, 207, 225, 364, 365; Federal Council, 3, 199–200, 364 Syria, 216 Taylor, Rupert, 21, 48, 49, 55, 68, 69, 75, 77, 78, 223, 307, 333, 340, 342, 368, 371, 384; essays, 1–11, 309–29; response to, 385–88 territorial pluralism, 16, 17 terror-management theory, 375 Thatcher, Margaret, 38–39, 100 32 County Sovereignty Movement, 19 Thoburn v. Sunderland City Council, 293 Todd, Jennifer, 21, 254–55, 261, 262, 302, 377 Tomlinson, Mike, 305 Tonge, Jonathan, 324–25 transformation/transformers, 20–21, 22, 66–67, 68, 69, 75, 78, 82, 83, 90, 97, 326–29 transitional justice, 283–85, 379 Treasury, 304, 357, 358, 384 Trentino, 117, 119 tribune parties, 57, 59, 151–53, 154, 157, 173, 272, 352

399

Trimble, David, 35, 41, 46, 58, 59, 101, 105, 106, 157, 176, 181–82, 185, 187, 188, 190, 192, 211, 212, 213, 215, 220, 248, 326, 339, 360, 370, 375 TUAS, 40 Tully, James, 379, 381 Turkey, 19, 197, 205 Tyrol, 119 see also South Tyrol UDA see Ulster Defence Association UDP (Ulster Democratic Party), 62 Ukraine, 205 UKUP (United Kingdom Unionist Party), 20, 58, 75, 127 Ulster Defence Association (UDA), 53, 138, 177, 195, 228, 232 Ulster Democratic Party (UDP), 62 Ulster Unionist Party see UUP Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), 53, 193 Ulster Workers’ Council, 206 Unger, Roberto, 281, 379, 380 United Kingdom (UK) see Britain/ United Kingdom United Kingdom Unionist Party see UKUP United Nations, 9, 41, 53, 234, 366 United States, 16, 38–41, 42, 168, 197, 207, 216, 218, 225, 238, 243–44, 249–50, 282, 286, 306, 307, 380, 381 United Ulster Unionist Council, 217 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, 221 Urry, John, 261–62 UUP (Ulster Unionist Party), comments and discussion about: in Cash’s essay, 248; in Coakley’s essay, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 135, 137, 138, 140, 141, 141, 142; in Farry’s essay, 168, 172, 174, 177, 178; in Guelke’s essay, 105, 106; in Kerr’s essay, 213, 214; in McGarry and O’Leary’s essays, 23, 35, 39, 41, 46, 49, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 65, 72, 79, 80, 338, 339, 340, 341, 353, 362, 363, 369–70, 375, 386; in Mitchell and Evans’s essay, 153, 154, 156–57, 158, 161–2, 163, 164; in O’Dowd’s essay, 307; in O’Flynn’s essay, 272; in Taylor’s essay, 321, 322, 326; in Wilford’s essay, 181–82, 184–85, 186, 193, 195; in Wilson’s essay, 232 UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force), 53, 193

400

Index

Vanguard Party, 211 van Schendelen, M. P. C. M., 224 Varshney, Ashutosh, 228 Venice Commission, 236 violence, 48, 51–54, 100, 101, 168, 228–29, 250–51, 258–59, 325, 336, 368–69, 370, 385–86 Voltaire, 99, 335 Wales, 33, 113, 114 Weale, Albert, 268 Weber, Max, 201 Weinreich, Peter, 223–24 Westminster, 35, 36, 38, 39, 49, 142, 155, 156, 213, 238, 282, 307, 323, 385 Westminster model, 31, 74, 77, 80, 144, 225, 357–58, 359, 360, 372, 380 White House, 39, 40, 197 Whitelaw, William, 210, 211, 217–18 Whyte, John, 68, 137, 145, 235, 311, 312

Wilford, Rick, 48, 69, 75–76, 77, 275, 300–301, 333, 340, 351, 355, 368, 369, 379; essay, 180–95; response to, 357–62 Wilson, Harold, 213, 218 Wilson, Robin, 21, 48, 53, 69, 75–76, 77, 78, 275, 300–301, 334, 340, 351, 355, 365, 371, 379, 385, 386; essay, 221–36; response to, 368–71 Wolff, Stefan: essay, 110–21; response to, 343–47 Workers Party, 68 World Politics, 3, 6 Yesnowitz, Joshua, 2 Young, Iris Marion, 89 Yugoslovia, former, 115, 148 Žižek, Slavoj, 263