I thank the Chair. It is a great pleasure to meet with the committee today. I am only sorry I cannot be with you live in Dublin rather than appearing via video. It was kind of the Chair to invite me to make an opening statement. It will take a little while, but I hope it may answer a number of the questions that would otherwise be asked.
Let me make clear, as I did before I accepted the invitation, I was only involved in the work that led up to the Good Friday Agreement. The negotiation of the agreement was undertaken after I left government. Others are better placed to respond to that than I am.
Let me go right back to the beginning. When I became Prime Minister in November 1990, I had little or no background in Northern Ireland issues. As a result, the first question is, perhaps, why did I become so concerned about what we loosely call the Troubles? The answer is simple. Life in Northern Ireland over the previous 25 years had never been free from terror and, to me, violence was as unacceptable there as it would have been anywhere else in the UK. It was for this reason, that, between 1990 and 1997, I visited Northern Ireland more often than any other location, either in the UK or overseas.
In the month I became Prime Minister, Mr. Peter Brooke, who was the then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, had opened an intelligence channel to receive messages from the Provisional IRA. By November of that year,1990, he made the important statement, which I will abbreviate, to the effect that the British Government had "no selfish or strategic interest in Northern Ireland".
At the outset, I spent a long time reading myself into the problem and its history. I did so to get into the minds of the opposing factions in order that I might better understand their fears and ambitions. It was clear the hopes, ambitions and fears of unionists and nationalists were very far apart. During the next six and a half years, my door was always open to politicians of all the established political parties as well as the churches and community bodies. Later, I had innumerable meetings with Albert Reynolds and, after him, John Bruton, many of which were informal and private rather than declared and public. One relationship already in play when I became Prime Minister was the Hume-Adams dialogue that had begun in 1988. This was in some ways helpful, but in others less so. I will come to that a little later.
In February 1992, Albert Reynolds became Taoiseach. Within a fortnight, we had a private supper at Downing Street. We discovered an empathy, which we knew was there because we had met as finance ministers some years earlier, and a shared ambition to end violence in Northern Ireland. Despite disagreements, rows, frustrations and all the things that go with negotiation, our friendship held until the day Albert died. I will make clear that his role in advancing peace should never be underestimated. He was a remarkable man who, for me, became a friend to cherish. Sometimes we disagreed. Many of our disagreements were trivial while others were more substantial. Albert would have preferred me to become a persuader for unification but that I could not, and would not, do. The reason is clear. If I had done so, it would have broken the peace process because the unionist community would never have co-operated in any way. It was clear that unification, if it were to come about, would have to be with the open consent of the unionist community. Any attempt at duress would have failed and led to renewed violence. That remains true.
At that time, the three-stranded talks were often stalled simply because the political parties would only talk to the UK Government and would not talk to one another. Unionists were intensely suspicious of the Hume-Adams talks, in part because no unionist voice took part in them. In late 1992, Paddy Mayhew, who was by then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland following Peter Brooke, promised a fair deal to all who abandoned terrorism. Soon afterwards, we received a back-channel message from the Provisional IRA that was dramatic. I am sure committee members are familiar with it. The message stated: “The conflict is over but we need your [that is, British] advice on how to bring it to a close. We wish to have an unannounced ceasefire in order to hold [a] dialogue leading to peace.” It went on to state, and the following points up a real problem that the Provisional IRA had throughout the whole of the process: “We cannot announce such a move as it will lead to confusion for the volunteers because the press will misinterpret it as surrender.” Fear helps explain why bombings went on even as the process advanced. The message concluded: “We cannot meet [the] Secretary of State’s public renunciation of violence, but it would be given privately as long as we were sure that we were not being tricked.”
From a British point of view, there were questions to be asked. First, was the message genuine? I was assured that it came from Martin McGuinness, although he always denied it. If he did not send it, it is clear he was aware it was being sent and of its substance. We wondered whether the message was perhaps a trick. If it was genuine and we ignored it, we would have lost a chance for peace. As for me and Paddy Mayhew, the then Secretary of State, we could have lost our jobs or lost the peace process. Paddy and I consulted colleagues and decided to respond positively. In March 1993, we agreed to an exploratory dialogue, without a pre-determined outcome, and emphasised that the result could be a united Ireland but only on basis of consent by the people of Northern Ireland.
Despite this, violence continued. On the very day our reply was delivered, two small boys were killed by a bomb in Warrington. That atrocity nearly brought the process to a halt at an early stage. Bombs at Bishopsgate and an explosion in the centre of Belfast soon followed. My judgment of this was that the IRA believed that continuing violence would reassure their members - their volunteers - that there was no weakness on the provisional side, and so we decided to continue with talks. On 23 October 1993, ten people were killed on Shankill Road by the Provisional IRA. A week later, loyalists retaliated by killing eight and wounding 19 in Greysteel. These outrages caused deep public revulsion. We then received a further message. It claimed the British Government could not solve the problems talking only with Dublin and asked when we would open dialogue with the IRA “in the event of a total end to hostilities”. This message set no conditions for such talks.
I convened a meeting with senior colleagues and we agreed to spell out in detail what we needed for talks and what we wished the IRA to do to enable them to take place. This we did on 5 November 1993. We stressed there could be no secret agreement with the IRA. There could be dialogue, but only after a permanent end to violence. If that were obtained, we would open dialogue “within a week of Parliament’s return” in January 1994. That was the last message
to go via a private route.
Of course, this was all related to the idea of a joint declaration. That was a good idea that sprang initially from the Hume-Adams talks in the late 1980s. Dublin had been discussing it with Gerry Adams in 1991; Charlie Haughey had suggested it to me even earlier. In February 1992, John Hume offered a text, presumably, we thought, from Sinn Féin. Albert Reynolds knew the February text was unacceptable but could not shift the Provisional IRA. He presented it to us and we rejected it. In June, Irish officials offered a different text. The idea of the declaration remained sound to us but, in truth, both texts were dead in the water. Also, in June 1993, I met Albert Reynolds and Dick Spring together. We liked the principle of a joint declaration. It could offer a way forward for unionists, nationalists and the paramilitaries. I met Albert in Brussels by which time it was clear the Hume-Adams process would never be acceptable to unionists. If any declaration were to be widely accepted, especially by unionism in the North, it would have to be negotiated by London and Dublin and accepted by the British and Irish Parliaments.
In October 1993, progress was stuck and I reiterated publicly that if the IRA ended violence, Sinn Féin could enter politics as a democratic party. Ironically, public disgust at the violence on Shankill Road and Greysteel helped move us forward. We developed our own text, with helpful advice from James Molyneaux, then leader of the Ulster Unionist Party, and the Church of Ireland. Albert Reynolds initially rejected our text, but then suggested amendments and the chance of an agreement rose.
We met at Dublin Castle on 3 December 1993. Albert Reynolds and I had a fierce row - the fiercest we ever had - over the fact that we had a back channel, which was his concern, and my concern was the number of leaks that had come from the Irish side about what we were doing. Yet, we then turned to the draft and made progress. Failure would have been disastrous but slowly and surely, we worked towards an agreement. I believe if we had failed, the peace process might - and I emphasise the word “might” - have become untenable perhaps for some time.
On 14 December, we agreed the final text in a long telephone call. The next day, Albert Reynolds came to London, and we announced the agreed joint declaration. At last, we had the basis of an agreement that received overwhelming support from nearly every source. However, it was a basis only: a set of agreed principles. It was a beginning. Yet, after 70 years of partition and 24 years of bloodshed, it was an agreement both the UK and Ireland could accept. From then on, I was confident a deal could eventually be done and so was Albert Reynolds. A mini-Rubicon had been crossed. The text was convoluted but it served its purpose. It promised a fair outcome. The unionists were reassured a united Ireland would only come about with their consent. Nationalists were promised their interests would be protected. The paramilitaries were offered a route into political life. This was all an essential preliminary to the Good Friday Agreement.
On 31 August 1994, a ceasefire was announced by the IRA. I made it clear publicly that if it were irreversible, we would respond positively. To accompany the ceasefire, IRA supporters came onto the streets to declare a triumph, which carried the flavour of a victory for them, which it was not of course. This destabilised the unionists who were ever fearful of being betrayed. It was a smart, if a bit cynical move by the IRA to cover the backs of their leaders. The outcome was welcome, but there was still no commitment to permanence or - as events were to prove - to disarmament. Nor did the punishment beatings end.
To encourage movement towards a settlement, I committed the Government to a referendum on the eventual outcome of constitutional talks, I lifted the ban on broadcasting the voices of the Provisionals and I relaxed some security measures. Our intention was to encourage the Provisionals into the political process.
On 13 October 1994, the loyalist paramilitaries also halted violence and hopes rose that we might move into a permanent ceasefire. I announced a new package of measures on the “working assumption” the ceasefire would hold. I also promised that talks with paramilitaries on both sides would include “how illegal weapons and explosives could be removed from life in Northern Ireland”. I promised we would convene an investment conference to inject money, essentially investment, into the North. Throughout all this, the unionists remained nervous, always fearful there could be a sell-out. They were suspicious of an IRA leadership that was apparently committed to peace but was at the same time recruiting new volunteers.
At this point, in December 1994, Albert Reynolds resigned as Taoiseach, which was a great disappointment to me, both personally and politically. I was extraordinarily lucky that John Bruton succeeded Albert Reynolds. He, like Albert Reynolds, was keen to move forward. That year - 1994 - ended positively. British officials met Sinn Féin for the first time in 25 years and also met the loyalists. The investment conference I promised met in Belfast. Officials from the Northern Ireland Office and their counterparts in Dublin were working on what became the framework documents. Let me say a word about those. Strand 1 related to the internal government of Northern Ireland and it proposed a new executive and assembly, which was, of course, the sole responsibility of London and Belfast. Strands two and three were different. Strand 2 covered relations between Belfast and Dublin while strand 3 covered relations between the UK and the Republic. All three strands needed agreement. The mantra was: “Nothing is agreed until all is agreed”.
During 1994, before he resigned, Albert Reynolds and I, together with Paddy Mayhew and Dick Spring, had worked hard on the documents. It was hard pounding, to be frank. Progress from time to time was on a knife’s edge. At this pivotal moment, what Paddy Mayhew called “black work at the crossroads” nearly derailed the whole process. The Times of London was leaked an extract from the text of the framework document and wrote an incorrect report of it with the assertion that it “brought the prospect of a united Ireland closer than at any time since Partition in 1920”. We told The Times categorically that their story was wrong, but they printed it anyway. At that moment, nothing could have been more damaging in the UK to the peace process. I called a midnight meeting of parliamentary colleagues to brief them, in order to avoid outright rebellion in Parliament. It was, to be frank, a close-run thing, but they accepted our word, not least because Robert Cranborne, who is now Lord Salisbury, was an undoubted supporter of the unionist cause and he supported what we said about the documents. After this, we pressed ahead with meeting unionists to allay their fears.
In February 1995, John Bruton and I reached agreement. We launched the joint framework documents in Belfast and put the proposals out for public consultation. I would like to take this opportunity to pay tribute to John Bruton for his skilled and constructive commitment in helping us get this over the line.
The unionists were hostile, the Republican bishops complained, the Presbyterians said the documents were “too green” but as the proposals were examined more closely, vocal criticisms fell away. Yet, the unionists would not accept the joint framework documents as a basis for progress, so Paddy Mayhew produced an issues paper. Shorn of constitutional prose, it helped ease the fears of a majority of critics. It seemed for a time that the frameworks documents might fail. There were no inclusive talks, nor renewed constitutional negotiations. They did not fail. Reassembled, they became the basis for the Good Friday Agreement.
Although there was occasional violence, 1995 was the first year in a quarter of a century without any terrorist killings in Northern Ireland. The problem of guns and explosives remained, which the British and Irish Governments agreed had to be addressed. The Provisionals sought entry to the negotiations but stone-walled over weapons, falsely claiming that decommissioning was a new issue. That was demonstrably untrue but from their perspective surrendering weapons, especially to the British Government, looked like a defeat. I think that lay behind a good deal of their intransigence. Mr. Adams said "we must take the gun out of Irish politics”, a sentiment with which I wholly agree, but he then argued this included the army and the police, who did not bomb, murder or knee-cap. During this convoluted discussion, some progress was made but was often then undermined.
In October 1994, we had set up a working group which was headed by Sir John Chilcot, the permanent secretary of the Northern Ireland Office, and Tim Dalton, the permanent secretary from Ireland’s Department of Justice. Its report in February 1995 suggested decommissioning should begin with “a worthwhile quantity of arms”, with parallel progress in relaxing security measures and release of prisoners.
On 3 November, to further encourage progress, Michael Ancram met Martin McGuinness. A meeting between Paddy Mayhew and Mr. McGuinness soon followed. No movement on decommissioning resulted
In June 1995, John Bruton and I met at a European Union summit in Cannes and agreed to build on the idea of an international commission, as first suggested by Ken Maginnis, MP for the Ulster Unionist Party. As Sir John Chilcot and Tim Dalton worked up the idea, the US ambassador to the UK, Admiral William Crowe, met Gerry Adams to protest at the refusal to move on decommissioning. I agreed yet more private meetings with Sinn Féin, which drew predictable opposition in and beyond the British Parliament. Critics were wary that Sinn Féin was allied to an armed militia.
Patrick Mayhew was developing a twin-track initiative based on parallel progress on decommissioning and political progress. As the first anniversary of the ceasefire approached, on 31 August 1995, threats of a breakdown led to requests for concessions in essence, for not returning to violence.
On 1 September 1995, the British and Irish Governments reached agreement on holding a summit five days later to launch the proposed decommissioning body. The Provisional IRA did all it could to block it. The Irish Government was threatened with a return to violence and bodies in the streets. At that point, John Hume supported opposition to the twin-track agreement. John Bruton tried to hold the line but it became clear that postponement of the summit was a more prudent course. The Americans tried to revive the initiative in mid-September but were rebuffed by Gerry Adams. At a meeting of European Union leaders in Majorca, John Bruton was resolute that he still wished to revive the twin-track proposals and, days later, David Trimble and Ian Paisley of the UUP and the DUP, respectively, both separately proposed an elected assembly where all parties could meet.
November brought setbacks. Unhelpful leaks from the United States suggested it wished to “knock heads together”. US proposals were rejected by the Provisional IRA. John Hume and Martin McGuinness suggested ideas that would undermine the international commission and set ultimatums for all-party talks that, as John Bruton remarked, had no hope of running.
To regain momentum, the Northern Ireland Office repackaged the twin-track proposals into a building blocks paper. Tortuous negotiations followed. Sinn Féin accused the British Government of insisting on surrender. To refute this, we published the paper in full.
On 28 November 1995, John Bruton and I met at Downing Street and agreed both the twin-track initiative and to establish an international body to assess decommissioning. We announced a three-man international body with Senator George Mitchell as its head and asked it to report by mid-January 1996. I doubt if George or his colleagues, General John de Chastelain and Harri Holkeri, realised how long they would be involved.
President Clinton arrived in London the following day. He was shocked when I showed him evidence that since the 1994 ceasefire the IRA had carried out 148 so-called punishment beatings and the loyalists 75. In speeches in Britain and in the North and South of Ireland, Bill Clinton rammed home the peace message, condemned punishment beatings and attacked terror. It was a stellar performance. The IRA responded a week later, stating there was no question of meeting the demand for a surrender of IRA weapons.
Public opinion, however, was moving against violence. Before Christmas 1995, I made my 13th visit to Northern Ireland and was greeted with John Bruton in the South with tremendous public support for what we were seeking to do.
In 1996, the Provisional IRA dug in. There was a reason for that. It was waiting for a UK general election, with opinion polls indicating the probability of a Labour Party Government.
The Mitchell report in January 1996 noted “nearly universal support ... for the total and verifiable disarmament of all paramilitary organisations”. He further noted that the IRA "will not decommission any arms prior to all-party negotiations." He added that “an elective process could contribute to the building of confidence”.
The dilemma of how to bring all the parties together remained, however. The IRA and other paramilitaries would not get rid of their weapons and until they did the unionists would not enter talks. It looked like stalemate and, from my perspective, it certainly felt like it for quite a few months. An elective body to bring all parties together seemed the only way forward but it attracted impassioned opposition from John Hume, who accused the Government of trying to buy votes to keep itself in power. This was an unfair attack by John - uncharacteristic and untrue. I think it resulted from his complete distaste and fear that there might be a return to some form of the old Stormont. That was not going to happen.
Matters worsened in February 1996, when the IRA ended its ceasefire by exploding a bomb at Canary Wharf, killing two people and injuring more than 100. As a matter of course, it blamed the British Government. The Canary Wharf bomb broke the peace and lost support for the Provisional IRA in Ireland and the United States. It brought London and Dublin even closer together.
On 28 February 1996, the UK and Irish Governments agreed ground rules for all-party talks and confirmed they could begin on 10 June. Elections to the negotiating body would be held in May. The elections took place, and with Sinn Féin, but a month later the IRA exploded a massive bomb in Manchester, only days after the opening of the all-party talks under the chairmanship of Senator Mitchell. This bomb convinced me we would not reach a settlement before the next election.
It was clear to me that a new Government would need to pick up the talks. Tony Blair and the Labour Party had been supportive throughout the process and I was confident they would carry it forward were they to win the election, as they did. The Labour Party and Mr. Blair did not carry the scars of 18 years of dispute in government with the IRA and I believed they would be able to build on the joint declaration, the framework documents, the united international support for the peace process, and the work of George Mitchell and his committee. It is greatly to the credit of Tony Blair and the Labour Party that they did so.
If I may, I will add one final point. The peace process did not progress simply because of the politicians and their officials. The Northern Ireland community, definitely the churches, individual clerics, groups such as the Peace Women, and so many others all played a part in framing public opinion at difficult moments and carrying the whole peace process forward at times when it looked to be in difficulty. I hope that no one person, group, political party or ideology will now risk imperilling the peace so carefully constructed by so many for so long.
I will leave it at that. Perhaps we can turn to questions the Chairman and committee members may have.
