Thanks to the Belfast Agreement, Northern Ireland is a better place
Twenty-five years on, its politics are rarely deadly. But they are depressingly dysfunctional
ON THE COLD April day in 1998 when the Good Friday Agreement was struck, George Mitchell told Northern Ireland’s leaders that he had a dream. The former American senator had missed most of the first six months of his son’s life in cajoling unionists and nationalists to reach a settlement. One day, he said, he wanted to sit with the boy in the public gallery of the Stormont Assembly, watching former enemies govern together. Fourteen years later he did just that. The ministerial statement they sat through was “dry as dust”, he said. “But it was music to my ears, and I thought it wonderful to hear.”
President Joe Biden, Rishi Sunak and other global leaders will soon be in Belfast, marking the deal’s 25th anniversary on April 10th. There is much to celebrate. You can see the accord’s traces in the city’s very architecture: without the fear of bombs, there are glazed structures on nearly every street. You can taste them, too: where once a ring of steel kept out not only bombers but also diners, the Michelin guide recommends 18 restaurants. They have fostered friendship and even love. The Troubles forced people to stick largely to their own communities. Though most still live apart, many mix freely in the city centre.
This article appeared in the Britain section of the print edition under the headline "A good Good Friday"
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