For President Biden’s Ireland visit, the UK feels like a third wheel
In the coming week, hosts and visitors alike will need to tread carefully to avoid the many snares that await in perilous diplomatic territory, writes Mary Dejevsky
The president of the United States is visiting the UK next week, but it will not be the state visit headlined in many British media reports at the start of the Easter holiday weekend. It is rather a single day’s visit to Belfast to join events marking the 25th anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement.
Joe Biden and his wife, Jill, will then spend three days in the Republic of Ireland, partly in connection with the anniversary, partly discussing bilateral relations, and partly – in the time-honoured tradition of Irish-American politicians – celebrating the Biden family’s ancestral roots in the counties of Mayo and Louth.
Now you might think, and I would not disagree, that visits north and south of the border to commemorate the agreement that brought an end to the 30 years of armed conflict known as “The Troubles” make very good sense. After all, the agreement, also known as the Belfast Agreement, was brokered by the United States, in the person of the lawyer and retired senator, George Mitchell. And if the president and first lady are going to cross the Atlantic for the anniversary, then it also makes sense for them to combine official events with that largely personal journey.
And so it might seem. But it is also possible to discern hints that preparations for the four days of next week that the Bidens will spend travelling in the island of Ireland have been something of a diplomatic minefield for all concerned and will retain enormous sensitivity until Air Force One has safely crossed out of Irish airspace next Friday.
Much, though not all, of that sensitivity resides in London, with another, even more sensitive portion, in Northern Ireland. Let’s start with the US president’s state visit to the UK, or rather the disclosure that an invitation had been issued and accepted. That news came out from the White House; it has not, at the time of writing at least, been confirmed by Buckingham Palace.
Nor are there any dates. The announcement appears designed to have made headlines in the British media – as it did – and to reassure the UK that it was not being left out. The Bidens may be spending three times as long in the Republic of Ireland as in the North (the UK), but fret not, the president will be coming to London before long and there will be an opportunity to put out the flags.
All right, the president will be staying away from the coronation, and the first couple assumed the lowest of profiles at the Queen’s State Funeral. But it is not to be inferred that the UK has been demoted in Washington’s esteem; the “special relationship” so prized by London is still intact. The UK should not take the president’s Ireland visit amiss.
So far, so good. But any fraternisation between the Irish Republic and a US president – especially a president with Irish Catholic roots – risks raising hackles in the Westminster corridors of power (although a lot less in most quarters perhaps than it used to).
John F Kennedy’s emotive presidential trip to Ireland was viewed with extreme wariness from London. But so, in a small way, is the continuing tradition of Ireland’s ambassador going to the White House to present the shamrock to the US president every St Patrick’s Day. The appointment of a Kennedy (Jean Kennedy Smith) as US ambassador to Ireland in the 1990s was not, to put it mildly, greatly welcomed in London.
The US and Ireland have emotional ties that the US and the UK simply do not have. They are both republics; they both fought for their independence from the mother country – and from the crown. The Irish diaspora is one of the largest in the US, with more than 10 per cent of Americans claiming Irish roots. Theirs a constituency that politicians must court, or at least not alienate, whether they are running for local dog-catcher or president.
The direct influence of the Irish vote may be waning, as the great waves of emigration to the US are passed. But there remains a romance about Ireland and all things Irish in the US that London has never been able to dispel. This complicated US-UK relations no end during the troubles, as a succession of ambassadors and prime ministers tried – mostly in vain – to persuade the US to stem the flow of funds to the IRA, seen by many in the US as “freedom fighters” pursuing the just cause of a united Ireland. Needless to say, this was not how it was seen in most of the UK, especially when “The Troubles” were at their height and the IRA brought their bombs to mainland Britain.
The Good Friday Agreement largely defused these particular state-level tensions. But each anniversary comes with certain reminders that are not especially comfortable for London; this despite Tony Blair – now Sir Tony – insisting, as he has again in recent days, that the agreement is “still an example for the world” and effectively reminding everyone that, even if he did not initiate the talks, he helped bring them to a successful conclusion.
And, of course, it would be churlish to deny Blair his laurels. But there were three in that agreement, and the others were the Irish taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, and Senator Mitchell, who chaired the talks. As seen from the UK, it is always Blair who features front and central, but by common consent there would have been no agreement had it not been for Mitchell.
That is one slight point that grates for London. UK governments and diplomats are very good at recommending third-party mediation to others (especially if the mediator is to be a Briton). But they really do not like it for what they might regard as the country’s “internal affairs”, which is how Northern Ireland’s “Troubles” were seen. This is why London really disliked what it saw as unwarranted US “advice” to settle Brexit disputes relating to Northern Ireland with the EU.
Another point often downplayed by London is that the agreement for the first time gave the Republic of Ireland a (small) say in the affairs of the North. In so doing, it effectively eroded the sovereignty of the UK. As with the small amount of sovereignty EU members agree to cede to the Union, you can argue that this small sacrifice is eminently worth making for the greater good (in this case, of peace). But this is a concession, and it is one that for the UK, but particularly for the Northern Ireland unionists, remains a bitter pill.
There is also a third point, which is of particular relevance in advance of the US president’s visit to Belfast. Northern Ireland has been transformed by the Good Friday Agreement. Sectarian violence is now rare. Catholics are not the disadvantaged minority they once were. But the peace remains fragile and far from complete.
The UK government put out a warning about the risk of attacks on police around the time of the anniversary (10 April). It is still not certain that the “Windsor Framework” will be enough to prevent any destabilisation in Northern Ireland. The power-sharing arrangement that was agreed 25 years ago turns out not to work now that the cast of characters has changed. And peace has not brought reconciliation; there are still fenced enclaves in Belfast, there are still marches and bonfires in August, there are very few schools that cross the religious divide.
In other words, while peace is a lot better than war, even all these years on, Northern Ireland still suffers from many of the tensions that bedog divided communities elsewhere. This is the truth, but it is a truth that the UK side, at least, prefers not to hear.
It is also another reason why, in the coming week, hosts and visitors alike will need to tread carefully to avoid the many snares that await in the perilous diplomatic territory that is the divided island of Ireland.
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