Cathal BarryLives could have been saved if Paisley’s ‘yes’ had come decades earlier, says Fr Tim Bartlett
For many Catholics, the life and legacy of the Rev. Ian Paisley evokes a complexity of emotions.
On the one hand, there is the indelible memory of decades of destructive rhetoric, vicious anti-Catholicism and determined opposition to every attempt at political compromise. On the other there is the indisputable fact that, whatever the personal or political motivation, his commitment to power-sharing, when it came, was wholehearted and ultimately vital in unlocking the hope of a new texture and tone to historically divided relationships across the island. That Ian Paisley was the one who signed the St Andrew’s Agreement and gave it a reach and hold within the Unionist community that no-one else could equal.
My own memories of Ian Paisley include his first official meeting with a delegation from the Catholic Church, led by Cardinal Sean Brady. The timing of the meeting was significant. At Dr Paisley’s request, it took place the day before the final round of the St Andrew’s talks.
He evoked spontaneous laughter on all sides when he made it clear that this was “not an ecumenical meeting”. I think we were all taken by how warm, welcoming and impeccably courteous Rev. Paisley was, especially to Cardinal Brady. This was a far cry from the man who had famously denounced Pope St John Paul II as the anti-Christ from the floor of the European Parliament only a few years before.
While the meeting discussed important issues such as child poverty and our shared ethical concerns about abortion, marriage and the family, it was clear that Rev. Paisley’s immediate priority lay elsewhere. What he wanted was our “guidance”, as he called it, as to whether or not he should do a deal with Sinn Fein at the forthcoming St Andrew’s talks.
It was Cardinal Brady who responded. If Cardinal Brady had argued against doing such a deal, I am absolutely satisfied that the subsequent talks at St Andrew’s, and the history of the peace process, would have been very different.
Conversations
For all his railing against the Church of Rome, it had become clear to me in this as in other conversations he had behind the scenes with Catholic priests, that Rev. Paisley still put great store by the word of a fellow “man of the cloth”, especially one as transparently good, decent and sincere as Sean Brady.
The following night, a friend of Ian Paisley phoned me from St Andrew’s. “Tim,” he said, “I have just been talking to the ‘Big Man’. The meeting with the archbishop has made a big impression on him.”
He then told me that when he asked Rev. Paisley how he felt about the meeting the Catholic Church delegation, he said to him, “Well, I caught a glimpse of how things could be. In fact, I realised how things should have been a long time ago.”
I suppose this sums up the conflict involved in assessing the legacy of Ian Paisley, a conflict I suspect he wrestled with himself in the later stages of his life. If only the remarkable “Yes” he eventually said had occurred decades earlier, how much better life could have been for us all, how many more lives could have been saved?
On the day he became First Minister, he brushed aside his complex past with the words: “That was yesterday. This is today. Tomorrow is tomorrow.”
Violence
In my view, this was just too easy. If we believe in justice, we can never forget the terrible suffering caused by those who chose the path of violence over democracy in our land, or by those who incited violence and undermined democracy by their cruel, inflammatory and destructive words and actions. The truth demands more from those who inflicted so much suffering than the sweeping claim: “That was yesterday, this is today.”
In the name of all those who were innocently robbed of their tomorrow, charity calls us to redouble our collective efforts to make an increasingly fragile framework for peace and stability work in our land, in the interests of all. Hope demands that we learn from the mistakes of our past. As we remember the life of Rev. Ian Paisley, in all its complexity, including his undoubted contribution to peace in the end, we might find some hope in the timely instruction of St Paul: “Do not use harmful words, but only helpful words, the kind that build up and provide what is needed, so that what you say will do good to those who hear you” (Eph. 4:29).
Fr Tim Bartlett is director of public affairs for the Diocese of Down and Connor.