Sarah Kay, human rights lawyer

As a teenager in the spring of 1998, I felt frustrated and stuck. I lived in a small house in West Belfast with my grandmother and a rotating group of cousins. My grandfather, an active member of the Republican movement, had died a few years earlier. I was lucky to spend summers traveling with my parents, who had custody of me, experiencing a world beyond our limited opportunities and ongoing conflict. Trips across the border to visit family in Dublin were rare and complicated.

The events of April 10, 1998, were years in the making, stemming from the shortcomings of agreements like the 1993 Downing Street Agreement. However, the 20th anniversary of this event arrived with an unexpected twist – the 2016 Brexit referendum. This decision jeopardized the Northern Irish peace process, prioritizing discussions about the customs union the UK intended to leave. Brexit supporters should pay close attention to the Good Friday Agreement, a document that directly challenges their desired separation due to its legal weight and the protections it guarantees.

The Good Friday Agreement and international human rights law obligations

The Good Friday Agreement is a unique international agreement. It was approved through referendums held simultaneously in both the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. This requirement of mutual consent underscores its significance. The Agreement stresses the importance of upholding the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and the Bill of Rights of Northern Ireland in both lawmaking and legal proceedings. It also highlights the necessity of cross-community collaboration and cultural equality for Northern Ireland’s future.

In 2017, as Brexit loomed, the European Parliament commissioned a study to analyze its potential impact on Northern Ireland, a region already grappling with instability and a lack of representation. With the resignation of Martin McGuinness, the Northern Ireland Assembly dissolved, raising concerns about London assuming direct control. Brexit fueled fears that the UK government would regain complete authority over Northern Ireland, potentially sidelining the Irish and Irish-British communities. The Good Friday Agreement, however, safeguards the right of residents to choose their national identity and even hold dual citizenship.

The agreement designates both the UK and the Republic of Ireland as guarantors, responsible for ensuring its implementation. This responsibility includes a commitment to avoid actions that could strain the relationship between Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland, or the European Union without achieving mutual consent. Brexit, as it stands, clearly violates this commitment.

However, the Agreement does not mandate perpetual EU membership. As highlighted by a Belfast High Court ruling on Article 50, the agreement focuses on Northern Ireland’s position within the UK or the possibility of reunification with the Republic of Ireland. Yet, the EuroParl study argues that the implicit assumption of continued EU membership is crucial for the agreement’s effectiveness. This implies that any alternative to joint membership for both the UK and the Republic of Ireland necessitates a renegotiation of the Good Friday Agreement, a risk many deem too great. The rights outlined in the Agreement, particularly those regarding freedom of political thought, protection from sectarian harassment, and the right to live freely, might seem straightforward, but they are the result of years of painstaking negotiations.

The peace wall on Cupar Way in Belfast, a stark reminder of past divisions, was recently compared in size to the Berlin Wall and the Palestine Wall in a graphic published by the institute for Ireland. The Good Friday Agreement might not erase these physical barriers but offers a framework that prevents forced segregation. For someone like me, who grew up rarely seeing the sun rise on one side of these barriers, this signifies a powerful shift.

During the Brexit referendum, I wrote about how the Irish border is etched into the minds of those who lived through the Troubles and the generations before. This division persists even in the autocorrect feature on my phone, which insists on capitalizing “the Border.” What sets this boundary apart from conventional international borders is its current invisibility. This seamlessness is a result of years of EU-driven harmonization – in trade, regulations, and simply the passage of time.

Checkpoints have been replaced by fields; customs offices have given way to houses and farmland. Cross-border commuting is a way of life, facilitated by shared currency within the customs union. While not explicitly addressing the border, the Good Friday Agreement acknowledges its existence through the lens of cross-community relations. This approach underscores the agreement’s core principle: the gradual easing of physical, technical, legal, and political barriers to foster reconciliation and fluid identities. This approach hinges on continuous support for cross-border workers and equitable access to services and entitlements.

Reinstating a hard border threatens these hard-won rights. These rights were granted with the understanding that relationships would continue to mend, that the “island of Ireland” would be treated as a single entity, as opposed to two separate, potentially unequal regions. A return to a physical border undermines this vision.

The Good Friday Agreement and its role in Northern Ireland’s political existence

Some cynically claim the Good Friday Agreement was a failure, pointing to the current political impasse and the need for direct rule. However, as legal scholar Dr. Alan Greene argues, the Agreement was never intended to be a comprehensive solution but rather a framework for navigating the intricate transition from conflict to peace. It outlines safeguards and principles for building a shared future.

For those of us living in Belfast, Derry, Ballymena, and throughout County Donegal, this agreement is the reality we voted for in 1998. While some, like the DUP, opposed it due to its emphasis on power-sharing and equality, the Agreement remains a cornerstone of the peace process. The unease caused by Theresa May’s deal with the DUP after the 2017 UK General Election stems from their history of prioritizing sectarianism over governance.

As Brexit unfolds, Northern Ireland finds itself without a functioning executive government, its voice absent at a crucial juncture in its history. The English media’s narrow focus on the technicalities of the border ignores the Agreement’s role in enabling peaceful coexistence between previously conflicting identities. No one seems to be asking those of us who came of age during the Troubles about the impact of power-sharing or the realities of living with a physical border. The Good Friday Agreement might be imperfect, but it provides a foundation for peace and stability, prioritizing the needs of diverse communities over sectarianism. This achievement is underpinned by the shared EU membership of both the UK and the Republic of Ireland, a testament to the Agreement’s success in resolving conflict.

In conclusion, jeopardizing the Good Friday Agreement is simply not an option. For those who view Brexit as a purely economic issue, the situation in Northern Ireland might seem like a relic of a bygone era, a problem already solved. However, the Agreement’s gaps and ambiguities offer opportunities to further strengthen its institutions, ensuring equity and peaceful governance.

While EU membership is often seen, by those like myself who advocate for human rights, as a guarantor of peace, this is not always the case. Nonetheless, the current fragile peace in Northern Ireland is directly linked to the UK’s membership in the EU. Brexit threatens to unravel 20 years of progress, jeopardizing security, trade, freedom of movement, and human rights—rights that are still fiercely contested in Northern Ireland. It’s crucial to ask why we should relinquish the progress made under the Good Friday Agreement for the sake of a process as undefined as Brexit.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 27

Photo credit: the author, West Belfast, aged 5