Northern Ireland is often celebrated as a post-conflict success story. This spring marked 28 years since the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, which formally brought an end to nearly three decades of political violence known as the Troubles. Although Northern Ireland is far removed from the level of organized violence during the Troubles, the political, social, and territorial divisions are still visible today.

 

In June 2026, widespread anti-immigration protests erupted across Belfast and quickly devolved into violent riots, with homes believed to house immigrants set on fire, buses torched, and residents displaced from their communities (Associated Press).  The unrest followed the circulation of a viral video allegedly showing Sudanese asylum seeker Hadid Alol attempting to behead Northern Irish resident Stephen Ogilvie (B.B.C. News). This sentiment was not an isolated occurrence. Similar unrest occurred during anti-immigration demonstrations the previous summer, including the burning of a large effigy depicting migrants arriving by boat alongside a banner reading “Stop the Boats.” 

 

In both cases, the response from political leaders and law enforcement followed a familiar pattern. Government officials condemned the violence, the police increased deployments and made arrests, while human rights organizations stressed the protection of asylum seekers and the need to reject hate crimes. These responses are necessary to protect communities and maintain public order, yet they fail to answer a deeper question: why has immigration become such a powerful source of social conflict in a society that has spent nearly three decades building peace? The answer requires looking beyond immigration itself.

 

The Good Friday Agreement successfully reduced violence through compromise, power-sharing, and the creation of new institutions. However, ending organized political violence did not eliminate Northern Ireland’s long-standing ethno-sectarian divisions. Residential segregation between Catholics and Protestants continues, with over 90% of public housing still being separated in single-community areas, according to the Journal of Epidemiology and Community Health (J.E.C.H.). This separation is reinforced by physical barriers known as “peace walls” that consist of walls, fences, gates, and closed roads. Today, more peace walls remain than before or during the conflict, with more than 30.7 k.m. of walls in Belfast, according to research produced by Queen’s University Belfast. Schools also remain divided along these lines, with more than 93% of children in segregated schools (J.E.C.H.).

 

These divisions have become increasingly important as Northern Ireland’s population and understanding of community have changed. Northern Ireland has historically been a region of net emigration, but recent demographic data shows a shift toward net positive international migration (B.B.C.). This demographic change challenges a political system and social structure historically organized around a largely binary understanding of two communities. Newcomers do not fit neatly into the traditional Catholic-nationalist-Protestant-unionist framework, yet they are increasingly becoming part of Northern Irish society. This creates a challenge for a society whose institutions and political identities developed around these historic divisions. As immigration increases, questions of belonging are no longer limited to whether someone identifies as Catholic or Protestant, nationalist or unionist. They increasingly involve whether newcomers are viewed as legitimate members of Northern Irish society at all. In this sense, immigration exposes limitations in the existing framework for understanding community and belonging.

 

Despite this demographic change, immigrants and asylum seekers are often treated primarily as an immigration-policy issue rather than as part of the region’s continuing peacebuilding process. When tensions arise, the response is generally to police the resulting disorder rather than to address the underlying social conditions that allow exclusionary narratives to gain support. By framing anti-immigration riots primarily as criminal acts committed by extremists, governments risk addressing only the most visible symptom of the problem. They may stop a riot without preventing the next one. Northern Ireland is therefore experiencing a new expression of exclusion within a society whose historical understanding of belonging was already shaped by conflict. The communities being excluded may have changed, but the underlying logic of “us” versus “them” remains.

 

As a result, Northern Ireland requires a new approach to peacebuilding. The success of the Good Friday Agreement should not be measured only by the absence of sectarian violence. It should also be measured by whether Northern Ireland can adapt its peacebuilding institutions to a society that is becoming increasingly diverse. A more peaceful society could be created by greater integration and cross-community building efforts between Catholic and Protestant communities. In turn, further integration between the two predominant communities would create better opportunities for all, including immigrants and asylum seekers, to interact, exist, and participate peacefully in Northern Irish society. Additionally, these integration and cross-community efforts must be expanded to include all communities in Northern Ireland, through increased funding for integrating schools, removing unnecessary peace walls between communities, and expanding third-party cross-community spaces.

 

The goal should not be to erase the identities that have shaped Northern Ireland’s history. Instead, it should be to create a broader understanding of who can belong within it. The Good Friday Agreement created a framework for two historically divided communities to share a political future. The next stage of Northern Ireland’s peace process should ask whether that same framework can accommodate people who were never originally part of it. Northern Ireland’s future therefore depends on expanding the meaning of belonging beyond the divisions of the past, creating a society where those who arrived after the conflict are not outsiders to the peace, but part of the future it created.