On the day my 94-year-old Irish mother passed this year, a neighbor – a retired Anglican vicar – stopped by and asked to pray by her bedside, despite, as respectfully explained, his being of a “different tradition.” I have thought much about this exchange in the days since, and not just for my own clumsiness in responding with something along the lines of “well, there is only one.” It has stuck with me for the simple fact that even at a time of shared loss, there was a perception of difference that felt in need of expression and acknowledgement.
Historically, acknowledging religious differences (divides, for some) in Ireland has, at times, been uncomfortable, given the association of Protestantism with the long history of English colonialism; though, whether my Roman Catholic parents’ neighbor was a descendant of old English transplants or Irish converts at some point in the past, I have no clue. And why should it have mattered? As we stood together, he reciting a prayer from his “tradition,” we were two neighbors, human beings, acutely aware, in the moment, of a certain shared destiny.
In the Good Friday Agreement, which in 1998 brought to a close a quarter century of civil conflict in Northern Ireland (aka “The Troubles”), there is a term that stands out: “parity of esteem.” It can be defined in different but mutually inclusive ways; politically, legally, culturally, socially. At its core, “parity of esteem” is the acknowledgement and respect of the differences between individuals and traditions in the community, sometimes living side-by-side. Simultaneously addressing the past, the present and the future, it is the recognition that the common interests and aspirations of all citizens in Northern Ireland, in this instance (and across the entire island of Ireland), can only be realized through commitment to:
“rigorous impartiality on behalf of all the people in the diversity of their identities and traditions…on the principles of full respect for, and equality of, civil, political, social and cultural rights, of freedom from discrimination for all citizens, and of parity of esteem and of just and equal treatment for the identity, ethos, and aspirations of both communities”
Such principles of respect might seem self-evident to citizens in most western, democratic societies, but the road to their acceptance in Northern Ireland has been fraught with tragedy. The very lack of parity of esteem – respect for the “different tradition(s)” of the other – that condemned Northern Irish to decades of bloodshed is at the root of most conflicts around the globe today; its absence between and within states and communities perpetuating ignorance and facilitating a demonization of the other that is all too common.
Take Lebanon. Like Ireland, the country has endured its own tragic history of colonialism, followed by bloody civil strife stemming from seemingly immutable and exclusivist communal narratives. In a recent publication by the Washington, DC-based Middle East Institute (MEI), eight authors, including Lebanese from “different traditions”, lay out a series of steps aimed at capitalizing on recent regional developments to bring much-needed attention and, hopefully, peace to the country. Over 69-odd pages of detailed recommendations, some arguably a tad ambitious given the state of local affairs at present, the primary causes (and cures) for Lebanon’s chronic instability are laid out; all that is but one, and it is the big one.
Of the thousands of words in the document, only 158 (one paragraph) – contributed by a former US ambassador – hint at something other than institutional corruption, Hezbollah or Iran as a root cause of Lebanon’s many ills, with just one sentence, alone, making the crucial point:
“Lebanese should consider how to structure a new social contract with the Shi’a that reassures them of respect for their democratic voice in the state’s power-sharing formula.”
No one can dispute that in Lebanon’s case, an external actor, Iran, and its local proxy, Hezbollah, are threats to regional peace and stability, and need to be tamed (and Israel’s borders secured); from a US and Israeli perspective, this is the primary objective of current peace talks. But if respect for the rights of 30+ percent of the Lebanese population is just an afterthought or something to be considered along the way, then there is a fundamental problem with the construct here. Absent parity of esteem – first and foremost between all of Lebanon’s confessions (or sects) – there will never be a Lebanon-Israel breakthrough, no Northern Ireland-type moment, and no end to the parasitic behavior of Lebanon’s political elites. It just won’t happen. The spoilers, of which there are many, won’t let it. It is foolhardy to think otherwise. And “the state’s power-sharing formula”? Sorry, even with Hezbollah out of the picture, it doesn’t offer a framework in which the Shia community will find resolution to age-old issues of prejudice and second-class citizenship; just as old arrangements in Northern Ireland, prior to the Good Friday Agreement, offered no way forward for the aspirations of that corner of the globe’s disenfranchised.
Acknowledgement of and respect for the “different tradition(s)” of the other, when it comes to resolving conflict, especially those of a civil nature, is not some elective, aftermarket pursuit – a pleasant byproduct to be imagined when the fighting ends. It is rather the starting point, the bedrock of peace, requiring dedicated, intentional efforts and sustained, generational cultivation. It is by no means easy and not without risk. In the case of Northern Ireland, it took years of confidence-building measures, and setbacks were frequent and sometimes bloody. But through patience, local political courage and risking taking – backed by supportive, neutral third party diplomacy – the sides eventually came to accept the futility of further bloodshed and the need to “firmly dedicate ourselves to the achievement of reconciliation, tolerance, and mutual trust, and to the protection and vindication of the human rights of all.” This doesn’t mean forgetting the past and those lost but rather “honoring them through a fresh start” (Good Friday Agreement Declaration of Support).
The Good Friday Agreement, 28 years old this year, was not the end of the road for Northern Ireland or its southern neighbor, the Republic of Ireland, as there is still unfinished business under the terms of the agreement. It was merely the start of a long, overdue journey that will end when the majority fully recognize their common destiny; when the “different traditions” no longer need to be acknowledged, but instead are accepted and embraced as part of the mosaic of a vibrant, stable society.