Eileen Weir, a revered community activist of The Shankill now aged 70, reflects on the downfall of the Sunningdale powersharing agreement 50 years ago, during a conference commemorating its anniversary. Memories still linger about how she and countless other Protestants protested against the Sunningdale Agreement, incited by warnings from political leaders like Ian Paisley and Bill Craig who perpetrated a sense of impending peril for their community with the executive’s powersharing tilt.
Regret fills Weir, recalling those days when she rallied with Paisley, crisscrossing every hill in protest. A sense of fear was instilled in her family and neighbours on The Shankill by Paisley and Vanguard leader, Craig’s predictions about the ruin the Sunningdale powersharing executive could spell for their community.
In retrospect, during a meeting hosted by the University of Ulster to commemorate the collapse of the powersharing executive, Weir alongside Irish diplomats, Noel Dorr and Sean Donlon, and other influential figures such as Brid Rodgers and Hugh Logue from the SDLP, addressed the gathering. Also present was Anne, the daughter of Paddy Devlin.
While reflecting upon those times, Weir opines that the Sunningdale lessons hold relevance even today, taking into account the current scenario where the public opinion is molded as much by social media influencers as by political leaders. Details about the Sunningdale Agreement weren’t fully disclosed during her time, leading to misconceptions and fears of being distanced from their British roots, “It was only in later years that I actually found out what the Sunningdale Agreement was. We were told that it was Rome Rule, that we weren’t going to be British any more”.
She concludes that the misconstrued narrative remained prevalent until the Good Friday Agreement, indicating that it was all political propaganda to fuel fears among the masses. These realisations were shared by Weir during the event organised by the John and Pat Hume Foundation.
Following the refusal to merely take others at their word in 1998, figures including Weir from The Shankill took action to conduct their own explanations of the Good Friday Agreement’s details. These days, discussions increasingly centre on Irish unity, though some aspire to provoke discontent, according to her. Nevertheless, she emphasises the importance of sustained, knowledgeable exchanges; the country’s core constituents require ongoing updates.
In ’98, they placed great importance on ensuring that digestible information was made accessible to the public through classes and other means. The goal wasn’t to sway them on how to vote but to provide them with an honest understanding so they could decide whether or not they wanted the Good Friday Agreement, she clarified.
Eileen Weir, who acquired her learning via the trade-union movement post-Sunningdale, concurred with this sentiment. She expressed discontent with the longstanding expectation to follow the directives of unionist politicians who promised care and protection, though, as she observed, even after 50 years of struggle and enduring the highest poverty rates, their words often rang hollow. Weir was clear in her ambition: she desired wealth for the impoverished, without further enriching the wealthy.
Donlon and Dorr, who had considerable involvement in the Sunningdale proceedings, still harbour a deep sense of loss regarding the agreement’s failure 50 years ago due to the missed possibilities and ensuing public suffering it resulted in. Donlon specifically recalled a memorable encounter with Harper Brown, the renowned manager of the frequently bombed Europa Hotel, during a visit on the day the Executive fell apart. Brown greeted him with steak and crème de menthe for breakfast in the absence of milk and water, owing to a power outage that defrosted all his stocked food.
Donlon described the period surrounding the Executive’s downfall as the peak of his professional life. His point of view suggested an underappreciation for the relationship between Conservative Prime Minister Edward Heath and Fianna Fáil Taoiseach Jack Lynch.
Previously, London had denied accepting Dublin’s involvement in Northern Ireland’s matters. However, after interacting with Lynch on two occasions, the Conservative head acknowledged the need for Dublin’s partnership.
The bond between Brian Faulkner, the Prime Minister of Northern Ireland and Ulster Unionist leader, and Liam Cosgrave, Lynch’s successor from Fine Gael, was instrumental. Their shared passion for horses laid the foundation of their relationship. Donlon recalls how their first conversation revolved around the struggles of finding a competent farrier.
According to Donlon, the SDLP leader, John Hume, played a pivotal role as a peacemaker, pulling people into discussions “when the odds seemed against it” during 1973 and up to the point of the breakdown on May 28th, 1984.
Similarly, the effectiveness and charisma of Willie Whitelaw, the Northern Ireland Secretary of State, were decisive during 1972 and 1973. His role as the head of the Sunningdale saw him keep negotiations afloat almost single-handedly at times.
Despite their faith in Whitelaw, the Irish Government was less confident with his senior official, Frank Cooper. Cooper’s attempt to have Donlon removed from Belfast ended a dining experience between the two. Donlon, who was among the Department of Foreign Affairs’ ‘travellers’ stationed unofficially in the North from 1971 to 1978, recollects Cooper’s remarks about his intrusion in their domestic matters.
Reflecting on the past, Noel Dorr, former top official of the Department of Foreign Affairs like Donlon, expressed how Sunningdale altered the dynamics between Dublin and London; London’s prior resistance to allow Dublin any influence being the cause.
Additionally, Lord Chalfont, Foreign Office minister in 1969, was cited having told the future Irish president, Paddy Hillery, it would be “inappropriate” to heed Dublin’s worries regarding an Apprentice Boys’ parade, asserting “Irish citizens were not affected”.
Edward Heath, the then Prime Minister in 1973, agreed to the formation of the Council of Ireland, to be managed by Stormont and the Irish Government, excluding British government involvement. Looking back, however, heeding Faulkner’s caution about the council’s potential harm to unionism may have been beneficial. Anticipation for Sunningdale was significant in Dublin, according to him, as it was viewed as a platform to revisit unresolved issues from the 1921 Anglo-Irish Treaty, which concluded the War of Independence. “Possibly, their expectations were too high,” he mentioned.