“A fragment from some future unimagined sky,” was how Michael Longley saw the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. Just as the tone immediately before and after the Agreement was signed were an abundance of optimism and hope for the future; last Tuesday afternoon saw a lingering ember from which a flame may well sill rise.

Building Peace: The Belfast/Good Friday Agreement 20 Years On was held at the Whitla Hall of Queen’s University, surrounded by only slightly fewer police and security officers than when Celtic play Rangers. The event was opened with remarks by Professor Hastings Donnan, Director of the Senator George J. Mitchell Institute, which was hosting the event; Northern Secretary Karen Bradley, who spoke with as much substance as would her last two predecessors; Tánaiste Simon Coveney, who spoke rather well, in no small way aided by contrast with the previous speaker; and Senator Mitchell himself who received a standing ovation which should have carried a prior warning for the faint hearted.

Senator Mitchell made clear that, in spite of those who would later be on stage, the “real heroes” of 1998 were the people of Northern Ireland. He said that when he first arrived here, many expressed gratitude to him for trying to help, but also hopelessness for the notion that anything would come of it. “After seven hundred days of failure,” said Mitchell, “they joined together in one day of success, and changed the course of history,” which is a useful sentiment as the last year of political commentary has not seen nearly enough acknowledgement for the peace process of a long and arduous trudge with successes, failures, failed attempts at successes, and successes where failures were suspected.

The first panel, chaired by Peter Sheridan, concentrated on the parts of Northern Irish society where peace and reconciliation had not taken hold. Bronagh Hinds, of the Women’s Coalition, said that in a time of peace it was unconscionable to have murals in loyalist areas that bore the old slogan ‘Prepared for Peace: Ready for War’. Denis Bradley described paramilitary dissidents as like “Teddy boys at a rave,” in that they were out-dated and were desperately vying for contemporary relevance with their own war against drugs. Bradley argued that continued paramilitary presence was one of the main obstacles to reconciliation and a greater peace, as reform cannot happen in communities that “cannot breathe” from the violence hanging over their heads. He also speculated that paramilitaries seemed more prevalent within loyalist communities.

In the second panel, Seamus Mallon, in criticism of the current Sinn Féin strategy towards a border poll, borrowed Bradley’s phrase and stated that he, as a nationalist, could not persuade unionists towards unity if they “cannot breathe.” He also told the story of a farmer he knew in South Armagh who had been killed on land that had been in his family for four hundred years; as the blood poured into the land, was the land Irish, or British? Mallon stated he did not care what we call this place, “so long as it has one name: home.”

In further mention of the Agreement as not end of the peace process but a part of it, former Alliance Party leader Lord Alderdice used the analogy of a marriage contract which is “not the end of the business, and if you think it is then it will probably be the end of the marriage.” Alderdice stated that the Agreement was the redefinition of three relationships: Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland; the Republic of Ireland and Britain; and Northern Ireland and Britain. Each of these relationships, said he, still needs effort in order to work.

The third and final panel, chaired by George Mitchell, featured Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, and Bertie Ahern. Each of the speakers explained that there was no guarantee that the Agreement would not have failed in as prompt a manner as had the two before it, but for the dedication of those involved and the leadership exemplified by “people prepared to say difficult things to their own supporters,” as Blair put it. The build-up to the Agreement was a “long and arduous road,” said Blair, but people were “prepared, not to forget the past, but not to let it decide the future.”

Clinton joked that “now [the United States] might need you to come and help us,” which may well be true, as despite its persistent problems (as opposed to Troubles) the process of reconciliation has been and is still underway in Northern Ireland; meanwhile the United States, and Britain too, seem to be moving in the opposite direction. It is useful, as a tonic for pessimism, to put our own political climate within the wider global context.

It was clear that the Agreement was remembered with pride by those who had worked so arduously to see it through, and that the same hope for the “future unimagined sky” had not died. This optimism was not unfounded, and that was best demonstrated later that evening.

The rank-and-file of the Women’s Coalition had booked a room at the Linen Hall Library; a rather appropriate venue for the day, considering it was founded by the United Irishmen and was also the only place the Provisional IRA apologised for bombing. There were a few speeches made, memories shared, glasses of wine emptied, and music played by folk singer Tommy Sands. Afterwards was a bite of dinner in a restaurant across the road at around 8pm, before a drive home to Rostrevor.

Had the Agreement not have been a success then that evening would not have happened: the city centre would have closed at 7pm at the very latest, but that would not have mattered as most people would not have gone into the city centre anyway. As it was, our bags were not searched and our glasses were full and so, to some extent, we were in that sky previously unimagined.