From enemies to partners in N. Ireland

One is a hellfire-and-damnation Protestant pastor who looks at the Roman Catholic papacy as “the seed of the serpent” and “the progeny of hell.” The other is a Catholic former deputy commander of the Irish Republican Army who once served time for possessing 250 pounds of explosives and 5,000 rounds of ammunition.

The two men have never been alone in a room together. They have barely exchanged a word, let alone a handshake. But if all goes as planned, the Rev. Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness will become partners in one of the oddest governments Europe has known, in a land where the idea of Protestants and Catholics sharing power is the oddest idea of all.

Peace is slowly coming to Northern Ireland, or what passes for peace in a region still stunned by the decades-long civil war between Catholics who sought union with Ireland and Protestants who declared allegiance to Britain, a brutal conflict that claimed 3,700 lives.

Within the next two months, the glowering, iron-willed Paisley could be nominated as first minister of a new, jointly administered Northern Irish government. Serving at his side, as deputy first minister, would be McGuinness, who for years was part of the IRA’s leadership.

Last-minute obstacles

“When this happens, and I believe now that it will happen, it will probably be the biggest political development since the 1916 Rising or the partition of Ireland in the early 1920s,” McGuinness said in an interview last week. “I think many people will have to pinch themselves to believe that it’s true.”

The extent of the distance both men have had to come, and still must walk, was apparent Sunday, as Paisley’s Democratic Unionist Party signaled it was not ready to meet today’s deadline for joining McGuinness’ Sinn Fein in government. British officials have made clear that the alternative is to see Northern Ireland’s interim parliament at Stormont shut down immediately and the province ruled directly from London, with strong input from the Irish government in Dublin.

Yet DUP leaders reportedly signaled they were ready to commit to entering a government by May. And preparations were said to be underway for a possible first meeting today between Paisley and Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams on the timetable for forming a government.

But Sinn Fein appeared to be reluctant to go along with any delay, and a British official warned early today that the process could “crash” by midnight if Paisley did not agree to enter the government. The last-minute drama and sudden obstacles underscore what many see as the difficult prospects for any government run by these strangest of bedfellows.

“We’re going into a government where the two main leaders are a theocrat and an autocrat, each one leading a sectarian camp,” said Anthony McIntyre, an advocate of ending British rule who spent 18 years in prison for killing a British loyalist. “Is that what we fought about? Is it even a recipe for a lasting peace?”

‘The Big Man’

Belfast these days is a mix of heady excitement and rueful doomsday predictions from a population accustomed to years of breakthrough agreements followed by infighting delay deadlines and more talks.

Still, many here are predicting that a final power-sharing government will be put into place, if not today, then in the next several weeks.

For one thing, British Prime Minister Tony Blair is determined to end the Northern Ireland conflict before he steps down this summer, and his government has pledged $70.1 billion in aid to the new government over the next four years.

But there are other reasons: the Sept. 11 attacks, which ended any romantic ideas of “freedom fighters” in the U.S. and much of the IRA’s American support; the IRA’s subsequent, historic decision to disband and join the political process; the rise of a Catholic middle class in Northern Ireland; and the embrace of Europe, which has rendered boundaries across the continent far less distinct.

Crucial to it all has been the spiritual journey of the 80-year-old Paisley, a force in Ulster so huge and so immovable that no peace is possible without his hoarse, blustering blessing. Much as it took Ariel Sharon to dismantle Israeli settlements in the Gaza Strip, bringing “the Big Man” to the table has proved the only viable way to get dinner.

“Paisley was the Rubicon, the river all sides had to cross, or at least meet in the middle halfway,” said Peter Shirlow, a lecturer at the University of Ulster and a longtime follower of the peace process.

Yet the DUP’s announcement over the weekend that it was ready to enter a government with Sinn Fein in May raises questions for many in Belfast, on both sides of the divide. Why now? And if now, why not before?

“Paisley’s motivations raise a very mysterious question. But it also applies to Adams. Both of them have settled for compromises that were available in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Both of them have now departed from the essential political platform that they were both always associated with. And when you ask them why, in both cases, the answer is the same: The people have now changed and will permit me to do this,” said Paul Bew, professor of Irish politics at Queen’s University.

“What this deal shows is that both sides realize, at a very simple level, that they can’t have it all their own way.”

In the working-class Catholic neighborhoods along Falls Road, where murals of republican hunger striker Bobby Sands and various IRA heroes still tower over the sidewalks, there is resentment not only at Paisley for blocking a deal for so long, but also at Catholic leaders who took years to come to the table.

“For years, they had signs all over this place: ‘Smash Stormont.’ Now, what are they going to do? Walk into Stormont and sit in the government. So tell me this. What was all the bombing and killing about?” said Liam, a young Catholic man who declined to give his last name.

“Let’s face it. They didn’t win. Everybody knows if England pulled out tomorrow, this place would be a shambles,” he said. “Was it all for money? They say property’s booming, we’ll all get a lot of jobs. Well, we could have had all that 20 years ago. So what was the killing about?”

Strength of conviction

It is a Sunday, not long after the DUP has won the biggest block of seats in what will become, if an agreement is forged, the new Northern Ireland Assembly. Paisley has assembled his supporters at Martyrs Memorial Free Presbyterian Church for a service of thanksgiving.

His voice whistles and booms into the rafters from where he stands, like a blackbird in a bare tree, on a pulpit that looms impossibly high over the congregation. Barely a note is on key. No matter. It may be the loudest, and most intimidating, version of “Amazing Grace” ever offered up in prayer.

“It is right that we meet tonight and give God thanks for what he has done for us,” Paisley says in his inimitable voice, a Southern Baptist preacher’s booming drawl that has just a hint of the Irish.

He is a man, friends say, motivated by an unerring conviction that God’s will and Northern Ireland’s fate are intertwined, that God’s will becomes known through prayer, and that those best able to make the right decisions are those who keep the phone line open.

“I pray about everything, even the smallest things,” he told the BBC not long ago. “Because that’s what the scripture tells me. Take up to the Lord in prayer. I don’t believe I have to go into a room and shut the door, and turn all the lights off. I pray as I go. I pray constantly. It’s like breath.”

Tom Gilmore, Paisley’s chief assistant at the church, said he pencils in an hour each day out of the reverend’s schedule for dedicated communication with God. “Just before the election, we had a day of prayer at Martyrs,” he said. “After the morning meeting, we finished at 1 o’clock and prayed right through to 7.

“Rationally speaking, if you look at Dr. Paisley, he should never win an election,” Gilmore said. “He’s totally against the Roman Catholic Church, he’s totally against churches which have a relationship with the Roman Catholic Church. Humanly speaking, you would think he would be annihilated when he stands up in politics. But for five years running, he topped the poll in the European Parliament elections. For five years. And it’s because people respect him for being an honest man.”

Paisley’s refusal to consort with “the enemy” has most often been directed at the Vatican. “The dog will return to its vomit. The washed sow will return to its wallowing in the mire, but by God’s grace we will never return to popery,” he wrote in 1982.

But it has also been directed at the men whose offices, if all goes well, will soon be down the hall from his own at Stormont.

‘A massive responsibility’

McGuinness, 56, remembers serving in a joint delegation from Northern Ireland that traveled to South Africa in 1997 to learn about post-conflict reconciliation.

Paisley and the other unionists, he said, refused to fly on the same plane. “When we arrived at the compound, we were told that the unionists weren’t prepared to sleep in the same sleeping quarters, weren’t prepared to eat in the same restaurant and weren’t prepared to drink in the same pub,” McGuinness said.

“We experienced the ludicrous sight of Nelson Mandela coming to address the delegation and being told that they weren’t prepared to sit in the same room with us.”

McGuinness laughed ruefully, as if it was a raw joke that hadn’t ripened enough yet to be all that funny.

“We have now reached the point where we are on the verge of seeing the same individuals and personalities who made up those delegations in 1997, hopefully coming together to form a coalition government,” he said.

“My allegiance is to Ireland, his allegiance is to the United Kingdom. It’s fair to say we’ve been long-term political opponents during a very bitter conflict that existed for the better part of 25 years of violence, conflict and death. During all of that time, did I like Ian Paisley? No. Did he like me? Most certainly he didn’t.

“But the fact that we’re on the threshold of seeing these institutions up and running imposes a massive responsibility on both of us,” McGuinness said. “I want to work normally with Ian Paisley. I want to be able to do the business with him. Will we ever be bosom buddies? I don’t know. We’ll try.”

kim.murphy@latimes.com