Catholic and Protestant Religious Leaders as Peacebuilders in Postconflict Northern Ireland: Three Peacebuilding Roles

Abstract

In postconflict Northern Ireland, religious leaders play a key role engaging with those on the political, economic, and social margins of civil society with whom state actors either cannot or will not engage with themselves. Using data from 26 interviews with senior religious leaders, diplomats, and politicians, this paper argues that through this engagement, religious leaders contribute to the peace process by (1) representing views of the marginalized, (2) holding power accountable, and (3) exemplifying five civil skills; namely, (a) principled leadership, (b) partnership, (c) pity, (d) maintaining privacy, and (e) engaging in persuasion. Knowledge of this new typology and of how religious leaders connect with the margins can enable more effective collaboration between secular and religious peacebuilders. It can also improve our understanding of how religious leaders conceive of their own role and how they navigate a postconflict environment, where disputes are mislabeled as primarily religious as opposed to political.

Introduction

The Troubles, a violent conflict in Northern Ireland, lasted from 1968 until the signing of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) on 10 April 1998. Though popularly known as a religious conflict between Protestants and Catholics, the civil conflict was fundamentally a political dispute between nationalists who sought a United Ireland, and unionists, who wanted Northern Ireland to remain politically and constitutionally within the Union of the United Kingdom. The Troubles has been interpreted as a religious conflict on the basis that “exceptionally high level[s] of religious devotion” among the population “create[d] a tense social environment that promote[d] and enforce[d] difference” (Elliot, 2013, p. 94). To proponents of this view, this climate of “competing populations…adhere[ing] to competing religious traditions” gave the Troubles “its enduring and intractable quality” (Bruce, 1986, p. 249). Although religion continues to serve as “the most entrenched signifier of the communal boundary in Northern Ireland” (Mitchell, 2006, p. 59), to describe the Troubles as a religious conflict over religious issues is to overlook the significance of other factors like class and wealth inequality. As McGarry and O’Leary (1996, p. 172) argue, communities were “also divided by broader cultural differences, national allegiances, histories of antagonistic encounters, and marked differences in economic and political power.” Moreover, “Northern Irish ‘communities’ are internally diverse in relation to religious culture…social class, gender, generations and political orientations” (Altglas, 2022, p. 48). So numerous are these categories of difference that a clear “line between theological and political rationale remains paper-thin” (Morrow, 1991, p. 3). Nevertheless, it would be wrong to assert that religion has nothing to do with political life in Northern Ireland. Bruce (1994, p. 22), for example, argues that “evangelicalism permeates loyalist politics,” often through the use of Christian rituals, liturgical texts, sites of pilgrimage and visual symbols. These combine to “form a kind of cultural reservoir from which categorisations of self and other may be derived” (McGarry and O’Leary, ibid, p. 30). Alternatively put, though the conflict is not fundamentally a religious one, the “cultural reservoir” of religion has been used to fuel and sustain it. This article seeks to understand how religious leaders can make use of these resources to contribute to the rebuilding of civil ties.

Peacebuilding Role of Religious Leaders Before the 1998 GFA

Throughout the twentieth century, religious leaders in Northern Ireland played an active role encouraging and facilitating peace talks between senior political leaders. They also continued to provide social and material welfare to the economic poor. By “religious leader,” I refer to a spiritual authority, ordained by the leadership of an established and recognized religion. ¹ Much of this work is already well documented, and the involvement of churches “constitute[s] one of the more obvious forms of religious input[s]” to peacebuilding (Brewer et al., 2016, p. 80). For example, the Corrymeela Community in Ballycastle, Antrim, is an important permanent hub for religious peacebuilding efforts. Founded in 1965 by Presbyterian minister Rev. Ray Davey and others, Corrymeela “provided a way for [different sides of the conflict] to meet safely, have difficult conversations well and support one another” (Corrymeela, 2025). Corrymeela sought:

“To become an ‘authentic’ Christianity community, proffering to society a mimetic substitute of freedom and inclusion to replace the predominant rival narratives of vendetta and victimization manifest across the region….[Corrymeela is] a real place where reconciliation can begin, where rest is possible, where diversity and difference are celebrated” (Tyler, 2015, p. 354).

Although places like Corrymeela served as isolated retreats, the majority of religious leaders were embedded within their parishes throughout the Troubles, meaning they, like other citizens, had firsthand experience of the violence. It is this position, with access to the grassroots, and membership of national churches, which invites further inquiry into the contributions of Christian religious leaders in securing and preserving the peace.

Remaining Questions for the Post-1998 Period

The postconflict period is of particular importance to policymakers and practitioners because “the key to the success of…a fragile peace is…the capacity of the transition process itself to reduce the political logic of violence” (Cochrane, 2012, p. 182). In addition to sectarian violence, other significant peacebuilding challenges include reducing poverty, keeping Northern Ireland's democratic political institutions open, and the decommissioning of weapons. Questions remain as to how religious leaders have helped confront these issues from the 1998 GFA to 2024. More specifically, who do religious leaders engage with in this peacebuilding work, and what skills do they exemplify? In using the term “postconflict,” I refer quite literally to the period after the signing of the GFA on 10 April 1998. But “postconflict” also denotes a period that “is relational and performative [and] produced through daily interactions between locals and internationals” (Hozić, 2014, p. 20). This can be considered “political theatre [in] offering conflicting images…of life before, during, and after the war” (ibid) Alternatively put, these conflicting and competing images are “narratives [that] continue to be deployed by groups coming to terms with the aftermath of mass violence” (Federman & Niezen, 2022, p. 3) and represent a contest over claims to victimhood and…a common understanding of …the Troubles’ main causes and effects. Despite its importance, Cochrane (ibid, p. 183) acknowledges that “less attention is given in the literature to the postconflict environment.” This study is concerned with narratives on how religious leaders have and continue to behave when working on peacebuilding projects. Greater knowledge of what skill set religious leaders bring can enable more effective collaboration between secular and religious peacebuilders and partially fill the knowledge gap Cochrane (ibid) identifies.

Civil Peace and Civil Society

Civil Peace

First, it is necessary to define peace—the goal all peacebuilders work toward. At a minimum, peace can be understood as “the absence of direct violence” (Galtung, 1996, p. 49). This negative peace contrasts with positive peace, whereby “a cooperative system…beyond passive peaceful coexistence” exists (ibid, p. 61). While negative peace concerns “conflict transformation,” ² positive peace concerns “social transformation” in postconflict society (Brewer, 2022, p. 502). Negative peace is what peacebuilders seek to achieve in the immediate period after a conflict ends, at a stage Barnett et al. (2007, p. 49) calls “stability creation.” This can involve the physical separation of recent enemies, the securing of external borders, and guaranteeing a flow of material aid into affected regions. It is in the second and third stages postconflict; namely, “the restoration of state institutions” and “addressing the socioeconomic dimensions of the conflict” (ibid), that civil society is able to advance towards positive peace and the focus of this paper. For peace to be civil and sustainable, individuals must “reimagine former enemies as co-citizens” (Pukallus, 2022, p. 7). This is to say, civil peace represents a “quest for commonality despite honest differences, for responsibility despite antagonism [and for] the recognition of the other despite divergent self-interests” (Barber, 1999, p. 46). Helpfully, Pukallus (2022) conceptualizes three principles that underpin this relational transformation (what she terms “discursive civility”). These principles are emotional forbearance, perspective-taking, and a requirement for reasonableness (ibid, pp. 9–10). This paper builds on this normative argument for how all citizens ought to behave by exploring what action religious leaders have done and continue to do to maintain the kind of positive peace Galtung (1996) describes.

The GFA set out a model of peace which prioritized and promised new political institutions to govern the relationship between Northern Irish political parties, and between the British and Irish governments. This institutional focus is an example of “liberal peacebuilding,” which advocates for a “combination of peace, democracy and [globalized] free markets” (Richmond, 2006, p. 292). Simultaneously “a discourse, framework and [a] structure” (ibid, p. 295), liberal peacebuilding has been criticized for promoting the idea that “omniscient third parties” ought to be “placed in a position to transfer external notions of peace into conflict societies and environments” (ibid, p. 296). It is this external imposition of peace on a seemingly passive population that often makes the enactment of Liberal peacebuilding “far from smooth” (ibid, p. 292). Critics may point to the frequent collapse of the Northern Irish Assembly as an example of Liberal peacebuilding's shortcomings. While liberal democratic institutions were designed to widen participation, this outcome is dependent on local populations feeling a genuine sense of attachment to and investment in the success of these institutions. Feelings of apathy and detachment often lead to low turnouts at elections, which can undermine institutional legitimacy and create political dysfunction that further alienates local populations. Instead, Richmond (2018) advocates a form of “post-Liberal” peace, of which the concept of “peace formation” is central. Peace formation is inclusive in that it is “a process of enablement and liberation rather than a process of intervention and governance” and an “ethical site of knowledge and an encounter of different types of identity and power/agency” (ibid, p. 237–8). To be successful, peace formation “must move beyond the common external understanding of ‘local knowledge’ as environmentally oriented” toward one that “is also social, political and cultural” (ibid, p. 238). In practice, this means engaging in “a reversal of learning” in which “externals lear[n] about the local by working contextually rather than assuming it should be like any other…space” and “pla[n] from below rather than wor[k] with blueprints from above” (ibid, p. 229). This emphasis on local engagement makes peace formation “partly depend[ent] on…networking opportunities” (ibid, p. 230). This study seeks to understand the contribution of locally embedded Christian leaders in building bottom-up peace by asking who they work with as peacebuilders, and what skills they exemplify while performing this role.

Civil Society and Local Peacebuilding

In considering civil peace, it is important to conceptualize the space in which it is built, lost, and/or repaired; namely, civil society. Civil society refers to “a network of associations that institutionalizes problem-solving discourses on questions of general interest” (Habermas, 1996, p. 367). These networks “contain[s] all associations…between the family and the state in which membership and activities are ‘voluntary’” (Edwards, 2004, p. 20). Alternatively put, it refers to a “solidary sphere” (Alexander, 2006, p. 31), or “the space in a society where collective citizen action takes place” (Malena & Finn Heinrich, 2007, p. 338). Merkel and Lauth (1998) envision civil society as having five essential functions: (1) protection, (2) intermediation between state and citizens, (3) participatory socialization, (4) community building-integration, and (5) communication. Though broad, “the functions are not mutually exclusive but rather complement one another in their conduciveness for democracy” (Paffenholz & Spurk, 2006, p. 8). Edwards (2004) conceives of civil society as having three roles; namely, (1) as associational life, (2) as the good society, and (3) as the public sphere. In its third role, civil society serves as “the arena for argument and deliberation as well as for association and…collaboration” (ibid, p. 64). Here, Edwards makes a normative case for how society could be, but Ganiel (2013, p. 13) emphasizes that, “in situations of conflict or divided societies…it is important to move beyond the assumption that the functions of civil society always have positive consequences.” Hann (1996, p. 20) touches on these challenges when advocating that we ought “to refer more loosely to [civil society as a] moral community, [and] to the problems of accountability, trust and cooperation that all groups face” within it. Civil society can only strengthen democracy and underpin civil peace when, “the discourse and practice of people in public associations must be politically and culturally civil” (Hefner, 2001, p. 10). I seek to examine these public associations and narratives around the role of religious leaders in making postconflict Northern Ireland more politically and culturally civil.

Furthermore, to recognize the value of civil society in peacebuilding is to emphasize the contribution of locally based actors to the peace process, a constituency Lederach (1997, p. 94) calls “instrumental and integral…[to] sustaining change.” Similarly, Fetherston and Nordstrom (1995, p. 102) acknowledge the need for external peacebuilders to focus on local actors by “integrating macro and micro-level activity” into their analysis. An awareness of the preferences and contribution of local actors constitutes part of the “local turn” of peacebuilding, which seeks to counter the type of top-down peace processes advocated by Liberal peacebuilding (Mac Ginty & Richmond, 2013). An awareness of local preferences also avoids the creation of “new ethical risks…[and] opportunities for domination” (Richmond, 2022, p. 126) by external peacebuilders seeking to impose their own agendas onto a population. Local preferences have been conceptualized by Mac Ginty (2021) as “everyday peace indicators” which help “tell a narrative of the issues that matter to communities” (Firchow & Mac Ginty, 2017, p. 9). These are locally determined and “can have multiplier, imitative, and inspiration effects” on a population (Mac Ginty, 2021, p. 213). Everyday peace can be considered “small peace” and stands in contrast to “top-down, institutionalist” “big peace,” characterized by “trappings of formality and legalism” (ibid, p. 212). Christian leaders are locally and institutionally embedded actors, raising questions as to their position and role at the intersection between politically competing (institutional-level) big peace and (grassroots) small peace.

The Three Peacebuilding Roles of Religious Leaders

To identify if and how religious leaders play a role in postconflict peacebuilding, I conducted 26 semistructured interviews with religious leaders and British state actors (BSAs) who have worked or continue to work with religious leaders on peacebuilding initiatives. I use BSAs to label those engaged in peacebuilding on behalf of the British/Northern Irish state, which mostly comprises of politicians, civil servants, diplomats and leaders of publicly funded bodies. Interviewees have worked at each of Lederach's three peacebuilding hierarchies: namely, top-level, middle-range, and grassroots (Lederach, 1997). A central theme which emerged was that religious leaders have a capacity to access and build ties with those on the social and political margins, whom politicians and diplomats were either unwilling or unable to meet. More specifically, engaging with those at the margins enables religious leaders to (1) represent the views of the marginalized, (2) hold power accountable, and (3) exemplify five civil skills; (a) principled leadership, (b) partnership, (c) expressing pity, (d) maintaining privacy, and (e) persuasion.

Scope and Methods

Using semistructured interviews allowed me to “incorporate both open-ended and more theoretically driven questions” (Galletta & Cross, 2013, p. 45) within the same interview, and all interviewees were asked the same six open-ended questions about their views and experiences of working as or with religious leaders. These questions pressed interviewees to consider the practical assets and skills available to religious leaders, positive and negative contributions, any possible tensions between religious leaders and state actors, as well as any limits to the scope of the role religious leaders ought to play as peacebuilders. The interview schedule also contained key words and phrases as prompts to press interviewees for further details or concrete examples to illustrate their points. Interviews were conducted online and lasted between 27 and 84 min, with the average interview time lasting between 47 and 50 min. Online interviews have benefits for both participants and researchers. For the participant, this method allows for the discussion of potentially sensitive topics within a space they feel comfortable, without needing to play host. Moreover, conducting interviews on sensitive topics online gives participants “more control over the interview [as they] can end their participation at any time” (Thunberg & Arnell, 2022, p. 763).

This control is especially useful for senior clergy, politicians and NGO executives whose busy schedules make it difficult to book a time to accommodate the researcher. For the researcher, online interviews reduce time and costs associated with travel to gather data. This may enable the researcher to widen their sample size and be more inclusive in whom they approach for interview. To generate the findings of this study, a qualitative content analysis (QCA) of the interview transcripts was made manually, following a close reading of the data. This study adopts QCA and semistructured interviews because it seeks a detailed and in-depth understanding of how research participants think and behave. While conducting the interviews, I noticed frequent reference to “the margins” and “marginalisation.” In some instances, interviewees would refer to those without political or economic resources. On other occasions, religious leaders would refer to their own institutional-level marginalization from the policy-making process. On first-reading, I coded for any references to power/powerlessness. I also coded for any reference to resources which religious leaders might lack or have access to help them work as peacebuilders. This was done because my research questions enquired as to the skills religious leaders possess to perform their role. Through second, third and fourth rounds of coding the transcripts, the following subcategories were highlighted: (1) Power, (1A) Marginalization, (1A.i) Decision-making power, (1A.ii) Non-decision-making power, (1B) Co-operative power relationships. (2) Resources, (2A) Networks, (2B) Skills and norms, (2C) Reflection on missed opportunities/underutilized peacebuilding resources, (2D) Reflection on future challenges for the use of peacebuilding resources. I included any reference to professional peacebuilding networks and/or contact religious leaders had with peacebuilders (subcategory 2A.) This was done because I had pressed interviewees for examples to support their perspective to encourage critical self-reflection and provide further detail to enrich the dataset. On third and fourth readings, I noticed that interviewees would reflect on past failures/missed opportunities to engage in peacebuilding, as well as future concerns. I, therefore, coded for these separately (subcategories 2C and 2D).

Sample

Sixteen religious leaders and 10 state actors participated in this study. Twenty-five interviewees are currently based in Northern Ireland. Of the religious leaders, (a) 15 were male and 1 was female, (b) 5 are Catholic, 2 are Presbyterian, 5 are Methodist, 3 are from the Church of Ireland, and 1 is Pentecostal, (c) one became a religious leader with a background as an academic historian of the Church, while 15 trained for the priesthood within Protestant or Catholic seminaries, (d) all received their training on the island of Ireland, (e) at least three received additional training in the United States, (f) their ages range from 40 to 88, and (g) 15 live in the communities they serve, and (h) five can be considered top-level, six are middle-range religious leaders, and five work at the grassroots. Of the 10 state actors interviewed for this study, (a) eight were male and two were female, (b) three have served in elected public office at either Westminster or Stormont, representing Labour, Sinn Fein, and the DUP, (c) five were interviewed for their position as NGO executives or employees, having worked closely with religious leaders on state-funded peacebuilding projects in Northern Ireland, (d) two state actors have worked formally and primarily as diplomats, and a further six have informally represented either parliaments or governments as mediators.

I acknowledge two methodological limitations. First is the lack of women included in the sample. In total, 142 were invited to interview, comprising of 95 men and 47 women; 88 (62%) were religious leaders, and 54 (38%) were state actors; 66 (75%) of the 88 religious leaders invited to interview were male, and 22 (25%) were female; 29 (54%) of the state actors invited to interview were male, and 25 (46%) were female. Although female priests make up only 25% of invited religious leaders, this proportion far exceeds the proportion of women serving in the profession. One reason few female priests accepted their invitation to interview was due to their passing on interview requests to more senior clergy who were predominantly men. The second limitation is the use of online interviews to draw information from interviewees. For example, “online data collection risks excluding, or creating additional burdens and considerable stress for participants who do not feel competent in the use of technology” (Carter et al., 2021, p. 713). Even for participants who possess the necessary skills, they may be “without access to fast and reliable internet…[and so] may find it difficult or less appealing to participate” (ibid). On the other hand, online interviews significantly lowered financial and scheduling constraints for both interviewee and participant, with the researcher able to offer interviewees greater flexibility to fit in with their scheduled. To mitigate this issue, participants received written instructions with minimal steps to access the online meeting.

Role 1: Representing the Views of the Marginalized

Religious leaders can log the views of those at the margins; that is, they can listen, understand, and note the verbal and nonverbal attitudes and responses of citizens to political activity that may affect the sustainability of civil peace. Some interviewees spoke of “the margins” to refer generally to those unable to fully participate in political and economic life as a result of self-perceived material and/or social exclusion. Other interviewees were more specific and across the data set, three particular marginalized populations emerged which religious leader have and do engage with: (1) decommissioning paramilitaries, (2) working class communities, and (3) politically disaffected young people under 25. Churches have developed relationships with these populations through their long-standing service as social institutions, by providing material welfare to the poorest in society, and advocating for the economic poor, especially during periods when devolved government had collapsed. This continuous presence at the grassroots has given churches and their leaders an opportunity to interact regularly with local residents and be seen by them to offer spiritual, social and material value.

Where appropriate, religious leaders may use information they log from these marginal groups to improve the planning and delivery of peacebuilding initiatives. ³ Lord Hanson ⁴ noted that religious leaders can act as “transmitters of messages” and as “conduits to the wider community,” ⁵ and to Ambassador Mitchell B. Reiss, ⁶ clerics serve as “an important source of information on the temperature of the community.” ⁷ Logging views can take place actively and openly through the scheduling of formal meetings between small groups, or entire communities, as well as passively and quietly through the observation of civil and anticivil language and attitudes within informal networks and environments. To log the views of the marginalized, religious leaders must have frequent contact with these groups in a manner in which they feel safe, respected, and heard. Religious leaders can help create these conditions through the performance of two activities: (1) conducting formal rituals, and (2) the provision of material and social welfare. When performed, these activities also enable religious leaders to lead by example through the modeling of civil behavior.

The conduct of formal rituals is a critical, public, and theatrical part of a religious leader's profession. As acknowledged by Brian Kingston MLA, religious leaders play an important role “looking after people at the critical stages of life…with…funerals, christenings, and marriages.” ⁸ Rev. Dr Gary Mason, Methodist Minister and Director of Rethinking Conflict, also noted that clergy “walk with people through baptism, through cancer, through death, [through] 101 different concepts.” ⁹ Ritual gatherings enable a regularity of contact between religious leaders and the faithful which allows them to observe the behavior and the sentiments of communities at times of extreme emotion as these gatherings can be expected, impromptu, euphoric, wretched, noisy, or silent. Critics warn however, that though public rituals afford religious leaders the chance to observe the views of others, the language and symbols of these rituals can be co-opted to strengthen anticivil bonding social capital ties, defined by Pukallus (2022, p. 107) as “exclusive bonds of cohesion and solidarity formed between…members.” The Orange processions, for example, have “metamorphosed into a focus for Protestant opposition to the peace process” (Darby & MacGinty, 2003, p. 282). Symbolic gestures can “serve to forge bonds of shared group identity and mark territory […and] typically alienate, antagonise and provoke the out-group” (Hargie & Dickson, 2003, p. 289).

Religious leaders are also able to log these views through more informal relationships with their congregants and the wider community. These interactions “are constructed by individuals” (Djupe & Gilbert, 2009, p. 10) and include “the personal relationships formed with other church members, which often overlap with church small groups and activities.” Interviewees identified these informal interactions as often taking place through the delivery of material and social welfare services such as the operation of food banks, coffee mornings, childcare centers, youth groups, choirs, and group counseling sessions. When asked to describe his role in these situations, Rev. Dr Harold Good replied: “We listen…we learn…and we love.” ¹⁰ In providing material welfare, religious leaders come into contact with those outside their congregation, exposing themselves to external social networks whose perspectives and information can prove vital to policymakers and peacebuilding practitioners seeking to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of their programs.

It is through the performance of ritual and the provision of material welfare that religious leaders are able to model civil norms, defined as “rules governing specific associative situations” (Harrison & Pukallus, 2023, p. 124). Pukallus (2022, p. 7) proposes three essential categories of civil norms; namely, “assent to civil peace…substantive civility and…building capacity and civil competencies.” I argue that religious leaders in churches and other places of religious worship, are able to exemplify and promote all three of these civil norms and in so doing, help build up civil capacities in postconflict Northern Ireland. This is possible because churches can serve as “third places” (Oldenburg, 2023); that is, a location “where individuals may come and go as they please, in which none are required to play host, and in which all feel at home and comfortable” (ibid: p. 24).

Role 2: Holding Power Accountable

Based on interviews with both state actors and religious leaders, I identified that access to and engagement with the margins also enables religious leaders to hold both politicians (democratic power) and decommissioning paramilitaries (nondemocratic power) accountable on issues of democratic renewal and weapons decommissioning. Pratchett (1999, p. 8) defines democratic renewal as the challenge of “using local [devolved] government both to educate communities in politics by giving them greater experience of political life and to stimulate democratic activity across the community.” In Northern Ireland, the most significant challenge to democratic renewal is the repeated collapse of devolved governments at Stormont. Religious leaders have worked to hold political leaders accountable for their actions. For example, the 2018–19 Church Leaders Civil Society Dialogue Initiative logged the views and concerns of 120 civil society representatives in four regional meetings across Northern Ireland on the short- and long-term consequences of a closed Stormont Assembly (CLG Report, 2019). Prepared and presented with the support of the Northern Ireland Community Relations Council (CRC), top-level religious leaders met with British, Irish and Northern Irish political leaders to discuss the findings of this dialogue, published as a report entitled “A Time for Courageous and Compassionate Leadership” ¹¹ (Community Relations Council, 2019). The Report, which is publicly available, detailed public concerns as to the effect the suspended government was having on Northern Ireland's economy and political climate. It also called on politicians to undertake “this same type of engagement, with an emphasis on relationship, listening and understanding, in order to begin to restore hope” (CRC Report, 2019: para 19).

Commenting on this example of how religious leaders have held power accountable, Dr Nicola Brady, General Secretary of Churches Together in Britain and Ireland, observed that:

“Had the potential to go horribly wrong [because]…if [there had been] any suggestion that the churches were exploiting their role or seeking to exert [influence on] the governments…that obviously would have been hugely inappropriate and would have resulted in serious reputational damage [for the churches and their leaders], and people were obviously watching for that.” ¹²

One way religious leaders hold nondemocratic power accountable is through their involvement in the decommissioning of paramilitary weapons since 1998. In 1997, the UK Parliament called for the creation of a “decommissioning scheme” (Northern Ireland Arms Decommissioning Act 1997, c. 7) that eventually became the Independent International Commission on Decommissioning (IICD). Formed of three diplomats and military officers from the United States, Canada, and Finland, the IICD oversaw the decommissioning of both loyalist and republican weaponry. Methodist minister Rev. Dr Harold Good, and Fr. Alec Reid were invited to serve as witnesses to the IICD-led PIRA decommissioning process in 2005. When asked why he had been chosen, Dr Good explained he “would have been known across these [political] lines,” and that his colleague, Fr. Reid, had focused on “working very quietly, largely in the background, within the community which he was most familiar.” ¹³ Dr Good recounted that, following PIRA's announcement that they had successfully decommissioned their weaponry, he met with all but one party leader in his home to offer further clarification and reassurance. Dr Good explained that he thought it appropriate to ask “them to come and see us on our ground,” in part, because “you feel….[more] confident about what you’re doing…It was the right way around.” ¹⁴ Dr Good said that in 2005, then-DUP leader, Iain Paisley, “was very doubtful about the whole thing…I remember [Paisley] saying, “you’re asking me to believe something I didn’t see?”” In response, Dr Good quoted the story of Doubting Thomas in the Gospel of John. ¹⁵ To this, Paisley asked why Dr Good and Fr. Reid engaged in talks with those on the margins, to which Dr Good replied: “because I want to see you…[as] the First Minister of Northern Ireland…because you have earned that place through the legitimate democratic process.” Dr Good warned Paisley that “until you take that [place] we cannot have a restored government and we cannot restore democracy.” He added, “that [conversation] helped to establish a very good relationship between himself and myself.” In another example from 2009, Rev. Dr Gary Mason hosted representatives from the Red Hand Commandos in his church so that they could make public their commitment to weapons decommissioning. ¹⁶

Role 3: Exemplifying Five Civil Skills

Role 3 is the most practical and is used by religious leaders as they work with those at the margins of civil society. The five civil skills set out here help define the role of religious leaders in peacebuilding. In addition, when religious leaders exercise these skills, they encourage others to participate too. The five civil skills are (a) principled leadership, (b) partnership, (c) expressing pity, (d) maintaining privacy, and (e) persuasion. These civil skills contribute to sustainable peace in two ways. First, they help religious leaders build strong bridging ties with other peacebuilders so that information can be logged and—if appropriate—shared more effectively. Alternatively put, these five civil skills help “greas[e] the wheels that allow communities to advance more smoothly” (Bourdieu, 1986, p. 22–23).

Second, exemplifying these five civil skills sets an example for others to follow. Encouraging former enemies to change their norms of behavior is essential as peacebuilders must “influence directly the behaviour of people in the host society” (Whalan, 2014, p. 49) to move collectively from a state of negative to positive peace. Edwards (2004: 49) also makes clear that “the achievement of the good society requires…norms of behaviour that infuse institutions with values-based energy and direction.” As such, these behavioral norms enable religious leaders to form part of a broader coalition of nonstate peacebuilders. They also encapsulate (i) what religious leaders do to maintain civil peace, and (ii) how religious leaders engage with marginalized populations, build trust, develop bridging social capital ties, and seek to include those who have become or have always identified as alienated from the peace process.

Principled Leadership

First, religious leaders exercise principled leadership, defined by Shelton (2009, p. 6) as “leading people based on a set of ‘true north’ principles and ‘natural laws.’” Appleby (2000, p. 169) explains that “religions are capable of providing a cultural foundation for peace in their respective societies,” and the principled leadership religious leaders offer both shapes and constitutes part of that cultural foundation. For example, interviewees explained that acting with integrity was central to the building of trust between religious leaders and those at the margins of civil society. One religious leader named their personal and professional integrity as essential to their dealing with “a lot of the leadership of Republicanism” as tensions ran high in the time between the murder and funeral service of a victim of paramilitary violence. ¹⁷ Rev. Dr Harold Good also cited the integrity of his fellow witness to the Provisional IRA's decommissioning in 2005, Fr. Alec Reid, as a reason why Fr. Reid was able to “wor[k] very quietly…in the background…literally carrying messages in his pocket at times, from one [side] to the other…with…great integrity and great passion.” ¹⁸ Connected with integrity is the capacity for religious leaders to exercise a central component of principled leadership: truth-telling. A religious leader who mediated with republican leaders, for example, explained: “a lot of the time, people can’t handle the truth” and that if peacebuilders “cannot believe [that] what [they're] doing is the truth, then [they] have no place” in the process. ¹⁹ The religious leader went on to explain that a desire to tell the truth enabled him to put himself “in enormous danger on many occasions. I used to wear a bulletproof vest. I lived under threat from both sides of the community.”

Another mid-level Catholic priest identified the continuing existence of disobedience in civil society as an area where principled leadership is needed. The religious leader reported that during the Troubles “community leaders…taught their people to disobey. What's happening though…now is that [the] disobedience bred into the people is also now being reflected back at the community leaders.” In Northern Ireland, a vacuum in national political leadership has further raised the importance of unelected leaders in civil society stepping in and providing a form of principled leadership needed to help organize peacebuilding interventions and set an example for others.

To exercise this kind of principled leadership, peacebuilders require a degree of separation and agency from formal decision-making powers (Lukes 2005). As one grassroots-level religious leader outlined:

“You have to be willing to get [peacebuilding interventions] wrong. You have to be willing to alienate people. You have to be willing to be able to take it in the neck, to take the abuse, to take the criticism because the moment you put your head above the parapet…all of that comes upon you.” - Serving priest, Belfast.

One challenge of religious leaders using their position to exemplify principled leadership is the potential for principled leadership to devolve into divisive dogma. As put by Rev. Dr Good, religious leaders “are supposed to be custodians of a particular understanding of truth and…our values and our standards, and that's a huge barrier for some people.” An ongoing challenge for religious peacebuilders is to ensure their use of principled leadership remains constructive and inclusive of others beyond their faith. This open attitude was best summarized by Fr. Paddy McCafferty, who argued religious leaders ought to “work with anyone with goodwill…anyone who has the good of the community at heart.” ²⁰

Partnership

One way integrity, truth-telling and other kinds of principled leadership remain constructive and peace-oriented is through the exercise of partnership. Partnership enables religious leaders to put their social capital resources (Putnam, 2000) to use to guarantee a “flow of helpful information” (ibid, p. 289) between religious leaders, state actors, and marginalized communities. For example, religious and secular interviewees recounted examples of partnerships developed in public and private. In particular, the Decade of Centenaries (2012–23) proved a unique opportunity for the building and display of bridging ties between political parties and religious denominations. For example, from December 2018 to February 2019, national leaders of the Anglican, Catholic, Presbyterian, and Methodist churches worked with the CRC to host “dialogue events” which “focused on the consequences of the political impasse and ways in which political leaders and civil society could work together for the common good” (CRC, 2020). A report, drawing together the findings which emerged from these dialogues, was presented by church leaders to the Secretary of State, Tánaiste and the leaders of Northern Ireland's main political parties (ibid).

In addition to these substantive partnerships, religious leaders are also able to build and exemplify symbolic partnerships with each other, and with secular peacebuilders. An alternative example of partnership is that of the Irish Council of Churches (ICC), a “formal national body through which our member churches formally engage, dialogue and act on a wide variety of issues” (ICC, 2025). Founded in January 1923, the ICC is organized by an Interchurch Committee which meets four times a year. Rev. David Turtle ²¹ made clear “church leaders speaking together with one voice” is a useful contribution to peacebuilding, and which “politicians…feel [is]…significant.” ²² Describing both his Methodist faith, and the example of the Church Leaders Group, Rev. Turtle explained “we see ourselves as those who can advocate for others.” Distinguishing religious leaders from state actors, Rev. Dr Gary Mason pointed out that unlike state actors, religious leaders can often engage in partnership more easily because they “don't have to use linguistic violence to assassinate another person. We can disagree in quiet spaces and sacred space[s].”

Expressing Pity

Pity can be understood as “a kind of pain excited by the sight of evil…which befalls one who does not deserve it” (Aristotle. Rh. 2.8.2, 2020[1926]). Early Christians helped transform the concept into something positive by “generating a whole new piety out of pity, setting unprecedented standards of generosity, hospitality, and unconditional charity” (Blowers, 2010, p. 3). Pity can be exercised in a manner that is both constructive and obstructive to the achievement of sustainable civil peace, depending on the form of power that exists between peacebuilders. For example, in coercive “power-over” (Karlberg 2005) relationships where power is asymmetrical and actors lack agency, the expression of pity can reinforce and serve to remind the marginalized of their disempowered state.

Alternatively, pity within co-operative “power-with” relationships (ibid) can be expressed as a form of compassion and empathy that has the potential to voluntarily strengthen bridging ties. In the context of postconflict Northern Ireland, pity is a useful skill because it involves the recognition of the suffering of the marginalized. Recognition requires perspective-taking, namely for “an individual to anticipate the behaviour and reactions of others therefore, facilitating smoother and more rewarding interpersonal relationships” (Davis, 1983, p. 115). Rev. Dr Good explained that he is able to exercise pity by sitting:

“with people who are diametrically different thinking from me [politically], and still, be the carer; be the shepherd, and make them know that even though we may differ diametrically on how we view the world around us, that I do care about them, and that we want to share our conversation and our journey together.” ²³

This role is of particular importance in Northern Ireland because it has not experienced a formal truth and reconciliation process as part of an organized, national mission to seek restorative justice. In lieu, religious leaders host alternative forums that encourage the public exercise of pity and the strengthening of what Alexander (2006, p. 31) calls a “solidary community.” Bishop Andrew Forster asserted that public remembrance services are a key way religious leaders can ensure “we can never forget what [the Troubles] has been like.” Relating this to the exercise of pity, Forster explained that “remembrance can also bring that sense of value to those who are victims, to know what they [went] through, and what they continue to go through is acknowledged…[and] honoured by the wider community.”

Maintaining Privacy

Religious leaders are able to maintain privacy in their peacebuilding work and ministry. Maintaining privacy refers specifically to the capacity for religious leaders to undertake and sustain confidential dialogues with those on the margins in their role as mediators before and after the GFA. This skill was widely recognized by both religious leaders and secular state actors interviewed. For example, Colm Gildernew MLA, cited “an understanding of confidentiality” ²⁴ as one reason religious leaders make effective peacebuilding partners for governments. Rev Dr. Gary Mason said that religious leaders are trusted and able to operate in “quiet spaces and sacred spaces,” while Dr Nicola Brady, General Secretary of Churches Together in Britain and Ireland, acknowledged the capacity for religious leaders to engage in “quiet dialogues with people [to] sound people out” and “test the space” for new agreements, partnerships and initiatives. ²⁵

One reason religious leaders can earn this trust and exercise the skill of maintaining privacy is because they receive training in how to facilitate conversations, especially those which engage in sensitive and contentious subject matter. Although, as recognized by Rev. Dr Laurence Graham, ²⁶ religious leaders “don’t [always] have the answer to whatever's going on that's causing distress, they’re [there] sitting, listening, [and] reflecting” with others. ²⁷ Since the GFA, religious leaders continue to exercise this civil skill through their regular grassroots ministry, and public trust in the capacity for religious leaders to keep confidential conversations private enables those on the political margins to make contact. For example, one grassroots religious leader reported that when:

“a senior loyalist [in my area] was attacked. His wife immediately sent for me. Over six weeks, I took time with him et cetera….You build human relationships with people [from] those ongoing crises of life, and there's not a lot of professions that can do that…So we’re probably still one of the few professions globally…[who] can knock on someone's door, or ring someone's bell…That's a privilege actually.”

The ability for religious leaders, before and after the GFA, to exercise this skill is evidence that they can “manage…individual negative emotions” (Pukallus, 2022, p. 9) and exemplify what Pukallus calls “emotional forbearance” (ibid). Building a peace-oriented relationship with those on the margins and gaining access to their views and other information useful to peacebuilding, represents a form of non-decision-making power (Lukes, 1986). This function, fulfilled by religious leaders, gives them a mediatory role between former enemies, as well as between those on the margins of civil society, and those with direct or indirect access to decision-making power and control over public policy.

Persuasion

The fifth civil skill is persuasion. I identify three groups which religious leaders have sought to persuade or help them persuade others as part of their role as peacebuilders. These are: (a) decommissioning paramilitary groups, (b) elected political leaders, and (c) their own congregations. Religious leaders explained that, when working with decommissioning paramilitary groups, they first sought to secure an acceptance of and a commitment to the peace process. This commitment amounted to the fulfilment of the first two of Pukallus’ (2022, p. 7) three categories of civil norms; namely, assent to civil peace and substantive civility. It was possible for religious leaders to secure this commitment, Dr Nicola Brady argued, because of:

“The language that religious leaders bring [to discussions]…that [which] can help frame conversations in a way that is more likely to lead to a coming together at least. The language of neighbours, the language of forgiveness, [and] the language of love.” ²⁸

Another religious leader who facilitates regular, informal group discussion/counseling sessions between former combatants made clear that “forgiveness from a Christian perspective” is also a vital means of persuading participants to recommit themselves to peaceful coexistence. This form of forgiveness, the religious leader explained, is about “accepting [that] what has happened has happened, but it's also about accepting the fact that you cannot embrace or even give out true forgiveness unless there's [a] genuine repentance.” When asked how they know this repentance to be genuine, the religious leader said they “look for a change in attitude and…mindset, and a genuine desire to change how [the former combatant] moves forward.” With this commitment in place, religious leaders have assisted decommissioning paramilitary groups in persuading the wider population that their repentance is genuine and unwavering. For example, Rev. Dr Gary Mason explained that in June 2009:

“The Red Hand Commandos did their weapons decommissioning statement at my church. Again, some people weren’t comfortable with it. My argument was, well, if you go on YouTube and search for terrorist groups, let me see what you will find. You will find people with guns, with terrorist symbols behind their heads. The day the statement was read, it was read in the church hall from the church lectern.” ²⁹

Here, Rev. Dr Mason understood it would be more persuasive and appropriate for the loyalist paramilitary group to make their public statement in a “third place” (Oldenberg, 2023) that is recognizable and accessible, yet solemn.

Religious leaders have also tried to persuade politicians to recommit to the political institutions established under the GFA. These interactions, often between the most senior church leaders and politicians, have taken place privately and in public. For example, in October 2018, the leaders of Northern Ireland's main churches met in private with Secretary of State Karen Bradley to discuss the restoration of a devolved government after over 600 days of direct rule (Davenport & McCormack, 2018). In May 2019, senior church leaders made a public statement at the Stormont Estate and called for politicians to show “courageous leadership” (McCormack, 2019) and end the deadlock. One month earlier, speaking at the funeral of murdered journalist Lyra McKee, Fr. Martin Magill observed that though it was encouraging to see the political leaders of Northern Ireland together, “Why in God's name does it take the death of a 29-year-old woman with her whole life in front of her to get to this point?” (Noor, 2019).

Conclusion

Using 26 semistructured interviews with religious leaders and secular state actors, I have argued that religious leaders can (1) log the views of those at the margins, (2) hold power accountable, and (3) exemplify five civil skills. Though they are not the only peacebuilders able to exemplify these three roles, this capacity, taken in conjunction with access to the margins of civil society, and the social capital reserves which arise from this access, gives them a unique and valuable role in supporting the continuing peace process.

For practitioners, this typology can help increase awareness of how religious leaders have and continue to complement efforts by politicians, diplomats, and other state actors to “restore…state institutions” and “address the socioeconomic dimensions of the conflict” (Barnett et al., 2007, p. 49). For clergy, this typology of roles may encourage them to consider their own hard and soft skills in communities experiencing sudden social stresses, or prolonged violent conflict. For scholars, this typology of peacebuilding roles improves our knowledge of three areas. First, we gain a better understanding of how religious leaders conceive of their own role and contribution to protecting the peace. Second, understanding these three roles can reveal ways religious leaders and other third sector actors can deploy their non-decision-making power (Lukes, 1986) in postconflict environments. Third, oral accounts of top-level negotiations and facilitation, especially between senior clerics and politicians involved in paramilitary decommissioning, represent a vital contribution to our shared historical record of this period in Northern Ireland's postconflict history.

Anonymized Information

• All interviews were conducted online by Tom Parkin (the author).

• The data collected for this research forms part of the author's doctoral thesis, itself funded by the School of Journalism, Media and Communication, The University of Sheffield, and The University of Sheffield's Faculty of Social Science Research Support Scheme.