Remembering John Hume

Since news of John Hume’s death emerged yesterday (3 August 2020), there has been an outpouring of obituaries and tributes to the man who is considered the architect of peace in Northern Ireland. These were immediate, as is the case with obituaries of key figures in society, and Hume has not been a well man for some time. Obituaries play a key role in how individuals and their legacies are remembered after their death, and can be considered as sites of collective memory. Bridget Fowler describes obituaries as ‘the first stab at biography’ but far from being a series of random recollections of individuals, obituaries represent the activities of social or collective memory. The idea that these obituaries and tributes will be the ‘first stab’ at writing about John Hume’s life seems strange for a man of whom no less than seven books have been written (including two by Hume himself) as well as many journal articles, documentaries, and op ed pieces about him. In many ways, the memory and legacy of Hume has been shaped for a while now. His name has become synonymous with ‘peacemaker’ in Ireland, north and south, as well as further afield.

Out of the seven men (‘the magnificent seven’ as they were termed) who came together to form the SDLP in August 1970, John Hume was the sixth to die (Austin Currie is now the only surviving founding member). In the obituaries of the other five men (certainly Fitt, Devlin, O’Hanlon and Cooper), their early activism in the civil rights movement was what was emphasised most in their obituaries, their contributions to the party they helped to form taking second place. This is probably unsurprising given that all bar Hume had either left the party or were on its periphery by the time Hume became leader in 1979. The party dedicates a section of its website to John Hume (not Gerry Fitt, who was their first leader) and it is clear from internal party documents that Hume shaped much of their early thinking on many issues, moulding it towards social democracy and nationalism, and gradually sidelining the ‘labour’.

He was the only founding member of the party who continued to be deeply involved in Northern Irish politics throughout the 1980s and 1990s, and became a well thought of figure on the international stage, both in Brussels and in Washington. No other figure in recent Northern Irish history commands such longevity and recognition (bar perhaps Gerry Adams, although Hume is much less controversial and more universally liked across all spectrums of political opinion).

Central to the obituaries of Hume is his contribution to peace in Northern Ireland, his dedication to the Good Friday Agreement, and his ability to sacrifice much personally for the greater good. Often called a statesman because of his willingness to confront the Provisional IRA and speak to Sinn Féin in the late 1980s when they were persona non grata, I believe Hume was more pragmatic than statesmanlike here. He believed that instead of allowing Sinn Féin to shout from the side lines and disrupt any political negotiations that were taking place, that if they were brought into the process, they would collapse under it and the SDLP could be the spokespeople for northern nationalism without problems. This was not the case of course, but I do not believe Hume saw that coming.

It is difficult right now to offer any criticisms of Hume so his memory will be shaped by, and enshrined in, a saintly quality. Hopefully in the future, we can see him in the round, flaws and all, as it does not take away from his many, many achievements. But that is for future historians. For now, we say thank you, John, and rest easy.

Sarah Campbell is a Senior Lecturer in Irish and British History at Newcastle University. Her monograph, Gerry Fitt and the SDLP: ‘In a minority of one’ was published by Manchester University Press in 2015.

Soapbox

This is a guest slot to give a platform for new writers either as a one off, or a prelude to becoming part of the regular Slugger team.