In an historic vote the Irish--north and south--turn their troubled history toward reconciliation

By BARRY HILLENBRAND /BELFAST

he recent history of Ireland has been so full of turning points that it often resembled a maze with no exit. Last week the Irish once again took one of those historic turns, ardently hoping that this time it would lead into a straight path toward peace. A solid 71% of the voters in Northern Ireland and more than 90% of those in the Irish Republic showed their approval of the Northern Ireland peace agreement. The wide margin of approval coupled with heavy turnouts in both parts of the divided island boded well for success of the agreement. The mere fact that all of the people of Ireland, North and South, Catholic and Protestant, voting together for the first time in 80 years, agreed upon a plan of action is fundamentally encouraging. Surely it is historic. It may well be that the power of the ballot box has overcome the terror of the bomb, and that an end is in sight to the hurt and anger that ensued when the island was partitioned in 1921.

Getting to last week's yes vote was not easy. The euphoria generated when the political parties reached an agreement in Belfast in April was quickly lost when the document was thrown for approval into the snake pit of Northern Ireland politics. Oddly, the main source of controversy was not the complex new system of government for the North, which required eight months of tortuous negotiation. Rather, the bitter and acrimonious debates that raged in countless public forums--as well as in pubs and homes all around the province--centered almost entirely on emotional issues, not constitutional ones. Citizens argued endlessly over the wisdom of releasing prisoners convicted of terrorist crimes before the completion of their sentences. Voters fretted over the timetable for surrendering weapons held by paramilitary organizations like the Irish Republican Army and over the possibility that politicians like Gerry Adams, president of Sinn Fein, the political wing of the I.R.A., might rise to top positions in the new government. Fearmongers like Ian Paisley, leader of the Democratic Unionist Party, urged voters to reject the agreement because it was "evil and nefarious" and ran counter to the will of God. The problem for him and some other unionists is that the agreement threatens the political power Protestants once enjoyed. Paisley was aided by the ineptitude of Adams, who paraded a band of notorious I.R.A. terrorists in front of a Sinn Fein party convention--a show of triumphalism which seriously damaged the resolve of those Protestants who supported the agreement.

The "Yes" campaign was an odd amalgam of forces. U.S. President Bill Clinton sent his best wishes for victory. British Prime Minister Tony Blair flew in three times to campaign for a yes vote. The Irish band U2 held a rock concert for it in Belfast, and after singing a rendition of John Lennon's Give Peace a Chance, Bono ushered on stage David Trimble, leader of Ulster's largest Protestant party, and John Hume, leader of the largest Catholic party, surely the oddest and most uncomfortable couple ever to accept the cheers of a mosh pit filled with 2,000 teenagers. For people of the Republic, approving the agreement and abrogating their claim to the six counties of the North was relatively uncomplicated. Ambitions in Dublin these days center around participation in a prosperous Europe, not in eliminating an increasingly irrelevant border between Northern Ireland and the Republic.

In the end it was reason--often a rare commodity in Ireland--that won the day. Voters, both North and South, accepted the agreement because it was based on the most cherished of democratic ideals: the right of consent. The future of Northern Ireland, the agreement says, will be determined only by what the people in the North wish. And that, it turns out, maybe the simplest way out of the maze of a difficult history.