The controversy occupying the media over the legacy of
Martin McGuinness is nothing new. It seems to suggest that people need to
pigeon-hole the notable dead in a binary way. They must either be “a Good Thing”
or “a Bad Thing” in a Sellars and Yeatman history. But how many people are
really either good or bad, saint or sinner? Throughout history great impact has
been made by figures whom you might not want to leave alone with a family
member. Even the very great may have feet of clay. Occasional media surveys to
identify “greatest Briton” regularly turn up Oliver Cromwell and Winston
Churchill as candidates but both had bloody escutcheons. Then there are the “terrorists”
turned “statesmen”, the judgement of whom depends as much on one’s political
allegiance as on objectivity: Castro; Begin; Arafat; Mao and so many more.
Even in more peaceful arenas those on a pedestal of
achievement may have pretty undesirable traits. Artists like Picasso, Simenon
and Gill, whose work is so special, would not win many feminist votes; whilst
Caravaggio, an artist of pivotal importance was a convicted murderer.
Gladstone, Lloyd George, Major; and further afield Kennedy,
Clinton, Mitterand, to name but a few, were far from pure when it came to
behaviour yet remain respected in the rear-view mirror of politics. Perhaps
hindsight, though, only works after memories had dimmed of the misdemeanours
and when the legacies have been seen to have been sustained over time. One
suspects that McGuinness will remain in the history books as the first
republican power-sharing minister of Northern Ireland, whilst the number who
cannot forgive his violent past will dwindle. Like everybody, he was not one
thing or the other but a human being with different sides to his life which
made him who he was. Perhaps we have to accept that there is a price to be aid
for the Good Things.
