Gendering War and Peace

Abstract

There has been extensive academic analysis of Northern Ireland’s ethnonationalist antagonisms. However, academic literature that has explored both the region’s ethno-nationalist conflict and its more recent processes of conflict transformation has neglected the concept of masculinities. This article employs the framework of critical studies of men/masculinities to analyze why men’s gendered identities have received so little attention in a society that is marked by deep gendered inequalities and also exposes the consequences of this neglect in terms of exploring gendered power relationships in Northern Ireland society. Additionally, the article employs the concept of militarized masculinities to explore the relationships between ethnonationalist conflict, conflict transformation, men’s gendered identities, and gender power in the region.

Keywords

demilitarization masculinities Northern Ireland conflict transformation

The sectarian divisions in Northern Ireland between Unionists and Irish Republicans have a long history. The partition of Ireland in 1920 divided the country into the Free State later renamed the Republic of Ireland which attained sovereign autonomy from Britain and the smaller region of Northern Ireland which remained under British sovereignty. Since partition Unionists in Northern Ireland have been determined to maintain the constitutional link with the United Kingdom, although they have sometimes questioned the British Government’s commitment to protecting Northern Ireland’s constitutional status. In the past, some elements of Unionism have flirted with the notion of an independent Northern Ireland (see Porter 1996). Irish Republicans have sought to achieve the political reunification of Ireland. Heightened political antagonism between these ethnonationalist groups from the late 1960s led to nearly thirty years of low-intensity paramilitary violence. The most important Irish Republican paramilitary group has been the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA). The most active pro-Unionist paramilitary groups, usually termed Loyalists rather than Unionists, have been the Ulster Volunteer Force and the Ulster Defence Association. The Agreement signed in Belfast on Good Friday in 1998 inaugurated a political framework for transforming the conflict in the region (see Aughey 2008).

Since the signing of what became known locally as the Agreement, ethnonationalist antagonisms have remained strong, and there have been intermittent episodes of political violence. However, the Agreement set in motion a number of political developments that have significantly reduced overt political violence. Consequently, Northern Ireland has become framed as a highly successful model of conflict transformation (see Powell 2008; see also Finlay 2011). Recent conflict transformational processes in the region have been subjected to much academic inquiry. From a feminist perspective, it is interesting to note that the extensive body of mainstream scholarship that has mapped political transitions in Northern Ireland has viewed the study of masculinities as having little or no theoretical utility. This article engages with the mainstream’s relative neglect of masculinities in Northern Ireland. It begins by examining why masculinities have been marginalized by mainstream political analysts in the region. Drawing on the conceptual resources of critical studies of men/masculinities, it employs the concept of militarized masculinity/masculinities to expose the relationship between conflict, conflict transformation, men’s identities, and gender power in the region.¹

Gender Politics and Northern Ireland Politics

Nationalisms, as feminists have continued to highlight, are highly gendered ideologies (see e.g., Peterson 1999). However, the traditional frameworks employed by mainstream analyses of deeply divided ethnonationalist societies have ignored the gendered dimensions of ethnonationalisms which has meant that women’s identities, roles, and positioning in these societies have been rendered invisible. Additionally, feminists have contended that men’s political and social dominance in ethnonationalist societies has been framed as normal and natural by mainstream research (see Parpart and Zalewski 2008). As discussed below, in Northern Ireland, mainstream scholarship has largely ignored or dismissed feminist perspectives on ethnonationalist conflict, and this has implications for the generation of critical studies of men/masculinities in that context. Additionally, the actual processes of conflict transformation have prioritized inequalities relating to ethnonationalist identities and marginalized other identities.

Analyzing the Conflict

Interrogations of masculinities tend to emerge in academic and political environments marked by well-developed feminist agendas (see Ashe 2007b). Feminism in Northern Ireland is composed of a vibrant but slightly fragmented network of community groups, nongovernmental organizations, and academics. This network has driven forward a gender equality agenda and has highlighted the effects of ethnic conflict on women in the region (e.g. Aretxaga 1997; Ashe 2008; Corcoran 2007; Davis and Roulston 2000; Dowler 1998). Regardless of the efforts of feminists to develop different forms of gender politics in Northern Ireland, the intellectual and political space for interrogations of gender remain limited which in turn impacts the possibilities of developing critical explorations of men/masculinities. Mainstream social scientists and analysts working in the area of Northern Ireland politics have largely ignored feminist frameworks and scholarship. For example, Zalewski (2005) notes that in their examination of methods that can be applied to Northern Irish politics, two highly influential scholars, McGarry and O’Leary (1995), view feminism as the least adequate and therefore “least favoured approach” (p. 210).

The dominant focus in research on conflict and conflict transformational processes in Northern Ireland tends to prioritize mapping and “solving” ethnonationalist antagonisms and this focus tends to push gendered research even further than is usual on to the margins of mainstream social science. In short, political research in Northern Ireland has been concerned with a set of “hard” political issues such as the decommissioning of weapons and the arrangements for political power sharing examined through the application of traditional theoretical frameworks (see Byrne 2001 for outline of these frameworks). The dominance of matters pertaining to solving the “national question” in academic research is not particularly conducive to explorations of other forms of inequality or social antagonism across gender, sexuality, and race. In this political and intellectual environment, prioritizing a set of issues relating to women has been feminism’s most urgent task. Consequently, feminists and scholars interested in gender analysis in Northern Ireland have shown less interest in masculinities compared to those in other geographical contexts (exceptions include Bairner 1999a, 1999b; Dowler 2001; Feldman 1991; Lysaght 2002; McDowell 2008; Sharoni 2000; see also Jackson 1979 and Finlay 1987).

Mainstream scholars in Northern Ireland tend to view critical studies of men/masculinities as theoretically limited and partial. Moreover, in an academic context characterized by research concerned with finding solutions to the conflict, critical analyses of men/masculinities appear to offer little hope of furnishing a model of conflict transformation (see e.g., McGarry and O’Leary 1995), and for the mainstream, appear irrelevant to processes of conflict transformation. Even during the period when the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition had a high media profile as an electoral party intent on exposing the relationship between gender issues and conflict transformation, only one writer in the region raised the issue of men’s identities in terms of analyzing key developments in the processes of conflict transformation (Bairner 1999b).

Bairner (1999a) commenting on the mainstream’s neglect of masculinity notes that mainstream “writers guilty of ignoring the subject (masculinity) might argue that from 1969 to 1994, sectarianism rather than any other source of division not only dominated the political scene but was also directly responsible for the deaths of 3, 172 people” (p. 285). However, he also insists that this conclusion “ignores the irrefutable facts that during almost thirty years of violence, men have done the vast bulk of the killing (as well a large proportion of the dying)” (p. 285). Additionally, the region has been dominated by male institutions, rituals, organizations, standpoints, and styles of political engagement (Racioppi and O’Sullivan See 2000). Researchers have analyzed men as politicians, community leaders, and combatants. Subsequently, the “category of men remains at the centre of discourse” (Hearn 1998, 786), but men’s gender identities remain underexplored.

Critical studies of men/masculinities provide a framework for engaging with masculinities during times of political transition (Hearn and Morgan 1990; Hearn 1997). By framing masculinities as culturally constituted through gender power, it focuses analysts on mapping the way that relationships of power between gendered subjects are depoliticized and sidelined from political and social debates. One of the core concerns of critical studies of men is to ensure that investigations of masculinities during times of transition are not solely concerned with the effects of these transitions on men/masculinities (Hearn 1997). Instead, the adoption of this framework demands that the effects of transitions on women and broader networks of power are prioritized. The guiding aims of critical studies of men are reflected in a range of analyses of masculinities in transition (see Ashe 2007b for overview). These studies have traced the effects of social and political change on masculinities, women, and gendered networks of power. Particular studies have illustrated how transitions in masculinities during times of social change have operated to re-anchor men’s power in shifting and changing social contexts (see e.g., Kimmel 1996).

Gendered transitions in countries such as Russia have emerged through a different set of political forces. However, explorations of how men’s identities in that context moved from the bureaucratic masculinities of the Communist regime toward new entrepreneurial masculinities have suggested that this shift preserved men’s dominance in private and public spheres (Meshcherkina 2000). In the Northern Ireland context, the dynamics of the peace process opened briefly a space for exploring men’s traditional identities and power. As discussed below, the actual implementation of the Agreement eventually narrowed the space for exploring gender issues, including the issue of how traditional forms of masculinities were undergoing processes of change.

Masculinities and the Peace Agreement

In the period prior to the signing of the Agreement, contestations emerged around men’s dominance in the formal political arena and “masculinist” models of ethnonationalist politics based on the aggressive defense of community rights (see Ashe 2007c). Concerns that the peace talks were going to be dominated by men and would squeeze out issues relating to other identities such as gendered identities, generated the formation of the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition (Fearon 1999). Originally a political party with an all women membership, the Coalition as it became known formed in 1996 in response to the underrepresentation of women in the all-party talks that took place in the run up to the signing of the Agreement. The Coalition’s key aims included, increasing the political presence of women in the developing peace process, placing women on an equal footing with men with regard to making political progress, and to achieve a stable accommodation between the antagonist groups through a dialogic and participatory approach (Fearon 1999; Dobrowolsky 2002, 313). The Coalition’s approach to negotiations contrasted with that of the main ethnonationalist political parties based on the “masculinist” ideals of competition, hostility, and a determination not “to give an inch” in the negotiations. It had two members elected to the Forum for Political Understanding and Dialogue, and in 1998 succeeded in winning two seats to the new Northern Ireland Assembly (Fearon 1999).

The hostility toward members of the Coalition during the peace negotiations exposed the dominance of traditional masculinities based on sexism and the sidelining of women and alternative political approaches to traditional male-dominated models. The women faced distasteful and sexist comments from particular men in the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP). During a debate in the Forum for Political Understanding and Dialogue, a DUP member made “moo” noises while a Coalition member was speaking (Dobrowolsky 2002, 313). The Coalition did contribute to building consensus around contentious political issues. Additionally, it highlighted the underrepresentation of women in politics and framed a dialogic form of politics. As the process of conflict transformation developed, both ethnonationalist communities became concerned with the protection of ethnic group interests, and as outlined below the Agreement structured a peace process that filtered out gendered issues. The Coalition lost its last seat in the Assembly in 2005. The party ended in 2006.

The Agreement that emerged from the negotiations was based on consociational principles which included a cross-community, power-sharing executive, minority veto rights, and cultural respect for both communities. It was produced through elite negotiations and “was devoid of genuine citizen involvement” (Tonge 2005, 36). One of the weaknesses of the consociational model of conflict transformation is that it reinforces rather than challenges the primacy of ethnonationalist identities in the new democratic structures. This model means that political elites focus on securing ethnonationalist rights as voters tend to judge parties in relation to their effectiveness in protecting ethnic bloc interests. Therefore, consociational arrangements suppress the recognition of identities as plural and multiple and conceal how ethnonationalist identities are also ethnogendered identities cut across by class, age, sexuality, and so on. Additionally, top down conflict transformational processes tend to suppress the influence of critical voices at grassroots levels including those of women’s groups.

The intervention of the Coalition and its demise illustrates the problems surrounding maintaining the presence of gender issues in Northern Ireland politics. As a cross-community party based on dialogue rather than representing one ethnonationalist group’s interests, it was accused of having little to contribute to the negotiations between hardened sectarian interests. The subsequent process of consociational power-sharing in Northern Ireland meant that elections became dominated by ethnic group rights and the Coalition could not successfully contest elections.

The difficulties of developing critical discussions around gender identities, and masculinities in particular, continue in Northern Ireland. However, if the theory of identities as intersectional is taken seriously, then feminist analysis in the form of critical studies of men/masculinities has much to offer in terms of analyzing political changes that are not reduced solely to ethnonationalist identities. The Agreement created new political and social structures based on ethnonationalist rights, but it also shifted politics in Northern Ireland, although not completely, toward democratic as opposed to violent forms of ethnonationalist antagonisms; a transition that had implications for men’s traditional roles. Critical studies of men/masculinities encourage explorations of these changes tracing their effects on men, women, and relationships of gender power. The next section maps traditional models of masculinities in Northern Ireland to assess some specific transitions in masculinities during the conflict transformational period and their effects. Given the depth of political conflict that characterized the region, traditional models of masculinities often had militarized dimensions. Research by scholars engaged in critical analyses of militarized masculinities are useful resources when examining these traditional masculinities (see Higate 2003b for overview).

Militarized Masculinities in Northern Ireland

Kovitz (2003) has correctly observed that while there is no universal gendered division of labor in war, war and conflict are highly gendered and military roles tend to be constituted as normative for men as opposed to women. In Northern Ireland while women have taken up combatant roles, however women combatants have been small in number (see Alison 2004; Dowler 1998). As scholars have noted, while women do take up military roles, the theater of military combat is not viewed as an arena for the achievement of normative femininity (see Higate 2003a). In Northern Ireland, Dowler (1998) found that women ex-combatants were treated with suspicion and their contribution to the military campaign quickly forgotten. Ethnonationalist discourses tend to frame women’s roles as maternal and domestic (see Yuval-Davis and Anthias 1989) and this has been the case in Northern Ireland (see Ashe 2006, 2007a, 2007c; Davis and Roulston 2000). In contrast, men have been associated with public arenas and traditionally dominated military organizations.

Theorists have employed the terms militarized masculinities to refer to the types of identities that militarized societies and organizations constitute for men (see e.g., Higate 2000a, 2000b). Some writers (e.g., Nagel 1998) have argued that militarized models of masculinities draw from a more general stock of ideas about what constitutes “manly” traits, aspirations, and behaviors and connects them to the struggle for national liberation. Nagel (1998) writes that the culture of nationalism is constructed to resonate with masculine cultural themes. Terms like honor, patriotism, cowardice, bravery, and duty, she claims, are hard to distinguish as either nationalist or masculinist, “since they seem so thoroughly tied both to the nation and to manliness” (p. 252; see also Mosse 1996). When these ideals are connected to physical force nationalist struggles, masculinity and violence become fused. Duty, discipline, and armed struggle become the elements of militarized forms of masculinity in antagonistic ethnonationalist cultures. Moreover, some theorists have argued that those militarized masculinities become dominant or hegemonic models of masculinity in nationalist cultures and act as arenas for “achieving” masculinities (see Higate 2003a for overview).

In Northern Ireland during the period of overt conflict, different forms of militarized masculinities were constituted through the political, social, and cultural contours of Northern Irish society. These masculinities expose the intersectionality of men’s identities in the region, as ethnonationalist identity and class, and often age, impacted the kinds of militarized roles that attracted particular groups of men. Militarized masculinities as highlighted below were integral to the maintenance of gendered relationships. These identities have also been arenas of struggle and contestation, and as later sections of this article illustrate contestations have also marked the reconstitution of masculinities in post–Agreement Northern Ireland.

Militarized Masculinities and the Northern Ireland Conflict

After partition, the struggles around the constitutional status of Northern Ireland generated a range of militarized roles for men. The B Specials, for example, were established in 1920 as a reserve counterinsurgency police force in Northern Ireland. It was an exclusively Protestant and male volunteer police force that was organized on military lines; it was colloquially known as the B Men. The creation of this “armed militia” provided the Unionist government in Northern Ireland at the time with a means to try to bring the sectarianism of militant working-class Protestant men in the context of high unemployment under the control of a military organization (Bew, Gribbon, and Patterson 1996, 27). The B Specials drew Protestant, proletarian men in to an all male milieu for defending Unionist political hegemony in Northern Ireland which had the effect of fostering solidarity between Protestant men from different social classes in defense of the nation.

Additionally, it afforded Protestant men a way to perform their perceived masculine duty of protecting the nation by providing a vehicle for the strong assertion of Protestant manliness that could prevent “invasion” by Irish republicans. The B Specials gave working-class Protestant men a role in the protection of the state and the Protestant community thereby associating men with the public sphere. Women remained the “soft underbelly” of the community in need of protection. The Protestant community viewed the B Men as proud protectors of the Protestant people.

The Catholic community reviled the B specials, and associated the force with vigilantism, brutality, and terror (Belfast Media 2009). The B Men were framed as an expression of reckless hypermasculinity based on the mentality of the sectarian mob that focused on attacking Catholic homes and terrifying women and children (Belfast Media 2009). A series of reports revealed concerns about the conduct of some members of the B Specials and identified a series of problems including weak organizational structures (see Hunt, Robert, and Robertson 1969).

In 1970, the B Specials were phased out and replaced with the Ulster Defence Regiment, a division of the British Army. The regiment was dominated by Protestant men. A women’s section known as the Greenfinches was established in 1973 and was limited to clerical duties to free up male soldiers to go out on patrol. Women later went out on patrol due to increases in women’s paramilitary activities but were unarmed and always under the protection of an armed male soldier (Soldier Magazine 1979).

The Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC), the full-time police force, was established in 1920 and it remained predominantly Protestant and male. Its role was to perform regular policing functions, but it also acted as a counterinsurgency force against paramilitaries. Women were excluded from its ranks until 1943 when a women’s section was established. Women’s duties were feminized and were limited to dealing with female prisoners, domestic violence, and abuse, and prostitution. Furthermore, RUC women were not allowed to carry arms until 1994 on the basis of claims that arming women made them targets for the IRA, even though several RUC women had been killed by paramilitary organizations prior to 1994. These kinds of gender inequities in the RUC had implications for women’s promotion. Therefore, even though women had entered in to militarized arenas, the hierarchies remained solidly male. And as Bruce (1992, 81) notes, “Joining these forces enabled men from the Protestant community ‘legitimate’ routes to protect the ethnic community and secure employment.”

As these militarized roles were taken up predominately, although not exclusively by Protestant men, Irish republicans alleged that state militarism in Northern Ireland was an illegitimate assertion of ethnic power over nationalists. Contestations of state military masculinities also operated across the terrain of gender and the family. The Protestant representation of militarized masculinities in the RUC, the UDR, and the British army as self-sacrificing noble, men risking their lives to prevent the injury and death of civilians at the hands of paramilitaries were contested through notions of bigotry and harassment often in relation to women (Pickering 2002, 192). Of course, such claims remain controversial.

Paramilitary Masculinities in Northern Ireland

Paramilitary masculinities in Northern Ireland have also been arenas of discursive contestation and struggle rather than expressions of hegemonic masculinities. Like state militarized masculinities, they were rooted in narratives that associated violent protection of the ethnic group with men. Both Irish Republicanism and Loyalism have made appeals to men rather than women to come forward and defend their community’s rights through involvement in paramilitary activities. For example, much of the inspiration for Irish republicans during the period of the troubles came from the struggle against British colonialism in Ireland in the early years of the twentieth century. As is often noted, Irish Republican paramilitaries viewed themselves as the inheritors of this earlier struggle (see O’Malley 1990). What is less noted is that Irish Republicans in Northern Ireland retained a narrative about the relationship between the achievement of Irish masculinity and violent national struggle. For example, Louise Ryan (2000) has illustrated how British colonialism in Ireland provoked notions about the feminization of Irish men. This concern with feminization was reflected in the discourses of the Irish hero Patrick Pearse, who rebelled against British rule in 1916. Pearce stated that “a nation which regards [bloodshed] as the final horror has lost its manhood” (O’Malley 1990, 48).

The call to arms in defense of the Irish nation was therefore very much “a call to manhood.” This coupling of the ideals of masculinity to physical force violence framed certain forms of masculinity as the medium through which the nation could be restored and framed the national struggle as the medium through which Irish “manhood” could be restored. In the 1960s in Northern Ireland, the first statement of the paramilitary organization, the PIRA read, “We will show by our actions that we are the essence of Irish manhood” (Frontline Online 2005, 7). While Republicans have subsequently developed different forms of masculinities, including nonviolent masculinities, the underlying narrative of the “hard man” has always been an element of Irish Republican masculinity (see Ashe 2007a).

On the Loyalist side, similar ideals of identity emerged that challenged Loyalist men to protect a Unionist community that viewed itself as under siege from Irish Republicans intent on securing a united Ireland. Loyalist paramilitarism was constituted as the preserve of “Ulster’s loyal sons.” As Racioppi and O’Sullivan See (2000) observe, Ulster’s “daughters appeared to serve as helpmates to the male defenders of the Union” (p. 94), which exposes women’s subjugated position in Loyalist cultures but also indicates their support of the male defenders of Protestant culture. In a discussion of Loyalist masculinity in Northern Ireland, Bairner (2008) notes the attraction of Loyalist paramilitaries to body building; an attraction which is reflected in the models of hypermasculinity practiced by prominent Loyalist paramilitaries. If expressions of Loyalist masculinities are more reflective of forms of hypermasculinity, this may be due to the relationships between Protestant men and the state security forces. Bruce (1992, 111) comments:

There is a major difference between loyalist and republican ability to recruit from the working class . . . . In theory the IRA . . . can draw from all circles of nationalists. Although it recruits primarily from the working class, it has access to all sections of that constituency. The UDA and UVF are more restricted. A working-class Protestant who wishes to do something positive to combat IRA terrorism, safeguard his family, or defend Ulster can do those things in a variety of high status, well-rewarded channels. He can join the RUC or the UDR.

Regardless of the actual or perceived differences between Loyalist and Irish republican masculinities, men from both communities have been viewed as natural combatants and the intersection of notions about masculinity and the defense of the nation were part of the ideological narratives that called on those men who identified with the nationalist community to defend those communities. While a very small number of women were combatants, women formed part of the network of community support for paramilitaries for example, by hiding men on the run or moving and storing weapons (Aretxaga 1997). However, the dominance of men in paramilitary organizations helped individual men accrue power over women. McWilliams (1997), for example, exposed how male combatants used their position to intimidate wives and girlfriends. Moreover, the marking of paramilitary violence as primarily an arena for men helped reinforce the gendered public/private divide. Moreover, men’s dominance in paramilitary organizations gave them access to political decision making and a more direct role in the control of communities.

While men’s militarism reinforced men’s control of both public and, as McWilliams (1997) illustrates, private life in Northern Ireland men’s assumption of militarized masculinities also brought a range of negative consequences for paramilitary men and for members of state security forces including death, injury, imprisonment, and psychological trauma (Grounds and Jamieson 2003). As studies have illustrated, militarism allows men to accrue communal power, but it also involves profound costs for men (see Grounds and Jamieson 2003; Shirlow and McEvoy 2008). Many men joined the paramilitaries in their teenage years.

Just as the masculinities of state security forces became points of contestation, paramilitary masculinities have also been contested through recourse to alternative versions of masculinity. Paramilitary masculinities, in particular, have been labeled as “sadistic,” “perverted,” and “psychopathic.” Those men who reject armed struggle framed paramilitary men as cowards who have maimed and murdered unarmed civilians, including children, in bombings and shootings. This framing parallels broader social discourses that have labeled paramilitary men the “murder mafia.” The media have often represented paramilitary masculinities in Northern Ireland as a grotesque rather than as heroic expressions of masculinity. Lysaght’s (2002) empirical research on men’s identities in Northern Ireland illustrates the kind of oppositional framings of military forms of masculinity that have emerged in Northern Ireland culture. Through empirical research with working-class men, Lysaght (2002) illustrated how noncombatant men framed combatant men as “far from hard,” and as dependent on “a team behind them to impose their will” (p. 54). Noncombatant men in her study framed their masculinity as a superior model to combatants' militarized masculinities by arguing that as noncombatants they had autonomy from military organizations and did not depend on the violent enforcement of their aims by a wider paramilitary group.

Lysaght’s interviewees' differentiation of the “hard” man from the paramilitary is drawn out further in Feldman’s analysis of how the masculinity of the hard man is contrasted with the masculinities of paramilitary men in oral narratives in Belfast. The hard man was a local bare fisted fighter, often with a citywide reputation (Feldman 1991, 46). Feldman’s oral history research frames the hard man as a street fighter engaged in “fair” fights in designated areas such as back allies or waste ground. Feldman’s interviewees portrayed the fist fights as strictly rule bound, often drawing large crowds. In addition, according to Feldman’s interviewees, violence was reserved for particular agents and spaces, and the hard man would not direct violence at women and children. Indeed, women would intervene to stop the fights and “drag” the hard men home for their supper (Feldman 1991, 55).

Alternative analyses of the hard men suggest that that these men did engage in violence with women and that the “rules” around fist fights were looser than some accounts suggest (O’Connell 1996). However, Feldman’s interviewees expose how the idealized versions of the hard man’s masculinity are invoked to challenge the masculinities of paramilitary men, as Feldman (1991, 46) notes, “the contrast between the two figures is used to question paramilitary violence.” The masked paramilitary man’s covert violence through the use of the gun and the bomb often against unarmed targets and generating civilian causalities, including women and children, is read against the idealized version of the street fighter’s noble masculinity. It was against the background of these narratives and traditional militarized masculinities that new forms of masculinities emerged. As the peace process developed, militarized masculinities became arenas of change. State security forces were reformed through political bargaining and agreement. Changes to paramilitary masculinities were developed more at community levels, and the reconstituted identities that emerged provide insight in to how the reconstitution of those masculinities reshaped men’s power within communities.

Masculinity, Conflict Transformation, and Power

After the signing of the Agreement, independent enquires uncovered evidence of collusion between state security forces and Loyalist paramilitary organizations. The extent of collusion is debated heavily (see Tonge 2005). The UDR was effectively disbanded. The RUC underwent a series of reforms which included a change of name and a target of 50/50 recruitment for Protestant and Catholics (see Tonge 2005). An increase in the representation of women was recommended by the Patten report but set no target (see Tonge 2005). The representation of women in the RUC in 2001 was 13.5 percent which increased to 26.58 percent in 2011 (Police Service of Northern Ireland 2011). Catholic representation increased from 8.3 percent to 29.79 percent during the same period. Studies of the reforms suggest that gender inequalities remain endemic in the police service. Women police officers performing specific duties are still referred to as the “shopping squad” (Hinds 2006). However, state militarized masculinities remain arenas of contestation across ethnicity, gender, and sexuality. For example, recent attempts to recruit gay men and lesbians have been challenged by some Unionist politicians who have argued that such strategies are ridiculous developments that give new meaning to the term “bent cop” (McDonnell 2011). However, the recent political changes mean that the traditional narratives and structures that acted to frame the protection of the state as the preserve of Protestant, heteronormative, family men are being challenged. At the level of the state, there has been some recognition of issues of gender equity in the state security forces, and gender monitoring and recruitment practices form part of the framework for police force reforms.

Different dynamics provoked transitions in the arena of paramilitary masculinities. From the period after the 1994 paramilitary ceasefires, ethnonationalist physical force violence began to rescind slowly as both communities looked increasingly toward the developing devolved, democratic structures. After some difficult negotiations, the process of decommissioning paramilitary weapons gained momentum. These changes did not lead to a situation where paramilitary groups became redundant. They continued to be a presence particularly in working-class communities. However, this shifting context provoked some ex-combatants forged out new roles within their communities through the development of nonviolent forms of community-based restorative justice (CBRJ). One effect of ethnonationalist conflict in Northern Ireland has been that paramilitaries became heavily engaged in the “policing” of communities, often meting out punishment beating, knee capping, and death threats to young antisocial men (Shirlow and McEvoy 2008). As ex-combatants began to view CBRJ as an alternative system of justice that could replace paramilitary forms of justice their identities became grounded in the philosophy and ethics of nonviolent community work. Marshall (1996) defines restorative justice practice as “a process whereby all parties with a stake in a particular offence come together to resolve collectively how to deal with the aftermath of the offence and its implications for the future” (p. 37). Restorative justice often involves victim and offender engaging in face-to-face dialogue to address the harm done by an offence, and the offender often provides reparation to the victim. The turn toward CBRJ by some ex-combatants was central to their demilitarization and reinvention as nonviolent community leaders.

A number of CBRJ projects were developed in urban areas (McEvoy and Mika 2002, 535). The negative narratives that surrounded paramilitary masculinities during the period of conflict provoked claims that CBRJ was a sinister development designed to give ex-combatants continued control over community justice. In addition, there were accusations that threats of violence were being used by men involved in CBRJ to pressurize young men to engage in the processes of dialogue and reparation (see Knox 2002 for overview). Others framed it as a positive development that allowed ex-combatants to engage in developing nonviolent conflict transformation strategies (see e.g., Shirlow and McEvoy 2008).

In an attempt to legitimize ex-combatants roles in CBRJ, some analysts created an account of the development of CBRJ that erased the role, agency, and skills of women involved in CBRJ, and reconstituted a narrative of masculinities that reaffirmed men’s traditional status as leaders of communities, effectively legitimizing traditional gender–power relationships within those communities at the discursive level. At an empirical level, the ex-combatants involved in developing these schemes almost immediately recruited women with a history of community work in relation to a range of social problems. The shift toward non-violent forms of community conflict resolution opened the arena of community justice, once the preserve of mainly paramilitary men, to a range of women within those communities. CBRJ was forged through the energies of men and women. It enabled a few women to take up prominent roles in conflict transformation at grassroots levels and also provided some working-class women with opportunities for training that they could organize around their roles as carers. These scholars elided the contribution of women in CBRJ. As a consequence, unlike the police service, no mechanism has been developed to trace the impact of demilitarization processes at the community level on gender equality and the integration of women into arenas such as community justice that were marked as male during the conflict.

Additionally, despite the integration of women’s skills and energies in to the schemes, the hierarchy in many schemes remained solidly male. The texture of the political and intellectual context of Northern Ireland did not engage with this question of how transitions in men’s traditional identities operated to reproduce leadership roles for men within communities and indeed some scholars developed a rationale to support men’s leadership roles.

As explored below, the history of the development of CBRJ is a story, as told by a section of the mainstream, of men leading communities away from violent justice forms (e.g., McEvoy and Mika 2001; Shirlow et al. 2005; Shirlow and McEvoy 2008). In other words, it is a story about masculinities but one that fails to acknowledge the relationship between the constitution of masculinities and regimes of gender power. What was important for some analysts was that men’s ability to lead communities with integrity was being contested in the political debates surrounding the problematic that emerged around “men of violence” being involved in conflict transformational models of justice, and scholars' key concern was to reaffirm those men’s ability to lead and right to leadership of those communities.

Framing Masculinities and Conflict Transformation

In an attempt to resolve the tensions generated by men’s hybrid identities which were rooted in a violent past while at the same time forging out a peaceful future, analysts who viewed CBRJ as a positive development argued that the experiences of militarism legitimized the dominant position of ex-combatants in community justice (see e.g., Shirlow and McEvoy 2008). These claims were informed by interviews with ex-combatants who claimed that their personal experience of propagating political violence had made them more determined to generate peace initiatives. This largely male experience of using physical force violence was framed as a key driver for community level peace-building and men’s ability to lead communities. Of course, women’s experiences of the effects of conflict on their families and their homes had been a motivator for their nonviolent peace-making efforts for decades; these efforts were erased, as analysts increasingly associated ex-combatants with peace-building and leadership through CBRJ.

Analysts also framed the basis of men’s ability to lead communities as rooted in men’s experiences in male prisons during the conflict (e.g., McEvoy and Mika 2001; Shirlow et al. 2005; Shirlow and McEvoy 2008). They claimed that combatant men’s involvement in resistance to prison authorities and their engagement with radical forms of thought during their period of incarceration combined with their experiences of negotiation with the prison authorities meant that they had a specific skill base which could be used to lead communities away from violent forms of community paramilitary justice. These skills developed in primarily male arenas became identified as the skill base for developing CBRJ, and women’s skills again were elided. Men transformed community attitudes to violence, according to these analyses; an assertion which discursively displaced women’s extensive history of peace initiatives and community work from evaluations of CBRJ. Of course, men’s traditional positioning as defenders and leaders of the community enabled them to take up these positions of influence. Men’s skills and community positioning in the conflict transformational period cannot be understood without acknowledgment of their traditional dominant positions. Analysts' neglect of the historical relationships of gender meant that they framed men’s “kudos” and influence as a natural consequence of their militarized masculinities rather than as positions that emerged due to the gendering of the roles viewed as normative for men and women within the nation during the conflict.

However, the formulation of “moral leadership” is the most unsettling aspects of this narrative constitution of reconstituted masculinity (see e.g., McEvoy and Eriksson 2006; McEvoy and Mika 2001; Shirlow et al. 2005). “Their [ex-combatants] rejection of the efficacy of violence as a strategy is itself a powerful exercise in both moral leadership and community capacity building” (Shirlow et al. 2005, 122; McEvoy and Eriksson 2006, 329). The equation of moral leadership of communities with a history of violence is particularly problematic for reconstituting relationships between men and women in terms of community power, influence, and leadership. As it has been mostly men that have been involved in violence, this kind of formulation removes women from the “circle” of community leadership. These analysts have not simply constituted a narrative of reconstituted masculinities for previously militarized men; they have made militarism the basis of community leadership in the conflict transformational period. These effects are probably unintended by the scholars who developed these narratives; a situation that exposes dramatically the need to integrate critical frameworks for analyzing masculinities during periods of conflict transformation in contexts that have previously ignored these issues. Critical gendered analyses are required to examine the ongoing reproduction of these narratives, and mainstream narratives must be exposed for their gendered implications, otherwise the analysis of conflict transformation processes will remain partial.

Final Reflections

Challenging men’s traditional dominance in Northern Ireland is an essential aspect of the regions shift toward democratic politics. Militarism and its transformation in Northern Ireland have a clear gendered dimension. Any analysis that approaches these issues by eliding gender identities and power remain implicated in the reproduction of forms of analysis that deflect attention from the production of men’s power and authority in Northern Ireland society. Such research forces the mainstream to reassess its notions of peace-building, equality, and participatory democracy. It also forces the mainstream to assess men’s life stories and traditional roles through a more critical framework. A political context, based on the principles of consociation that prioritizes ethnic identity and marginalizes other identities such as gender and sexuality, requires that the critical and interrogatory forces within that society focus on developing spaces of critical dialogic and explorations around gender identities. The framework of critical studies of masculinities can act as a guide for explorations of men and men’s power in the period of conflict transformation, as it demands that men’s power be viewed as a political problem open to critical intervention.

Footnotes

Authors’ Note

The author would like to thank the anonymous reviewers for their comments.

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Notes

References

Alison

2004. “Women as Agents of Political Violence: Gendering Security.” Security Dialogue 35:447–63.

Aretxaga

1997. Shattering Silence: Women, Nationalism, and Political Subjectivity in Northern Ireland. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Ashe

2006. “Gendering the Holy Cross School Dispute: Women and Nationalism in Northern Ireland.” Political Studies 54:147–64.

Ashe

2007a. “Gendering Ethno-nationalist Conflict in Northern Ireland.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 30:766–86.

Ashe

2007b. The New Politics of Masculinity: Men, Power and Resistance. London and New York: Routledge.

Ashe

2007c. “The Virgin Mary complex: Feminism and Northern Ireland Politics.” Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 9:573–88.

Ashe

2008. “Gender and Ethno-nationalist Politics in Northern Ireland.” In Northern Ireland after the Troubles, edited by Coulter

, 45–60. Manchester, England: Manchester University Press.

Aughey

2008. The Agreement. London and New York: Routledge.

Bairner

1999a. “Soccer, Masculinity and Violence in Northern Ireland—Between Hooliganism and Terrorism.” Men and Masculinities 1:284–301.

10.

Bairner

1999b. “Violence, Masculinity and the Irish Peace Process.” Capital and Class 69:125–44.

11.

Bairner

. 2008. “The Ulster Boys: Reflections on Masculinity within Northern Ireland’s Protestant Community.” Hitotsubashi Discussion Paper Series No. 6, Hitotsubashi University.

12.

Belfast Media. 2009. “Making Sense of Dover Street 1969.” Online. Accessed June 5, 2011. http://www.belfastmedia.com/news_article.php?ID=3572.

13.

Bew

Gribbon

Patterson

. 1996. Northern Ireland 1921-1996: Political Forces and Social Classes. London: Serif.

14.

Bruce

1992. The Red Hand. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

15.

Byrne

2001. “Consociational and Civic Society Approaches to Peacebuilding in Northern Ireland.” Peace Research 38:327–52.

16.

Corcoran

2007. “Normalization and its Discontents: Constructing the ‘Irreconcilable’ Female Political Prisoner in Northern Ireland.” British Journal of Criminology 47:405–22.

17.

Connell

R. W.

1997. “Men, Masculinities and Feminism.” Social Alternatives 16:7–10.

18.

Dobrowolsky

2002. “Crossing Boundaries: Exploring and Mapping Women’s Constitutional Interventions in England, Scotland, and Northern Ireland.” Social Politics 9:293–40.

19.

Davis

Roulston

, eds. 2000. Gender, Democracy and Inclusion in Northern Ireland. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave.

20.

Dowler

1998. “‘And they think I’m a Nice Old Lady’ Women and War in Belfast, Northern Ireland.” Gender, Place and Culture 5:159–76.

21.

Dowler

2001. “Till Death do us Part: Masculinity, Friendship and Nationalism in Belfast, Northern Ireland.” Environment and Planning D, Society and Space 19:53–71.

22.

Fearon

, ed. 1999. The story of the Northern Ireland Women’s Coalition. Belfast, Ireland: Blackstaff.

23.

Feldman

1991. Formations of Violence: The Narrative of the Body and Political Terrorism in Northern Ireland. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

24.

Frontline Online. 2005. “Behind the Mask.” Online. Accessed September 14, 2005. http://www.pbs/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/IRA/conflict.

25.

Finlay

1987. “The Cutting Edge: Derry Shirtmakers.” In Gender in Irish society, edited by Curtin

Jackson

O’Connor

, 87–107. Galway, Ireland: Galway University Press.

26.

Finlay

2011. Governing Ethnic Conflict, Consociation, Identity, and the Price of Peace. London and New York: Routledge.

27.

Grounds

Jamieson

. 2003. “No Sense of an Ending: Researching the Experience of Imprisonment and Release amongst Republican Ex-prisoners.” Theoretical Criminology 7:347–62.

28.

Hearn

1997. “The Implications of Critical Studies on Men.” Nora 3:48–60.

29.

Hearn

1998. “Theorizing Men and Men’s Theorizing: Varieties of Discursive Practices in Men Theorizing of Men.” Theory and Society 27:781–816.

30.

Hearn

Morgan

. 1990. “The Critique of Men.” In Men, Masculinity and Social Theory, edited by Hearn

Morgan

, 206–14. London: Hyman Unwin.

31.

Higate

2003a. Military Masculinities: Identity and the State. Praeger: Westport, CT.

32.

Higate

2003b. “Introduction: Putting Men and the Military on the Agenda.” In Military masculinities: Identity and the state, edited by Higate

Paul

, xvii–xxii. Praeger: Westport, CT.

33.

Hinds

. 2006. “Sex Equality–30 Years on Mainstreaming Sex Equality.” ECNI Annual Conference, November 22, 2006, Hilton Hotel Belfast.

34.

Hunt

Robert

Robertson

. 1969. Report of the Advisory Committee on Police in Northern Ireland. Belfast: Her Majesty’s Stationary Office.

35.

Jackson

1979. The Two Irelands: The Problem of the Double Minority - A Dual Study of Inter-Group Ten. Report 2. London: Minority Rights Group.

36.

Kimmel

1996. Manhood in American: A Cultural History. New York: Free Press.

37.

Knox

2002. “‘See no Evil, Hear no Evil’: Insidious Paramilitary Violence in Northern Ireland.” British Journal of Criminology 42:164–85.

38.

Kovitz

2003. “The Roots of Military Masculinity.” In Military Masculinities: Identity and the State, edited by Higate

, 1–14. Westport, CT: Praeger.

39.

Lysaght

2002. “Dangerous Friends and Deadly Foes—Performances of Masculinity in a Divided Society.” Irish Geography 35:51–62.

40.

Marshall

1996. “The Evolution of Restorative Justice in Britain.” European Journal on Criminal Policy and Research 4:21–43.

41.

McDonnell

2011. “Gays are Next on the List for PSNI Recruitment; But MP Attacks Controversial Plan.” The Free Library. Online. Accessed June 5, 2011. http://www.thefreelibrary.com/GAYS+’ARE+NEXT+ON+LIST'+FOR+PSNI+RECRUITMENT%3b+But+MP+attacks…-a0135792530.

42.

McDowell

2008. “Commemorating Dead ‘Men’: Gendering the Past and Present in Post-conflict Northern Ireland.” Gender, Place and Culture 15:335–54.

43.

McEvoy

Eriksson

. 2006. “Restorative Justice in Transition: Ownership, Leadership, and ‘Bottom-up’ Human Rights.” In Handbook of Restorative Justice, edited by Sullivan

Tifft

, 321–35. London and New York: Routledge.

44.

McEvoy

Mika

2001. “Punishment, Policing and Praxis: Restorative Justice and Non-violent Alternatives to Paramilitary Punishments in Northern Ireland.” Policing and Society 11:359–82.

45.

McEvoy

Mika

2002. “Restorative Justice and the Critique of Informalism in Northern Ireland.” British Journal of Criminology 42:534–62.

46.

McGarry

O’Leary

. 1995. Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken Images. Oxford: Blackwell.

47.

McWilliams

1997. “Violence against Women and Political Conflict: The Northern Ireland Experience.” Critical Criminology 8:78–92.

48.

Meshcherkina

2000. “New Russian Men: Masculinity Regained?” In Gender, State and Society in Soviet and post-Soviet Russia, edited by Aswin

, 1–29. London: Routledge.

49.

Mosse

1996. The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

50.

Nagel

1998. “Masculinity and Nationalism: Gender, Sexuality and the Making of Nations.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 21:242–69.

51.

O’Connell

1996. “True or not, the fact is…’ Masculinity, Violence and Social Memory in C20th Belfast.” Paper presented at Queen’s University Belfast.

52.

O’Malley

1990. Biting at the Grave. Boston, MA: Beacon Press.

53.

Parpart

J. L.

Zalewski

. 2008. Rethinking the Man Question: Sex, Gender and Violence in International Relations. New York: Zed.

54.

Peterson

S. V.

1999. “Political Identities: Nationalism as Heterosexism.” International Feminist Journal of Politics 1:34–65.

55.

Pickering

2002. Women Policing and Resistance in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Ireland: Beyond the Pale.

56.

Police Service of Northern Ireland. 2011. Statistics. Online. Accessed June 5, 2011. http://www.psni.police.uk/index/updates/updates_statistics.htm.

57.

Porter

1996. Rethinking Unionism: An Alternative Vision for Northern Ireland. Belfast, Ireland: Blackstaff.

58.

Powell

2008. Great Hatred, Little Room: Making Peace in Northern Ireland. London: Bodley Head.

59.

Ryan

2000. “Drunken Tans: Representations of Sex and Violence in the Anglo-Irish War 1919-21.” Feminist Review 66:73–94.

60.

Racioppi

O’Sullivan See

. 2000. “Ulster Men and Loyalist Ladies.” International Journal of Feminist Politics 2:1–29.

61.

Sharoni

2000. “Gendering Resistance within an Irish Republican Prisoner Community: A Conversation with Laurence McKeown.” International Feminist Journal of Politics 2:104–23.

62.

Shirlow

Graham

McEvoy

hAdhmaill

F. Ó

Purvis

. 2005. Politically Motivated former Prisoner Groups: Community Activism and Conflict Transformation. Belfast, Ireland: Northern Ireland Community Relations Council.

63.

Shirlow

McEvoy

. 2008. Beyond the Wire: Former Prisoners and Conflict Transformation in Northern Ireland. London: Pluto Press.

64.

Soldier Magazine. 1979. “The First Lady of the Green Finches.” Online. Accessed June 5, 2011. http://www.soldiermagazine.co.uk/op_banner/pages/428.pdf.

65.

Tonge

2005. The New Northern Ireland Politics. New York: Palgrave.

66.

Yuval-Davis

Anthias

, eds. 1989. Women, Nation, State. London: Macmillan.

67.

Zalewski

2005. “Gender Ghosts in McGarry and O’Leary and Representations of the Conflict in Northern Ireland.” Political Studies 53:201–21.