It is perfectly possible to like George Mitchell. It is also perfectly possible not to. Neither sentiment has the slightest bearing on whether he was effective
George Mitchell did not broker the Good Friday Agreement because he was cuddly, avuncular or possessed of a disarming Maine accent. He succeeded because he was patient to the point of geological endurance, because he imposed structure on chaos, and because he insisted—politely but relentlessly—that parties remain in the room when every instinct told them to storm out.
Peace processes are not popularity contests. They are endurance tests. Mitchell’s great talent was not charm but stamina. He understood that effectiveness lies in credibility: all sides believed he was serious, even-handed and not auditioning for applause. Whether anyone “liked” him is a footnote. The Agreement was not secured by warmth; it was secured by process, deadlines and the subtle threat of diplomatic embarrassment.
Which brings us to the peculiar modern reflex that anyone who ever knew a bad man must secretly be one.
The fact that Mitchell, like numerous public figures, once had social contact with Jeffrey Epstein is routinely treated as if proximity were proof. By that standard, we would all need to vet our grocer, our dentist and the chap who waves at us over the hedge. Civilisation functions on limited knowledge. We know neighbours, suppliers, donors, colleagues—rarely their private sins.
Epstein cultivated powerful acquaintances precisely because he traded on borrowed credibility. That is how con men operate: they seek rooms filled with respectable people. The presence of respectable people does not retroactively transform them into accomplices.
To suggest moral depravity by association alone is to abandon proportion. It flattens distinctions between knowing someone, suspecting someone and participating with someone. Those are not the same thing.
Mitchell’s record in Northern Ireland stands or falls on what he did there: the discipline he imposed, the compromises he coaxed, the agreement he midwifed. His effectiveness is measurable in the absence of bomb blasts, not in dinner-party guest lists.
Liking him is optional. Impugning him without evidence is absurd. History deserves better than guilt by seating plan.
It’s a bit like the way people are supposed to detest certain singers and actors based on their private lives. The obvious ones (Glitter, Saville, Jackson) we all know about. Others (Jimmy Page, David Bowie, Elvis) are sort of given a pass. George likes young women. How young has yet to be established. If they were overage and not being trafficked then he has done nothing illegal. Whether or not his wife agrees is entirely between them. He did a great job during the peace process and he has been honoured for that and that alone.
This article is not written in your usual style of writing! Interesting how you can apparently accept double standards.