At Hillsborough Castle on September 19, 2025, the air was thick with both anticipation and tension as British and Irish leaders unveiled a new joint framework aimed at addressing the enduring legacy of Northern Ireland’s Troubles. Northern Ireland Secretary Hilary Benn stood alongside Irish deputy premier Simon Harris, presenting what they described as a historic opportunity to move beyond decades of pain and political stalemate. Yet, as the ink dried on the new proposals, unionist leaders across the political spectrum voiced fierce opposition, warning that the plan risked retraumatizing victims and undermining Northern Ireland’s sovereignty.
“Closure on dealing with the past is within our grasp,” Hilary Benn declared, according to PA Media. His optimism was palpable, underscoring the British government’s belief that years of wrangling over the controversial Legacy Act could finally give way to a more just and collaborative approach. The framework, hammered out between London and Dublin, is set to reform the Legacy Act, a piece of legislation that has been mired in controversy since its passage in 2023.
But for many unionists, the new agreement is anything but a cause for celebration. DUP leader Gavin Robinson minced no words when he called the process “outrageous,” accusing the UK government of behaving “outrageously” by allowing Dublin what he described as “dual control” over Northern Ireland’s legacy policy. “In allowing dual control of our legacy policy to the Irish Government, inviting them in to have dual control of our legacy policy is egregious. It takes no account whatsoever of their role during the Troubles, of how they supported and protected terrorists who fled to their jurisdiction, it takes no account of the fact they frustrated extradition and criminal justice and the opportunity of answers for victims in Northern Ireland,” Robinson told PA News Agency.
His concerns were echoed by TUV leader Jim Allister, who labeled the joint proposals “an obscenity which makes unionist buy-in impossible.” Allister argued that innocent victims were being failed while “the Republic continues to protect its terrorist-supporting past from any scrutiny.” In his view, the new framework does little to address the grievances of those most affected by the Troubles, and he urged other unionist leaders to “stand strong against this betrayal.”
To understand the depth of these feelings, it’s important to look back at the 2023 Legacy Act itself. Introduced by the Conservative government, the act ended many civil cases and inquests related to deaths during the Troubles—a move that was opposed by all victims’ groups and political parties in Northern Ireland. The act also established the Independent Commission for Reconciliation and Information Recovery (ICRIR), which was tasked with investigating outstanding Troubles cases. However, a particularly contentious aspect was the offer of conditional immunity to some suspects, a provision that was later retracted after legal action from families of victims.
The joint UK-Irish proposals now aim to overhaul this structure. The ICRIR would be fundamentally reformed into a new Legacy Commission, which would focus on investigating Troubles-related deaths. A separate body would be established to recover information, and for the first time, the Irish government is expected to pledge changes to its own investigations and to cooperate with the new legacy body. There is also hope, according to The Irish News, that Dublin will drop its interstate legal case against the UK over the 2023 Act, a move that could ease tensions between the two governments.
Despite these reforms, unionist skepticism remains high. The Ulster Unionist Party released a statement arguing that Dublin “cannot be allowed to mark the UK legacy homework without providing coherent mechanisms in the Irish Republic.” The party insisted that success would be measured by outcomes for victims and survivors, and called for the Irish government to accept full responsibility over Troubles cases. Ulster Unionist Party leader Mike Nesbitt voiced further concerns, stating he was “not convinced that victims had been at the heart of designing the new process or spoken too at length.” He criticized what he described as a repackaging of the Stormont House Agreement, claiming it amounted to “an amnesty for all crimes short of murder.”
As media questions swirled around the accusations of ‘dual control,’ both Benn and Harris were quick to push back. “Criticism is easy, trying to fix legacy is hard,” Benn responded, emphasizing the sovereignty of both governments. “These are sovereign commitments of two sovereign governments that we will take forward in our own legislatures. There’s nothing in this document that justifies some of the things that have been said about it. This is a partnership to try and make progress.”
Simon Harris, the Irish deputy premier, also sought to defuse the notion of shared control. “This is not about dual control, or any phrase that tries to bring about an emotional response, it’s about recognizing that the British Government can’t impose on the Irish Government obligations, and the Irish Government can’t impose obligations on the British Government,” Harris said. He pointed out that unionist politicians had previously called for the Irish government to do more on legacy issues—so, he argued, it made sense for Dublin to be involved in the new framework. “So today is a joint framework.”
The background to these tense negotiations is fraught with legal and political complexity. The 2023 Legacy Act was itself a response to decades of unresolved cases, many dating back to the darkest days of the Troubles. Yet its introduction sparked a legal challenge from the Republic of Ireland, which argued that the act breached the European Convention on Human Rights. The act’s creation of the ICRIR was seen by some as a way to sweep difficult cases under the rug, while others viewed it as a necessary step towards reconciliation.
Now, with the proposed reforms, the hope among British and Irish officials is that a more robust and transparent system can finally deliver answers—and perhaps even closure—for families who have waited far too long. The Irish government’s willingness to cooperate, including potential changes to its own investigative processes, is being heralded as a significant step. Still, the wounds of the past run deep, and for many unionist leaders, the prospect of giving Dublin a greater role in Northern Ireland’s affairs is a step too far.
For victims’ groups and survivors, the outcome of these reforms will be judged not by political rhetoric but by tangible results: access to truth, justice, and meaningful participation in the process. As the joint framework moves toward implementation, the challenge will be to bridge the gap between political aspiration and the lived realities of those still haunted by the Troubles.
As the dust settles from the Hillsborough Castle announcement, one thing is clear: the path to legacy closure in Northern Ireland remains as complex—and as emotionally charged—as ever. Whether this new framework can deliver the closure that Hilary Benn says is “within our grasp” will depend on the willingness of all parties to move beyond old grievances and put victims at the center of the process.
