Peace is not an event but a process”, writes Jonathan Powell in his new book, ‘Great Hatred, Little Room’. Fascinating, informative and easy to read, the book illustrates the 12-year struggle to end violent political conflict in Northern Ireland from a very interesting vantage point. Though not a household name in the Republic, Jonathan Powell was Tony Blair’s Chief of Staff and principal negotiator. When things went wrong, he was there to patch it up; the ultimate calm to follow the multiple storms. Whereas the Alistair Campbells of the British government let down their leader, Powell’s diplomacy, discretion and dogged endurance ensured he was the most senior figure to both enter and leave 10 Downing Street with Blair. He kept going against all myriad difficulties and he was the survivor. But most importantly, he was quietly integral to the cessation of violent political conflict in Northern Ireland.

For decades Northern Ireland has been suffocated by communal violence stemming from a legacy of mistrust and conflicting ideologies. In May 2007, Ian Paisley took the oath of office as First Minister of Northern Ireland. Ten years ago one could never have even imagined that Martin McGuinness (the new Deputy First Minister) would be signing the same one. A decade of brutal negotiations, secret meetings and countless telephone calls had finally paid off. They had succeeded where their predecessors had failed and nothing in Powell’s thirty years in the public service had “been harder to achieve or given (him) so much satisfaction”.

More than a year on, I asked Powell what he would have done differently, now that he has the valuable benefit of hindsight? “Well if I had read the history of Ireland properly, I would never have attempted to do it” he replied candidly, without missing a beat. “But actually,” he said, “having looked through the papers from my time at no. 10 (official ones held by the Cabinet Office) certain patterns emerged”. He suggests that if they had recognised these patterns at the time, “the negotiations might have lasted four weeks not ten years”. He also considers that the British Government could have “forced out ambiguity earlier”. Though obviously too early may have resulted in a violent reaction from the IRA. He speaks with such nonchalance that it is hard to gage the immensity of the achievement, or the dire consequences should it have gone wrong. Repeatedly he felt it was particularly important to emphasise that the British and Irish were in this together – it was a united effort of equal success.

Gaining the trust of the key players was paramount to achieving peace, “as that’s the only way it works” said Powell. He “already had the trust of the Union” party from his previous roles in the US. (He was in the Foreign Office and then political secretary in Washington). He explained that Bertie Ahern and Blair shared the view to “put history behind them” and already trusted one another.

Such a job undoubtedly puts pressure on family life. “Every Christmas was spoiled” Powell said. He comments that “negotiations did not respect weekends, holidays or even Christmas” and when I asked him about the sacrifice he unequivocally recalled a particular incident on Christmas Eve 2006. Endless deal-clinching phone calls coincided with a last minute shopping trip with his wife, international affairs journalist Sarah Helm. Powell was trying on trousers in a busy London shop whilst simultaneously thrusting his mobile phone to “poor old Sarah” with Ian Paisley or Gerry Adams on the end of the line.

Where most of us enquired about spot the dog or postman pat, Powell’s youngest two children grew up asking “who are Martin and Ian”? He is smiling when he describes a time on a family holiday, biking through the marshes of southern England – such were his multiple demands that he would bike along ‘en famille’ whilst listening to a conversation between Blair and Ahern on loudspeaker on his mobile phone. Obviously enormously grateful for their tolerance (he also has two elder children from a previous marriage) he writes that he “hopes the book will show them what it was all for”. Increasingly in his account, it becomes obvious quite how much was at stake.

‘Did you ever want to give up?’ I asked naively. “Repeatedly. Frequently. Again and Again”

He admits “it would’ve been a complete disaster if I’d have talked to the papers… sometimes I say things extremely plonkerish at just the wrong moment”

And Blair attributes a lot to him; “Jonathan has this amazing ability to stay calm while all around is chaos… he was utterly without panic”. He kept his head whilst all around were losing theirs. “Even if they didn’t trust me, they trusted him,” Blair says. “Sometimes Adams and McGuinness would take things from him that they wouldn’t take from me”. I wanted to know how he did it. How did he get these three men to talk and agree, who previously wouldn’t share a building? There are stories of moving the coffee to a different room, in the hope that the ‘negotiators’ will at least offer one another a biscuit. Powell describes a time in the first stages of the negotiations where all of Paisley, McGuinness and Adams were at number ten. “Obviously they wouldn’t be in the same room” and once, whilst Blair was talking to Paisley in the Cabinet Office, Powell looked out of the window to see McGuinness and Adams “trying to master the art of skateboarding on Euan or Nicky Blair’s board in the garden”. He remembers having to shuffle them back inside through a window so Paisley wouldn’t see. It’s easy to laugh now, now that we know the ending. But for more than ten years, Powell reckons he devoted at least some time to Northern Ireland “on average every other day” and flew in and out “at least once a month”.

He would agree to meet the party leaders in rooms and locations of their choice. “Old houses on the border… that sort of thing”. For years Powell went in and out of Northern Ireland completely unnoticed. He was the self-proclaimed “submarine” orchestrating proceedings beneath the surface. Adams supposes that Powell was effective because he had Blair’s authority but was constantly engaged with the problems in Ireland. “He was in and out of here secretly on numerous occasions… He was someone you could pick up the phone to and he was always available and there were times when I rang when I knew it wasn’t opportune because I could hear the children in the background or whatever, but he would always take the call.”

In fact it seems that the only losers of the whole peace process are the mobile phone companies. Powell’s book offers a clear idea of the vast number of calls between all parties and the importance of this contact. He reflects on his experiences in Northern Ireland and decides the clearest lesson is that we should always find ways to talk to our enemies. “The conclusion I came to, particularly looking back over my papers, over my diaries, was that one of the crucial things in this work was having a link to the IRA right from the 70s onwards. Although it wasn’t used much for large periods, there was always a way they could communicate.”

Somehow, after every gruelling 14-hour-day, Powell summoned enough energy to keep a diary. “A publisher’s fantasy – a cerebral version of the Campbell diaries, you imagine, that run right through the darkest days of the third term” writes Ian Katz of the Guardian. But those waiting to read an entry in one of the 17 bound volumes will be waiting a long time. Powell is adamant he will never publish his diaries. It is Powell the diarist however, who remembers the little anecdotes and intricate observations that create the effortless readability,

“Even if they didn’t trust me, they trusted him,” Blair says. “Sometimes McGuinness would take things from him that they wouldn’t take from me.”

But a plonker Powell is not. The youngest of four children, he may have learned some of his savvy and proven negotiating skills from any of his three very successful older brothers. He is regularly described as an anti-establishment figure though enjoyed a safely establishment upbringing. Despite modelling himself on his left-ish brother Chris (who founded and ran a lucrative advertising agency), he followed his eldest, more establishment brother Charles to Oxford to gain a 2:1 in history. “It was one of the greatest tragedies of my life,” says Powell, “I remember finding out and being devastated”. It is perhaps by no coincidence that Powell’s role for Blair was almost identical to that which Charles had performed at Margaret Thatcher’s number ten. Remarkably he never sought his brother’s advice before starting as Chief of Staff, to which he comments was “probably part of my resistance to taking lessons from my older brother”.

There is no doubt that there are many stars of the Irish peace process, from all parties, and Powell would never want to suggest otherwise. But there is also no doubt that he was one of the shiniest. Tall and gangly with a distinctive mop of greying tight curls, there is no question that ten years of being at the epicentre of power and responsibility has taken its toll. But somehow he’s still going. I’m not sure we’ve seen the end of Powell and his diplomatic skills.