Peace itself is the prize: a Nobel for John Hume.

It was a great day to be in Derry. All week, speculation about the Nobel Peace Prize had been a part of every conversation as headlines in the Belfast papers tipped John Hume as the most likely recipient. But there was still the fear of jinxing the outcome so that oblique references were the order of the day. "Any news about it?" John Hume's answer to those who alluded to the possibility was, "The peace itself is the prize." As late as the night before, Hume waved off any attempts at handicapping the race. When a friend toasted "you know what," he shook his head. Surely, he said, the committee had already notified the winner; after all, the announcement was now only twelve hours away. A young French journalist replied that no, this was one secret that did not leak. Until the announcement in Oslo at 10 A.M. on October 16, no one would know for sure. Again Hume repeated that although international recognition for the peace process in Northern Ireland would be a wonderful thing, because it could help strengthen that process, he had not entered politics thirty years before expecting prizes or rewards.

Which was a good thing, because there were none going for that young teacher drawn into the electoral fray by a sense of responsibility to the people of the city who had shaped him. "My life changed because I passed an exam," he says. The British Labor government had introduced free education in 1947 for those who qualified by scoring well on the "11 +" exam. He did and entered Saint Columb's College, a grammar school (grades seven through twelve). Hume attended with Seamus Heaney, who would win the 1996 Nobel Prize for literature. Heaney recalled this early connection: "When I knew John Hume at Saint Columb's College, Derry, in the 1950s, he already displayed the qualities that led him to this new eminence. You had the impression of somebody with a very steady moral and intellectual keel under him, somebody reliable and consistent, who operated from a principled and definite mental center" (Irish News, October 17).

This does not negate the lighter side of that boy. His Aunt Bella, his sisters, and the "mates" he grew up with in the Glen remember him as a great singer and storyteller. He was enterprising enough to act as a tipster for the U.S. Marines, based in a camp near his street during World War II, when they attended races at the illegal greyhound track nearby. "I was so wee," Humes recalls, "that no one noticed me watching to see which dog would get a shot from Dr. Iodine. I told the Marines, that's the winner - bet on him! Afterwards, they gave me sweets to take home. They taught us all to play baseball."

All the while, though, he was aware of the injustice that blighted the lives of his family and neighbors. His father could find no employment in a city where Catholic men were denied jobs while their wives worked in shirt factories to support their families. Annie Doherty Hume did piecework at home while raising her seven children. John Hume remembers the exorbitant rates of interest she and her sisters paid shopkeepers for food and clothes bought on credit. He would cite these as the reason he founded Derry's first credit union and then helped spark the credit-union movement throughout Ireland. He served as the president of the Credit Union League of Ireland from 1964 to 1968. He still considers this one of his proudest accomplishments: "If I had done nothing else in public life, my work with the credit unions would satisfy me."

Next came housing. Because of gerrymandering and a local electoral system that granted votes only to those who paid property taxes, Catholics had little voice in the municipal government that decided who would get a house. "Housing had to be taken out of the hands of politicians." The first civil rights marches had this as a goal. In addition, Hume helped form a cooperative that built hundreds of new units - a feat government had said was impossible. Simultaneously came the crusade for "one person, one vote." Hume, as a young teacher living at home where his father as the rent payer had the only vote, had watched the Unionist mayor of Derry cast forty-seven votes - one for himself and the others allotted to him because of the businesses he owned.

Hume modeled his civil rights activities on those of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and a commitment for nonviolent change was his "principled and definite mental center." When it became obvious that he should stand as a candidate for the Northern Ireland Parliament, Hume hung back. He often referred to a nationalist rally he had gone to with his father as a child. He had been stirred by the speeches, the music, the flags and banners. But his father warned, "Stay away from all that, son. People can't eat a flag."

But progress in jobs, housing, and education depended on representation. So on February 24, 1969, Hume won the first of many elections. Since 1979 he has represented Northern Ireland in the European Parliament (see Commonweal, December 14, 1984 for a discussion of his second campaign for Europe), and since 1983 he has served as member of the House of Commons for the constituency of Foyle, which includes Derry. As he reformed and rebuilt his city, however, logic told him that without peace no real progress was possible. He analyzed the problem and came up with principles that sound so simple that critics sometimes miss their profundity. Difference is an accident of birth. Accommodation of difference is the only answer. There can be no such thing as victory in a divided society. The island of Ireland without its people is just a piece of earth - it's a divided people that must be united through agreement and respect for diversity. Identify yourself by what you are instead of what you are not. Irish patriotism has too often meant dying for Ireland. John Hume wanted young people to live for Ireland, to shed their sweat, not their blood.

When journalists would become impatient with hearing these phrases over and over, Hume pointed out that he was a teacher and would continue to repeat the lessons until the students understood. For those who wanted a fuller expression of his thought, there was his book A New Ireland (Roberts Rinehart) and virtually every positive document on Northern Ireland produced by the British, Irish, and U.S. governments during the past twenty years bore his imprint. He gave both supporters and opponents a new way of thinking and speaking. As Heaney goes on to say, "He never seemed in a hurry, never spent time scoring points, and always trusted the capacity of his political opponents as well as his constituents to take an extra trusting step."

And so at 10 A.M. on October 16, while on his way to a conference on economic development in Derry, John Hume got the news that he had won the Nobel Peace Prize. Because David Trimble had taken that "extra trusting step" and said "yes" to peace, he would share the prize with Hume. Sinn Fein President Gerry Adams's reaction to the announcement of the prize speaks to his appreciation of Hume's steadiness: "There would be no peace process but for his courage and vision. Despite great personal attacks on his integrity and humanity, John never wavered in his commitment to peace."

As congratulations came from others who had contributed to the peace process - Irish President Mary McAleese, Taoiseach Bertie Ahern, British Prime Minister Tony Blair, President Bill Clinton, and Senator George Mitchell - their language reflected a lesson learned: reconciliation, healing process, accommodation of difference, the coexistence of both traditions. These were the phrases they used, and they were Hume's.

For Hume himself, the prize was for the people of Northern Ireland. "I see it not as an award to myself but as a very powerful international approval of the peace process." He also mentioned Derry. "Given my city and what my city has suffered throughout all of these years, and indeed before these years, I believe it is a great statement in support of Derry as well."

Yes, and Derry celebrated, glowing at the pictures of John and Pat Hume on every front page, and happy that Pat had spoken to the television reporters, something she usually prefers not to do. She talked of how John had continued on through the difficult times of the mid-1990s. This was when Hume's efforts to bring about an IRA cease-fire through talks with Gerry Adams were misunderstood and attacked. But to quote Heaney again, John Hume "stood his ground with integrity." Later Hume said that if talking to one man could save even one life, he had to try - the cease-fire and the Good Friday agreement were the rewards of his efforts. Perhaps only Pat Hume really knew what reservoir of inner strength he had called on to stay the course.

Hume was obviously enjoying himself as he went from Derry that morning and gave a previously scheduled address to school girls in Belfast. Perfect - teaching again! At Mass that Sunday, Pat and John Hume heard Paul's letter to Timothy: "Stay with this task whether convenient or inconvenient - correcting, reproving, appealing - constantly teaching and never losing patience." It's an instruction John Hume has always followed.

Mary Pat Kelly is a writer and filmmaker. Her recently published novel is Special Intentions (Du Four Editions).