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When
we finally reached the home of veteran Derry political
activist Fionnbarra O’Dochartaigh, darkness had
long since settled. It was still raining and the temperature
had dropped. We were more than pleased with the spread
Fionnbarra's mother laid down in front of us. We had
travelled to this home for a reason. It was less to
explore the specifics of this or that attack. Indeed,
had we wished, we could have asked Micky Donnelly,
who was with us in Fionnbarra's home, to detail his
experience at the hands of the Provisionals’
thought police in Derry - the 'P' Specials. Our purpose
was to try and establish a context which would serve
as a template that would help explain why an organisation
that had began its life defending communities was
now allowing its members free reign to attack those
who live within those communities.
Recently,
Liam Clarke of the Sunday Times, writing on
the UDA, referred to the observations of former revolutionary
Regis Debray. He had found that when a guerrilla organisation
fights on too long without winning or becoming completely
absorbed into politics then the temptation to engage
in corruption and racketeering becomes overwhelming.
In July a Dublin based newspaper ran a disconcerting
piece under the title ‘Godfathers of Greed.’
It
claimed that:
neither
the Dublin nor London governments seem to care that
IRA guns are now trained almost exclusively on their
own communities ...The Good Friday Agreement did
indeed deliver a peace dividend - but it is the
terrorists, and in particular the Provisional IRA,
who are cashing in on peace. Terrorist godfathers
on both sides of the sectarian divide have turned
their organisations away from their previous ideals
to cash in on criminal activities ...The Provos
have diversified their activities to such an extent
that they now rival the legendary Italian and Russian
mafias ... As a result, the terrorists' work now
closer resembles the activities of an organised
criminal mafia than an idealistic band of freedom
fighters, as the IRA likes to portray itself.
Normally,
reporting like this can be read and discarded as run
of the mill tabloid nonsense. But in this case matters
were not so simple. The paper, often disparagingly
referred to in some quarters as Sinn Fein on Sunday
because of the blatantly partisan and at times sycophantic
journalism indulged in by some of its staff, frequently
depicted Provisional republicanism in glowing terms.
Now it was saying something radically different and
its conclusions could not be so easily swept away.
In
terms of Clarke's reading of Debray, Provisional republicanism
has certainly not won and has accepted the terms that
the British state has laid down for its disengagement.
Those terms are the same as they were at any time
during the war waged by the IRA - that the British
state would only withdraw if a majority of people
in the North of Ireland wished it to do so. So while
many in the Provisional leadership have been incorporated
into working the system they sent others out to smash
- suits and tuxedos to boot - there are those whose
skills, temperaments or penchant for denims have not
led them up the political garden path. What do they
do now that ‘the revolution’ is over even
if some of the rhetoric still remains?
For
Micky Donnelly, there would appear to be much that
Debray got right. Without ever referring to the one
time comrade of Che Guevara he depicted a scenario
very like what Debray had in mind when he was writing:
In
this city there is no democratic republicanism.
The Provisionals are controlled by the three families.
They are into running the taxi service, protection
rackets, CRJ, security businesses and a wide range
of activity that most people would regard as ’criminal.’
They are trying to strike a deal with the Department
of the Environment whereby the control of the taxis
in the city will fall under their monopoly. This
means that they are pressing those pirate taxi drivers
- who are doing the double to make up their income
- out of business. It is unbelievable just how extensively
these people try to keep a grip on things and make
sure that people stay down so that they themselves
can stay on top.
He
underscored his contention by pointing to the intellectual
vibrancy that once characterised political debate
at ground level in the city. During the old Stormont
‘we could at least go into the bars and openly
debate the nature of the regime and of how it had
repressed the people. We were always able to discuss
the best form of strategy with which we could counter
the prevailing form of political rule. But now many
of us are under the cosh and fear speaking out.’
Micky Donnelly knows both the cosh and the fear that
its use is intended to generate. The Provisional IRA
once broke his leg and inflicted other injuries on
him because he had persistently expressed his views
about the shortcomings of Sinn Fein strategy. In spite
of this he remains resolute in his determination that
the Sinn Fein leadership will not silence him. Nor
have they. Despite the party’s sustained efforts
at intimidation Micky Donnelly has, as they say, continued
to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable
by refusing to be censored.
He
argues for a democratic and decentralised republicanism
which will ignore military conspiracies, leadership
cliques and which will be genuinely republican. But
what does that mean?
One
that is of the people and by that I mean one that
is not responsible for major human rights violations.
How can you respect people or represent them if
at the same time you are denying them the most basic
of human rights?
Fionnbarra
O’Dochartaigh, does not demur from what he has
heard his Civil Rights Veteran colleague say. He explained
to us that ‘it has got to the stage where the
Provisionals can no longer control people although
they are still trying very hard to do so.’ He
told us that he had been ‘called to the side’
and had been told to watch himself as his work on
the internet had been upsetting some people in the
three families and that he should stop in the interests
of his own safety. Fionnbarra felt that the person
who spoke to him had in turn been approached and asked
to deliver the warning. Fionnbarra imagines that he
would be the last person that they would want to attack
given his civil rights veteran status but ‘there
are some bad enough who would not let something like
that stand in the way.’
Fionnbarra
is of the opinion that it has been the accumulation
of a number of factors over the years that has annoyed
the local Provisionals. Holding to a radical position
that the Sinn Fein leadership has been eager to desert
in its race to become respectable like all those it
criticised over the decades, he has firmly resisted
pressure to desist from speaking out against the Good
Friday Agreement on platforms which he has shared
with Sinn Fein members. ‘They know the Agreement
meets none of their objectives so they don’t
like being publicly embarrassed about signing up for
it.’
He
speaks of an oppressive atmosphere that has descended
on Derry. ‘People will talk in corners and express
their concerns but they are afraid to speak openly.
They do not want the intimidation brought to their
door.’ In his view those who are most critical
are the families of activists who died during the
course of the conflict. Such people find it harder
to slip into self-denial. Away from the meetings,
commemorations and back slapping events they know
instinctively that what was achieved does not in any
way measure up to the sacrifices made. Families are
supposed to approve or say nothing as Sinn Fein leaders
strut about the national and international arenas
seeking praise for essentially securing what their
loved ones were sent out to kill and die in order
to destroy.
It
is sad that such a draconian cloud should hover over
this city. After I was released from prison I found
Derry an oasis in a totalitarian desert. While the
thought police were tearing around Belfast like the
book burning firemen in Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit
451, trying to extinguish any dissenting thought
before it reached the ears of the leadership, Derry
had a much more relaxed approach. It was tolerant,
its leaders more laid back in terms of alternative
viewpoints. Even Mitchel McLaughlin seemed not to
mind too much when ‘ambushed’ by former
republican prisoners from Belfast at a public meeting
organised by the Bobby Sands Discussion Group in Derry.
When the Adams leadership decided to smash the group
rather than have it promote open discussion and critique,
McLaughlin and other Derry republicans remained open
to alternative ideas. Now Derry is as aggressive as
Belfast in suppressing difference and as industrious
in churning out public figures who are fluent in gibberish.
Sinn Fein often flags up being in government as some
sort of major success, something that both authenticates
and gives meaning to the armed conflict. But are the
Provisionals really in government or is government
in them? If the gamut of repressive measures which
ranges from the murder and beatings of republicans
opposed to the Stormont state, through deionisation,
to the censorship of their critics, is employed then
the form of government Provisional republicanism resisted
has won and has merely found a more insidious way
of operationalising repression.
As
we made our way over the Foyle Bridge on our journey
back to Belfast I felt that we were merely moving
from one coordinate of totalitarian culture to another.
In both places it seemed that there was a Sinn Fein
constructed intellectual purgatory, in which a customary
disclaimer applied to all:
You
are now entering the Sinn Fein Republic of Never
Never - this is a thought free zone. The management
cannot be held accountable for what happens to you
if you think. Those who have independent thoughts
do so at their own risk. Peace Process Is Watching
You.
Capo di Tutti i Capi?: The Three Families
Bridie
McCloskey • Danny
McBearty • The
Civil Rights Veterans
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