Knocking the Sense Out of Violence : Real Anglo-Irish Effort Could Deflate Value of Ulster Terror

Coincidentally, the first shooting of an Israeli soldier by Palestinians during the current uprising came just one day after the Irish Republican Army killing of two undercover British soldiers, believed to be on surveillance duty at an IRA funeral and suspected of far worse by the mourners.

Looking for a cheap win in Israel’s losing media war for world opinion, a leader of the ultra-nationalist group Gush Emunim quickly tried to capture the sympathy of people still recoiling under the shock of the Belfast killings. “Maybe now,”

he remarked, “the British public will understand the sort of problem facing Israel.”

John Stalker, the Manchester detective sent to investigate the killing of a 17-year-old youth by the Royal Ulster Constabulary, then hung out to dry by the Thatcher government when he discredited the official version of self-defense, seized an international parallel marking British behavior in Northern Ireland rather differently. “This is the act of a Central American assassination squad,” observed the disillusioned investigator, “truly a police force out of control.”

Clearly, despite the continuing momentum of U.S.-Soviet talks aimed at reducing long-range nuclear arsenals, the world does not seem appreciably safer. Political violence today, fueled by historic enmities and long-endured military occupations, is on the upswing. But it is not as senseless as it seems.

In Northern Ireland, the political violence is coldly calculated on all sides. Unionist violence advertises the “holy war” of retribution that the Protestant paramilitary minions would bring in Ulster against the Catholics should Westminster withdraw its troops, or worse, sever Northern Ireland’s tie with the United Kingdom. Republican violence mobilizes new generations in the north to keep alive a nationalist dream of a unified Ireland, forces the political elites in the Irish republic to recognize they cannot avoid the issues of the six counties of the north, and provides the hard edge of support and visibility for broader efforts to reduce social and economic discrimination.

Violence condoned or committed by British forces is, in this context, the most senseless, although it helps keep the pot boiling and reassures the Protestant community. The constancy of violence, itself, justifies the British presence. And unlike the Israelis, who really do believe that they face a security threat, the English do not seem spiritually tortured by nearly two decades of at least quasi-occupation.

Even after the latest round of violence and misconduct, the most recent debate in Parliament focused on security and the narrow question of how the constabulary and the military would best ensure the very limited goal of nonviolence at partisan funerals.

More generally, official opinion in England and Ireland is directed at the issue of Anglo-Irish cooperation in keeping the lid on affairs in the north. Dublin is increasingly uneasy over the direction of events since the agreements of November, 1985. London was losing interest, at least before last week. It is easy to see why.

As a prelude to the agreements, the Irish government in the early 1980s convened the New Ireland Forum, a commission that included Catholic moderates from the north and representatives of the republic’s three main political parties. The result was a remarkably thoughtful if necessarily tortured report, pounded out by a group representing a cross-section of the whole Ireland Catholic population, backed strongly by Ireland’s prime minister at the time, Garret FitzGerald.

Three constitutional models were offered as the basis of an enduring political solution; all were intended to integrate Protestants and address their legitimate needs. The first proposal for a unitary state resonated deeply with the republican ideal of a unified, decolonized Ireland. But it would also guarantee separation of church and state, religious toleration and political participation for Protestants. The second proposal for a federal state would devolve powers on two regional assemblies, one of which would be largely unionist, and permit loyalists to retain some identity with England. The third proposal called for dual British and Ireland sovereignty in Northern Ireland and equal responsibility by the Dublin and Westminster governments.

After two days of conferences between Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher and her Irish counterpart in November, 1984, Thatcher announced with characteristic forthrightness, “I have made it quite clear that a united Ireland was one solution that is out. A second solution was a confederation of two states. That is out. A third solution was joint authority. That is out--that is a derogation of sovereignty.”

What then is in? To date, nothing but the Anglo-Irish agreement and the continued presence of British troops in the north. The agreement has outraged the Protestants, despite the fact that the imbalance of

power between the two governments has meant that cooperation has been decidedly unilateral. Nor does the military presence, which now exceeds the lifespan of the army recruits stationed in Northern Ireland, represent any chance to end the political violence. Quite the opposite.

If the tragic events of the last week in Belfast and the last three months in Gaza and the West Bank prove anything, it is that it is high time to consider previously unthinkable steps. In the case of Britain and Ireland, this means a reinvigoration of the Anglo-Irish cooperation--with two specifications. First the British government must make clear to the loyalists that their intransigence in the face of genuine efforts of conciliation jeopardizes Westminster’s willingness to maintain union. Without this threat, unionists have no incentive to share power with Catholics in the north. Second, the political cooperation of the British and Irish governments must be backed up in the only way it really counts in Northern Ireland, by the creation of a joint Anglo-Irish peacekeeping force. Only then, can political and constitutional proposals be negotiated with any chance of success.

Of course, all of this is very much a long shot. The republicans have become reconciled to violence, the loyalists want privilege not pluralism, the Irish republic is fearful and ambivalent and the United Kingdom is the colonial power with a leader who is uncompromising and has particularly strong feelings about the IRA. Then there’s the doomsday fear of a violent backlash by a reportedly well-armed Protestant camp in Northern Ireland, leading to a blood bath. But a peacekeeping force would make that difficult and British threats would make it counterproductive. Under the circumstances, violence would be truly senseless, which it has not been in political terms thus far.

DR, Turner, The Irish Times, Dublin