While many folk will be recalling the people and events which led to that momentous signing in 1998, the seeds of the peace process had been sown many years previous.
Indeed, in some cases, those involved ultimately in the peace process began that journey more than a decade before the signing in the late Eighties.
One such person was my late father, Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, a former North Antrim UUP MLA for 13 years and a past Chief Whip of the Party in the Northern Ireland Forum for Political Dialogue, who died in September 2018.
In fact, this column is the tale of how I was almost caught spying on a Government Minister who was at my parents’ home for secret talks in the 1980s.
This is not to decry or minimise the work which many other supposed back channels on all sides were involved in; this is just the personal record of one such person; one cog in the mighty machine which became the peace process.
When Brian Mawhinney, then Tory MP for Peterborough, was dispatched to the Northern Ireland Office in the months after the signing of the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985, I was already established as the Education Correspondent at the Belfast News Letter.
Mawhinney, as a junior minister at the NIO, was given the education portfolio, which naturally brought him into contact with me on a regular basis.
As Education Correspondent, I developed the ethos that while bad news could be good news, good news could become terrific news depending on the way it was presented.
In doing so, I used the tactic of the Monday Big Read (two-page specials which looked positively on aspects of education in Northern Ireland).
Indeed, in some cases, those involved ultimately in the peace process began that journey more than a decade before the signing in the late Eighties.
One such person was my late father, Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, a former North Antrim UUP MLA for 13 years and a past Chief Whip of the Party in the Northern Ireland Forum for Political Dialogue, who died in September 2018.
 |
IMG_0361.jpg - My father, right, the
Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, with former UUP leader James Molyneaux at a Royal
Black function in Doagh, Co Antrim, in the 1980s. |
This is not to decry or minimise the work which many other supposed back channels on all sides were involved in; this is just the personal record of one such person; one cog in the mighty machine which became the peace process.
When Brian Mawhinney, then Tory MP for Peterborough, was dispatched to the Northern Ireland Office in the months after the signing of the Anglo-Irish Agreement of 1985, I was already established as the Education Correspondent at the Belfast News Letter.
Mawhinney, as a junior minister at the NIO, was given the education portfolio, which naturally brought him into contact with me on a regular basis.
As Education Correspondent, I developed the ethos that while bad news could be good news, good news could become terrific news depending on the way it was presented.
In doing so, I used the tactic of the Monday Big Read (two-page specials which looked positively on aspects of education in Northern Ireland).
My strategy was to try and carve out a unique niche through the use of these positive two-page features.
They soon brought me to the attention of Mawhinney in that I was an education reporter who was prepared to look positively at what was being achieved in Northern Ireland education rather than me adopt the tactic of constantly using the teaching unions to bash the NIO.
Mawhinney also got to know that I was, like him, a born again Christian, and that my dad was an Ulster Unionist councillor in Ballymena, and a Presbyterian minister. All these factors helped form a very effective working relationship with the Belfast-born Conservative MP.
In fact, reflecting on our relationship there was only one issue which ever brought me into conflict with Mawhinney and that was his decision in the late 1980s to abolish corporal punishment in schools. As Education Correspondent, I opposed such a move believing it would seriously dilute the authority of the teacher in the classroom.
Yes, I know many folk of my vintage can recall tales of severe batterings from hot-tempered teachers during the era when corporal punishment was legal. But that’s a debate for another day.
My articles on this specific issue once led to a tense standoff meeting at Stormont Castle when he summoned me there to account for one of my articles which was highly critical of his decision.
Apart from this one very tense meeting, my relationship with Mawhinney was excellent. But could it also be used to help kick-start the peace process so far as Unionism was concerned?
In the aftermath of the Hillsborough Accord of November 1985, political Unionism snubbed the NIO. There was a rule that there was to be no talking between Unionist elected representatives and NIO ministers.
But in 1986, especially after the disastrous March Day of Action which descended into violence between loyalists and the police, many middle class folk in the pro-Union community became disillusioned with the street tactics of the Ulster Says No campaign.
Electorally, the UUP was still the number one political voice for Unionism and would remain ahead of the DUP until the 2003 Assembly poll.
However, it became clear that some liberal-thinking devolutionists with UUP sympathies had become concerned about the clear stagnation between political unionism and the NIO. They attempted to clear this logjam by starting a series of secret talks with the NIO.
Looking back, was this the first seeds being sown in what would eventually become known as civic unionism, or modern-day liberal unionism?
However, Molyneaux, as a staunch integrationist, was concerned about the nature of the outcome of such talks. He felt some of these devolutionists may negotiate some form of devolution for Northern Ireland which would seriously weaken the Union - a type of Sunningdale Mark Two in which Dublin would pull the strings.
After all, the Anglo-Irish Agreement has witnessed the creation of the Maryfield Secretariat near Belfast which was giving Dublin a real say in the running of Northern Ireland affairs.
And what were the Unionists doing? They were tramping the wet streets of Northern Ireland with their Ulster Says No and Ulster Still Says No campaigns, and achieving nothing!
Many Unionist councillors were either preventing business being properly done in council chambers, or were snubbing NIO ministers and officials when they visited areas. Again, nothing was being gained for Unionism politically.
Molyneaux was a frequent visitor to our home. He and dad had built a very effective working relationship though their respective roles in the Loyal Orders, especially the Royal Black Institution.
At that time in the Eighties, there were rumours of talks between SDLP leader John Hume and Sinn Fein president Gerry Adams about bringing republicanism in from the political cold.
The fear Molyneaux expressed was if these progressed to such a degree and some of the more liberal devolutionists within Unionism got a deal, the Unionist Right-wing would be severely weakened and the UUP could be drastically overtaken by Paisley senior’s DUP at the ballot box.Dad and I emphasised to Molyneaux that while we respected his integrationist principles and rule from Westminster, Unionists in Northern Ireland needed to enter a talks process.
The problem, as I saw it, was that the wrong ideological type of Unionists were supposedly talking to the NIO. I saw that my first task in the Eighties was to scupper the perceived liberals who were involved in these initial discussions so that they could be replaced with more hardline negotiators from the UUP’s Right-wing.
When I joined the North Antrim Young Unionists in 1977 as a teenager, the movement in that constituency was dominated by liberal Unionists.
Over the next decade, the UUP Right-wingers gradually gained control of the North Antrim YUs. Many of us had dual membership of the Right-wing pressure group within the UUP, the Ulster Monday Club. Again, I’ll leave the debate over journalists in political parties for another day!
It was not the talks process I intended to wreck, merely to mute those taking part in them. And so just before the summer of 1987 I began writing a series of contentious articles in the News Letter dubbed ‘the secret talks saga’.
They proved to be ethically very controversial and I never named anyone from the Unionist side who was involved. My journalistic sources provided names, but they were always to be referred to as ‘devolutionists’.
Through the use of rumour and innuendo, but no names, I targeted individuals all of whom were intelligent and competent negotiators, but in Molyneaux’s opinion, were too liberal ideologically.
One laughable point was that some unionists did contact me and angrily told me they would sue me if I named them in my articles; I was amused because their names had not been given to me by my sources! Where they just full of their own self-importance, or had they ‘outed’ themselves?
On one occasion as we travelled in Molyneaux’s police vehicle we started a small-talk conversation in the back seat of his MP’s unmarked police car while we exchanged notes in the notebooks about those allegedly involved in the secret talks with the NIO.
I had to endure a lot of criticism from journalistic colleagues who did not appreciate my grammatical use of innuendo to scupper such talks. Indeed, I eventually had to stop writing about the ‘secret talks saga’, not because of criticism from colleagues, but because of an incident one day in Ballymena involving dad.
In 1987, dad was enjoying his first term as an UUP councillor on the DUP-dominated Ballymena Borough Council. While he was still conducting evangelical Gospel services, his full-time job was as a lecturer in media, history and religious education in the Ballymena Technical College.
Given my good working relationship with Mawhinney, Molyneaux agreed that I could approach Mawhinney to see if he would be willing to meet my dad for talks at my parents’ home near Clough, in Co Antrim.
As I was not married at the time and was still living at home with my parents, the cover story would be that Mawhinney had come to my home to discuss education matters with me as Education Correspondent.
Using the Education Correspondent/NIO Education Minister channel, and with Molyneaux’s full knowledge, a meeting was arranged between Mawhinney and dad. I would be dad’s note taker on the strict understanding that none of the notes would be reproduced in the News Letter.
If the DUP got suspicious that dad was having a meeting with Mawhinney and if there was a leak, then the cover story would be used that it was me that Mawhinney was meeting because of some education story I had published in the News Letter and that the DUP had merely confused Bob Coulter with John Coulter as I lived in the bungalow, too.
The purpose of the meeting was to kick-start the talks process with the NIO, but not give liberal concessions. Mawhinney’s ministerial car was hidden in the garage at my parents’ home so that passing motorists would not see it parked outside.
While my parents’ home was built in the north Antrim hills, the living room contained a large bay window which looked out over the Braid valley. It was a very relaxing location for the talks.
There was even a jovial ice breaker. While Prime Minister Maggie Thatcher had banned Peter Wright’s controversial book, Spycatcher, a relative had got me a copy from the United States and it was undiplomatically placed on the coffee table in front of Mawhinney.
Wright had been a former assistant director of MI5 and his banned book was a candid autobiography of a senior intelligence officer. Thankfully, Mawhinney saw the joke!
After the unusual small-talk about the magnificent view from the bay window, the talks began in earnest. It soon became clear that the fledgling Hume/Adams talks were progressing better than anything the Unionists could offer.
After all, the Springmount Talks as I dubbed them were very much in the embryo stage. At one stage, in spite of dad’s polite negotiating manner, it seemed they would collapse without any agreement on a way forward. It appeared that Mawhinney wanted the UUP to make the same concessions the NIO had supposedly gained from the previous talks with the alleged ‘devolutionists’.
But this was an emphatic ‘no, no’ from Molyneaux. Ironically, it was my mum who saved the day! At just the precise moment, she knocked on the door of the living room and produced a couple of her famous Presbyterian home-made apple tarts!
Talks on hold; enjoy the tarts, admire the view once more. Situation calmed. Once the actual talking began again, mum’s tarts had done the trick and the conversation progressed more smoothly!
Dad outlined carefully and politely what the UUP would be prepared to work towards. Mawhinney and his senior civil servant listened intently. I could tell by watching Mawhinney’s body language that he was keenly interested in what dad was outlining - but had it sunk in?
After more intense talking, Mawhinney excused himself to go to the bathroom. He was directed towards my parents’ bathroom, affectionately known as the Blue Lagoon because of the colour of the tiles!
Some 20 minutes elapsed and Mawhinney had still not returned. Surely he could not have had a tummy reaction to mum’s apple tarts! I decided to investigate. The Blue Lagoon door was still shut and as he was nowhere to be found in the bungalow, it was logical to assume he was still inside.
I knew the lock on the Blue Lagoon was working perfectly so it was not an embarrassing case that an NIO minister had got himself stuck in the toilet of an Ulster Unionist councillor!
I was about to go back into the bay window living room when I could hear a mumbling coming from the Blue Lagoon. Slowly I crept along the carpet to the Blue Lagoon and pressed my ear against the door.
Was Mawhinney sitting on the toilet talking to himself? It was then that I remembered that these were the days before neat mobile phones which could fit smoothly into your pocket. When Mawhinney had asked to be excused, he had taken a chunky cordless phone with him.
He was certainly talking to someone in the toilet, but who? I decided to take a gamble; I would press my ear to the door in the hope I was not caught by the Minister suddenly opening the Blue Lagoon door.
It was then that I heard Mawhinney issue those immortal words: “Prime Minister.” It was immediately clear Mawhinney was on a phone to Margaret Thatcher relaying the content of the talks with dad.
It was time to get back to the bay window living room without being discovered. I had only taken my seat a few minutes when Mawhinney returned. Mawhinney was certainly in an upbeat mood and the remainder of the meeting was merely summarising the two sides’ positions.
It was agreed that future meetings would be conducted via civil servants. There would be no face to face meetings between Molyneaux and Mawhinney - except in the corridors of Westminster.
Dad would travel to Molyneaux’s home in Crumlin for a briefing and then arrange to meet civil servants at certain roundabouts, usually at late hours.
On one occasion, it took so long for Molyneaux to put together the briefing notes to relay to the NIO that dad fell asleep on Molyneaux’s sofa!
Some DUP folk did find out about the Mawhinney meeting at Clough, but the cover story of Mawhinney meeting me about education held firm.
The Clough meeting did end on a light-hearted moment as Mawhinney was leaving. Jokingly, I produced our copy of Spycatcher and asked Mawhinney if he would autograph it, to which the civil servant promptly jibed - “
And when shall I release your resignation statement Minister !” Needless to say, Mawhinney was shrewd enough not to autograph a contentious book which had been banned by his boss, The Iron Lady.
They soon brought me to the attention of Mawhinney in that I was an education reporter who was prepared to look positively at what was being achieved in Northern Ireland education rather than me adopt the tactic of constantly using the teaching unions to bash the NIO.
 |
| My
father, left seated, the Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, during his time as UUP
Chief Whip in the Northern Ireland Forum, along with Ken Maginnis and Lord Trimble in 1996. |
In fact, reflecting on our relationship there was only one issue which ever brought me into conflict with Mawhinney and that was his decision in the late 1980s to abolish corporal punishment in schools. As Education Correspondent, I opposed such a move believing it would seriously dilute the authority of the teacher in the classroom.
Yes, I know many folk of my vintage can recall tales of severe batterings from hot-tempered teachers during the era when corporal punishment was legal. But that’s a debate for another day.
My articles on this specific issue once led to a tense standoff meeting at Stormont Castle when he summoned me there to account for one of my articles which was highly critical of his decision.
Apart from this one very tense meeting, my relationship with Mawhinney was excellent. But could it also be used to help kick-start the peace process so far as Unionism was concerned?
In the aftermath of the Hillsborough Accord of November 1985, political Unionism snubbed the NIO. There was a rule that there was to be no talking between Unionist elected representatives and NIO ministers.
The UUP leader at that time, Jim Molyneaux, had taken a personal political ‘hit’ when Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher signed the accord behind his back. I recall ‘Gentleman Jim’ sitting in the kitchen of our home near Ballymena virtually in tears in the days after the signing of the Hillsborough Accord.
In spite of this political ‘kick in the teeth’, Lagan Valley MP Jim and his fellow UUP MP for South Down Enoch Powell remained committed integrationists, believing that power should ultimately rest with Westminster.
In spite of this political ‘kick in the teeth’, Lagan Valley MP Jim and his fellow UUP MP for South Down Enoch Powell remained committed integrationists, believing that power should ultimately rest with Westminster.
 |
| My father, left, the Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, during his time as Mayor of Ballymena, in discussion with then Tory Prime Minister John Major, right, and DUP leader Rev Dr Ian Paisley. |
Electorally, the UUP was still the number one political voice for Unionism and would remain ahead of the DUP until the 2003 Assembly poll.
However, it became clear that some liberal-thinking devolutionists with UUP sympathies had become concerned about the clear stagnation between political unionism and the NIO. They attempted to clear this logjam by starting a series of secret talks with the NIO.
Looking back, was this the first seeds being sown in what would eventually become known as civic unionism, or modern-day liberal unionism?
However, Molyneaux, as a staunch integrationist, was concerned about the nature of the outcome of such talks. He felt some of these devolutionists may negotiate some form of devolution for Northern Ireland which would seriously weaken the Union - a type of Sunningdale Mark Two in which Dublin would pull the strings.
After all, the Anglo-Irish Agreement has witnessed the creation of the Maryfield Secretariat near Belfast which was giving Dublin a real say in the running of Northern Ireland affairs.
And what were the Unionists doing? They were tramping the wet streets of Northern Ireland with their Ulster Says No and Ulster Still Says No campaigns, and achieving nothing!
Many Unionist councillors were either preventing business being properly done in council chambers, or were snubbing NIO ministers and officials when they visited areas. Again, nothing was being gained for Unionism politically.
Molyneaux was a frequent visitor to our home. He and dad had built a very effective working relationship though their respective roles in the Loyal Orders, especially the Royal Black Institution.
At that time in the Eighties, there were rumours of talks between SDLP leader John Hume and Sinn Fein president Gerry Adams about bringing republicanism in from the political cold.
 |
My father, left, the Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, pictured at a Loyal Order function in Clough in the
|
The problem, as I saw it, was that the wrong ideological type of Unionists were supposedly talking to the NIO. I saw that my first task in the Eighties was to scupper the perceived liberals who were involved in these initial discussions so that they could be replaced with more hardline negotiators from the UUP’s Right-wing.
When I joined the North Antrim Young Unionists in 1977 as a teenager, the movement in that constituency was dominated by liberal Unionists.
Over the next decade, the UUP Right-wingers gradually gained control of the North Antrim YUs. Many of us had dual membership of the Right-wing pressure group within the UUP, the Ulster Monday Club. Again, I’ll leave the debate over journalists in political parties for another day!
It was not the talks process I intended to wreck, merely to mute those taking part in them. And so just before the summer of 1987 I began writing a series of contentious articles in the News Letter dubbed ‘the secret talks saga’.
They proved to be ethically very controversial and I never named anyone from the Unionist side who was involved. My journalistic sources provided names, but they were always to be referred to as ‘devolutionists’.
Through the use of rumour and innuendo, but no names, I targeted individuals all of whom were intelligent and competent negotiators, but in Molyneaux’s opinion, were too liberal ideologically.
One laughable point was that some unionists did contact me and angrily told me they would sue me if I named them in my articles; I was amused because their names had not been given to me by my sources! Where they just full of their own self-importance, or had they ‘outed’ themselves?
On one occasion as we travelled in Molyneaux’s police vehicle we started a small-talk conversation in the back seat of his MP’s unmarked police car while we exchanged notes in the notebooks about those allegedly involved in the secret talks with the NIO.
I had to endure a lot of criticism from journalistic colleagues who did not appreciate my grammatical use of innuendo to scupper such talks. Indeed, I eventually had to stop writing about the ‘secret talks saga’, not because of criticism from colleagues, but because of an incident one day in Ballymena involving dad.
In 1987, dad was enjoying his first term as an UUP councillor on the DUP-dominated Ballymena Borough Council. While he was still conducting evangelical Gospel services, his full-time job was as a lecturer in media, history and religious education in the Ballymena Technical College.
Dad was walking alone in Ballymena town centre when he was approached by a man with an English accent that he had never met before. After some ‘how are you’ small-talk, the man made a remark: “Those are some stories John is writing in the News Letter.” - a reference to my articles on the ‘secret talks saga’.
Dad merely nodded. Then the man with the English accent turned away, but as he did, he said: “It would be an awful pity if a juggernaut hit John’s car on the way to the News Letter!”
When I relayed this incident to my line management at the News Letter, the decision was quickly taken to drop any further ‘secret talks saga’ stories. But the aim had been achieved. The influence of liberal devolutionists allegedly involved in such negotiations had been spiked!
The dilemma now was, talks are needed, but who can replace the supposed liberal talkers? Molyneaux would have to tread very carefully because if the DUP got knowledge that UUP folk were trying to kick-start talks with the NIO when the joint Unionist policy was ‘no talking’, it could be very electorally damaging for the UUP.
Dad merely nodded. Then the man with the English accent turned away, but as he did, he said: “It would be an awful pity if a juggernaut hit John’s car on the way to the News Letter!”
When I relayed this incident to my line management at the News Letter, the decision was quickly taken to drop any further ‘secret talks saga’ stories. But the aim had been achieved. The influence of liberal devolutionists allegedly involved in such negotiations had been spiked!
The dilemma now was, talks are needed, but who can replace the supposed liberal talkers? Molyneaux would have to tread very carefully because if the DUP got knowledge that UUP folk were trying to kick-start talks with the NIO when the joint Unionist policy was ‘no talking’, it could be very electorally damaging for the UUP.
 |
| My
father, left, the Rev Dr Robert Coulter MBE, pictured in mid Eighties at talks
at our family home in North Antrim with UUP leader James Molyneaux, centre, and former UUP Mayor of Ballymoney, Joe Gaston. |
As I was not married at the time and was still living at home with my parents, the cover story would be that Mawhinney had come to my home to discuss education matters with me as Education Correspondent.
Using the Education Correspondent/NIO Education Minister channel, and with Molyneaux’s full knowledge, a meeting was arranged between Mawhinney and dad. I would be dad’s note taker on the strict understanding that none of the notes would be reproduced in the News Letter.
If the DUP got suspicious that dad was having a meeting with Mawhinney and if there was a leak, then the cover story would be used that it was me that Mawhinney was meeting because of some education story I had published in the News Letter and that the DUP had merely confused Bob Coulter with John Coulter as I lived in the bungalow, too.
The purpose of the meeting was to kick-start the talks process with the NIO, but not give liberal concessions. Mawhinney’s ministerial car was hidden in the garage at my parents’ home so that passing motorists would not see it parked outside.
While my parents’ home was built in the north Antrim hills, the living room contained a large bay window which looked out over the Braid valley. It was a very relaxing location for the talks.
There was even a jovial ice breaker. While Prime Minister Maggie Thatcher had banned Peter Wright’s controversial book, Spycatcher, a relative had got me a copy from the United States and it was undiplomatically placed on the coffee table in front of Mawhinney.
Wright had been a former assistant director of MI5 and his banned book was a candid autobiography of a senior intelligence officer. Thankfully, Mawhinney saw the joke!
After the unusual small-talk about the magnificent view from the bay window, the talks began in earnest. It soon became clear that the fledgling Hume/Adams talks were progressing better than anything the Unionists could offer.
After all, the Springmount Talks as I dubbed them were very much in the embryo stage. At one stage, in spite of dad’s polite negotiating manner, it seemed they would collapse without any agreement on a way forward. It appeared that Mawhinney wanted the UUP to make the same concessions the NIO had supposedly gained from the previous talks with the alleged ‘devolutionists’.
But this was an emphatic ‘no, no’ from Molyneaux. Ironically, it was my mum who saved the day! At just the precise moment, she knocked on the door of the living room and produced a couple of her famous Presbyterian home-made apple tarts!
Talks on hold; enjoy the tarts, admire the view once more. Situation calmed. Once the actual talking began again, mum’s tarts had done the trick and the conversation progressed more smoothly!
Dad outlined carefully and politely what the UUP would be prepared to work towards. Mawhinney and his senior civil servant listened intently. I could tell by watching Mawhinney’s body language that he was keenly interested in what dad was outlining - but had it sunk in?
After more intense talking, Mawhinney excused himself to go to the bathroom. He was directed towards my parents’ bathroom, affectionately known as the Blue Lagoon because of the colour of the tiles!
Some 20 minutes elapsed and Mawhinney had still not returned. Surely he could not have had a tummy reaction to mum’s apple tarts! I decided to investigate. The Blue Lagoon door was still shut and as he was nowhere to be found in the bungalow, it was logical to assume he was still inside.
I knew the lock on the Blue Lagoon was working perfectly so it was not an embarrassing case that an NIO minister had got himself stuck in the toilet of an Ulster Unionist councillor!
I was about to go back into the bay window living room when I could hear a mumbling coming from the Blue Lagoon. Slowly I crept along the carpet to the Blue Lagoon and pressed my ear against the door.
Was Mawhinney sitting on the toilet talking to himself? It was then that I remembered that these were the days before neat mobile phones which could fit smoothly into your pocket. When Mawhinney had asked to be excused, he had taken a chunky cordless phone with him.
He was certainly talking to someone in the toilet, but who? I decided to take a gamble; I would press my ear to the door in the hope I was not caught by the Minister suddenly opening the Blue Lagoon door.
It was then that I heard Mawhinney issue those immortal words: “Prime Minister.” It was immediately clear Mawhinney was on a phone to Margaret Thatcher relaying the content of the talks with dad.
It was time to get back to the bay window living room without being discovered. I had only taken my seat a few minutes when Mawhinney returned. Mawhinney was certainly in an upbeat mood and the remainder of the meeting was merely summarising the two sides’ positions.
It was agreed that future meetings would be conducted via civil servants. There would be no face to face meetings between Molyneaux and Mawhinney - except in the corridors of Westminster.
Dad would travel to Molyneaux’s home in Crumlin for a briefing and then arrange to meet civil servants at certain roundabouts, usually at late hours.
On one occasion, it took so long for Molyneaux to put together the briefing notes to relay to the NIO that dad fell asleep on Molyneaux’s sofa!
Some DUP folk did find out about the Mawhinney meeting at Clough, but the cover story of Mawhinney meeting me about education held firm.
The Clough meeting did end on a light-hearted moment as Mawhinney was leaving. Jokingly, I produced our copy of Spycatcher and asked Mawhinney if he would autograph it, to which the civil servant promptly jibed - “
And when shall I release your resignation statement Minister !” Needless to say, Mawhinney was shrewd enough not to autograph a contentious book which had been banned by his boss, The Iron Lady.
 |
Follow Dr John Coulter on Twitter @JohnAHCoulter Listen to commentator Dr John Coulter’s programme, Call In Coulter, every Saturday morning around 10.15 am on Belfast’s Christian radio station, Sunshine 1049 FM. Listen online. |
 marks the Silver Jubilee of the signing of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998 which supposedly heralded ...&p[url]=https://www.thepensivequill.com/2023/04/snooping-on-mawhinney-in-blue-lagoon.html&p[images][0]=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpuP8mj0oV5ghTm5UvyDmx0Ss95g3gmVQJb6qQV-zFK40Ejvzd2CxgiCVMK90yBrLYilfLe-hHPZmuE4lrqI0HOceghOQ5VFvhpL_CZzmdNVClkVuQwduCUL9YDJJSYNqpleuu3vqHsCQyP23LFZ7iz3Ki96mihXmtfbir-odm3qtfXcgJ-W4GcSv/s1600/01%20Quill%20Hand.png){kind=link}
Fascinating bit of history, John.
ReplyDeleteWolfie, I felt the same. Great read.
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