Both swore the same oath. Both accepted the same risks. Both know that cooperation could dramatically improve their circumstances. One talks. The other remains silent. Why? That question has fascinated me for years. Not because some people become informers. There is nothing particularly mysterious about that. Human beings have always sought to avoid suffering when they can. The real mystery to me at least, is why so many people refuse. Take examples from two very different organisations.
In the American Mafia, Sammy Gravano Sammy Gravano became one of the most famous informers in Mafia history. Faced with life imprisonment, he chose cooperation. He later justified his decision by claiming that John Gotti had betrayed him and was prepared to sacrifice him to save himself. Yet in the same world there were men such as Sonny Franzese, who spent decades in prison and never became a government witness. Whatever else can be said about him, he repeatedly chose silence over self-interest.
The same contrast can be found within Irish republicanism.
Republicans such as Raymond Gilmour and Christopher Black informed. Thousands of others did not. Men such as Brendan Hughes served long years in prison without abandoning the principle that informing was unacceptable. The same pressures. The same dangers. The same possibility of freedom. Entirely different decisions.
The Mafia provides another interesting contrast. Gregory Scarpa Jr. cooperated with the FBI while imprisoned alongside convicted terrorists, including Ramzi Yousef. Rather than informing on the Mafia, he passed intelligence about terrorist activities and alleged plots he learned about in prison. Scarpa has maintained that he drew a clear distinction between betraying his own organisation and providing information he believed could save innocent lives.
Gregory Scarpa Sr spent decades secretly informing for the FBI while remaining one of the Colombo family's most feared captains. His case illustrates the other end of the spectrum from his son: where Gregory Scarpa Jr. drew a line at informing on the Mafia, Scarpa Sr. crossed it repeatedly.
Most discussions focus on the people who talk. The reasons people inform are generally easy enough to identify - Fear. Greed. Revenge. Disillusionment. Exhaustion. The desire to return to family. The desire to avoid prison. The instinct for self-preservation. None of these require much explanation. Human beings are wired to survive. Given a choice between freedom and confinement, comfort and hardship, most people will naturally gravitate towards whatever benefits them. That is not a mystery.
Why do people refuse opportunities that appear entirely rational? History is filled with examples. Men facing life sentences. Men facing the prospect of dying in prison. Men offered reduced sentences. Men offered witness protection. Men offered money. Men offered freedom. Yet they refused. Why does honour or their political belief matter more to some people than freedom? Why would a person willingly accept years, perhaps decades, of imprisonment rather than break an oath?
For some people, an oath eventually ceases to be something they have taken and becomes something they are. Breaking an oath is no longer merely changing a position. It becomes an attack on their own sense of self. To inform would not simply betray others; it would betray the person they believe themselves to be.
For some the answer appears to be belief. They continue to believe in the cause, organisation or values they embraced when they first joined. For others it is loyalty. The oath remains binding regardless of changing circumstances. For others it is identity. They simply cannot imagine themselves becoming an informer. To do so would fundamentally alter how they see themselves.
For others it may be something more difficult to define - A personal code. A sense of dignity. A refusal to betray comrades. A conviction that some lines, once crossed, can never be uncrossed.
History provides countless examples of people who shared similar beliefs and values but arrived at opposite conclusions. Some remained silent. Others talked. Even informers themselves rarely explain their decisions purely in terms of self-interest. Many insist they were betrayed first. Sammy Gravano's explanation is a good example. His account was not that he suddenly became disloyal. Rather, he argued that loyalty had already been broken by others. Whether one believes him is beside the point.
The important thing is that few informers view themselves as villains. Most have explanations. Most have grievances. Most tell stories in which cooperation became justified, necessary or unavoidable.
Yet many others have experienced the same grievances without informing. John Gotti believed he had been betrayed by bosses and still remained silent. Many republicans believed they had been betrayed by leaders and still remained silent.
The same experience often produces entirely different responses. Which brings me back to my original puzzle. Two people can swear the same oath. Fight for the same cause. Belong to the same organisation. Endure the same prison. Face the same incentives. One talks. The other remains silent.
No political theory adequately explains it. No criminal code adequately explains it. No psychological theory completely explains it.
The answer appears to lie somewhere deeper within the individual. Some people eventually decide that freedom is worth more than loyalty. Others decide that loyalty is worth more than freedom. Some place self-preservation first. Others place honour, belief or identity above self-preservation. What separates them remains unclear.
The real mystery is not Sammy Gravano. History contains countless examples of people choosing their own interests. The real mystery is Sonny Franzese. The real mystery is Brendan Hughes. The real mystery is the thousands of unnamed prisoners, republicans, gangsters, soldiers, spies and revolutionaries who could have improved their own circumstances by cooperating but refused.
Perhaps the answer lies in the words that Bobby Sands often quoted from John 15:13: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
Whether expressed through faith, loyalty, honour or conviction, perhaps that is what separates those who refuse from those who cannot. What gives some people the strength to place loyalty, honour or belief above even their own survival? After centuries of prisons, wars, revolutions and criminal conspiracies, I am still struggling to answer that question.
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| 🕮 Frankie McKillen is a Belfast Rockabilly |
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