In the midst of a revisionist onslaught such a path is an indispensable guide to pragmatic engagement.
Analysis at this remove, if to be valid, must first recognise that its primary function is to educate, and not form some semblance of identity comfort to anyone attempting to recreate the past in the here and now.
Nor should it be guided to a given end point, vindicating or repudiating any stances taken within republicanism at the time because to the British, ostensibly, all republican points of view are now dead. What’s done is done, which is all the more remarkable given the loud logic of history imploring us that it should have been done a different way.
The two principle points I would like to address in the article concerns the circumstances surrounding the ceasefires and the politics it conferred on the Six Counties and Provisional Sinn Féin, however strenuously denied or parried by that grouping.
I completely agree with Muiris that anybody who joined the Republican Movement did so with a basic understanding that their involvement was to secure fundamental change to the status quo and that that change had to surpass any previous arrangements put forward as settlements.
There were/are many different view points as to what a ‘United Ireland’ should look like; a Marxist classless society, comely maidens at the crossroads, broad indifference once the Irish people were free to choose. The common denominator however was, and remains, sovereignty, the securing of which was a prerequisite to allow any of the above, or other, to be pursued.
When the first ceasefire was called the joyous cavalcade which streamed down the Falls Road was a clear expression of an expectation that the ceasefire secured terms that were worthy of the struggle which preceded it. Forearmed with the historical experiences of Collins and Sunningdale, and emboldened with the sacrifices of struggle, that expectation was wholly justified.
Muiris argues that the ceasefires were necessary, that the abandonment of armed struggle was right. The true paradox however is that the terms upon which the former was called guaranteed the defeat, not the abandonment, of the latter because the ceasefire was called on British terms.
Robert Barton, one of the plenipotentiaries during the Treaty Negotiations in 1922 observed on the outcome; ‘Once we conceded we were not representatives of the Irish Republic we were on the road to disaster.’ In other words, once they allowed the British to determine their status within the negotiations they did, by default, allow them to determine the parameters of any settlement reached.
And this is precisely what the Provisional leadership allowed to happen in the negotiations which led to Good Friday. Gone was the position of the IRA representing the defence and demand for national sovereignty, replaced by Provisional Sinn Féin demands based on their electoral mandate in the Six Counties.
In other words, the British were dealing with a regional political party who had political gripes within part of the United Kingdom and that’s precisely how they were dealt with. Thus were the parameters of the Good Friday Agreement secured.
And because the issue of sovereignty was not a term for securing the ceasefire it could never be broken on that issue either. The PIRA, now reduced to the role of a militia, truly became what the British, unionists, constitutional nationalists and Irish governments always referred to them as, the armed wing of Provisional Sinn Féin.
The irony of the politics which Provisional Sinn Féin subsequently adopted for electoral gain is cogently mapped out in the article. Muiris makes the following (and widely accepted) observation:
But they didn’t, they became something much worse. To its credit constitutional nationalism recognised that the issue of sovereignty had to be addressed in any credible settlement with the British. In the New Ireland Forum Report in 1984 three proposals were put forward; a Unitary State, a Confederation/Federal State or Joint Authority.
These were dismissed by Margaret Thatcher in her infamous Out, Out, Out declaration because each option represented a derogation of British sovereignty over the Six Counties. For Thatcher sovereignty was non-negotiable. For their part Provisional Sinn Féin equally rejected the reports proposals because they fell short of a clear call for a complete British withdrawal from Ireland.
The grievous irony is that Provisional Sinn Féin adopted Thatcher’s position in subsequent negotiations because the entry fee into those negotiations was not simply the calling of a ceasefire but a ceasefire on terms that accepted that the issue of sovereignty continued to be non-negotiable.
The obvious follow on question is: where did this place the issue of sovereignty within the so called pan nationalist front, the new alternative strategy? Having rejected the findings of the New Ireland Forum how could Provisional Sinn Féin, credibly, return to constitutional nationalism on the sovereignty question?
The equally obvious answer is in the observable facts of the agreement reached. Articles 2 & 3 gone. Stand Alone All Ireland Bodies rejected. A Triple Lock guaranteeing a Unionist Veto agreed to. British Sovereign Authority explicitly recognised in the Good Friday Agreement.
Here now we see the correlation between the terms upon which the IRA ceasefire was based and the counter republican politics which it inevitably spawned. Constitutional nationalism was now off the sovereignty hook. Constitutional imperatives were replaced with fuzzy aspirations. And as our host observed in a commentary on the original article politics was now centred on the manner of British occupation and not the fact of it.
The only obligation on any party to the talks initiated by the ceasefire was to ensure that a prolonged ceasefire would have a withering effect on any leverage that resumption of armed struggle could yield (by anyone). And the net effect of that strategy, once armed struggle as a tactic was neutralised, was the retrospective criminalisation of armed struggle itself. The differences between Sunningdale and Good Friday did not necessitate the taking of one human life to resolve. Paradox and irony combined as one.
Which leads us to addressing the shameful but predictable revisionism from Declan Kearney. Muiris correctly identifies the glaring contradiction in Kearney’s call for a second pan nationalist front as a tacit admission that the first such entity failed to remotely deliver what republicans were promised it would achieve.
But the key point that he observes is that the pan nationalist front did not fail constitutional nationalism nor British strategic interests in Ireland (all of it). Not one single republican demand was secured. Howling in an echo chamber for a border poll only serves to distract internal chin stroking as to the precise nature of the current strategy to move Provisional Sinn Féin forward: Stormont working? Stormont not working? Stormont not existing? Are they flying or falling with style?
Oddly I think this current revisionist thrust is best addressed by the revisionism of Martin McGuinness; “I would gladly give my life for peace.” The paradigm shift.
Gerry Adams once told us that the Good Friday Agreement was not a republican document, the obvious observable conclusion to be drawn is: that’s because republicans didn’t negotiate it! Revisionists abhor simplicity and clarity.
I agree with the conclusion that Muiris reaches:
Probably their only remaining All Ireland conviction!
Analysis at this remove, if to be valid, must first recognise that its primary function is to educate, and not form some semblance of identity comfort to anyone attempting to recreate the past in the here and now.
Nor should it be guided to a given end point, vindicating or repudiating any stances taken within republicanism at the time because to the British, ostensibly, all republican points of view are now dead. What’s done is done, which is all the more remarkable given the loud logic of history imploring us that it should have been done a different way.
The two principle points I would like to address in the article concerns the circumstances surrounding the ceasefires and the politics it conferred on the Six Counties and Provisional Sinn Féin, however strenuously denied or parried by that grouping.
I completely agree with Muiris that anybody who joined the Republican Movement did so with a basic understanding that their involvement was to secure fundamental change to the status quo and that that change had to surpass any previous arrangements put forward as settlements.
There were/are many different view points as to what a ‘United Ireland’ should look like; a Marxist classless society, comely maidens at the crossroads, broad indifference once the Irish people were free to choose. The common denominator however was, and remains, sovereignty, the securing of which was a prerequisite to allow any of the above, or other, to be pursued.
When the first ceasefire was called the joyous cavalcade which streamed down the Falls Road was a clear expression of an expectation that the ceasefire secured terms that were worthy of the struggle which preceded it. Forearmed with the historical experiences of Collins and Sunningdale, and emboldened with the sacrifices of struggle, that expectation was wholly justified.
Muiris argues that the ceasefires were necessary, that the abandonment of armed struggle was right. The true paradox however is that the terms upon which the former was called guaranteed the defeat, not the abandonment, of the latter because the ceasefire was called on British terms.
Robert Barton, one of the plenipotentiaries during the Treaty Negotiations in 1922 observed on the outcome; ‘Once we conceded we were not representatives of the Irish Republic we were on the road to disaster.’ In other words, once they allowed the British to determine their status within the negotiations they did, by default, allow them to determine the parameters of any settlement reached.
And this is precisely what the Provisional leadership allowed to happen in the negotiations which led to Good Friday. Gone was the position of the IRA representing the defence and demand for national sovereignty, replaced by Provisional Sinn Féin demands based on their electoral mandate in the Six Counties.
In other words, the British were dealing with a regional political party who had political gripes within part of the United Kingdom and that’s precisely how they were dealt with. Thus were the parameters of the Good Friday Agreement secured.
And because the issue of sovereignty was not a term for securing the ceasefire it could never be broken on that issue either. The PIRA, now reduced to the role of a militia, truly became what the British, unionists, constitutional nationalists and Irish governments always referred to them as, the armed wing of Provisional Sinn Féin.
The irony of the politics which Provisional Sinn Féin subsequently adopted for electoral gain is cogently mapped out in the article. Muiris makes the following (and widely accepted) observation:
The Provisionals did not defeat constitutional nationalism by demonstrating that it was wrong. They replaced constitutional nationalism and then, gradually, became it.
But they didn’t, they became something much worse. To its credit constitutional nationalism recognised that the issue of sovereignty had to be addressed in any credible settlement with the British. In the New Ireland Forum Report in 1984 three proposals were put forward; a Unitary State, a Confederation/Federal State or Joint Authority.
These were dismissed by Margaret Thatcher in her infamous Out, Out, Out declaration because each option represented a derogation of British sovereignty over the Six Counties. For Thatcher sovereignty was non-negotiable. For their part Provisional Sinn Féin equally rejected the reports proposals because they fell short of a clear call for a complete British withdrawal from Ireland.
The grievous irony is that Provisional Sinn Féin adopted Thatcher’s position in subsequent negotiations because the entry fee into those negotiations was not simply the calling of a ceasefire but a ceasefire on terms that accepted that the issue of sovereignty continued to be non-negotiable.
The obvious follow on question is: where did this place the issue of sovereignty within the so called pan nationalist front, the new alternative strategy? Having rejected the findings of the New Ireland Forum how could Provisional Sinn Féin, credibly, return to constitutional nationalism on the sovereignty question?
The equally obvious answer is in the observable facts of the agreement reached. Articles 2 & 3 gone. Stand Alone All Ireland Bodies rejected. A Triple Lock guaranteeing a Unionist Veto agreed to. British Sovereign Authority explicitly recognised in the Good Friday Agreement.
Here now we see the correlation between the terms upon which the IRA ceasefire was based and the counter republican politics which it inevitably spawned. Constitutional nationalism was now off the sovereignty hook. Constitutional imperatives were replaced with fuzzy aspirations. And as our host observed in a commentary on the original article politics was now centred on the manner of British occupation and not the fact of it.
The only obligation on any party to the talks initiated by the ceasefire was to ensure that a prolonged ceasefire would have a withering effect on any leverage that resumption of armed struggle could yield (by anyone). And the net effect of that strategy, once armed struggle as a tactic was neutralised, was the retrospective criminalisation of armed struggle itself. The differences between Sunningdale and Good Friday did not necessitate the taking of one human life to resolve. Paradox and irony combined as one.
Which leads us to addressing the shameful but predictable revisionism from Declan Kearney. Muiris correctly identifies the glaring contradiction in Kearney’s call for a second pan nationalist front as a tacit admission that the first such entity failed to remotely deliver what republicans were promised it would achieve.
But the key point that he observes is that the pan nationalist front did not fail constitutional nationalism nor British strategic interests in Ireland (all of it). Not one single republican demand was secured. Howling in an echo chamber for a border poll only serves to distract internal chin stroking as to the precise nature of the current strategy to move Provisional Sinn Féin forward: Stormont working? Stormont not working? Stormont not existing? Are they flying or falling with style?
Oddly I think this current revisionist thrust is best addressed by the revisionism of Martin McGuinness; “I would gladly give my life for peace.” The paradigm shift.
Gerry Adams once told us that the Good Friday Agreement was not a republican document, the obvious observable conclusion to be drawn is: that’s because republicans didn’t negotiate it! Revisionists abhor simplicity and clarity.
I agree with the conclusion that Muiris reaches:
The less speculative reality may simply be that, after nearly three decades with their snouts in the Stormont trough, the patronage, salaries, status and political infrastructure that come with government have become indispensable to the party itself!
⏩ The Fenian Way was a full time activist during the IRA's war against the British.
Muiris Ó Súilleabháin comments
ReplyDeleteIt is pleasing that my article has generated such an in-depth response from someone who was themselves a full-time activist during the IRA campaign and who approaches these questions from the experience of having lived through the strategic decisions under discussion.
I suspect we have arrived at much the same destination, where we differ is in identifying the point of departure. I am quite clear in my book that I hope is published someday, that fundamental constitutional change was never on the agenda during any of the multiple negotiations of the Good Friday Agreement era.
By the time Sinn Féin entered the talks, the parameters had already been made clear by the British and Irish governments and the United States. A united Ireland of any description was not on offer.
Indeed, on the eve of Sinn Féin entering the all party negotiations, both Sinn Féin and the IRA issued statements alluding to the prospect of fundamental constitutional change. Those statements were primarily for internal consumption. They were necessary to bring the Army and its support base across another red line. They were not an accurate reflection of what anyone at leadership level believed was on offer at the negotiating table. They were necessary to manage our defeat.
So, I don't disagree with The Fenian Way that sovereignty was effectively excluded from the negotiations. Where I differ is in locating that as the moment at which the strategy necessarily failed.
Ending an armed campaign that could no longer achieve its objective was, in my view, both necessary and correct.
The more difficult question is what followed. My departure point lies in the progressive presentation of strategic defeats as advancement to the Republic, each concession being described as another staging post towards the same Republic, even as the strategic options available to republicanism became progressively narrower.
We have ended up in much the same place analytically. The disagreement is not really about what happened, but about when the road towards the present position became unavoidable.
Andy Burnham’s statement in Belfast this week that a border poll is off the table is merely confirmation of what was signed up to in 1998, and of just how thoroughly contained the once-republican movement has since become.
Sounds to me like more intellectual waffle, avoidance and rationalisation.
ReplyDeleteWhereas I take the gaffers point about where the bus was ever in reality going to ... (was the Republic declared in 1916 by the Provisional Government ever realistic and achievable?) He, TFW, Muiris, agus mise along with many all boarded. The vehicle never got there, and alas will never reach that destination now.
Was there an unencumbered route to that destination? Very unlikely, and yet we boarded. We boarded and trusted the leadership to get us there.
Could they have gotten us there? Improbable even from the off. Could they have gotten us somewhat closer to the destination? Possibly. Alas, that hasn't unfolded. The leadership brought the bus into a one way system. Led the movement up the garden path and onto a one way street. Then found they couldn't turn. Neither had they the humility nor the courage to attempt to reverse out. And they did all this without much serious objection from a majority of the passengers... at least not in real time.
The deal concluded abandoned sovereignty, copper fastened partition, and left the hands of our old colonial masters firmly on the steering yet again.
Republicans lost, and lost badly.
And Sinn Féin applies lipstick to the pig.
That would make a good stand alone piece
DeleteFeel free to.
DeleteHenry in 2013 Alex Mc Crory wrote a piece called What Now For the Prisoners
ReplyDeleteDuring the exchange between Alex and Anthony, Anthony asked this question----
Do you think if the leadership were to call on them all to assemble at Dunville Park Sunday 3 o'clock sharp for a space ship to take them to a united Ireland they wouldn't turn up?
Kinda the same ball park as your 'bus in a cul- de- sac' analogy
Thanks for that Frankie.
DeleteYeah, the passengers left their brains on the pavement before boarding.
Alec had a comment too which to my mind summed things up, something about Sinn Féin accepting the agreement from almost the get-go, where Republicans thought differently. That distinction is something I hope to address in a forthcoming article I'm working on - well maybe not working on just yet, but certainly chewing over.