Kate Rice ✍ Like most people, I have seen the recent social media posts condemning those who have defaced the mural dedicated to Brendan Hughes in Twinbrook.
I have also seen the comments going back and forth, blaming agents of Sinn Fein, youth branches, or some anonymous person with a spray paint can.
I am not here to cast blame. It can’t be said definitively who has done it, though the reasons behind the accusations have their standing in history - Sinn Fein and friends are no strangers to turning their backs on Brendan Hughes, or using his memory to bolster their image. The image of Gerry Adams holding his coffin despite Brendan’s expressed wishes against this comes to mind.
Regardless of where the finger of blame can be pointed, the act itself deserves condemnation, no matter who committed it. Areas like West Belfast are filled with murals committing to the memory of Volunteers, all of which have their place. Why then does a mural of Brendan Hughes bring such internal debate? Because of the stance he took in his later years?
It is easy for us, with our perfect hindsight, to make blanket statements about this man. This doesn’t make them correct. I have heard people condemn Brendan Hughes for being against the peace process. He was not against peace, but he was against peace that was “won” on terms that had been hashed out and refused much earlier on in the conflict, because the terms were not enough. He was against peace that saw Volunteers like himself thrown to the wayside, paid unfairly in work that came after, with no offering of support for the mental toll that followed their campaign and prison conditions. A peace that saw men who were happy to give the orders and wave their hands while never getting those hands dirty - boosted into the stars of high politics and public esteem, while the working people of the North were left standing and wondering exactly what they fought for. All of this comes from Hughes’s own words and grievances, his experience with cowboy construction sites and the uncomfortable world he stepped into upon leaving prison.
I similarly make no claim that Brendan Hughes was a man carved from sainthood. He was a normal man, capable of error and capable of mistake. He was a man who was able to reflect on the actions of his younger years and ask himself and the people around him if it had been worth it. And truly, was it? The Good Friday Agreement resembled many points refused in the Sunningdale Agreement - in 1973, when the toll was still high enough, it was suggested and Republicans deemed it not enough for what cost had already been paid. If all was to come to the same political conclusion, was it truly worth it for the conflict to continue, for the toll to rise even higher on all sides? It’s a question that entities like TPQ have deliberated over many years.
Brendan Hughes could be criticised for many things, as all figures of political and public visibility can and should be. But he should not be condemned for this. One main point of socialist ideology should be to question leadership, to ask if the boat they are taking us in is big enough and strong enough to carry us all to better places. If you must deem Brendan Hughes a tout for the interviews he gave and the views he shared, you must in turn ask yourself for what reason you take issue with a working class man asking the system “why?”
If you believe that the defacing of a mural to Brendan Hughes is a just action, you must ask yourself 'why?' too. Murals exist all over West Belfast, murals that remain respected and visited and pictured even now. Should we only take the pieces of a person that are suitable to the present political narrative? Do you truly value the voice of a Volunteer? Or can you only extend that value to a voice that tragically fell quiet before it had the opportunity to ask itself questions?
I have also seen the comments going back and forth, blaming agents of Sinn Fein, youth branches, or some anonymous person with a spray paint can.
I am not here to cast blame. It can’t be said definitively who has done it, though the reasons behind the accusations have their standing in history - Sinn Fein and friends are no strangers to turning their backs on Brendan Hughes, or using his memory to bolster their image. The image of Gerry Adams holding his coffin despite Brendan’s expressed wishes against this comes to mind.
Regardless of where the finger of blame can be pointed, the act itself deserves condemnation, no matter who committed it. Areas like West Belfast are filled with murals committing to the memory of Volunteers, all of which have their place. Why then does a mural of Brendan Hughes bring such internal debate? Because of the stance he took in his later years?
It is easy for us, with our perfect hindsight, to make blanket statements about this man. This doesn’t make them correct. I have heard people condemn Brendan Hughes for being against the peace process. He was not against peace, but he was against peace that was “won” on terms that had been hashed out and refused much earlier on in the conflict, because the terms were not enough. He was against peace that saw Volunteers like himself thrown to the wayside, paid unfairly in work that came after, with no offering of support for the mental toll that followed their campaign and prison conditions. A peace that saw men who were happy to give the orders and wave their hands while never getting those hands dirty - boosted into the stars of high politics and public esteem, while the working people of the North were left standing and wondering exactly what they fought for. All of this comes from Hughes’s own words and grievances, his experience with cowboy construction sites and the uncomfortable world he stepped into upon leaving prison.
I similarly make no claim that Brendan Hughes was a man carved from sainthood. He was a normal man, capable of error and capable of mistake. He was a man who was able to reflect on the actions of his younger years and ask himself and the people around him if it had been worth it. And truly, was it? The Good Friday Agreement resembled many points refused in the Sunningdale Agreement - in 1973, when the toll was still high enough, it was suggested and Republicans deemed it not enough for what cost had already been paid. If all was to come to the same political conclusion, was it truly worth it for the conflict to continue, for the toll to rise even higher on all sides? It’s a question that entities like TPQ have deliberated over many years.
Brendan Hughes could be criticised for many things, as all figures of political and public visibility can and should be. But he should not be condemned for this. One main point of socialist ideology should be to question leadership, to ask if the boat they are taking us in is big enough and strong enough to carry us all to better places. If you must deem Brendan Hughes a tout for the interviews he gave and the views he shared, you must in turn ask yourself for what reason you take issue with a working class man asking the system “why?”
If you believe that the defacing of a mural to Brendan Hughes is a just action, you must ask yourself 'why?' too. Murals exist all over West Belfast, murals that remain respected and visited and pictured even now. Should we only take the pieces of a person that are suitable to the present political narrative? Do you truly value the voice of a Volunteer? Or can you only extend that value to a voice that tragically fell quiet before it had the opportunity to ask itself questions?
⏩Kate Rice is a peace baby.
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