CHAPTER SEVEN

Redefining the Role of the British Military in Ireland: Debates Over Peace, 1990–95

The 1990s were dominated in Northern Ireland by the ‘peace process’. This was an attempt by both the British and Irish Governments to find some form of compromise solution to the Troubles. The first half of the decade was marked by attempts to persuade the PIRA to lay down its arms, to debate the decommissioning of weapons and to attempt to impose a durable cease-fire on Ireland. The British Army were, during this period, in the position of having to underwrite these ambitions.

British and Irish attempts to initiate progress in the Province were facilitated by movement on the nationalist side. By 1990 there was a shift towards a different pattern of politics in the Province and hopeful signs that the violent stalemate would be undone. Yet, progress on one side was not in itself enough to end the conflict. The British Government had to be prepared to take the nationalist gambits seriously and, in particular, needed to be convinced that the armed wing of the nationalist movement would renounce violence. Any lasting political settlement therefore hinged both on the ability of the moderates to persuade the PIRA to lay down its arms and a British willingness to underwrite new political structures, perhaps even against the will of the Unionists. No one part of this complex package was easy, not least the question of whether the British could persuade the PIRA to give up its paramilitary campaign.

‘Talks about talks ’

In 1990, under the influence of Peter Brooke, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, the British Government began to take seriously the new correlation of forces on the nationalist side and signalled that it was willing to discuss future options. Brooke sought, in his period as minister, to build upon the Anglo-Irish Agreement to achieve greater devolution in its affairs from the mainland.¹ From late 1989 Brooke tried to find some form of consensus that might allow for a greater devolution of power and permit most of the major players involved in the Province to form a dialogue that would eventually bring about new political structures. This endeavour became known as ‘talks about talks’.² Out of it came the notion of a three-stranded discussion along the lines which had been consistently advocated by Hume in the 1980s – that talks should take place between the Northern political parties (the internal dimension), between Dublin and Belfast, and between Dublin and London. The Unionists were not keen about any aspect of these talks, fearing that they might lead to a greater devolution of power from Westminster, and resented greatly the inclusion of the Dublin Government. Sinn Fein was excluded altogether.

Over the course of the next year, the Northern Ireland Office tried to start negotiations between all the parties. Even starting the talks was the subject of much contention. The Dublin Government was unhappy because it believed that the three strands should begin in unison and that its input should not be contingent, as the Unionists insisted, on progress in strand one.³ Progress towards the talks was therefore complicated as Brooke strove to balance the competing views and concerns of all those involved. Argument raged around issues such as where the talks should be held and even who should chair the sessions. The British Government proposed that Lord Carrington should act as chair, but this was blocked by the Unionists because of their belief that Carrington was closely associated with the Foreign Office, a body which they alleged had been instrumental in the signing of the Anglo-Irish Agreement.⁴ This particular issue was eventually resolved with the appointment of an Australian, Sir Ninian Stephens, to chair the discussions. Talks did eventually get under way and continued with breaks until the spring of 1992, but the basic problem was that there was no agreement as to what the talks should aim for. Analysts are divided in their assessments of these talks: some point to the futility of the discussions whereas others believed that they were the necessary prerequisite for future dialogue.⁵ Yet the continuing violence perpetrated by the PIRA pointed to the problems of leaving one of the key players out of any negotiation over the future.

By 1990 the British Government had more or less conceded, in private, the centrality of Sinn Fein to any dialogue about the future. Despite the fact that Sinn Fein was publicly excluded from the talks, throughout the first two years of the decade, a secret channel of communication between the British Government and Sinn Fein was established.⁶ This did not mark a new departure in British behaviour. There was by this stage a long track record of secret meetings between Government officials and Irish paramilitaries. But these meetings were rather different. The contacts came about in a period not only when Sinn Fein was noticeably altering its political strategy, but when the British Government believed that it might be possible to coerce or lure Sinn Fein through political concessions into exerting pressure upon the PIRA to give up the armed struggle.⁷ These contacts began in October 1990, when a top British civil servant held a meeting with Martin McGuinness.⁸ In addition to the secret talks, the British Government also authorized the release to Sinn Fein of an advance copy of a speech which Brooke was going to make in London on 9 November.⁹ The speech, which was entitled ‘the British presence’, was a major statement of intent towards the Province. Throughout the speech, Brooke portrayed the British attitude in Ireland as one of neutrality. In line with this theme, he acknowledged the legitimacy of the views of both the Unionists and nationalists. Of the former, Brooke said it was accepted that the Province could not and would not be ceded from the United Kingdom without the consent of the majority, but he also said that it was understood that the nationalist minority had concerns and aims which, if pursued through democratic non-violent means, were equally legitimate. This statement of British neutrality was encapsulated in the idea that the British had no ‘selfish strategic or economic interest in the Province’.¹⁰ Brooke acknowledged that the British presence had different components – the Army, the Northern Ireland Office, the financing of the Province by the British Exchequer, and not least the Unionist population which regarded itself as British. On the military presence, the Secretary of State argued that the United Kingdom did not want to sustain high troop levels in the Province but that soldiers were there as long as they were needed to protect the police from paramilitary attacks.¹¹ However, once the threat to the police had been removed, the British Army could be, and would be, withdrawn.

In March 1991, one type of watershed was reached in the politics of Anglo-Irish relations when the Birmingham Six were finally released from prison. The Court of Appeal held that their convictions sixteen years before were actually unsafe. Compensation was promised and it was hoped that this might ameliorate the talks over the future of the Province.¹²

In April 1991, in another attempt to reinforce contacts with Sinn Fein, the British Government informed the paramilitaries that the Loyalists, in preparation for the talks, were going to declare a moratorium on the shooting of Catholics.¹³ The ceasefire was duly announced. It lasted almost without exception until July.¹⁴ Throughout this period, Sinn Fein were kept fully informed of the progress of the talks. The British Government continued to forward copies of major speeches to Sinn Fein, including one by Sir Patrick Mayhew, Brooke's successor, made in Coleraine in December 1992. This speech, which echoed the themes of Brooke's initiatives, held out the prospect of holding talks with Sinn Fein within the three-tiered strategy if, but again only if, violence ceased.¹⁵ Mayhew argued that the role of the British Government was to facilitate a real resolution of the division of society.¹⁶ Other initiatives designed to appease the nationalists were subsequendy announced, including one rescinding the ban on having street names in Irish.¹⁷

These tactics were designed to tempt Sinn Fein with the chance of inclusion at any future talks and to show British neutrality on the issue of Ireland. But the price was the renunciation of political violence. This took account of changes which had recently occurred in the philosophy of Sinn Fein. It had for the latter part of the 1980s dedicated itself to become a legitimate political force in Irish politics. It had made repeated attempts to contest elections and had become, through its association with John Hume and the SDLP, more of a political force in the Province. Part of the Sinn Fein agenda had also involved establishing links with members of the Catholic church.¹⁸ All of this formed part of the endeavour to establish a broadly based nationalist movement which would gain support from Dublin and create an irresistible pressure upon the British Government for political-military change in the Province. Gerry Adams had long accepted that Sinn Fein individually could not make either substantial inroads in electoral politics or greatly influence either the political process in the south or on the British mainland.¹⁹ He therefore sought to cultivate a movement of nationalist interests. The stumbling block to this ambition, however, was that many nationalists remained loathe to work with Sinn Fein until it had renounced violence. This also formed the main part of the British objection to opening up any public dialogue with Sinn Fein.

At this stage there were few visible signs that the PIRA would renounce violence. Indeed, throughout this period the paramilitaries once again targeted the establishment on the British mainland. In 1990, the Conservative MP, Ian Gow, a vociferous supporter of the Unionists and close friend of Mrs Thatcher, was blown up by a car bomb in front of his house.²⁰ Attempts to kill notable British figures continued when on 18 September, the former Governor of Gibraltar, Sir Peter Terry, was shot.²¹ At this time police raids on PIRA ‘safe houses’ in both London and Belfast revealed a list of names of 235 prominent public figures whom the paramilitaries intended to kill.²² To many in the nationalist movement, the use of violence was an essential means of achieving a British declaration of intent to withdraw. Indeed, the armed wing was determined to keep the pressure up. In the autumn the PIRA resorted to the use of so-called hostage drivers to deliver bombs. This involved tying alleged informers into lorries loaded with bombs and forcing them to drive straight into British Army posts.²³ Despite the violence, the security forces in the Province believed that their losses were at least acceptable. In 1990, the British Army lost seven soldiers, while the UDR lost eight. The inability of the PIRA to dent the security services in the Province meant that the paramilitaries increasingly turned attention to the mainland bombing campaign. One of its most spectacular hits was in 1991, when the PIRA launched a mortar attack on Downing Street itself. It came close to killing the British Gulf War Cabinet.²⁴ The Provisionals continued their mainland campaign, detonating a huge bomb in the middle of the city of London in April 1992. As one author has argued, this violence was ‘an essential means of achieving a British declaration of intent to withdraw which had formed the central spine of Republican discourse since the formation of the Provisionals’.²⁵

The violence continued into the following year with numerous atrocities, one of the worst being the Teeban bomb which in January 1992 killed eight Protestant workmen. On 29 August 1991 the 3,000th person to die violently since the beginning of the troubles in 1969 was killed.²⁶ The violence overshadowed the debate which had been going on during the preceding year, within both Sinn Fein and the PIRA, over the future use of violence to further aims.

Throughout 1991 the paramilitaries maintained publicly that there could not be renunciation of violence without a British military withdrawal. Yet, this position was increasingly untenable as the movement was put under pressure to relinquish violence. In 1992, for example, Gerry Adams claimed that the IRA could not continue with its ‘ballot box and armalite’ strategy.²⁷ In February 1992, as a result of internal debate over future strategies, Sinn Fein published a peace initiative, entitled ‘Towards a lasting peace in Ireland’, a document which had, according to some sources, the tacit approval of the PIRA.²⁸ The sentiments behind it represented a clear revision on the part of the movement away from some of the ‘historic’ truths which had sustained the organization. For example, the document placed an emphasis on the southern Irish Government as an agent for change in the North. No longer was the Dail the illegal representative of the British Government in the south. Even more strikingly, the document indicated a willingness on the part of the PIRA to consider non-violent options, if this would remove the British presence. Sinn Fein also proclaimed a revision of its long-held views of the British troop presence. Rather than demand an immediate withdrawal, it was accepted that Westminster might join the ranks of the ‘persuaders’ in seeking to obtain Unionist consent to a united Ireland. All this rather left aside the question of the armed struggle, but critics of violence from within Sinn Fein were vocal in pointing to the ‘isolating’ effect that violent actions had had on the movement and the counter-productive effects of actions such as the Enniskillen bombing.²⁹

As the debate continued, Adams seized the political initiative through a dialogue with the SDLP. His bid to engage in constitutional nationalism took the form once again of talks with John Hume. These confidential discussions began in April 1993. In October, the discussions were made public when the Hume/ Adams document was delivered to the Irish Government.³⁰ It held out the hope that the Provisionals might end their campaign of violence in return for some form of British declaration of support for unification. It is now clear that the southern Irish Government, through its special adviser on the Province, Martin Mansergh, had been directly involved in the preparation of the Hume/Adams principles.³¹

The contacts between Hume and Adams gained much attention. Specifically, it gave Gerry Adams a high profile as the man who could perhaps ‘deliver’ a peace with the Provisionals. Nevertheless, doubts were cast over his role less than two weeks after the delivery of the Hume/Adams talks. A bomb planted by the PIRA in a fish shop on the Shankill Road in the heart of a Protestant community exploded, killing ten people including one of the bombers. In retaliation, Loyalist gunmen launched a campaign of random assassinations on Catholics. Adams expressed regret for the Shankill bombing, but just a few days later took his place at the funeral of the bomber, even acting as a pall bearer.³² This made his regrets over the killings appear, at best, insincere. However, those more attuned to the workings of Sinn Fein and its relationship with the PIRA argued that Adams had little choice but to appear at the funeral to keep faith with the PIRA men he was trying to persuade into peace.

Some analysts have claimed throughout that the British Government was operating a clear and consistent strategy of using political overtures to Sinn Fein to isolate the PIRA.³³ While the British obviously had a sustained interest in restraining the paramilitaries, it was not obvious at this stage that there was a coherent plan or even an endpoint in mind for the process of ‘splitting the Nationalists’. Not least, the Government of John Major was at certain points circumscribed in its Irish policy because of its weak domestic position, which necessitated a cultivation of the Unionist vote in the House of Commons.

The Conservative Party had long been dependent in periods of political emergency on the ‘good will’ of its Unionist colleagues within the House of Commons. In 1992–93 this was a critical factor in British politics. The April 1992 general election did not produce the Labour Government that had been widely predicted. John Major was returned but with a majority of only twenty-one. The narrow majority was crucial to the Government as Major struggled to push forward a controversial strategy over Europe. In 1993, John Major faced a severe test to his leadership over his European policies in the vote on the Maastricht Treaty. Both the Unionists and sympathetic colleagues on the backbenches threatened to undo Major's European strategy if he pushed too hard on the issue of contacts with Sinn Fein. As it was, on 22 July 1993 it was the Unionist vote that saved both John Major and the Maastricht Treaty. For those watching, it raised the question of what concessions the Unionists had managed to exact from the Prime Minister.

The British position vis-à-vis the Province was further complicated when it became public that despite its repeated protestations to the contrary, the British Government had been conducting a covert dialogue with Sinn Fein.³⁴ The Government was not helped in this instance in that the British version of events, which maintained that it had been asked by the PIRA in early 1993 for assistance in ending the conflict, was challenged by Sinn Fein.³⁵ The latter's version was that it had responded to British suggestions that an eventual withdrawal might be negotiated.³⁶ The matter proved just how problematic the issue of negotiating with paramilitaries is for democratic regimes.

Generally, when those in power find they cannot destroy their opponents militarily, alternate schemes have to be devised. In many cases this can require dialogue with the enemy. In liberal societies the electorate then has to be persuaded that the Government is right to pursue such a dialogue. As Dillon argues of secret negotiations with paramilitaries: ‘the critical dilemma facing governments is whether to begin the process in secret before making a public admission that terrorists are about to be accorded public recognition’.³⁷ This was the dilemma of the British Government – if and when to announce the contacts with Sinn Fein and the PIRA as preparation for peace. John Major survived the revelations with some boldness. Nevertheless, the British Government came under pressure from a variety of sources to recover the initiative. In particular, Dublin pressurized Prime Minister Major to keep the momentum going in the quest for peace. According to Martin Dillon, by mid-May 1993, John Major had already decided that he would talk to the spokesmen of Sinn Fein. By this stage anyway, the British Government and Sinn Fein had exchanged sixteen letters and four oral messages.³⁸ But after the atrocities committed by the PIRA on the British mainland, most notably the bombing in Warrington in the spring of 1993 which killed two young children, Major was persuaded by his political colleagues that the risks were, at that moment, too high. Indeed, Major himself said that talking to Gerry Adams would turn his stomach.³⁹ In October, Albert Reynolds and John Major rejected the Hume/Adams proposals.⁴⁰ Yet, this was followed by a burst of Anglo-Irish activity between Dick Spring, the Irish Foreign Minister, and Patrick Mayhew in a bid to put together a joint initiative. In November, the British response to the Hume/Adams proposals came in the form of an Anglo-Irish announcement known as the Downing Street Declaration.

The peace process

Despite the Anglo-Irish rejection of the Hume/Adams suggestions, many of the terms of the Downing Street Declaration had actually been foreshadowed in those talks. Not least of these was the notion that a united Ireland could be achieved through negotiation and constitutional methods. It also held out the promise once again to Sinn Fein of the possibility of inclusion in the peace process on the basis of a permanent end to the use of violence. The British Government undertook to engage in direct talks with Sinn Fein as to how practically the violence could end.⁴¹

Assessments of the actual meanings of the Downing Street Declaration varied quite dramatically. Some analysts claim that it was an attempt by the British Government to claw back influence after the Anglo-Irish accord of 1985.⁴² Conversely, others claimed it was tilted towards one aim and one aim only – a united Ireland. One commentator noted, for example, that there were twenty-seven references to Irish unity in the document but only two to the Northern Ireland within the United Kingdom.⁴³ Another author argued that British policy was moving inexorably towards disengagement, driven by PIRA violence.⁴⁴ One British official, Sir David Goodall, stated ‘that the tone of the declaration moves the British Government a shade further towards accepting a united Ireland as an attainable rather than simply a conceivable goal’.⁴⁵

The Declaration was indeed a step towards redefining the British role in Ireland as the arbiter of Irish problems, not least the statement by which Great Britain agreed

that it is for the people of the island of Ireland alone, by agreement between the two parts respectively, to exercise their right of self-determination on the basis of consent… to bring about a united Ireland… if that is their wish.⁴⁶

Alongside this concession, came the desire for greater devolution in the Province – but the Unionists were not discarded by John Major. Shortly after the announcement of the Downing Street Declaration, which conceded the possibility of a united Ireland at some point, the British Government also took a step explicitly designed to conciliate the Unionists. This was the setting up of a Northern Ireland Affairs Select Committee (NIASC),⁴⁷ long-demanded by Unionists and seen as an integrationist device. Like other select committees it was designed to oversee the operation of government departments, in this case the Northern Irish Office.⁴⁸ When the House of Commons debated the creation of the committee, the Labour Party opposed it on the grounds that it was merely a ‘payback’ to the Unionists for their support over European issues, not least their support for John Major over the Maastricht Treaty. In particular, Labour politicians questioned the British Government's neutrality over the Province when it had conceded to the Unionists what was, in effect, another move towards the integration of the Province into the life and politics of the mainland.⁴⁹ Yet again, this was an instance of a British Prime Minister attempting a balancing act in order to keep the Unionists on side in the House of Commons. The British Government was moving slowly, in a piecemeal fashion, towards an Irish solution to ‘the troubles’, yet there was a long way to go, as the Sinn Fein response to the Downing Street Declaration proved.

The Downing Street Declaration itself appeared to cause some confusion and hesitancy on the part of Sinn Fein. It has been alleged that the Declaration split the PIRA. This was not true.⁵⁰ Behind the scenes the paramilitaries had voted not to reject it.⁵¹ Sinn Fein did not want to reject it in an outright fashion. At first, it hedged on its response and called for clarification of the terms of the Declaration. This was an attempt to buy time rather than reject the agreement outright. The PIRA, however, sent the British Government a series of contradictory signals. It continued attacks on the mainland to maintain the pressure. Most noticeably it mounted a number of assaults on Heathrow airport in March 1994.⁵² At the same time the Provisionals also operated a series of voluntary three-day cease-fires. On 13 May 1994, Sinn Fein sought clarification on some of the issues at stake in the Declaration. All of these moves were designed to wrong-foot Government officiais and ensure that any initiative lay with the nationalists. The British Government responded to these activities through a reiteration of the terms offered in the Declaration.

Sinn Fein finally rejected the Declaration after a full-scale party conference at Letterkenny in July 1994.⁵³ Yet all was not lost. Momentum had been building for the Sinn Fein leadership to underwrite a cease-fire. Throughout the process the Party had maintained a dialogue with Dublin and the Irish Taoiseach, Albert Reynolds, while another line of pressure came from the American White House. Gerry Adams had, after years of being refused entry, finally succeeded in gaining a visa to the United States of America.⁵⁴ Despite British opposition, Adams visited the United States three times. After March 1995, Adam used his visits to activate American fund-raising activities. Some sections of American society, most notably the Irish diaspora, had long supported the financing of Sinn Fein and throughout his later trips, most notably in the autumn of 1995, Adams raised enormous amounts of money.⁵⁵ A year earlier, Adams had a more political agenda, which was to convince the White House of his sincerity as a peace-maker. In return, he was pressurized to accede to the cease-fire. US influence had an affect. On 31 August 1994 the PIRA did indeed announce a cease-fire.⁵⁶ It did not promise that this was a permanent cease-fire but rather stated that this was a ‘complete cessation of violence’, and according to the PIRA announcement, ‘All of our units have been instructed accordingly.’⁵⁷ Gerry Adams saluted the bravery of the volunteers. In October, Loyalist paramilitaries also declared a cease-fire. This was a momentous occasion – at least for a time, there was peace in Ireland after twenty-five years of violence.

The cease-fire was the result of a number of profound changes within the Province. One was, of course, the substantial revision in the attitude of Sinn Fein. It no longer argued in the rather simplistic fashion that had characterized much of its former rhetoric that Britain could simply ‘leave’ or be pushed out of Ireland. The dialogue with Hume had brought home that Unionist objectives to a united Ireland were not just sustained by a British presence, but rooted in deep cultural and historical beliefs that could not be wished away, even if the British Army left. Much of the evolution of nationalist thinking demonstrated that it was understood that there was little chance of ever achieving a united Ireland without a broad political consensus in the North and a sustained input from the south. In other words, Sinn Fein accepted that it would have to work within a nationalist coalition formed from both parts of Ireland to achieve its ultimate aim.

No less importantly, the British position too had shifted, although not as far as its paramilitary opponents. Since the mid-1970s, the British Government had been trying to create the conditions in which ‘the troubles’ could be both contained and resolved within a predominantly Irish context. What the peace process of the 1990s demonstrated was that the British Government had come to recognize the centrality of the Dublin Government to this aim, and the fact that no initiative could successfully go ahead without a southern dimension. Indeed, it might be argued that it was this southern dimension that had pushed Britain as far as it had with respect to the Downing Street Declaration.⁵⁸ In particular Dublin's willingness to accept the ‘consent’ principle which effectively negated Articles 2 and 3 of the Irish constitution which asserted jurisdiction over the whole island of Ireland opened up the possibility of real Anglo-Irish cooperation. John Major's Irish policy was not without opponents within his own Cabinet. It has now become apparent that there was deep unhappiness at the inclusion of Sinn Fein in any peace process and continued unease at developments in the Province.⁵⁹ The Unionists were also opposed to Major's initiatives and some of the more hard-liners alleged that John Major had done a secret deal with the PIRA. On 6 September 1994, Ian Paisley was thrown out of 10 Downing Street for refusing to take Major's word that this was not the case.⁶⁰ This signalled that despite Conservative dependence on Unionist votes, there were limits to British patience with Unionist intransigence towards the Peace Process.

Yet perhaps the most important shift was that the British Government had finally recognized that in military terms the PIRA could not be completely defeated and that any Northern Irish settlement was in fact dependent on Sinn Fein. In this context, it is worth noting that the very use of the term cease-fire in the Province conferred some form of military legitimacy on the PIRA. Cease-fires normally end ‘proper wars’ not conflicts with terrorists. A cease-fire was not really in keeping with British policy since 1975, when PIRA had been depicted in a welter of legislation as common criminals. The term ‘cease-fire’, used throughout 1994–95, conferred some dignity on the paramilitary opponents of the state.

The cease-fire was not permanent and the PIRA had not gone away, but was rather waiting and still armed for the moment, if it so chose to renew the conflict. After the PIRA cease-fire, this knowledge brought the British administration to a new phase of the military-political battle in the Province. This was an attempt, quite literally, to disarm the enemy through a process of decommissioning.

Normalization to decommissioning

After the cease-fires of August and October 1994 there was a gradual scaling down of activities by the British security forces. Most noticeably, British Army patrols were withdrawn from the streets of Belfast and Londonderry. This was in many ways an extension of the normalization process for the Province which Westminster had long sought. Yet in part, some of these changes in the military were necessitated by the end of the Cold War. It is often tempting to think of the Army in Northern Ireland as separate from the mainstream of the British forces, but the Province did not escape the cuts made in the wake of the so-called ‘peace dividend’ after the collapse of the Warsaw Treaty Organization. In July 1991, for example, it was announced by Tom King, who was at this point Minister of Defence, that the British Armed Forces would be cut by 40,000 soldiers within four years. In relation to Ireland, he announced that the UDR would merge with the Irish Rangers to form the Royal Irish Regiment.⁶¹ The newly formed regiment would, he envisaged, be made up of eight battalions – one which would be used globally and seven for use in the Province.⁶² There was a pragmatic cost-cutting rationale at work here, but these changes in Ireland were also made in response to the complaints of both Dublin and the SDLP that the UDR remained inherently biased and sectarian in outlook and composition. One hundred members of the UDR had been charged with a series of serious offences and seventeen members were serving sentences for murder.⁶³ The Royal Irish Rangers was approximately 30 per cent Catholic in terms of its composition. The Regiment had a long tradition of recruiting from the south and it was hoped, after the amalgamation, that more Catholics would be encouraged to join.⁶⁴ Unionists, however, alleged that the regiment was being used by London to ameliorate nationalist fears of the security forces as the British Government prepared for a peace process. Yet nationalist suspicions of the security forces remained strong and their actions remained controversial.

The success of the British Army in countering or at least containing terrorism in the Province was apparent by the early 1990s. One semi-official source phrased it in the following way:

The security forces have been able to cut the number of deaths in Northern Ireland from over 500 in 1972, to 94 in 1991 and 84 in 1992. The number of deaths due to terrorism in Northern Ireland every year since 1977 has on average been less than the toll of an average week on the United Kingdoms roads.⁶⁵

It has been argued that these types of statistic made it obvious to the PIRA that, at the very least, a military stalemate existed in the Province and that the British presence would endure in the island.British military success therefore had, for more than two decades, helped to pressurize the PIRA to the negotiating table in 1994. It should be stressed however that this was not what the British military itself desired. Some officers would rather not have seen the Government negotiating with terrorists the terms of a ceasefire. In itself, they argued, this represented a failure for military policy in the Province.⁶⁶

Here there is the problem of what constituted success for a military force operating in the Province. To be withdrawn from the streets to soothe nationalist fears was galling when it was obvious that the PIRA had not disarmed. Yet the very presence of a British military force, withdrawn from the streets or not, inspired continued allegations that a ‘shoot to kill’ policy operated. In this respect the actions of the Army sometimes jeopardize the quest for peace. Critics of the Army argued that in the 1990s the role of the British military was not peacekeeping but was in essence to pinpoint and eradicate the PIRA. It was not, critics argued, about policing nor about prevention, but just about raising the costs of operations for the Provisionals. For example, in February 1992, four PIRA men were shot dead by the SAS in Coalisland during an attack on a police station. This raised questions over the behaviour of the SAS once again.⁶⁷ This unit was again under intense scrutiny especially with the publication of a new book in 1993. Mark Urban, himself a former soldier turned journalist wrote a book, Big Boy's Rules: The Secret War Against the IRA.⁶⁸ In this work he alleged that the British Army had been authorized at times to ‘trap’ and ‘kill’ PIRA men, albeit within certain guidelines. He claimed that the SAS had killed thirty-seven PIRA gunmen since 1976. Similar allegations were also made by Martin Dillon in his works on the PIRA.⁶⁹ While none of these accusations were completely new, alongside the complex negotiations going on in the Province for peace, it raised questions once again about the British role in Ireland in 1994 and whether a British military force could ever really be neutral in ‘the troubles’.

Moreover, nationalists remained unhappy not only with SAS activities but also with the presence of the British Parachute Regiment in the Province. Since Bloody Sunday, this regiment had not been popular with the nationalist community, but after one particular incident when the Paras were accused of ‘harassing’ locals in Coalisland, there were calls for their withdrawal which reached across party lines. The Unionist MP, Ken Maginnis, the Party's security spokesman, expressed his doubts about the behaviour of the regiment and fuelled calls for its withdrawal. The controversy over this particular regiment gained increased resonance in the case of Private Lee Clegg. In 1993 he was sentenced to life imprisonment for the alleged murder of Karen Reilly. Clegg had allegedly shot her dead when she was a passenger in a car which had driven through an Army checkpoint in 1990. The case aroused enormous controversy both on the mainland and in the Province, as supporters campaigned for his early release arguing that he had acted within the rules of engagement allowed to soldiers in Northern Ireland. The incident provoked calls for different laws to deal with such situations. In July 1995 Clegg was released on licence at a sensitive time both in the Province (because of the marching season) and in the peace process. The release led to rioting in Belfast. It underlined the sensitivity of the nationalists in the Province to the behaviour of the British Army. This type of issue – how soldiers behave – mattered a great deal in the society and culture of Northern Ireland, not least because after a quarter of a century of violence it was one of the most policed societies in the Western world and the actions of all the security forces affected daily conduct and therefore came under intense local scrutiny.

In 1994, after the cease-fire, the British Government turned its attention to the idea of a permanent decommissioning of arms as a way of disarming the paramilitaries. In October, the British Government set out the conditions that would entitle paramilitary-backed parties to enter into political negotiations over the future of the Province. These conditions were that the PIRA would give clear evidence that it was willing to disarm according to so-called agreed modalities and that to prove good faith it would decommission some of its arsenal. Until it did so, it was still barred from joining in the three-stranded talks. These demands by the British Government resulted in an impasse, not least because Sinn Fein argued that decommissioning represented a betrayal of Article 10 of the Downing Street Declaration which had not set it as a prerequisite to talks. The British administration continued to insist on decommissioning and, to break the deadlock, an international committee was set up to talk to all the potential parties involved to try to identify a way in which verifiable decommissioning could take place. This was the first track of the so-called twin-track path to peace; the second part was the opening of preliminary talks with the parties in Northern Ireland. In January 1996, the first joint meeting with Sinn Fein was held. Shortly after that, the decommissioning committee led by US Senator George Mitchell, reported his findings. The appointment of Mitchell was in itself an indication of how far the British Government had moved towards a partial acceptance that Westminster alone could not solve the problems of the Province. The Mitchell Commission recommended that the British Government should abandon its demand that paramilitaries in Northern Ireland give up their weapons before all-party talks. Rather, Mitchell and his team suggested that the party talks should take place along any process of decommissioning. This was a compromise proposal. Mitchell also suggested that six principles be put in place before all-party talks could begin. These were that the parties agree to (1) acceptance of the democratic and exclusively peaceful means of resolving political issues, (2) the total disarma- ment of paramilitary organizations, (3) independent verification of disarmament, (4) the renunciation of violence and opposition to any other group using force, (5) agreement to abide by the terms of any agreement, and (6) an end to punishment beatings and killings.⁷⁰

The recommendations of the Mitchell Report placed Sinn Fein in a difficult position. Expectations were high after the initial period of the cease-fire that some form of accommodation could be found, but decommissioning was not popular with the PIRA, nor were the terms of the Mitchell Report. Martin McGuinness had argued that if ‘weapons’ were going to be scrutinized, then the military arsenal of the security forces, including the British Army in the Province, should form part of that process.⁷¹ Indeed, Sinn Fein argued that the logical conclusion for a peace settlement was the demilitarization of the entire Province. The British Government obviously did not accept this. John Major had given the Mitchell Commission the go ahead strictly on the conditions that the weaponry of the security forces was not included and that the commission focused on ‘illegal’ or paramilitary weapons alone.⁷² Sinn Fein also demanded that illegal weapons held by Protestants should be included in the decom- missioning process in the Province. Again this did not happen, leading some nationalists to the conclusion that decommissioning was a one-way street. If Sinn Fein had agreed to British demands, the PIRA would no longer be a military force and, indeed, would potentially be at the mercy of the private arms in the hands of the Protestant community and of the security forces. Dublin, aware of the concerns of the nationalist community in the North, argued that if decommissioning went ahead there was a need for a newly constituted police force which was drawn from both communities. Deommissioning was dismissed by some nationalists as merely a delaying tactic by the British Government in an attempt to prolong the cease-fire and pressurize Sinn Fein and the PIRA into giving up the military campaign altogether. The logic of this argument was that the longer the people of the Province got used to peace, the more difficult it would be for the PIRA to re-ignite the campaign.

In addition to nationalist objections, there were numerous practical difficulties about the decommissioning process. Many of those involved in decommissioning believed that the process was bound to falter, simply because of the problems of verification. Questions such as how would the inspectors know that the PIRA had indeed handed in all its weapons were, in the prevailing climate of mistrust, simply unanswerable.

The whole idea of decommissioning appeared to die a death after the Mitchell Committee had actually reported to the Government. The debates on the peace process changed in emphasis towards Unionist demands for the creation of an elected assembly for the Province as the way forward. This proposal was outlined in the Irish Framework Document of February 1995. Nationalists were initially opposed to the idea, seeing any new political structures as inherently biased to the Unionists.⁷³ Such was PIRA frustration at the inability of Sinn Fein radically to influence the peace process that by early 1996 the cease-fire in Ireland was over and the PIRA resumed its military campaign against the British Government. Once again, the British mainland was the subject of a number of ferocious and bloody attacks.

New ideas – old problems

The British Government had, during the first part of the 1990s, tried to reinvent its role in the Province. From the time of the appointment of Peter Brooke, it had sought to become ‘neutral’ participants in an Irish drama. The involvement of Dublin in the talks about peace had made this seem possible, at least for a period. The shift of Sinn Fein into legitimate electoral politics also gave Westminster the chance to see if Adams could persuade the PIRA to lay down its arms. The British Government hoped to use the ‘peace process’ to further the aim of retreating from Ireland. At this stage, though, it was not envisaged that this would be, or could be, a complete retreat, not least because there was the problem of the Unionists. The Conservative Party needed their support to stay in power and could not use their full power to persuade them to accept radically different political institutions for the Province. However, British policies worked, in some respects, at least in the short term. There was a double cease-fire for a time and debate centred more upon Irish-Irish political issues than the British presence.

Yet, nothing had really changed in the essentials of the Province. The problems of two nationalisms – one wishing to be aligned with Britain – still remained as clearly entrenched as ever. Political progress remained slow and controversial. When in 1994–95 political progress proved illusive, the British Government sought to extend the cease-fire through a process of decom- missioning. If this had worked it would have resolved the question of the PIRA and its continued ability to perpetrate violence. But it failed. While Sinn Fein changed its colours, the PIRA did not. Yet the achievement of cease-fire should not be underestimated. At least there were no killings, beatings or other atrocities for the first time in twenty-five years. The paramilitary cease-fire gave the Province a breathing space and some peace. The resumption of the PIRA campaign in early 1996 signalled the end of this particular endeavour.

Throughout the British attempts of the 1990s to reinvent their role in Ireland, the role of the Army has been both controversial and symbolic. Actual numbers of soldiers in the Province were once again being reduced and during the cease-fires themselves the British Army actually left the streets. This was in tune with recent British themes of a willingness to withdraw and attain neutrality in the Province. Indeed, after the Downing Street Declaration Britain did seem closer to disengagement from the affairs of Ireland. Yet, the very presence of the SAS and the Parachute Regiment in the Province gave pause for thought. The use of these troops did not point to a ‘neutral’ British view, but rather to the old endeavour of rooting out and destroying the rebellious opposition. This was one of the inherent paradoxes of the British attitude towards the Province in the 1990s. Neutrality or the expressed ambition for neutrality did not sit comfortably with the operation of special forces. Even as Government representatives negotiated with Sinn Fein for the terms of a peace process, British soldiers sought to destroy the organization. This approach did little to reassure the nationalists that the British Government was sincere in its desire for peace. On the other hand, how could the British Government not continue the war against an opponent which took every opportunity to take the battle to the British mainland, in incidents from the attack on Downing Street to the bomb attack on civilians in Warrington? Yet increasingly the British military response came under scrutiny. In September 1995, the European Court of Human Rights ruled that the killing of three PIRA members by the SAS in Gibraltar in 1988 was unlawful.⁷⁴ This external scrutiny of British behaviour will continue. Until the PIRA are defeated (which seems unlikely) or voluntarily give up the struggle (which is again unlikely), or until the British finally decide to leave (which is not possible while the Unionists operate a veto), the British Army will continue to remain in the Province.

 1 Paul Arthur, ‘The Brooke Initiative’, Irish Political Studies 7 (1992), pp. 111–15.

 2 See Tim Pat Coogan, The Troubles: Ireland's Ordeal 1966–1995 and the Search for Peace (London: Hutchinson, 1995), pp. 337–40.

 3 See Arthur, op. cit., pp. 111–15.

 4 W. Harvey Cox, ‘From Hillsborough to Downing Street – and After’ in Peter Catterall and Sean McDougall, The Northern Irish Question in British Politics (London: Macmillan, 1996), p. 189.

 5 See Coogan, op. cit., p. 204.

 6 See Paul Arthur, ‘Dialogue Between Sinn Fein and the British Government’, Irish Political Studies 10 (1995), pp. 185–91.

 7 See Martin Dillon, The Enemy Within: The IRA's War Against the British (London: Doubleday, 1994), p. 229.

 8 Ibid., p. 230.

 9 Ibid., p. 230.

10 Peter Brooke, Secretary of State for Northern Ireland (Speech), 9 November 1990.

11 Ibid.

12 J. Bowyer Bell, The Irish Troubles: A Generation of Violence (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1993), p. 771.

13 Coogan, op. cit., p. 338.

14 For the exception, on 25 May a Sinn Fein councillor was shot dead, see Coogan, op. cit., p. 338.

15 Culture and Identity; text of a speech by Sir Patrick Mayhew at the University of Ulster, Coleraine, 16 December 1992, provided by the Northern Irish Information Service.

16 Harvey Cox, op. cit., p. 199.

17 Harvey Cox, op. cit., p. 200.

18 Not least, it should be noted that the work of Father Reid is generally regarded as the key to providing the seeds for dialogue between Sinn Fein, the other Northern parties and the Government in the south. On this issue see Coogan, op. cit., p. 372.

19 See Gerry Adams, The Politics of Irish Freedom (Dingle: Brandon Books, 1986) and Towards a Lasting Peace in Ireland (Dingle: Brandon Books, 1992).

20 Dillon, op. cit., p. 228.

21 Bowyer Bell, op. cit., p. 781.

22 Dillon, op. cit., p. 230.

23 Bowyer Bell, op. cit., p. 781.

24 See The Economist, 9–15 February 1991, p. 38.

25 Anthony Mclntyre, ‘Modern Irish Republicanism: The Product of British State Strategies’, Irish Political Studies 10 (1995), pp. 97–121.

26 Harvey Cox, op. cit., p. 189.

27 Ed Moloney, ‘Peace Chronology’, unpublished, 1994, p. 15. Quoted in Anthony Mcintyre, ‘Modern Irish Republicanism: The Product of British State Strategies’, Irish Political Studies 10 (1995), pp. 97–121.

28 Brendan O'Brien, The Long War: The IRA and Sinn Fan from Armed Struggle to Peace Talks (Dublin: O'Brien, 1993), p. 228.

29 Ibid., p. 226.

30 The Economist (30 October-5 November 1993).

31 For Mansergh's role in the peace process, see Coogan, op. cit., p. 367.

32 The Economist (30 October-5 November 1993).

33 Mclntyre, op. cit., pp. 97–121.

34 The Economist (4 December 1993).

35 Kevin Boyle and Tom Haddon, ‘Framing Northern Ireland's Future’, International Affairs 71.2 (April 1995), p. 273.

36 Ibid., p. 273. See also The Weekly Telegraph (8–14 December 1993).

37 Dillon, op. cit., p. 225.

38 Harvey Cox, op. cit., p. 201.

39 Ibid., p. 201.

40 The Economist (6 November 1993).

41 The Weekly Telegraph (22–8 December 1993).

42 Mclntyre, op. cit., pp. 97–121.

43 John Wilson Foster, ‘Processed Peace’ Fortnight (March 1994), pp. 35–6. Quoted in Harvey Cox, op. cit., p. 202.

44 Dillon, op. cit., pp. 259–63.

45 The Tablet (25 December 1993).

46 Weekly Telegraph (22–8 December 1993).

47 On this issue, see Rick Wilford and Sydney Elliott, ‘The Northern Ireland Affairs Select Committee’, Irish Political Studies 10 (1995), pp. 216–25.

48 Ibid., pp. 216–25.

49 Ibid., pp. 216–25.

50 Dillon, op. cit., p. 254.

51 Coogan, op. cit., p. 376.

52 M.L.R. Smith, Fighting for Ireland: The Military Strategy of the Irish Republican Movement (London: Routledge, 1995), pp. 207–8.

53 R. Savill and R. Shrimsley, ‘Ulster Peace Deal Rejected by Sinn Fein’, The Weekly Telegraph (27 July–2 August 1994).

54 Coogan, op. cit., pp. 382–4.

55 The Sunday Times (19 November 1995).

56 The Economist (5–11 February 1994).

57 Ibid.

58 Coogan, op. cit., p. 379.

59 Ibid., p. 369.

60 For a report on the incidents, see The Economist (10 September 1994). For an exposition of the distrust which had come to characterize Unionist views of successive British Cabinets, see W. Harvey Cox, ‘Managing Northern Ireland Intergovernmentally: An Appraisal of the Anglo-Irish Agreement’, Parliamentary Affairs 40, no. 1, January 1987, quoted in Arthur Aughey, Under Siege: Ulster Unionism and the Anglo-Irish Agreement (London: Hurst and Co., 1989), p. 37.

61 See Tom King, House of Commons Debate (hereafter HC), vol. 195, col. 1043, 23 July 1991. I am grateful to Sharda Tarachandra for this reference. It is taken from her MA dissertation, Leeds 1992.

62 Ibid.

63 Bowyer Bell, op. cit., p. 793.

64 Thomas Bartlett and Keith Jeffrey (eds), A Military History of Ireland (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 456.

65 Royal United Services Institute, Newsbrief 13.2 (December 1993).

66 Ibid.

67 Bowyer Bell, op. cit., p. 805.

68 Urban, Big Boy's Rules: The SAS and the Secret Struggle Against the IRA (London: Faber & Faber, 1992).

69 See, for example, Dillon, op. cit. and Dillon and D. Lehane, Political Murder in Northern Ireland (London: Penguin, 1973).

70 Report of the International Body on Arms Decommissioning, 24 January 1996. Mitchell Commission Report, p. 3. http://www.unite.customers/alliance/Mitchellrep.html.

71 Royal United Services Institute, Newsbrief 16.2 (February 1996).

72 Ibid.

73 The Guardian (25 January 1996).

74 The Economist (30 September–6 October 1995), p. 29.