Actions

People/alanmansfield/ch3.html

[[People/alanmansfield/index.html|File:Freotopia people .. img banner.jpg]]

Fremantle Stuff > people > Alan Mansfield > PhD >

===== A Cartography of Resistance:
The British State and Derry Republicanism
=====

Alan Mansfield

S E C T I O N 2

INTRODUCTION

Section 2 of this thesis outlines two of the main discourse formations within the inter-discourse on Northern Ireland. Its aim is to provide an outline of the discourse of the British state and of Irish Republicanism. This section also aims to show something of the interaction between the two discourse formations. This section then, provides the basis for a more detailed and explicit study of the social praxis of resistance to the state by the Republican community of Derry's Bogside and Creggan discussed in Section 3.

Chapter 3 discusses the British state's discourse on Northern Ireland. It is argued here that the British state constitutes Northern Ireland as a problem, which despite its best efforts to 'solve' it cannot. The British State sees itself as continually frustrated by the power of history and the wilfulness of the two communities of Northern Ireland. This chapter argues that a colonial (racist)characterisation of Irish people, bigoted and obsessed with religion,is at the core of the state's discourse on Northern Ireland. The chapter argues that the discourse implicits of counter-insurgency theory explain much of the state's practice in Northern Ireland. The chapter concludes by arguing that it is the Republican community which bears the brunt of the negative characterisations in this official discourse.

Chapter 4 develops an outline of Republican discourse which is extended to the following section. In this chapter the Irish/Catholic/military nature of the Republican discourse is discussed. The chapter concludes with a discussion of the H-block issue. The discussion of the prison struggle provides a concluding comment not only to Chapter 4 but to the whole of Section 2, for it is concerned prominently with the interaction between the discourse formations of the British state and of Republicanism.

== Chapter 3
The British State and Northern Ireland—An Official Discourse ==

3.1 Introduction: The 'Northern Ireland Problem'

'We must conceive discourse as a series of discontinuous segments whose tactical function is neither uniform nor stable. To be more precise, we must not imagine a world of discourse divided between accepted discourse and excluded discourse, or between dominant discourse and the dominated one, but as a multiplicity of discursive elements that can come into play in various strategies. It is this distribution that we must reconstruct, with the things said and those concealed, the enunciations required and those forbidden, that it comprises; with the variants and different effects—according to who is speaking, his (sic) position of power, the institutional context in which he happens to be situated—that it implies, and with the shifts and reutilizations of identical formulas for contrary objectives that it also includes' (Foucault, 1976: 100—my emphasis).

It has been argued elsewhere that the British state has managed to reduce the 'Northern Ireland Problem' to one of controlling terrorism, and furthermore, in doing so, it has been able to present its management of the situation as legitimate and even progressive within liberal, social democratic discourse. Thus,

'Since 1972 the considerable ideological resources of the British state have been used to claim that the Northern Ireland State was decisively reformed by a series of British 'interventions' which culminated in the demise of Stormont and the imposition of Direct Rule from Westminster. These interventions it is suggested, not only prevented full-scale civil war but also implemented full civil rights for the Catholic minority while respecting the democratic wish of the Protestant majority to remain British.

As for any remaining restrictions on civil rights or on the progress to 'proper' social democracy in Northern Ireland, the blame is put on those who dissent from the new arrangements, on the deep and irreconcilable local antagonisms represented by an archaic amalgam of ethnic, religious and national identifications.
The persistence of the most virulent of these antagonisms, embodied in the Provisional IRA, is portrayed as the sole reason for the continuation of 'the Troubles', the mounting volume of repressive legislation and the curtailment of 'normal' citizens rights. This legitimation process has been strengthened, both internally and internationally by a series of ostentatious attempts to encourage a local compromise among elected representatives—each failure demonstrating the irreconcilability of the 'natives' and the extent of the British commitment of pursuing a just settlement (O'Dowd, 1981: 1).

Within Northern Ireland then, there is a discursive formation which emanates from the place of the British state. This discourse foregrounds terrorism and sectarian bigotry. This discourse states that the terrorists, invariably, though not quite always, the IRA, are at fault, it is a 'rotten apple' theory of community, based in counter-insurgency thinking. This formulation makes the state incapable of distinguishing between the communities of the Creggan, Bogside, Falls and the supposed minority within each of these communities. These communities are simultaneously seen as terrorist and terrorised communities. Such communities then are both the victims of internal terror by the IRA and the Republican ghetto which breeds and supports the IRA—a perfect 'catch 22'. 1 At the same time as isolating both the IRA and Republican community, all Northern Irish (and even, in some instances, all Irish) are held to be culpable by the British official discourse. Violence, as Merlyn Rees, one time Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, put it is,

'... in the nature of Northern Ireland, because of people's deep seated views' (Rees, BBC2, Did you See, 8th March 1981).

Foucault (1976) cautions us against conceiving 'dominant' and 'dominated' discourse in a polar fashion. he points out that discourse can be both an instrument and an effect of power, but also a point of resistance for an opposing strategy. He talks of the formulation of 'reverse-discourse', that is, for example, the category 'terrorist' produces a 'terrorist vocabulary' and so forth.

'There is not, on the one side a discourse of power, and opposite it, another discourse that runs counter to it. Discourses are tactical elements or blocks operating in the field of force relations; there can exist different and even contradictory discourses within the same strategy; they can, on the contrary, circulate without changing their form from one strategy to another, opposing strategy' (Foucault, 1976: 101-02).

It may appear, initially, to be simplistic to point out that the presentation of the Northern Ireland Problem by the British state and the understanding of that same problem by some of its other participants is often widely divergent. This thesis, although it mentions others, is concerned to discuss the relationship between the discourse of the British state and the Catholic Republican community of the Bogside/Creggan in Derry. The questions to be asked are, is the British army there to 'aid the civil powers to keep the peace' or to 'occupy territory', does legislation 'control terrorism' or ' enforce occupation', are the people in the goals 'criminals and terrorists in Her Majesty's Prison the Maze' or are they 'prisoners of war in Long Kesh concentration camp'? These questions are crucial because although these discursive entities apparently 'refer' to the same thing—'reality'—they produce very different subjects.
In any society,

'the production of discourse is at once controlled, selected, organised and redistributed according to a number of procedures whose role is to avert its powers and dangers, to master the unpredictable event' (Foucault, 1971: 10-11).

Foucault in 'L'Ordre du discours' (1971) carefully outlines three main groups of procedures for the control of discourse. They are: internal controls; prohibition, division and rejection, and the will to truth; and finally what Sheridan (1980) calls the 'rarefaction of the speaking subject; which include ritual, societies of discourse and cleavages in the social approbation of discourse. 2 There are a number of procedures of exclusion then, the most obvious of which is prohibition:

'We know very well that we are not free to say anything, that we cannot speak of anything when and where we like, and that just anyone, in short, cannot speak of just anything' (Foucault, 1971: 11).

Politics is obviously one of the most important areas where these procedures operate, that is, an area where these procedures are at their strictest. Three types of prohibition, the taboo of the object, the ritual of circumstance and the privileged or exclusive right of the speaking subject, intersect and reinforce one another in a complex, ever-changing network. It is by assuming that 'facts' speak for themselves that nearly all these constraints and controls on discourse are denied. It is precisely these three types of 'prohibition', which are denied by the liberal, voluntaristic notions of 'freedom of the press' and the 'right of free speech' which are so central to the position of the British state and within the discourse of social democracy.

A second procedure of exclusion within discourse is what Foucault terms division and rejection. Such a category is crucial for an understanding of the official discourse of the British state in Northern Ireland. Foucault was concerned with the opposition reason/madness. This principle of opposition reflects within the official discourse on Northern Ireland the difference between order and disorder, between democracy and terrorism, between good and evil. People characterised as 'terrorist' within the discourse of the British state are often referred to as 'bad men', 'evil men'. The 'terrorist' then is first separated from 'normal' people, then rejected as mad/evil. The terrorist 'other' within the official discourse is described as abnormal, inhuman and alien to the British way of life. Consider Schlesinger et al, discussing the television dramatisation of terrorists in Britain:

'The simplest device is to make the terrorists into physical aliens, foreigners who have arrived from elsewhere and don't share our political ideals or way of doing things. Images of 'foreigness' and the residual racism and xenophobia on which they trade are still central to a good deal of popular fiction about terrorism. Similarly, home-grown terrorists are often depicted as having embraced alien beliefs and working to undermine the nation and overthrow democracy, probably with the help of a hostile power. This stereotype of the terrorist as 'foreigner' is often played off against idealised images of 'Englishness'. Landscape is particularly important here. In a number of the programmes we looked at, terrorists were shown disrupting quintessentially English settings such as vicarages in rolling parklands, the Kent orchard country, and elegant eighteenth century buildings and squares.

Terrorists are further separated from 'us' by being presented as fanatics and psychopaths who lack the normal human qualities. Images of women often play an important role in securing these stereotypes. This was certainly the case with the coverage of the Angry Brigade, England's best publicised modern exponents of the anti-system terror practised by the Red Brigades and the Baader-Meinhof group. Although four members of the Brigade were convicted at the trial in December 1972, the popular papers concentrated on the two female defendants, Anna Mendleson and Hilary Creek, and based their stories on the contradiction between violence and femininity. This contrast is also the stock-in-trade of popular fiction. In Who Dares Wins, for example, Skellen's wife and child are held hostage by Helga,the East German weapons expert who has been training the group. Unlike Jenny Skellen, she lacks all the conventional 'feminine' attributes of the wife and mother. As James Follett makes clear in the novelisation, 'she would never allow a weakness for attractive men to undermine her objectivity and efficiency for the simple reason, that as far as Helga was concerned, there was no such thing as an attractive man'. Moreover, when the baby won't stop crying she threatens to kill it' (Schlesinger et al, 1983: 84-85).

Division and rejection then, operates in a number of different ways, around a number of different axes, all cohering in the official discourse, around a structure of 'us' and 'them'. The structures of division and rejection discussed by Schlesinger et al above are all equally applicable to the British State's description of the IRA. 3

Schlesinger et al's inclusion of gender in their account of the construction of a terrorist 'other' is significant for any discussion of Ireland. Firstly, in that women activists are highlighted, secondly where men are involved their lack of 'manly qualities' is stressed. The masked Provo guards of the coffin of Bobby Sands were described as wearing masks because they were too cowardly to show their faces, 4 unlike the proud and courageous British army and RUC (Daily Star, 7th May 1987). In the same way that accounts of terrorism foreground the abnormality of bombs and bullets (terrorist events) and thus the actional/behavioural pathology of terrorism, they also often foreground their gender pathology, and national/ethnic pathology. The horror of a terrorist event is enhanced if it can be suggested, for example, that women, children, or both were hurt, were nearby, or could have been near by and hurt. Equally, the evilness of the IRA in the Bogside/Creggan area is enhanced by the suggestion that the 'men' allow women and children to do their dirty work. This point is discussed further below in the section entitled 'the terrorist other'. The status of terrorist as a total identity here is noteworthy. A terrorist has no family, very unlike both the 'civilian' population and the security forces. The British troops, then, are described in quite the converse way. They are as the Sun newspaper reminds us, 'our boys', they are unmotivated by nationalist fanaticism and are most certainly 'normal' as their proclivity for covering their barrack walls with pictures of naked female flesh and their camaraderie and enjoyment of beer demonstrates. 5

The notion of division and rejection then, emphasises the necessity not only to examine who is speaking or where a particular discourse is coming from but also to note the opposition presented within the particular discourse, to examine, that is, its dialogic heteroglossia. The point of importance, is the differential treatment of authors and utterances; the 'sane' or 'good' are privileged over the 'mad' or 'bad'.

The Republican discourse on Ireland similarly operates via a procedure of division and rejection. Several examples are discussed in Chapter 4. At this juncture, one can note some important comments on fanaticism. They are from a Welsh nationalist and emphasise the 'struggle over the sign' involved in this discursive control.
An interesting comment on extremism and 'deep seated views' is made by John Jenkins the Welsh activist of Mudiad Amddiffyn Cymru (Movement for the Defence of Wales—MAC) imprisoned by the British for ten years at the end of 1969. He was arrested and charged with several offences involving explosives. In a letter dated 1st June 1971 to Cyril Hodges (poet 1915-74) Jenkins states,

'You should not really denigrate fanaticism as such; perhaps if you regard the matter as one of semantics and think of it as an obsession with an ideal, or a deeply dedicated sense of purpose, or even an unswerving objectivity, it will not cause such fear. I will say three things about fanaticism: firstly, that if it is true that a fanatic has the strength of ten men (sic) and the drive of ten men, it is necessary because the other nine can't be bothered. Secondly, it is not always true that the fanatic doesn't count the cost of taking action; I became a fanatic because I was not prepared to accept the result of inaction. Lastly, if Wales is to survive and her culture and heritage flourish, it will be done only by the ferocious and unswerving devotion to Wales above all else. 'All else' includes family, prospects, careers, health, freedom and life itself' (Jenkins, 1981: 32).

Jenkins here, then, is attempting to recolonize the terrain of the middle-ground, the golden mean and thus the extremes. The centrality of compromise and moderation in the state's discourse is turned on its head. This is an important example of what Foucault terms 'the rule of tactical polyvalence' (1976). That is, a concept 'fanaticism', when mobilised in differing discourses suggests radically different meanings. Jenkins, speaking from a position of minority nationalism within the British Isles notes the way in which the term nationalism itself carries different connotations depending upon which strategic unit it is incorporated into:

'The biggest threat to Wales is an internal one and is provided by extremists and nationalists acting together. I refer of course to the many active English nationalists in Wales (who are by blood and birth Welsh) and to the many extreme pacifists who assist them by not opposing them' (Jenkins, 1981: 31).

'The Week that Was' in Chapter 4 makes a number of comments on nationalism in the Anglo/Irish context, but one can note here in the Anglo/Welsh context similar points being made, that from a position outside of the British State it appears that nationalism of the Celtic nations (periphery) is bad, whilst nationalism of the English (centre) is good.
Foucault talks of a second group of procedures that limit and control discourse. Unlike the system of exclusions, which act on a discourse from the outside, these operate from within the discourse itself. The first of these is 'commentary':

'Most societies possess narratives or texts of some kind or another that become the object of variation, transformation or commentary. In our own culture these 'primary' works are religious, legal, literary and, to some extent, scientific texts. But there is no stable or absolute distinction between these primary texts and the mass of secondary texts that they give rise to; there is certainly no homogeneity in the second category ... by drawing on the multiple or hidden meanings attributed to the primary texts, it makes new discourse possible, it also says at last what was articulated silently in the primary texts. Paradoxically, it says for the first time what has already been said and tirelessly repeats what has never been said' (Sheridan, 1980: 124-25).

This mechanism is common in the British state's discourse on Northern Ireland. When Boyle and Hilliard (1975) make their central point, for instance, that the 'law' in Northern Ireland is a 'special case', it is still true to say that the law is a case, special or not. Foucault concludes:

'Commentary averts the unpredictable in discourse by giving it its due: it allows us to say something other than the text itself, but on the condition that the text itself is spoken and in a sense, fulfilled. The open multiplicity, the fortuitousness, is transferred, by the principle of commentary, from what might be said to the number, the form, the mask, the circumstances of repetition' (Foucault, 1971: 27-28).

This explains then, the constant recourse of the British State to the discourse of law and order, even in an emergency situation, where, as Jenkins notes,

'The first duty of the state is to maintain the integrity of its external borders and to secure law and order internally; to this law all else is subject and in an emergency all countries assume the right to suspend Democracy, Christianity, and indeed anything they feel inhibiting to this fight for survival' (Jenkins, 1981: 21).

The official discourse on Northern Ireland, then, is a unified, seemingly obvious, commonsensical and apparently 'non-political' construction. It is ideological in the sense that it 'appears' to 'merely state what is there'. It is a 'common sense' which is most usually uncritically reflected in the British media. It is perhaps the most basic instance of language 'speaking for itself' in the way referred to earlier. That is, language constructs, rather than describes a particular social reality. It is important to point out, of course, that given this account of the problem, the role of the British state becomes twofold. Firstly, one of policemen hunting out the IRA, the epitome of both perverse Irishness and the embodiment of international marxist terrorism. Secondly,of mediator, an impartial referee among the 'bog-wogs'. Thus the location of the blame for the social conflict is firmly placed in Northern Ireland, an 'extraordinary place'. Just how 'extraordinary' is revealed in a newspaper report from the Guardian,

'Anyone accustomed to wandering around the countries of the 'Third World' would find little in Ulster that is unfamiliar. Guerillas, suspended democracy, armies and gunmen on the streets, unthinkable behaviour in prisons, questionable and questioned frontiers, squalid housing, grinding poverty, indifferent multinationals, once vibrant economies in visible decline—these are the essential characteristics of much of the contemporary world. The uniqueness of Northern Ireland is that it lies not south of the Equator, but just off the shores of Britain' (R Gott, Guardian, 10th February 1980: 21).

The discursive entity the 'Northern Ireland Problem' is part of the dominant discourse and as such it speaks from, represents and allows the possibility of only one position, that of the official discourse. The 'Northern Ireland problem' is part of a strategic unity, belonging to the official discourse. without interrogation or explanation then, the statement 'Northern Ireland Problem' controls and delimits an account of itself, furthermore, it produces an account which is bound to an official discourse. This example is typical of the way in which official discourse permeates everyday language. The phrase 'Northern Ireland Problem' has an efficacy at two different levels, or rather, in two different ways. As Pateman (1977) and Hodge and Kress (1979) remark, there is some power within words themselves. Foucault is correct in stating, in this sense, that language is power. 6 Language is power, however, mainly because of the pervasive nature of the official discourse. That is to say, the discourse 'Northern Ireland Problem' has power because of its integration within the official discourse, but also power because it appears a 'naturalistic. Thus it can be transferred to other discursive unities without (necessarily) losing traces of its original signification—that which it has in the official discourse.

This 'problem' has been rephrased as the 'London/Dublin problem'. This most usually occurs within community discourses, from 'anti-state' speaking positions present within the discourse of the community. This discourse is represented by such popular sloganizing statements as:

'Don't vote, it only encourages them'. 'Whichever way you vote, the government gets in'.

The pronouns of solidarity and exclusion (them and you) clearly indicating an enunciative position outside of the official discourse. In this sense, the construct London-Dublin, as opposed to Northern Ireland, reflects the oppositional stance of the community discourse. The official discourse locates the 'problem' within Northern Ireland, more precisely within the community(ies) of Northern Ireland. the community discourse locates the 'problem' at the level of the state. The significance of both constructs regarding the problem is heightened when it is noted that both entities contain ethnic and nationalist categories. It can be noted that the discursive struggle revolving around community development can be focused in terms of class and ethnicity, often these two discourses intersect. 7


The constitutive nature of the construct 'Northern Ireland Problem' is apparent then in the reformulation—the 'London/Dublin problem'. This reformulation allows significant other possibilities. The 'reflective' nature of this reformulation, however, should alert one to the problem of escaping dominant discourses. The minority discourse is not simply a reflection of the 'official discourse' in 'reverse' so to speak, neither let it be said, is the popular version of the official discourse so manifested in the British press or the 'common sense' of the British public. Whether British troops are an 'army of occupation' or are 'policing the Creggan', the fact remains that they do patrol both the Creggan and the Bogside of Derry.


Any privileging which the British state's discourse on Ireland has is, of course, denied within that discourse. When David Gillard hurried to the USA to combat the bad publicity surrounding the hunger-strikes at the end of 1980 he stated,

'A government cannot win a propaganda war. Terrorists and their spokesmen (sic) can say or do anything they like, and the perception becomes fact. We can only hammer away at the truth, but the truth gets overwhelmed in a sea of propaganda' (Hickey, TV Guide, 26th September 1981: 13).

Having given a brief introduction to the 'Northern Ireland Problem' as a construct of the official discourse it is now time to outline in more detail the specific features of this 'problem'.


The rest of this chapter will concentrate on detailing five major aspects of this 'problem' which have been raised by the discussion thus far. The first significant point is the characterization of the Northern Ireland Problem as a problem (because) of the people in Northern Ireland. The British state characterizes the Northern Irish within it's discourse as sectarian bigots. This particular construction of Irish history produces, within the discourse of the state, a 'coherent' reason for Northern Irish pathology and the 'incoherence' of the 'Troubles' to those on the British mainland. This discussion is followed by a brief account of the British state's relation to Protestant Loyalism. This is necessary to demonstrate the twin structure of the discourse of the British State outlined above. It is both all Northern Irish and the Catholic Irish (IRA) who are at fault. For Protestants this creates important tensions in their dealings with the British government as the account of Ian Paisley, below, demonstrates. The third theme detailed concerns the British state and its criminalization policy. This discussion concludes with a discussion of the hunger-strikes. This section is followed by a brief characterization of the 'terrorist other' (the IRA), a discussion which is extended in chapter four. Both these later sections illustrate the way in which the British state's discourse exerts its moral and ethical claims to truth significantly via the mechanism of the law and a notion of 'law and order' which illustrates the controls on discourse outlined by Foucault in the introduction to this chapter. This chapter ends by suggesting the powerful counter-insurgency frame of the discourse of the British state, a frame which underlines the colonial nature of the official discourse. The nature of the British state's discourse on the 'Northern Ireland Problem' demonstrates the ambivalence and contradiction which characterizes all colonial discourses.

Before detailing these five points, however, one further aspect needs to be reiterated. The British discourse on Northern Ireland operates, because of the state's necessary self characterization as an unbiased mediator, in a context of continually having its good intentions frustrated by the wilful or malevolent Irish. A central feature of the 'Northern Ireland Problem' constructed by the official discourse is the fact that despite the best efforts of the British state, there is no solution to the problem available, Northern Ireland, or rather, the 'Northern Ireland Problem' has, and always will, present a 'problem for every solution'.

Humphrey Atkins (at the time, Secretary of State for Northern Ireland) in talking about a conference to try and solve the problems of Northern Ireland stated:

'There's no need for anyone to leave the conference table—we're not going to be voting about this proposal or that, we're going to seek agreement, and if we can't find agreement then nevermind, we'll leave that point and go on to something else' (H Atkins, Speech in House of Commons, 14th March 1980).

The search for 'agreement' within the official discourse is then, pursued with a zeal that almost denies logic. The 'intractability' of the Northern Ireland Problem is well revealed by this quote if one knows that it was addressed primarily to Protestants and particularly the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP). It says to them 'Don't worry' the 'Irish dimension', that is, the possibility of reunification of Ireland will not be discussed. The following statement reveals this much more clearly, the last few words 'no plot ... no sell out' are particularly important. These are all very well-known, well-worn clichés of Protestant Loyalist discourse:

'The Government repeatedly have declared that Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom and will remain so unless its people and the Parliament at Westminster decide otherwise. That is the law of the land, enshrined in the Northern Ireland Constitution Act of 1973. It is fundamental to the Government's thinking. It is something to which I am personally and deeply committed. let me say with all the emphasis at my command that there is no plot. There is no sell out' (H Atkins, 7th August 1981).

This discourse states that the 'law of the land' is fundamental to the government's thinking. The law of the land is the will of the people plus the will of the government. The majority of the people wish to maintain the union, therefore, the law of the land is that Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom and will remain so. If the majority of Northern Ireland, the Protestants, cannot trust Westminster, they can trust H Atkins as he is personally committed to this state of affairs. He reinforces this commitment by identifying with the Protestant majority by using their battle slogans of 'plot' and 'sell out'. The occasion on which this speech was made—after joint Westminster/Dublin talks with the Irish Taoiseach Charles Haughey—is significant. The Irish PM and in particular Charles Haughey who has a well-known Republican background, and the Pope are the figureheads of hatred and mistrust of Protestant Loyalism and particularly of Ian Paisley and his Democratic Unionist Party.

The official discourse has to encapsulate and contain contradictory elements. It states that the problems of Northern Ireland are PIRA violence and Protestant intransigence, both the 'fault' of the people of Northern Ireland. It achieves this through the discourse of sectarianism. If PIRA terrorism can be categorised as 'crimes against the people' rather than crimes against the state, the PIRA can then be seen in the light of a sectarian and criminal element which threatens 'ordinary' human beings. In a similar fashion Protestant intransigence, which can at times be violent, is seen not as directed at Westminster but at Catholics, again the picture is one of sectarian bigotry. The total picture, then, is of a social democracy trying its very best to stop two divided communities, one of which is claimed to contain a strongly criminal element, from destroying each other. In this sense then, hegemony is fought for within the discursive formation of Northern Ireland.

In talking of any proposed new arrangements for Northern Ireland, a government White Paper, The Government of Northern Ireland: Further Proposals for Discussion elaborates the wider context of the British state's position:

'The needs of the people of Northern Ireland, which go deeper than any particular set of political institutions are: PEACE, in particular from terrorist violence, and RECONCILIATION; STABILITY in the sense of a settled framework of government, to provide a base for ECONOMIC RECONSTRUCTION' (HMSO, July 1980: 8—emphasis in original).

This text connects peace and reconciliation, stability and economic reconstruction. Moreover, it does not merely show that they go together but implies a causal relationship; terrorism, here being opposed to peace and reconciliation and stability, will lead (has led) to economic decline. The use of 'IN PARTICULAR from terrorism' comprises a veiled reference to sectarian bigotry which is 'in the nature of Ulster'. What else would one require peace from in Northern Ireland if not from sectarian bigotry, which, given that terrorism is primarily directed towards the state, is the other 'peace problem'? The introduction of the word 'reconciliation' in the next clause reinforces this interpretation. The needs of the people of Northern Ireland, in this discourse are based on economic reconstruction. The problem of Northern Ireland is that without peace, reconciliation and stability, economic life cannot take place. What the text has produced then, is both a sanction for the state's policing policy and a position for the British state as neutral arbiter.
The next three paragraphs in the same document make the articulation of these elements of the discourse even more explicit:

'Those needs interlock. One shortcoming can reinforce another; and, conversely, progress in one direction enhances the prospects for overall advance. Any new arrangements must recognise that the need to counter terrorism and the need for reconstruction in Northern Ireland are matters of overriding concern for the people of Northern Ireland, and that each interacts with the need for political advance' (HMSO, July 1980: 9).

This paragraph clearly links a 'need to counter terrorism' with a 'need for reconstruction in Northern Ireland. 'The people' of Northern Ireland, a unity, are all concerned with these two needs, this is the only way to 'advance'. The privileged concepts of terrorism, commerce and 'progress', development, are all intersecting in this discourse. The government's battle against terrorism will lead to economic prosperity AND political ADVANCE. The use or lexical 'choice' of the word SHORTCOMING should be noted. Does it suggest individual (Irish) failures, such as a recourse to terrorism, as being responsible for all other ills? The text is at least ambiguous, for instance, winning the battle against 'terrorists' enhances 'overall advance', which, as the previous paragraph has suggested, is 'economic reconstruction'. The following paragraph places 'terrorism' within the discourse of law and order, thus legalising measures to combat terrorism. The 'Prevention of Terrorism Act 1974' and the 'Criminalisation Policy' 8 are powerful aspects of this. Thus:

'It is the Government's policy to combat terrorism within the framework of the law, with the lead taken by the police and the army in a vital but supporting role' (HMSO, July 1980: 10).

This paragraph also refers indirectly to another aspect of the British government policy in Northern Ireland, that of 'Ulsterisation'. A central tenet of this policy is the NORMALISATION of the situation. This involves using the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the Ulster Defence Regiment wherever possible as an alternative to mainland British troops. Another important aspect of this policy, however, one which is referred to in the above quotation, is to use the police instead of the army wherever possible. This 'normalisation' policy has the effect of cementing terrorism within the law and order discourse. That is, it criminalises 'terrorism' and terrorist acts. Thus, the official discourse depoliticises terrorism. The next paragraph of the document clearly shows the relationship between the specifically terrorist discourse of Northern Ireland and the 'international' discourse of terrorism.

'The security situation has a direct bearing on any aspect of any new arrangements for the government of Northern Ireland. The involvement of the United Kingdom Government in the fight against terrorism' (HMSO, July 1980: 12).

The United Kingdom government's fight against terrorism is a fight shared by many European social democratic states. The situation, then in Northern Ireland is clearly government versus terrorist, constructed as an 'us' and 'them' situation ('us', 'we' and 'them' remember are pronouns of exclusion and solidarity).

The conclusion of the official discourse is, therefore:

'We all have a common interest in peace and reconciliation, we all have a common interest in creating a society, where the gunman has no place and where he will no longer be able to kill and maim innocent people; and we all have a common interest in building better working relationships within these islands and within Europe' (H Atkins, 7th August 1981).

Furthermore:

'We will not be deflected from serving the best interests of the people of the United Kingdom including the people of Northern Ireland. Attempts at intimidation will fail. No-one in Northern Ireland stands to gain from them. The rule of law must apply to everyone ... the government's first priority is to protect the people of Northern Ireland from the bullet and the bomb ... They (terrorists) are the enemies of us all' (H Atkins, 7th August 1981).

The pronoun 'we' in the first part of H Atkins' speech unites 'the people' and the government. Not only are the government and the people one but they are a unity which knows what is needed. The statements of H Atkins on 2nd July, referred to earlier, are echoed here. On 2nd July remember, the speech intimated that the government's knowledge was not haphazard but based on facts and research. The pronoun 'we' of the second paragraph quoted above, however, refers only to the government. The government knows what is best for the people, again 'knows' suggests belief based on facts. The fact that the government knows not only what is best for the people of Northern Ireland but also the United Kingdom suggests some superior kind of information. The government is, presumably, unlike the people of Northern Ireland able to possess and act upon a wider information base, a perspective which includes the interests of the United Kingdom in general.

If the speaking position of the text is examined one can observe that there are things which the utterance cannot say; the fact that 'the people' are not united, that it at best refers to 'a majority', which in Northern Ireland, of course, refers almost solely to the Protestant population, and the fact that 'the government' is NOT synonymous with 'the people' are important examples of things that cannot be said.

The concept of 'peace' is worth commenting on in this light. There are, at least, three prominent positions, that of the British government, Loyalism and Republicanism.

The British government's position is peace and reconciliation. Peace, then, does not equal reconciliation. 'Peace' refers to an end to 'terrorism', the defeat of the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA) and the Irish National Liberation Army (INLA) and 'reconciliation' to the disappearance of 'sectarianism', characterised within the official discourse as the religious bigotry and hatred of the two communities for each other. It is interesting to note that a differential characterisation of Republican and Loyalist paramilitaries occurs within this strategy. Generally speaking, Republican paramilitaries, the PIRA and INLA are regarded as 'aggressive', they attack the state. Their Loyalist counterparts, however, are characterised as reactive, at worst, engaging in sectarian bigotry characterised often as 'justifiable anger'. Within the official discourse, the gunman, and this becomes the sum total of the individual, reminiscent of Westerns and outside the law, is not to be included in society. Gunmen kill innocent people, furthermore, they do not merely kill but kill and 'maim'. This 'double horror', killing but also sadistically maiming, is a common characterisation of terrorist activity, what I call a double structure of perversion. The role of the British press is significant here. Within this discourse, the British army are not gunmen, they defend the law, therefore, they protect the innocent. They are, then, the government's way of protecting the people. The characterisation of the army in this way couples legitimacy with innocence. 9

The 'peace and reconciliation' position of the official discourse can be contrasted with the Loyalist discourse which is more specifically limited to the re-establishment of law and order, that is, an end to 'murder' through the defeat of the PIRA. As the section on Protestant Loyalism and the British state makes clear, although both the British state and Protestant Loyalism share a common hatred for the PIRA the two positions should not be seen as synonymous. The addition of the sectarian (racist/outsider) dimension of the official discourse implicates Loyalism as well.
The Republican position is peace with justice, that is, the withdrawal of the British troops, the establishment of an all-Ireland socialist republic and thus the ending of the need for military campaigns.
The battle against terrorism is once more brought to an international plane within the discourse of the British state. 'These Islands' refer to the British Isles which equals the United Kingdom and Eire. These islands are linked with the rest of Europe, and thus with the European Economic Community (EEC) and the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO). The EEC and NATO are referred to in the phrase 'better working relationships'. The hidden allusions to organisations such as NATO in this light then, are not unexpected. The intersection between the discourses of terrorism, law and order, and global politics is clear. Within the official discourse, terrorism is both a problem of law and order, of criminality and also is connected to East/West relations, is part of the West's fight against totalitarianism. 10

3.2 Medieval Catchcries and Sectarian Bigotry

'Ireland's three traditional obsessions: politics, religion and war ... are instinctive expressions of medieval mentality' (Smith, 1984: 104).

'Talk to each other, Prior told the warring factions of N Ireland; its up to yourselves to sort out your problems. He played the role of the helpless, hapless, hopeless Englishman—I'm here to learn, you know—an honest broker here to help the mad Irish stop their centuries-old barbaric practices. He was neutral—England had no part in the development for what passes as politics in Northern Ireland so he could act as an impartial referee in the violent games, verbal and physical, played by the opposing teams' (Community Mirror, September 1982: 2—editorial).

Given the British state's account of the Northern Ireland Problem, the only way for social change, that is, an end of the 'holy' war, to occur is through education, compromise and agreement:

'The principle of consent is the only possible framework within which both those who wish to maintain Northern Ireland's present status within the United Kingdom and those who aspire to Irish unity can pursue their own objectives by legitimate and peaceful means. Statutory provision exists for the wishes of the Northern Ireland electorate to be tested at intervals by a 'border poll' (HMSO, July 1980: 5).

The text recognises the legitimacy of those who aspire to Irish unity—the unification of the island of Ireland—but only by 'consent', that is, not by a military campaign such as that mounted by PIRA or the INLA. The state must have the prerogative on force, hence the distinction between 'force' and 'violence', force being used by the state 'when necessary', violence being 'perpetrated' by the PIRA or INLA. Furthermore, the 'consent' must occur within the context of Northern Ireland and the United Kingdom. There is an undisclosed bias in this situation then. Given the 'gerrymandered' nature of the Northern Ireland state itself, the 'border polls' have fairly predictable results and split along Protestant/Catholic lines. Thus, given that Northern Ireland is roughly two thirds Protestant, it ensures that there will never be any change in constitutional status. Those who did wish to maintain Northern Ireland's present status within the United Kingdom, that is the Protestant majority and perhaps the people of the UK itself, are not equivalent to 'those who aspire to Irish unity' which does not, in this discourse include those who live in the Irish Republic. Defending the democratic principle of an appeal to the majority in the context of the Northern Ireland state, is a defence of the status quo, ensuring that no changes will occur. This discourse is based on the belief that everyone can achieve justice though the 'democratic process'.

The obstacle that prevents this in Northern Ireland according to the discourse of the British state, is people's, individual' bigotry and prejudice. Until this 'sectarian' behaviour ceases, the situation cannot progress:

'Thus the development of new political arrangements in Northern Ireland must rest on these foundations: the majority community should be confident that Northern Ireland cannot be separated from the rest of the United Kingdom without the consent of the majority of its people; the minority community should accept and respect that fact; and in response the majority should ensure a positive role for the minority community in arrangements for the government of Northern Ireland' (HMSO, July 1980: 5).

The 'development', that is, improvement, cannot occur overnight. Until the bigotry of the two communities is overcome, the process of development cannot begin to build on these foundations. The message here then, is 'be patient'. The utterance also suggests in the last sentence, 'arrangements for the government of Northern Ireland', that the official discourse sees a certain degree of autonomy in Northern Ireland. The 'problems of Northern Ireland' are, to a certain extent, disowned by the British state. The use of the word SHOULD, with reference to what 'both communities' 'should' do is worth noting. In the context of the official discourse 'should' means 'it is right that they should but they don't.' When what is being demanded is examined this is unsurprising. The 'minority' should accept that democracy cannot satisfy their aims, other than through the consent of the 'majority', who are 'opposed' to a united Ireland. In return for this, that is, the maintenance and agreement to the status quo by the minority, the majority must relinquish some power, involve themselves in 'power-sharing'. That is, there will be no change in Northern Ireland.

The 'stalemate' that exists in Northern Ireland within the official discourse is the fault of the terrorist gunmen and the sectarian bigotry of the people of Northern Ireland. The 'sectarian' problem for a paternalist social democratic state is encapsulated thus:

'The key to stability in Northern Ireland is the healing of the divisions between the two communities ...'

'What Her Majesty's Government can do in this respect is limited. It can create, with the help of representatives of the two communities, fair and workable institutions. But governments cannot create the will to make the institutions work ...'
'Political stability in Northern Ireland has in the past been impaired by the difference in view among many members of the two communities regarding the long term future of Northern Ireland' (HMSO, July 1980: 4—emphasis in original).

The 'healing' of the 'two communities' suggests a body which is not healthy. The sickness is 'division', that is, when united and whole they will be healthy—yet they are 'two communities'. The government, a single, whole entity with the help of representatives of the two communities, two parts which together make one whole, will equal fairness and stability. The 'will' to make any new arrangements work, however, is internal to the two communities. This again suggests a distant uninvolved state, no ideological state apparatuses can give the people of Northern Ireland the desire to make this new arrangement work. The problems of Northern Ireland, within this discourse are internal,
a matter of the VIEWS, that is 'bigotry' of many members of the two communities. 11 These statements heavily shift responsibility onto the Northern Ireland people, as two communities of individuals, and away from the state. The British government within the official discourse is presented as doing what it can to resolve this intractable 'ethnic' problem, bending over backwards even to help.

The problem in Ireland then continues because as Phillip Adams 12 graphically puts it,

'the two Irish communities persist in hacking each other to pieces over the decimal points in theology' (Adams, P, ABC TV, 24th March 1983).

Such a perspective completely absolves the British state of any blame in the 'problem' (see Figure 3.1). The colonialist inferences, intertextualities, of the above statement are made clearer by a comment from Peregrine Worsthorne, 13 who talks of greater and lesser breeds:

'The English have every reason to feel proud of their country's recent record in Northern Ireland, since it sets the whole world a uniquely impressive example of altruistic service in the cause of peace. Nothing done by any other country in modern times so richly deserves the Nobel peace prize...

The British do not have their heart in Northern Ireland. The spur is duty, not love or affection or even interest ...
Yet the responsibility remains, and is seen to remain, perhaps all the stronger for being so patently lacking in emotional commitment. This, I think, is where the IRA makes its greatest mistake: in underestimating the maturity of the British people, their unique capacity to carry on without the kind of sentimental uplift which less adult breeds find so essential for sustained resolve and sacrifice' (Sunday Telegraph, 3rd May 1981, also cited in Curtis, 1984: 223—my emphasis).

Such views of the Irish are demonstrated in Figures 3.2 and 3.3 Darby (1976) cites an edition of Punch (18th October 1962), Which discusses an

"intermediate animal' between a gorilla and a negro. It comes from, it belongs in fact to a tribe of savages, the lowest species of the Irish Yahoo. When conversing with its kind it talks a sort of gibberish ... sometimes ... it sallies forth in states of excitement, and attacks civilised human beings that have provoked its fury' (Darby, 1976: ,170).

Burton notes that 'Anro' is referred to as the 'Mau-Mau jungle' and the 'cannibal village' (1978: 132). Parts of the

Figure 3.1

Source: Voices for withdrawal, pp 24—25
Figure 3.2

Figure 3.3

Source: Curtis (1984)

Creggan estate in Derry were referred to on occasion as 'Cannibal Island'. The intertextual reference of such naming is clear, as is the nomenclature of the 'tribal' maps used by the British army in Northern Ireland. Such a politics of naming maps the terrain of the social in a way not dissimilar to the way in which the maps mark out and index a physical terrain.

3.3 The British State and Protestant Loyalism

The USC, better known as the 'B' Specials, was betrayed by weak, misguided, stupid men to appease vociferous Republican elements determined to destroy the security system which had guaranteed the safety of the state for half a century ...

... Masquerading under the banners of justice, democracy, and peace the IRA engaged in a reign of terror unknown since the Huns ravaged Europe. Systematic massacre, barbaric torture, and scorched earth has been the daily diet of Ulster people. The flames of political terrorism have been generated by constitutional uncertainty, and consequent hopes of success which accompany the ritual search for a 'political situation', which involves every formula but that chosen by 80% of Ulster people—Union with Great Britain.
... Ulster people see a deliberate attempt to bankrupt the industrial, commercial and business life of the country. They see the repeated selection of key loyalist targets as naked sectarianism designed to destroy the basis of their existence. They see a planned merciless eviction of Protestants from the Frontier and religiously mixed urban districts which are rapidly transformed into Republican strongholds generating civil disobedience and mafia-like crime and terrorism. Squatting is practised, rent, rate, electricity and gas charges have been and still are withheld, protection rackets flourish and there is a black market on drugs.
... They see a deliberate attempt not only to inflict physical damage but to terrorise the whole population ... in a campaign so vile that the wounded have to be guarded, and so depraved that success is seen as a living hell of crippled bodies, anguished minds, and orphaned children who are human cenotaphs to terrorism' (Ulster Special Constabulary Association, 30th April 1980: 57-58).

Protestant Loyalist discourse is clearly oppositional to that of Catholic Republicanism, this much is shared with the official discourse of the British government. Both see the PIRA as the core of the Northern Ireland Problem. Protestant Loyalist discourse does not, however, articulate their theory of an evil pathological minority with either 'the nature of Ireland' or with all people in Ireland. Even if the extension from PIRA to all Catholics/all Republicans is made, as on occasion it can be, and is, this extension cannot cover northern Protestants. Protestant Loyalism is importantly, in conflict with the discourse of the British state on this matter. At the very least there are occasions when the British seem gullible or ambivalent to northern Protestant Loyalists, at worst they can be seen as treacherous, ready to 'sell out' Ulster to the government of Eire. 14 This point, of course, cannot be 'understood' (spoken) in the British state's official discourse an important precondition of which is the tying together of a racist sectarianism applicable to all Irish people and the rotten-apple theory of IRA pathology. In this sense then, Protestant fears and anger at actions of the British government are incomprehensible in Britain, other than, of course, via the typification of the Irish generally as primitive, incomprehensibly hung-up on medieval doctrines and bigotry. Ian Paisley as a figure of British demonology (and Irishness) illustrates the formation clearly. Interestingly, in this respect, he is little different from Gerry Adams.
Reaction in Britain to Paisley's 'Carson Trail' 15 varied, as Hickey (1984) notes from contempt to incomprehension. Hickey quotes an article which appeared in the Sunday Times of 8th February 1981. The article is headed 'ULSTER BUFFOONERY' and says:

'There are times when inflexibility is a virtue. It is a fair bet that Mrs Thatcher will not be swayed from her modest initiative towards improved Belfast-Dublin relations by Dr Paisley's absurd nocturnal posturings on an Antrim hillside. Nor should she be. The joint studies now afoot between officials in Dublin and London about possible new institutions—new ways of treating common problems—are entirely unmenacing to Northern Protestantism. Indeed, they hold out the only prospect of ultimate peace. It is axiomatic that, just as there can be no settlement in the North without taking account of Northern Catholicism's loyalty to the Irish idea and Dublin, so there can be none that does not command the ready assent of those Northern Protestants who are attached to the union and London.

That still leaves a wide area for useful exploration. Dr Paisley merely stultifies the endeavours of sensible men and encourages fools by his antics. He has been watching too much television about that disreputable buccaneer Sir Edward Carson' (Sunday Times, 8th February 1981).

Hickey concludes,

'There is no need to labour the point; the effect of such sentiments on Protestants in Northern Ireland can be imagined. The sense of threat under which they constantly live would not be allayed by the stereotyped assurance given in the last sentence of the first paragraph. Rather it would be increased by seeing the activities of the man who has demonstrated at the polls that he has massive support among Northern Ireland Protestants described as 'absurd nocturnal posturings'. And the effect would be multiplied several times over by the contemptuous dismissal of the man who is probably the most prominent 'hero' in Protestant history here as a 'disreputable buccaneer'. All this coming from a journal which is supposed to be the chief mouthpiece of responsible opinion in London, the seat of the Parliament, which has ultimate control over the constitutional future of Northern Ireland' (Hickey, 1984: 46-47).

As Hickey also notes, the anxieties of Protestants would be further exacerbated by what they see as the sectarian basis of IRA pathology discussed below.

The rhetoric of 'a plot to sell Ulster to the South' and to 'capitulate to the evil IRA' are significant factors of Protestant Loyalist discourse. It must be remarked that on 24th March 1972 the British state prorogued the Stormont (Loyalist) devolved parliament and assumed Direct Rule—furthermore it was a Conservative government that did so—the Conservative Party has strong links with the Unionist Party in Northern Ireland. There is a distinction within Protestant Loyalist strategy between the Government, or state and the Queen as the representative of Britishness.

Weiner (1975) quotes statements such as 'We love the Queen but hate parliament'. Paisley himself has on various occasions articulated such sentiments. This is the sense in which Protestant Loyalists see themselves as more British than the British. 16 It is why, for instance, Ian Paisley was the one to complain about the 'flag of my country', the Union Jack, being flown upside-down at the European Parliament, when most British Westminster Euro MPs had not even noticed. Given what is at stake in Protestant Loyalist discourse—Britishness vs not-Britishness, specifically, Irishness—it is not surprising at all and certainly cannot be put down either to Ireland's neurosis or pathology—both of which are prominent in the British mainstream press.

The arguments in the House of Commons upon the announcement of the death of Mr Robert Bradford MP by the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Mr James Prior will illustrate the degree to which the Protestant Loyalist strategy is opposed to that of the British state. On Monday 16th November 1981 Peter Robinson, John McQuade and Ian Paisley (Ulster MPs) were suspended from the House for five days. It was Paisley's second suspension for the year.

Peter Robinson said to Mr Prior after he had made the announcement of Bradford's death:

'The blood of Ulster is on your hands. You are the guilty men'

John McQuade said,

'You have given us nothing but the IRA'
(House of Commons, 16th November 1981).

All three MPs were then suspended, the House of Commons was in uproar, with other MPs booing and shouting at the three, who, to quote the Speaker of the House, George Thomas,

'came with the deliberate intention of ... ignoring the democratic process of this House' (House of Commons, 16th November 1981).

Ian Paisley talked of a 'Third force' helping the RUC and the Army which could be used to help destroy the IRA. He was suggesting a Protestant militia like the one time 'B' Specials. He 'offered' Mrs Thatcher such a force about six months previously. He said that he would now be 'forced' to return to Ulster not to 'start one, but to show her that they are already there'. He said to reporters outside the House:

'We have no other option but to call on the people of Northern Ireland to make it impossible for Margaret Thatcher and her ministers to govern Northern Ireland' (House of Commons, 16th November 1981).

The pronoun of solidarity 'we' clearly signals who the 'people of Northern Ireland' who are going to be called on are—Protestant Loyalists. Margaret Thatcher and her ministers are precisely not the equivalent of Britishness for this group. A specific people/state opposition is developed, 'We, the Protestants of Ulster, against the British State in Westminster, If the referent of 'we' is not clear enough here, Paisley amplifies beyond doubt at the service of Bradford's funeral when he said 'We don't want to do anything to hurt our own people'—that is, we, the 'third force' don't wish to ... hurt our own (Protestant, Loyalist) people" (Paisley, BBC1 News, November 1981). 17

Other reactions in Westminster that day reveal much about the two other strategies discussed elsewhere in this thesis those of the British state and Republicanism. The vast majority of MPs in the House demonstrated their agreement with the Speaker by shouting and booing at the three suspended MPs—reacting against the IRISH who were 'at it once more'. The Labour party spokesman, Don Concannon, emphasised his alignment with the British state's position through clichéd phrases (with which political debate is overloaded) suggesting it was necessary to help the government in their 'difficult task' that is, their difficult task of mediation in the affairs of the intractable, immoderate, bigoted Ulster people.

John Hume, leader of the SDLP, the mainstream Catholic Nationalist Party, revealed a slightly different position. Whilst undeniably speaking from within a parliamentary social democratic strategy, also, incidently, through the stringing together of clichés, he distinguished his position from that of Paisley and others. he said that Ian Paisley was 'trying to cash in' on the 'justifiable anger' which 'all of us have to cope with' in this 'desperately divided situation'. He then, however, proceeded to point out that Northern Ireland already had the British Army, Royal Ulster Constabulary, Royal Ulster Constabulary Reserves and the Ulster Defence Regiment so in fact any new force would be a fifth force. He ended this by saying 'I don't know how many forces they need', the pronoun they, of course, referring to Protestant Loyalists.
The 'third force' for several weeks after these speeches became a 'media-phrase' despite Hume's 'correction'. Reporters from the BBC were in Ulster talking of 'an inflamed province' with many people calling for the establishment of a 'third force'. Ian Paisley arranged several demonstrations of this 'third force'. The reaction of the security forces to the 'shows of strength' of this third force illustrate well the contradiction of the Protestant Loyalist/British state relation. The 'third force' demonstrations were regarded by the security forces, not within the mainland UK framework of the absolute prerogative of the state to 'police the community', but in the sectarian Northern Irish context. Thus the third force demonstrators were victims of 'justifiable anger' to be regarded, not as dangerous para-military figures, but as a nuisance because they diverted the energy of the security forces away from their real task of defeating the IRA. They were to quote the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher,

'innocent citizens ... goaded by the cynical and evil men who head the IRA ... and take the law into their own hands ...' (Lord Mayor's Speech—M Thatcher, Tuesday 17th November 1981).

While the deeds of the 'third force' were still hot on the press, James Prior, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, who replaced H Atkins in October 1981, made the statement:

'The situation in Northern Ireland is at this minute in time, totally one of beating the IRA'.

The audience to which this statement was intended is quite clear. Mr Prior continued:

'Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom and will be governed as part of the UK like any other part of the UK' (Thursday, 19th November 1981 , James Prior).

The apparent 'inconsistency' of saying Northern Ireland, with the army on the streets, goals crowded with 'special prisoners', vast amounts of oppressive security legislation, plus a whole series of laws special to Northern Ireland such as the Payment for Debt Act and the inapplicability of some of the mainland UK legislation in Northern Ireland, horrific unemployment figures, and more, is 'like the rest of the UK' has been smoothed over. What is important is not a comparison between Northern Ireland and mainland UK, such a 'comparison' would hardly be plausible, but merely the linkage of Northern Ireland and the UK. The rest of the UK is the important part then, it states clearly that Northern Ireland is part of the UK. It further suggests that any 'deviation' from the UK pattern in Northern Ireland is merely transitory, merely the result of the evil influences of the IRA. It bases itself in and discursively constructs the logic of the British state's management of the Province—Ulsterisation, the criminalisation policy, and so forth. This statement is addressed to the Protestant Loyalists. It is not strange, then, that a Protestant Loyalist MP threatens to 'make Northern Ireland ungovernable' for the government on Monday and on Thursday, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland says that the main problem is one of defeating the IRA. It is merely a 're-affirmation' of the British link and the true enemy, the terrorist IRA.

3.4 The Restoration of Law and Order

'It would not be possible to maintain peace through the law without the tremendous work of the RUC and the UDR and the support of the majority of the people of Northern Ireland. It takes us all to do it. Democracy is the rejection of violence and we are never never going to be defeated by the bomb and the bullet here or anywhere else in the world' (M Thatcher, 1983, Christmas Eve). 18

This is an example of the 'priestly voice' of the official discourse. 19 That is, the text attempts a particular form of moral closure on itself. As Foucault reminds us, every discourse exerts a will to truth, makes a claim to validity through its particular truth regime. Official discourse as Claire Lerman's work on Watergate (1984) demonstrates has a particular claim in the morality stakes. One can suggest that a distinguishing feature of official discourse is that it tries very hard to constrain the possible meanings of the statements it produces. What is crucial in this statement of Thatcher's is how the moral claim is being constructed, what are its conditions of possibility.

Thematically the text is attempting to construct a law and order discourse where the forces of law and order, the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) and the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) keep the peace—a state implicitly opposed to the purported anarchy and disorder of terrorism. Importantly, the text not only develops a connection between peace, the RUC and UDR and its own enunciative position, but attempts to align its reader/audience with these others. Already then, at a purely thematic level the text attempts to 'bind in' its audience. It is crucial in this context to note that in a social democracy the state's task of preserving law and order is supported by the majority of the population. The state defines what constitutes law and order, equates this with the general desirability of democracy, unquestionably good and moral in this discourse, and further equates the movement towards this desirable goal with work of specific individuals, namely the UDR and the RUC. Further, the text attempts to equate these relations and goals with those of the reader. Clearly then, the text is reliant on a great deal of prior discursive work, a series of discourse implicits or intertextual relations (Lemke (1984), What Pecheux (1975) terms 'pre-constructed' as opposed to 'articulated' meanings). These intertextual relations are both general and specific, that is, general in the sense of connection with other texts concerning democracy, the will of the majority and so forth, but importantly, also specific, in the sense of connection to other texts on democracy, the will of the majority in Northern Ireland. Intertextual relations are also strong or weak (Lemke, 1984), that is, some intertexts are foregrounded (strong) others are not (weak). The 'support of the majority', for example, has at least two intertextual possibilities, only one of which is foregrounded by this text. They are firstly general intertexts of 'democracy' and the 'will of the people' and secondly the specific conditions of government in Northern Ireland. That which the official discourse does lay claim to via this particular text is of the 'will of the majority' as a precondition for democracy; in other words, tautologically, an unquestionably moral thing (the support of the majority) as a precondition for something also unquestionably moral (democracy), the morality of the latter is defined by the morality of the former. In the Northern Irish context, however, the will of the majority has a quite different intertextuality to the simple democratic truth claim. The majority in Northern Ireland refers to the Protestant ascendancy, the Protestant Loyalist population. The 'majority' is, in this intertextual linkage, a permanent two-thirds majority of Protestants over Catholics which the Northern Ireland state was created with and maintained by. In this context then,

'This is not a natural state (Northern Ireland) of any kind at all. It is an artificial product created to destroy political rights and to maintain one group of people in permanent power. By its very essence it denies every principle of democracy and always has from the time this House of Commons created it' (R Crossman, Cabinet Minister, September 1971, cited TOM, undated: 8).

The thematic and interactional systems (Lemke, 1984) of this text, that is, the moral economy of the 'priestly voice' and the narrative progression and integration which constructs the ideology of this economy, have paved the way for a plea for unqualified support from everyone for the UDR and the RUC and thus the British state. The text then is providing a preferred reading which binds in its audience in a fight against violence. Violence is the opposite of the democratic process. Those who use violence, separated by this binding-in or inclusion/exclusion process, are those who use the 'bomb and the bullet'. The use of repetition 'never never' is, it should be noted, a clear indication of the rhetorical, productive nature of this text. The bluntness of the characterisation of the other of democracy, those who use the bomb and the bullet, is also noteworthy. The cliché is performing some crucial ideological work in this discourse. The 'bomb and the bullet' is the totality of those who do not enjoin with the security forces in Ireland to work for peace. When the relation between the Catholic Republican population and the security forces is borne in mind, the implications of this are clear enough. The colonialist resonances of this discourse are hinted at in the concluding phrase. The indomitable 'we' who will never never be defeated has become the Britain of empire days. A Britain whose qualities of leadership, rightness and goodness were not replicated anywhere else in the world, the Britain which Margaret Thatcher referred to when she was discussing the 'defence issue ' in the general election of June 1987. M Thatcher,

'We are one of the pillars of world democracy. One of the bastions of freedom in the free world ... When you are talking about Britain, you are talking about a country that has withstood invaders for 900 years' (M Thatcher, BBC1, 9th June 1987).

Given that the British state defines the problem of Northern Ireland as being one of terrorism, a crucial aspect of its functioning as an official discourse must be to 'bind' the community to itself and further to disarticulate the IRA (as the 'principle' terrorists) from any possible community base. That is, an examination of official discourse must be crucially concerned with what has earlier been referred to as the process of division and rejection. This then, underlines the importance of what one might refer to as the politics of naming.

A poster issued by the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) shortly after the bombing of the La Mon restaurant on the night of 17th February 1978 illustrates the importance of connecting criminality and terrorism (see Figures 3.4 and 3.5). The colonialist coda present in the Thatcher text above is missing, but the RUC poster shares much in common with the rest of Thatcher's Christmas Eve speech. It attempts to bind in its audience within an official discourse which identifies the IRA as both criminal and pathological. The RUC, and the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) are, along with the British army, the ground operatives of the rule of 'law and order' in Northern Ireland. Further the RUC and the UDR are almost totally Protestant, 20 a point to bear in mind given the British government's policy of Ulsterisation. Ulsterisation refers to the policy of using the RUC and UDR rather than the British army, wherever possible. This policy is, of course, crucially related to the 'criminalisation' policy, the denial of any 'political' dimension to IRA activity. Here the RUC are particularly significant. They must be portrayed within the official discourse not as a sectarian, military arm of state repression but as precisely a police force whose task is the apprehension of criminals whose crimes are against all sectors of the community in Northern Ireland. In this context then, the IRA become murderers, further murderers whose crimes have a perniciousness and violence that sickens and revolts decent ordinary people. The text of the La Mon poster clearly illustrates this official discourse.

The poster is obviously intended to shock people, to persuade them to use the confidential telephone 21 listed on the reverse side of the poster. The reproduction of a photograph on the front side of the poster is of a horribly charred body, almost unrecognisable as that of a human being. The body is so horribly mutilated that the text 'needs' to tell us that this was

Figure 3.4
Figure 3.5

a human being before the 'bombers' murdered it. It is, in fact, the body of a woman. The linkage of such a picture with the actions of 'bombers' (the IRA) and with those outside the official discourse creates a very powerful preferred reading. It suggests, very forcibly, a set of subject positioning, which make it virtually impossible to react in any other way than in sympathy with the official discourse which is attempting to prevent such happenings—given that the aim of the poster is to get people to use the confidential telephone this is hardly surprising. The text works quite hard, however, to produce this particular preferred structure of reading and interpellative positioning. The re petition of the word 'murder' when used in conjunction with the picture of the body, not only hammers home the fact that bombers (therefore the IRA) are murderers but seems at the same time to prove the point. The interactional system of the text is mobilised such that the picture of the body and the ten times repeated word murder, in big block letters, become evidence of the truth of each other, such is the function of redundancy in texts. The use of type-size and colour all point the text inwards to the visual truth of the bomber equals murderer equation. In this text then, one is presented with far more than a simple 'anchorage' (Barthes, 1977) of a visual text by a verbal one. The visual and the verbal are interwoven interactionally, via the concept of murder, and thematically, via the product of the actions of bombers. The use of the term murder importantly also, criminalises the action of bombing, and thus helps remove the possibility of locating bombers (the IRA) within particular communities. The poster in this sense then might be seen as an example of the heteroglossing practice of the official discourse. 22 The verbal text on the reverse side of the La Mon poster develops the work of the text more specifically. It provides the details behind the horrific picture of murder. 'HELP US TO STOP THE SLAUGHTER NOW' and CONFIDENTIAL TELEPHONE BELFAST 652155'are in large red block letters. The paradigmatic choice of typescript and colour of the information on the reverse side of the poster reinforces the urgency and horror on the front side. It uses language which also reinforces the picture, the SLAUGHTER of people 'INCLUDING' CHILDREN was HORRIFYING, INDISCRIMINATE, MASS MURDER. It was the SLAUGHTER 'AND' MUTILATION OF MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN. Such an indiscriminate mass murder makes no distinction between men and women and even children; the killing of children in particular being recognisably pathological and evil. The taboos on such killings are very very strong. This poster then points out that this event is a ' crime against the COMMUNITY', that is, against everyone reading the poster. The RUC, and the discourse of the state, are thus attempted to be identified with the people, the terrorists are criminalised, and the two have been related intra-discursively. This strenuous attempt at the binding-in or incorporation of the community at large, a community therefore homogeneous in 'all respects, as well as simply its abhorrence of crime, and particularly terrorist crime, is a prominent feature of the official discourse. What it foregrounds, of course, is the shared belief in law and order, equated as the absence of terrorist bombing and occurring in a world divided not by politics, religion, class, gender or anything, other than the law-abiding and the criminal. The community then, those who are neither the RUC nor the bombers (the IRA), are those whom the bombers try to attack, and those whom the police try to protect. Not only does this structure suggest the RUC to be unquestionably good and therefore joined to the community, but it suggests that bombers to be irredeemably, pathologically bad. 'The Terror and the Tears: The Facts About IRA Brutality and the Sufferings of Victims' printed for the Northern Ireland government, develops in more detail who the bombers are and what the community is. The text and pictures in the pamphlet concretely develop the theme of the 'murder of the innocent', through an elaboration of the 'murder of innocence'. The front cover shows baby Angela, 17 months old and baby Colin, 7 months old. One Catholic and one Protestant who were victims of 'indiscriminate terrorism' 23 (see Figure 3.6). The innocence of Protestant and Catholic, that is, all babies is transformed on pages four and five of the pamphlet to the innocence of Protestant and Catholic, therefore, all women. By page six the pamphlet has transferred this innocence to the British army (see Figure 3.7). The innocence of the soldiers emphasised by their youth and the fact that they were brothers and friends. After developing this connection all other members of the security forces, the RUC and the UDR, are included, as is the destruction of property as targets of the malevolence of the IRA. The pamphlet then moves through a wide range of community, emphasising the deviancy of the IRA. It does this in such a fashion as to interactionally connect the innocence of babies with the innocence of the security forces and the community in general. The final page of the pamphlet emphasises the inclusiveness of those bound to the official discourse, and therefore against the IRA, by mentioning 'five women cleaners, Roman Catholic padre and a gardener (see Figure 3.8). 24 A final point is worth noting, in the light of the sectarian composition of the RUC. The padre is named specifically as a padre, but importantly a Roman Catholic padre. Figure 6 At several points in this pamphlet then, it is clear that Roman Catholic is a 'marked' term. 25 Protestants are not named as such, Roman Catholics are. This amongst other things, further identifies the pathology of the IRA, they are killing their own kind—although the official discourse cannot name them as such, for fear of creating a possible community/IRA relation, that which it is precisely striving to avoid. Perhaps more than any other, the H-block issue demonstrates the British state's discursive strategy for dealing with what Trew (1979 ) calls 'awkward facts'. One of the difficulties in not

Figure 3.6
Figure 3.7
Figure 3.8

conceding 'political status' despite the undeniably special circumstances in Northern Ireland's prisons is, for the state, to make a distinction between 'terrorist criminals' and 'other criminals'. It has led to the use of criminal to refer to 'terrorist' prisoners and Honest Average Criminals (HAC) or Ordinary Decent Criminals (ODC) to refer to others. Thus we have 'Honest' Average Criminals or Ordinary 'Decent' criminals—rather a semantic incongruity in anyone's mind. The point is, of course, that although a HAC or ODC could be a child molesting, mass murdering rapist or robber (and the IRA as therefore worse than these) the Honest and Decent label is not incongruous because outside of the terrorist discourse of Northern Ireland, such categories have no meaning. Such 'inconsistencies' do, however, provide ample scope for polemical 'reverse' strategy propaganda—During a recent search for an explosives cache in London's lock up garages a senior police chief did a similar 'semantic loop-the-loop' on a nation-wide TV interview. When asked if the 'co-operation of the public' might be impeded because petty criminals might not want the police to see what was in their garages, he stated:

'Well ... we've put the message out that we're looking for EXPLOSIVES, but you can't tell a policeman to ignore BLATANT CRIME, and I EMPHASISE the word BLATANT' (BBC Radio 4, 17th November 1981).

The fact that such 'slip-ups' are 'unavoidable' should perhaps remind us of the 'constructed' nature of discursive reality, the pervasiveness and penetration of the discourse of the state concerning terrorism and the fact that power, of necessity, creates the possibility of resistance. Obviously when one of the blanket-men on hunger strike was elected on an H-Block ticket to the Westminster parliament to represent the Fermanagh South Tyrone constituency of Northern Ireland the 'coherence' of the state strategy could have been seriously threatened. The problem was that:

'Years of myth making go out of the window with the election of Bobby Sands as MP for Fermanagh, South Tyrone. And the biggest myth is that the IRA, in its violent phase, represents only a tiny minority of the population ... If Sands should die after such a vote of confidence how can the electoral system be said to reflect the views of the people? ... If he is reprieved by an act of state (an act which would be contrary to the findings of the European Commission on Human Rights which does not believe the IRA should have political status) the prospect of a Loyalist backlash has to be reckoned with' (Guardian, Leader Comment, 11th May 1981).

The social democratic state had a very large problem. How could people, the 'majority', have elected a criminal? Mary Holland puts the problem more sharply into view:

'No leading British political figure has been prepared to assert 'unequivocally' that Bobby Sands' victory at the ballot box was a matter that ought to be taken seriously or which materially changed the strength of his case. This, after all, is what the Provisionals have always argued and what many people in Northern Ireland have long suspected. British democracy works only as long as the ballot box yields results acceptable to the British' (Mary Holland, 8th June 1981).

The Hunger Strike was very much an international affair.

'Anticipating bloodshed and mayhem, journalists began flooding into Belfast early in May in the biggest build-up of world press Northern Ireland has ever seen. No fewer than 23 nations sent television crews, including Japan, Greece, Turkey, Mexico, Peru, Portugal, Sweden and Australia. The American TV networks, ABC, CBS and NBC, imported a major task force of 16 camera crews and sent them quartering the province in search of battle pictures. More than 400 journalists jostled each other and convened daily (or more frequently) to compare rumours in ... the Europa hotel, ... the world's most bombed hotel ... and thus being dubbed the Bomblast Arms' (Hickey, 'TV Guide', 26th September—2nd October 1981).

For a time at least, this international coverage of events in Northern Ireland created serious problems for the British government. Several different international opinions were voiced, as a survey reported in the 'Sunday Times' of 31st May 1987 showed. 26

'Le Monde, France's most respected daily newspaper, last week gave its considered views on Ulster. The problem is deadlocked. The British government is showing a serious lack of imagination by not seeing Ulster in any terms other than a policing operation and maintaining law and order ... the signs are that ... Le Monde ... reflects not only French opinion, but that of most countries in Western Europe ... world opinion has begun to shift away from the British government and in favour of the IRA. The image of the gunmen has improved' ('Sunday Times', 31st May 1987).

Thirty six of the Sunday Times' survey of the sixty four newspapers suggested Britain should withdraw from Ulster immediately or enter into talks with Dublin and others over reunification. Only five said that Britain should remain to keep the peace.

'Our chief European correspondent, Keith Richardson, reported from Brussels: 'general European impression ranges from pig-headed Thatcher obstinacy, through scandalous misgovernment, to outright genocide. In other words, it could not be worse' ('Sunday Times', 31st May 1987).

The United States of America, and particularly its Irish American population, were able to construct a scenario where,

'Northern Catholics are the downtrodden underdogs struggling to free themselves from the same oppressors whom Americans vanquished so satisfyingly in 1781' (Hickey, 'TV Guide', 26th September—2nd October 1981: 26).

All of these perspectives added up at the very least to the IRA pulling off a brilliant propaganda coup,

'aided and abetted by the Prime Minister who doesn't seem to know the difference between 'no' and 'get lost" ('Sunday Times', 31st May 1981).

By the time the hungerstrike had ended, ten strikers had died. 27 Bobby Sands MP had polled 31,492 votes in the Fermanagh South Tyrone by-election and on his death, his election agent Owen Carron was elected with an even larger majority, polling 31,278 votes. 28 How then, were these problems overcome by the British state? The fact is, that for some time they weren't. PIRA funds and recruitment were helped enormously, there was severe rioting in Northern Ireland, particularly after the death of each hunger-striker and a state of extreme tension existed throughout the Province for virtually the whole of 1981. The British state being forced to 'manage' this situation through the deployment of more troops, the increased use of the Special Air Service and so forth. Although one could not deny that there was a 'local' crisis of hegemony (Mercer, 1978 36) in Northern Ireland throughout the hungerstrike and particularly the election and subsequent death of Bobby Sands MP, one could not say in any real sense that this was a 'general' crisis of legitimacy for the British state, certainly little more than usual for its relations in and with Northern Ireland. It is precisely the point that, in Britain at least, years of myth-making did NOT go out the window. Given the state' s discourse on Northern Ireland then, the events of the hungerstrike and even the election were explained and explainable. The parameters of the international terrorist discourse severely curtail any action even the US Irish Americans could/would take. When put in the 'Marxist/Terrorist' framework, the counter-insurgency discourse of international terrorism, the 'colonial/independence' discourse became subsidiary. It is the British state's successful linkage here that gives it the victory. This linkage, of course, has many other ties, all reinforced in different ways. Thus K Best MP was able to say,

'... The hunger strike having fallen through 'of its own accord' ...' (BBC Radio 4, 26th October 1981).

as if it was perfectly natural and right, and only to be expected that it should. The 'Daily Express' was able to go much further after explaining precisely the kind of ideological context in which to see politics and the state in Britain. In an article about the emerging Social Democrats the Daily Express stated:

'... There is a deep longing in the country for a 'nice' party which will offer to make all things bright and beautiful in in the good old British moderate way' ('Daily Express', 6th October 1981).

The paper then proposed to talk of Northern Ireland and the end of the hunger strike.

JIM PRIOR AND THE MAZE

Mrs Thatcher was right to welcome the end of the H-Block hunger strike by expressing relief that more lives would not be lost either in the prison or outside as a result. Jim Prior is expected soon to announce what concessions will be made to the IRA prisoners now that the strike is over. He can and should offer some. 'Having endured the strike' and all the world-wide odium that ensued, 'the British Government has made its point'. But as 'Churchill said: 'In victory: magnanimity'. In other words, if some minor concessions on prison conditions can be made 'for the sake of goodwill'; now is the time to make them. So long as they do not involve political prisoner status. For that would be to concede everything. The task of reconciliation is hard; it may be impossible. But it is our duty to proceed as best we can along the road' (Leader Column, 'Daily Express', 6th October 1981).

The paper then, declares 'victory' for the British government (Margaret Thatcher and Jim Prior) over 'world-wide odium', and 'having 'endured' the hunger strike they (it) should now be 'magnanimous'. The odium is over, 'concessions' should now be given, for the sake of goodwill. The 'blitz' spirit of endurance of both the hunger strike and the odium is conjured up by the claiming of Churchillian spirit. The final paragraph sums up the difficult task of the British government—reconciliation where Ireland has a problem for every solution. In this scenario then, the only action for the government is one of blameless, generous 'magnanimity'. This theme was developed by other British newspapers of the post hunger strike period. One can note also examples of the way in which the state absolves itself of responsibility and places onus on the individual,

'The dramatic election of the jailed IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands to the House of Commons has dealt a serious blow to the government's security in Northern Ireland. His electoral triumph yesterday threatens to undercut the criminalisation policy—which has been central to Direct Rule for several years—as well as deepening the sectarian schism in the province ('Guardian', 11th April 1981).

The election of Sands then, was dramatic, that is, extraordinary. The jailed, therefore criminal, Bobby Sands, importantly not an MP , is to blame for the threat to the 'security' of Northern Ireland, and, therefore, everyone there. His electoral triumph threatens to undercut the criminalisation policy. Without his 'electoral triumph' there would have been no deepening of the sectarian schism. It is Bobby Sands then who is 'deepening the Sectarian schism', no responsibility attaches to the British state.

3.5 The Terrorist Other

At this moment it is necessary to examine in more detail the characterisation of the PIRA within the official discourse. Such a characterisation will also reveal much about the view of the Catholic Republican community in general within the discourse of the British state. Often, as has been suggested above, Catholics, Republicans, and the PIRA are indistinguishable within this position.

'The earliest serious confrontation, in October 1969, was between the Army and the Protestant elements on Belfast's Shankill Road ... affronted by the Northern Ireland Government's acceptance of the changes in police organisation recommended by the Hunt Committee, 'but as time elapsed' the Provisional wing of the Irish Republican Army (consisting broadly of the more traditionally militant elements of that organisation after a split in its leadership) emerged in 1970 as a most serious threat to security and public order. Because it was in the Catholic areas of Belfast that the main brunt of the destruction of August 1969 had been borne, the local IRA elements were 'ABLE'—as they had not been between 1957—1962—'TO PROJECT THEMSELVES AS' the defenders of the wider Catholic Community, and 'thus to win' substantial numbers of recruits and a considerable degree of mass support' (HMSO, 1972: 9—my emphasis).

The first confrontation of the British army with the people of Northern Ireland was with the Protestant, NOT the Catholic working class—soon, however, the PIRA became involved. 'But as time elapsed' in this text could be replaced by 'as one would expect' or 'but inevitably'. The involvement of the PIRA is given a voluntarism and is naturalised into an almost causal sequence. As time passed, the PIRA became involved; the passage of time becomes the reason why they became involved. In the space of less than a year, October 1969 to 1970, the Provisional Irish Republican Army emerged—grew with the passage of time—'as the most serious threat to security AND public order'. Two things, at least, should be noted here. The first is a distinction made between PIRA and other less traditionally militant members of the IRA. The split referred to is that between the Official IRA, the 'Stickies' and the Provisional IRA, the 'Provos'. This split arose from the very conditions quoted in the official discourse. The 'Officials' elected to pursue a more straight forwardly party-political strategy, an aim which has certainly been borne out over the last ten years, whilst the 'Provos' recognised a need for a military role, to protect Catholic areas from the 'brunt of destruction'. The final sentence of the above discourse explicitly locates the 'natural' emergence of PIRA by linking precisely the same facts which PIRA cite for their own emergence. Without the destruction of Catholic areas PIRA would not be able to recruit 'substantial' support. The use of were ABLE to PROJECT THEMSELVES in this sentence casts doubt on the possibility that PIRA emerged precisely to defend the Catholic population which was bearing the brunt of the troubles, that is, being attacked by the RUC and the Ulster Special Constabulary'. 29 Further, however, that even if this was the case, without the community defence role, the PIRA has absolutely no legitimate function. Politics has once more been denied for criminality. The PIRA then, must have been 'able to project themselves', that is, convince, or terrorize, foolish, gullible or frightened people of their 'community defence' role. Here one has a fairly common explanation of events in Northern Ireland, similar to the many explanations of working class Ulster Loyalism revolving around a theory of a 'duped reactionary mass'. 30 The Protestant community are not blameless within the official discourse. They did attack British troops on the Shankill in 1969. The situation under the 'Orange State' did need reform. Civil Rights were given a legitimate hearing, even this, however, was grudging:

IF' once there were sectarian bias in the RUC, there is not now ... The first Catholic to become Chief Constabl e Mr Flanagan (now Sir James Flanagan—succeeded by Sir Kenneth Newman, 1976) has risen ... from the rank of constable and has served in every rank of the force. The first Catholic Chief Constable has shown himself able, courageous and impartial' (J Biggs-Davidson, MP, 5th December 1974—my emphasis).

This text makes it clear that Northern Ireland, 'if' it ever did need reforming, does not now. The concreteness and finality of 'there is 'not' now' should be noted. The official discourse has individualised a structural problem by pointing to the 'success' of James Flanagan. This is a fairly common process within the state's discourse. It is often apparent in arguments concerning the equality of opportunity amongst different social classes. If one example can be shown of a working class person who has 'made it to the top' the system is 'proved' to be equal and free. In the light of the economic example it is perhaps instructive to remember that as a policeman, particularly a senior policeman, James Flanagan has chosen to support the British state. That is, in his case 'Catholicism' refers merely to his religious affiliation and his beliefs in transubstantiation. In the same way as the manager of a multi-national conglomerate could not conceivably be described as 'working class' regardless of his class origin, James Flanagan could not be described as a Catholic in the sense in which the word is used in Northern Ireland. The religious labels in Northern Ireland are much more than identifiers of religious groupings. They refer also to political divisions and ethnic allegiance. 31 James Flanagan could not, as a senior police chief, identify with anything but the official discourse. In this respect his 'religion' is irrelevant except, importantly, that his existence proves the system to be free. When the official discourse does not identify 'sectarian bias' as the problem, what then is the problem? It is, of course, PIRA and their:

'criminal and sometimes highly profitable activities ...' '... the godfathers of the Ulster Mafias, managers of murder, millionaires of extortion, the manipulators of co-operatives and other enterprises in Anderstown and elsewhere, the tycoons of thuggery' (J Biggs-Davidson, MP, 1st April 1976).

These categories are all criminal as opposed to political and are indiscriminately applied variously to the 'terrorist minority', the rotten apples, or the whole Catholic community, who are 'seduced', 'terrorised', or the 'breeding ground' for the IRA. The PIRA who are the kind of people who bomb innocent babies and children, who leave bombs in crowded shopping centres are not only psychopathic and irrational but also calculating and criminal. They are guilty on two counts. In discussing a recently exploded 'lavatory
bomb' 32 in Oxford Street, London, a Member of Parliament stated:

'This (the bombing) is precisely the sort of thing that people (the British people) will not succumb to ... even the most perverted mind (the PIRA) must realise this' (K Best MP, 26th October 1981).

The horror of the IRA bombing is highlighted in this text. They (the IRA) think of bombing people which is perverted, they bomb people which is perverted, but to do all this KNOWING that their enemy will never succumb, this is perversion beyond imagination. Foucault's comments on the process of censorship are interesting in the context of statements such as this, the same three stage process is at work, denying the legitimacy of IRA (logic, campaigns) preventing them, denying even the possibility of anyone being 'so perverted'. Thus:

'affirming that such a thing is not permitted, preventing it from being said, denying that it exists ... It links the inexistent, the illicit, and the inexpressible in such a way that each is at the same time the principle and the effect of the others: one must not talk about what is forbidden until it is annulled in reality; what is inexistent has no right to show itself, even in the order of speech where its inexistence is declared; and that which one must keep silent about is banished from reality as the thing that is tabooed above all else ... an injunction of non-existence, nonmanifestation, and silence' (Foucault, 1976: 84).

From such a strategy then, it is logical to conclude that:

'The more constructive political approaches there are in Northern Ireland, then the more likely there is to be a crescendo of bombs and bullets. There is nothing the terrorists 'detest' more than a coming together of the law abiding. ... we must expect, I fear terrorism to sink to the lowest depths of indiscriminate atrocity' (J Biggs-Davidson, MP, 4th November 1975).

The oppositions 'terrorist' and 'law abiding' and the use of words like 'detest', 'indiscriminate atrocity', all combine to reinforce this 'double-pervert' image. The parameters of this discussion are made quite explicit.

'Signs have been reported of a re-grouping of international terrorist cells. A new campaign against targets in Western Europe as well as the Middle East is on the cards. The mafia of murder is inspired by various destructive ideologies. It is united in it s 'fanatical hatred of Christian values and non-Marxist society'. It ranges from Belfast to Beirut and beyond ... ... The British Isles are a major target of enemies of the West' (J Biggs-Davidson, MP, 30th April 1978).

As is what would happen if the British Army withdrew:

'They would be on the road to the imposition of a Marxist-type all Ireland Republic on our Western Approaches' (J Biggs-Dav idson MP, 4th December 1975).

Or to quote Ted Heath MP. on a visit to the United States:

'If we withdrew, there would be a Cuba on the fringe of Europe (T Heath, 1975).

3.6 Summary: The British State and Counter-Insurgency

Counter-Insurgency theory is central to the official discourse of the British state on Northern Ireland. Propaganda is central to counter-insurgency strategy. Both the concept of propaganda an d the ideological features of counter-insurgency writings have crucial implications for the discursive formation of Northern Ireland emanating from the place of the British state. Counter-insurgency theorists' obsession with terrorist pathology and tactics is at t he expense of considering the causes of terrorist action. Propaganda in counter-insurgency theory is largely understood as a m atter of 'winning hearts and minds' (WHAM).

'There is no suggestion that the guerrilla is part of his (sic) community or that his causes can be intellectually grasped and rationally embraced by that community. The matter is simply one of propaganda and coercion' (Burton, 1978: 119).

For counter-insurgency theory and thus the British state's official discourse the IRA remains a pathological conumdrum. Contemporary counter-insurgency thinking is importantly connected to the phenomena of 'international terrorism', a development one might see as a feature of post-1968 politics. In both counter-insurgency writing and commentaries on international terrorism the category 'terrorist' is key. Also in both, the problem of order is ultimately tied up with world communism in one or other of its 'hydra- headed manifestations' (Schlesinger, 1978: 102). As Schlesinger states, the logic of contemporary counter-insurgency writing is significantly influenced by the history of the Cold War and whether crude or sophisticated such perspectives are always limited by the conditions of possibility of such a perspective. The work of Edward Said in particular begins (in 'Orientalism' especially , but also 'The Covering of Islam') to deconstruct the East/West binary logic which conditions such a perspective. Much work remains to be done, however, to record the elliptical traces of the slippage necessary in such a binary logic which constantly reproduces the series; West, freedom, democracy, America, vs East, totalitarianism, terrorism, Russia. The ideological value of this series is, of course, that the terms are in a constantly shifting relation to each other. The slippage from one to the other (on the same side of the binary) is never immediately fixable. Thus it is possible from the sequence that America is the opposite of totalitarianism, but this is only possible because Russia, opposite to America, is opposite to freedom. In this discourse then both Biggs-Davidson and Heath, quoted above, are making 'natural' connections between the IRA and the enemies of the West. The connection between counter-insurgency thinking and a communist conspiracy theory of global politics is made clear in Schlesinger's (1978: 79) comments on the post-war French doctrine of La Guerre Revolutionnaire and also in relation to his comments on the British involvement in Northern Ireland. Before discussing his comments on the latter, it is important to note another feature of the counter-insurgency perspective, its intrication with the history of colonial power. Schlesinger argues that although there is a sense in which counter-insurgency thought may be seen as being as old as the need for repression itself, it is crucially 'very much the product of Western colonial and imperial expansion and the consequent relations of dominance imposed on the Third World'.33 Counter-insurgency thinking then, relates to both the domestic and foreign policy of the State. Eqbal Ahmad notes one important feature of this counter-insurgency thinking,

'It serves to conceal the reality of a foreign policy dedicated to containing revolutions abroad and helps to relegate revolutionaries to the status of outlaws. The reduction of a revolution to mere insurgency also constitutes a priori denial of its legitimacy' (Ahmad, cited Littlejohn, 1978, p 99).

Early principles of counter-insurgency theory were codified by the British in India during the 19th century. These were developed further during the Boer War, and subsequently by the British in Kenya, Aden and Cyprus. The importance of the contemporary situation in Ireland cannot be underestimated. Dutch, French and American theorists have added significantly to this body of theory. The important thing about this newly developed knowledge was that it was, as Schlesinger argues, 'political' not 'military', more
precisely it was about the interaction between (and supporting of) military power by psychological, sociological, political and cultural knowledges. In this sense then it is a fairly stark surface of the emergence of a power-knowledge nexus described by Foucault in his archaeology of the human sciences during the 19th and 20th centuries. For the British 'pacification' (an important discursive usage itself) in India was an attempt at the permanent consolidation of the structure of the British colonial power. As Schlesinger (1978: 100) further notes counter-insurgency theory differed from social science, particularly anthropology, per se, in that it was consciously aimed to provide the state and its military forces with literally a map of the social which would enable the more ready surveillance and disciplining of populations. One can note, as Talal Asad has done that anthropology is,

'rooted in an unequal power encounter between the West and the Third World which goes back to the emergence of bourgeois Europe, an encounter in which colonialism is but one historical movement. It is this encounter that gives the West access to cultural and historical information about the societies it has progressively dominated' (Asad, 1973: 16).

Anthropology certainly was used directly by colonial powers. The pre-historian Louis Leakey was one of a number of social scientists involved in research on the Mau-Mau in Kenya. Leakey's express goal was to defeat the Mau-Mau. His interest was to investigate the Mau Mau oath of allegiance in order to devise ways, in accordance with Kikuyu ritual, to break the hold of the oath. Subsequently, Schlesinger notes, several social scientists from the East African Institute for Social Research were hired to investigate ways of changing the system of land tenure in Kenya. The political goal being to create a stable middle peasantry unwilling to support the Mau Mau because they had something to lose (Buijtenhuijs, 1972 cited in Littlejohn, 1978). As Schlesinger notes such efforts were 'small beer' in relation to enterprises undertaken by the military-industrial complex of the United States. He mentions for example Project Camelot devised by the US Defence Departments Special Operations Research Office and later initiatives from the Centre for Research in Social Systems. This latter organisation undertaking research in the fields of 0

'population control, the psychological mechanisms of allegiance to guerrilla groups, research into attitude changes, the creation and fostering of elites sympathetic to capitalist forms of ownership' (Schlesinger, 1978: 102).

As Asad (1973), Kuper (1975) and Schlesinger (1978) all point out it would be wrong to regard anthropology as simply a tactical arm of colonial power. There are certainly occasions when anthropological research was designed to be thus, as the work on the Mau Mau shows. There is no doubt also that in the main, anthropology did not study settlers and administrators in colonial situations.
Schlesinger sums the matter up thus,

'Until the nationalist revolutions after the Second World War, it was possible for anthropologists to assume uncritically the legitimacy and stability of the imperialist social order which underpinned their object of study (1978: 100).

Anthropology specifically and social science generally then, is implicated directly and indirectly in the maintenance and preservati on of not only colonial power, but as Leggett (1973: 322) remarks in domestic power relations. The section of the thesis on critical ethnography addressed the indirect implications of social science in a particular kind of power/knowledge formation more fully. Here is the place to examine a more direct form of state bias in social science, that is, the specific character of counter-insurgency
theory. Schlesinger's article examines two specific cases of such theory, the French doctrine of La Guerre Revolutionnaire and the contemporary British thinking, importantly, but not solely, the experience of Northern Ireland. Schlesinger following Ambler (1966) notes four characteristics of the French doctrine. Firstly, since the Cold War a nuclear stalemate exists between East and West such that the next war will be a subversive, revolutionary war, rather than a large scale nuclear war. Secondly, that this war of subversion (which has already begun) is not most importantly about killing an enemy army, but about the capture of the hearts and minds of civilian populations. Thirdly, this war of subversion is being conducted by international communism, and may be characterised as permanent and universal. Fourthly, to defend itself, the West must fight fire with fire, in other words develop and expand its propagandising and surveillance mechanisms. To these four characteristics Schlcsinger adds several points. Firstly, he notes the monolithic characterisation of the communist threat. Secondly, he notes the obsession with methods and techniques which characterise such research. Even a cursory glance at the work of the British theorists such as Kitson (1971), Eveleigh (1978) and Clutterbuck (1973) would reveal not only this obsession with techniques, but also the strong influence of mass society theory, 'bullet' theories of communication, empiricist and psychologistic methodologies. Finally Schlesinger notes the perception of struggles and national liberation within La Guerre Revolutionnaire. National liberation struggles are not seen as generated by factors internal to imperialist domination, but rather as the products of manipulation. Here again the influence of long discredited theories of a 'duped mass' fooled by a conspiratorial bunch of rotten apples is apparent. This thesis reaches even greater heights of theoretical paucity in supposedly more 'sophisticated' accounts of this rotten apple thesis. Schlesinger continues,

'A more sophisticated variant of this thesis acknowledges that nationalists are not necessarily 'conscious' communists, or alternatively, that they are not aware of subterranean communist manipulation' (1978: 104—emphasis in original).

This double-bind structure of argument, along with its conspiratorial overtones is as important in explanations of 'domestic' unrest , as reportage of both Northern Ireland and the inner-city riots in Britain during the early 1980s makes clear. What Schlesinger, Ambler et al are beginning to describe then is a particular feature of the official discourse of the state concerning threats to its legitimacy.

In his discussion of contemporary British counter-insurgency thought, Schlesinger makes it clear that in such orientations the 'problem of order' is addressed from the standpoint of the power-holders. Such approaches tend to take the legitimacy of the state, the current order, for granted and as such concern themselves with the maintenance and reproduction of the existing social order. The British counter-insurgency writers such as Kitson, Clutterbuck and Wilkinson all subscribe to much of La Guerre Revolutionnaire, certainly to the 'reds under the beds' paranoia of communist subversion. 34 Mr Brian Crozier, director of the notorious Institute for the Study of Conflict, for example, depicts Euro-Communism as a 'more sophisticated approach to the problems of revolution'
and the 'outcome of deep reflection in Moscow upon the extraordinary events of 1968'; as such it is part of 'the process of ripening the West for take-over' (Crozier, 1974: 114-15). In the opening chapter of 'Low Intensity Operations' Kitson describes, like La Guerre Revolution-naire, wars of national liberation as forms of subversion advancing communist interests (Kitson, 1971: 19 ). Also like La Guerre Revolutionnaire, British counter-insurgency operates significantly through conspiracy theories and psychologistic mass society theories of communication.

'The crude version holds that the Russians/Chinese/Cubans are simply manipulators of unwary dupes. The other, more sophisticated variant is that while there may be genuine nationalist insurgencies, these are always prone to perversion by the local branch of the Kremlin' (Clutterbuck, 1973: 146).

Thompson inclines to the crude school and provides us with a typology of those involved in insurgencies. There is no genuine basis for revolutionary war, he argues, as is clear from the social composition of the insurgent movement. The 'naturals' (communists deep down) swell their ranks by drawing in the 'converted' and things really get off the ground when the deceived (the congenitally simple) provide a mass following (Thompson, 1972: 35-36). Kitson operates with a similar motivational model, considering that the 'hard core' mobilise the politically conscious idealists for protest and when confrontations with security forces occur, the hard core capitalise to establish mass sympathy (Kitson, 1971: 84-85). The scenario thus for them is, like all mass society approaches, one of a threat to order. A small number of evil people may/will corrupt a larger number of stupid people. Containment, isolation, nipping subversion in the bud are key concepts in Kitson's scheme of things. Control of what Kitson borrowing from Mao calls 'the water in which the fish swims', that is, the population which conceals the terrorist, is all. It may even 'be necessary to kill the fish by polluting the water'. Kitson's earlier definition of subversion is revealing,

all' measures short of the use of armed force taken by one section of the people of a country to overthrow thos e governing the country at the time, or to force them to do things which they do not want to do' (Kitson, 1971: 3—my emphasis).

It is in this sense then, that subsequent comments on Bogside/Creggan community in this thesis describe everyday life as subversion.

The law and the media are crucial to counter-insurgency theorists' discussions, as Schlesinger notes,

'Van Doorn has noted how modern armies engaged in counter-revolution—and by extension those supporting them ideologically - 'fall back on the legal form of legitimacy by denying the legality of their opponents and emphasising the need to maintain law and order. Referring to their opponents as 'subversive elements', 'terrorists', 'extremists', and 'bandits' is part of this general trend' (1975, p103).

Such characterisations will be more than familiar to those who have followed the evolution of the current conflict in Northern Ireland. 'It is more important to recognise that such concepts are ideological constructs. In everyday and mass media discourses they tend to be handled without a critical awareness of the ways in which they pre-manufacture a version of reality favouring those in power'. Harries-Jenkins has argued that in liberal-democratic regimes the use of armed force in the maintenance of law and order provokes a crisis of legitimacy for the military and the state more generally (1976, pp 48-51). This means that the management of information and the organisation of propaganda become crucial weapons in the struggle to justify military intervention and to gain public support. It is not surprising, therefore, that all counter-insurgency theorists have something to say, if only in passing, about the role of the media, and it is generally to their detriment. Burton (1975, p 9), for instance, notes their importance and considers that to publicise 'urban terrorism' is to risk an imitation effect. In fact, most of the writers considered seem to be paid-up subscribers to the long-discredited stimulus-response theory of media 'effects': namely, that the content of a communication is injected into a passive recipient who has no choice about how to interpret what he (sic) is told. With this background it is easy to understand current anxieties in the British state about the effectiveness of the security forces' propaganda war in Northern Ireland. While counter-insurgency theorists seem generally to argue that uncensored media work against the interests of the state, recent research in Britain would tend to deny this view. It has been shown, for example, that the British army has had a positive portrayal in the media and that the state has been successful in systematically discrediting the Provisional IRA (Elliott, 1976). It has also been argued that, contrary to the myths, the British state has exercised considerable and generally successful indirect control over the BBC (Schlesinger, 1978). Chibnall (1977) has shown how in the past decade a number of themes have converged in British media coverage of 'law and order', particularly through a gradual conflation of the labels of 'criminal violence' and 'political violence'. These two media categories have in turn been subsumed under the broader media concept of 'the violent society'. Thus bank robberies, vandalism, anarchist and IRA bombings, and industrial conflict have all eventually come to be presented in terms of the same catch-all category of violence' (Schlesinger, 1978: 112-13).

Counter-insurgency theory then, produces not only 'bad' social theory and bad mass communications theory, it also produces ce rtain paradoxes and gaps in its explanation of events in Northern Ireland. As Burton comments, for example,

'There is passing reference that guerrillas are dependent upon community support, but much greater emphasis is laid on how shallow the water can be in which the fish swims' (Burton, 1978: 119).

Counter-insurgency accounts cannot explain the findings of, for example, Peter Taylor

'I met the IRA in the old gasworks they used as a headquarters, and interviewed the OC of the Derry Bogside ... I talked with the young men who hang around and realised to my surprise as an outsider, that—in those days at least—the IRA was as much a part of the community it lived in as the postman' (Taylor, 1980: 44).

No relationship between the IRA and its community can, in practice, be entertained by the counter-insurgency base of the official di scourse, except that of the wholly terrorised or terrorist community. Clutterbuck gives one account of the relationship between the IRA and its community,

'They know that the urban guerrilla is most vulnerable to betrayal by the public amongst whom he lives and fights, and this can be discouraged by fear and terror. That is why more civilians have been killed than soldiers and police, and why more of the civilians were Catholic than Protestant (though the time bomb does not discriminate) (Clutterbuck, 1973: 94, cited Burton, 1978: 119).

As Burton remarks,

'As a comment on both the toll of sectarian assassinations and the IRA's relationship with its community this is uninformed and speculative nonsense' (Burton, 1978: 119).

In a note on this point Burton states,

'The toll of civilian deaths includes: (a) several hundred shot by the British army, including dead IRA men, (b) several hundred assassinated by Protestant paramilitary forces as well as (c) those hundreds who have died by IRA activity Clutterbuck is intimating that all three categories belong to IRA activity, an absurdity' (Burton, 1978: 119).

The final paradox of the official discourse's mobilisation of counter-insurgency perspectives and practices is summarised by Oppenhe imer thus,

'the establishment moves to implement 'radical' reforms which cut off the basis of support for the terrorist. Simultaneousl y the military moves against the guerrilla. The inconsistency is that in performing the latter task the military injure the innocent giving the terrorist more support and undermining the reform programme. In addition, the two-war strategy might spark off an ultra-right revolt by those threatened by the reforms—the parallels in Northern ireland are obvious' (Oppenheimer, 1970, cited Burton, 1978: 189).

Footnotes to Chapter 3

1 This contradiction has a crucial significance for counter-insurgency policing and is discussed at the end of this chapter.

2 Some of these controls on discourse; authorship, disciplines and the rarefaction of the speaking subject (notably expertise and the will to truth) have been discussed in earlier chapte rs in as far as they related to the construction of social science research reports, CF chapter 1.

3 The conjunction of normal English/British vs pathological, foreign, underline the crucial importance of the twin functioning of sectarianism and terrorist pathology in the official d iscourse. The pathology of terrorism is also then, the pathology of the foreign Irish.

4 I am reminded here of the poem

'This is the way, the heroes of today
Are challenging England's might
A bullet in the back, and a midnight attack
On a horse that can't even shite'

This 'cowardly' characteristic is often put forward as the reason why the IRA chose to attack 'soft' targets, retired UDR officers and so forth, it is suggested that attacking full-time British soldiers is too frightening. Many explanations put forward for bombing campaigns follows similar logic, one leaves a bomb and runs away. The general strategy of hit and run involved in guerrilla tactics is, of course, prey to the same accusation. This all, of course, serves to highlight the contrast with the security forces who are normal in every way. CF Curtis, 1984: 84-95 on the 'coffee pot girls' and 'dogs of war'. Also Schlesinger et al, 1983: 47- 50 on 'Rats' and ' Sefton, the wonder-horse'.

5 The possibility of a discussion of male/army—female/terrorist deserves much further and more detailed discussion. I hope to do precisely this in a review article of A F N Clarke (1983) 'Contact'.

6 See discussion in Chapter 5

7 Foucault's conception of power referred primarily to the manner in which one scenario limits what can be said.

8 Essentially the 'criminalisation policy' is the battle being fought in the prisons over the issue of 'political status'. The comments on Ulsterisation in the text below should be noted.

9 This is clearly demonstrated by the 'progression of innocence' discussed in 'The Terror and the Tears' below.

10 The title of Dobson and Payne's book (1982) on international terrorism is 'Terror: The West Fights Back'.

11 The bigoted nature of the Irish is often elevated to what almost amounts to a 'disease model' of terrorism. Conor Cruise O'Brien highlights both the sexist and racist dimensions of this, 'Irish Republicanism—especially the killing strain of it—has a very high propensity to run in families, and ... the mother is most often the carrier of it' (O'Brien, letter to Mary Holland about the refusal to publish an article of hers on Mary Nelis a Creggan resident—O'Brien's reply was published in 'Belfast Bulletin' no 9, Spring 1981: 8).

12 Phillip Adams is an Australian writer, journalist and film critic.

13 Peregrine Worsthorne is editor of the 'Sunday Telegraph'.

14 Northern Protestants in Ulster are not the only ones with this kind of explanation. The National Front in Britain, along with other right-wing nationalists, articulate this view qui te clearly. 'The British government is at war with the people of Ulster. Thatcher and the other traitors at Westminster hate and despise the Uls ter Loyalists. But the British Government does not represent the true British people! Thousands of English, Scottish and Welsh peopl e are showing solidarity with the Loyalist cause. In 'London', 39 people were arrested when National Front members attacke d a Sinn Fein march. In 'Glasgow' dozens of arrests were made when Scottish National Front members attacked an IRA march. In 'Birmingham', National Front members charged into the middle of a Republican march and pitched battle broke out. In «MD UL»Cardiff', scuffles broke out when IRA supporters and Blacks tried to smash up an anti-IRA march by English and Welsh NF memb ers. The National Front is taking Ulster's fight onto the streets of Britain! ('ULSTER's FIGHT IS BRITAIN'S FIGHT! Front Pamp hlet, London, undated: 1).

15 See Wilson (1982).

16 Homi Bhabha writes on the ambivalence of colonial discourse ('Politics and Sociology', 1986: 198-205). Bhabha discusses the phenomena of a 'flawed colonial mimesis', 'in which to be anglicized is emphatically not to be English'.

17 Ian Paisley is head and founder of the Free Presbyterian Church and leader of the Democratic Unionist Party. The Democratic Unionist Party was founded in September 1971 and took th e place of the Protestant Unionist Party. Both parties were led by the Rev Ian Paisley. The new party, according to Desmond Booth, a founder member, would be right wing, in the sense of being strong on the constitution but to the left on social policies. Ian Paisley's newspaper the 'Protestant Telegraph' (Whose motto is 'The Truth shall set you free') espouses a populist, Protestant fundamentalism. He is also a Euro-MP and a Westminster MP. In terms of the total number of votes cast in the Euro-elections Paisley is one of the most popular politicians in Northern Ireland. For an account of Ian Paisley's ideological rhetoric see D Taylor (1981), Limmerick. Also, 'Paisley' by Ed Maloney (1980), Dublin in the 'Crane Bag', vol. 4, no 2.

18 It is always important in discourse analysis to examine non-verbal, paralinguistic aspects of statements/texts. M Thatcher's use of stress-patterning and intonation are particularly noticeable.

19 Lerman more frequently uses the term 'Institutional Voice' where I use the broader term 'official discourse'.

20 Darby estimates the figure for the RUC at about 9.4 per cent Catholics in the early 1970s (Darby, 1976: 59).

21 The 'confidential telephone' is a number made available to the general public, advertised on posters, television, etc., which they can use to anonymously report information on terror ist activities.

22 It should be noted that the La Mon poster was, for the RUC something of an unusual document. It is not common practice for the RUC to publish such disturbing gruesome photographs of bomb victims. In contrast to other European and Middle Eastern security forces, the French or the Israelis for example, the RUC rega rd the use of such photographs generally as counter-productive. As such this is one difference between Loyalist and RUC usages of su ch materials. It is interesting in this light to note that the extremely bloody, full colour photographs in 'Ulster the Facts' a recently published book by the DUP (Paisley et al, 1982: 98-103) aimed at the American market, contains photographs from the RUC incident files which were not officially released for publication. The RUC officially, however, tend to regard the publication o f such material as counter-productive because of the ensuing public outrage which would occur. Such a situation would not only make the situation 'on the ground' intolerably dangerous for the officers of the RUC because of the strongly interventionist, heavy-hande d reaction—and Republican reaction to this—which would be demanded, but also because of the dangers of incensed Loyalists who mi ght be encouraged to take the law into their own hands. In other words, such publications are generally regarded as likely to intens ify rather than resolve conflict. Rather than simply conceiving this poster as illustrating the characterisation of the IRA as bestial, irredeemably 'other', although this is certainly relevant, the poster can clearly be regarded as an instance of the dialogism of heteroglossic relations. To discu ss fully the particularity of the RUC's mediation of the official discourse of the state is beyond the scope of this thesis, it wou ld require substantial work on the organisation and operation of the RUC itself. I should like, however, to stress one feature of th e mediation process, that of adapting general principles to local circumstances—what is normally referred to in literature on the police as the operation of 'discretion'. The decision of the RUC not to show publicly the many pictures of bloody, mutilated b odies from their incident files follows the same logic as turning a blind eye to what they classify as lesser evils and illegalitie s in order to prevent outbreaks of violent public disorder. The RUC being reluctant to remove Irish flags flying in Republican areas , or ignoring the non-payment of road tax in those same areas are examples of such action, or rather discretionary 'non-action'. Tha t the RUC do negotiate with Republicans is not, for obvious reasons, well-documented, it is, however, fairly unsurprising given the duration and intensity of the conflict in Northern Ireland and the position of the RUC in the 'front line' of this struggle. Althoug h it is difficult to substantiate with 'hard' evidence I suspect that this negotiation process is also true of the British army and Republican relations, although it is presumably less frequent because of the short duration of army tours and a basic difference in the organisation and operations of the RUC and the army—the RUC have a generally more developed institutional rationale for greate r integration with the community they serve. The RUC do sometimes negotiate directly with paramilitary organisations. What I am suggesting then, is that one can regard the La Mo n poster as an act of negotiation—saying to the Republican paramilitaries 'this will not be tolerated at all'. The poster in this light is a concrete feature of the dialogic heteroglossia.

23 The use of women, children and babies as figures of innocence is common to many discursive strategies. Information on Ireland's pamphlet about the use of rubber/plastic bullet s in Northern Ireland is called 'They Shoot Children' and has a picture of twelve year old Carol-Ann Kelly killed by a pla stic bullet on 19th May 1987 on its front cover. The picture, first published in 'IRIS', (vol. 1, no 2 November 1981: 69) emphasises the innocence of Carol-Ann showing her as it does lying on a coffin laid with white satin, dressed in white robes with a shroud around her face (Information on Ireland, 982: Front cover) (see Figure 3.9)

24 In the 'Savagery and the Suffering' (Robinson: undated: 8-9) this inclusivity becomes the 'young' and the 'old' the 'Lord' and the 'labourer', 'father and daughter'. The 'Savagery
and Suffering: A Glimpse at the Butchery and Brutality of the IRA' (undated) published by Peter Robinson and the Democratic U nionist Party also has a picture of a mutilated child on its front cover (see Figure 3.10). This particular pamphlet contains a series of photographs taken from elsewhere and fixed together to form a narrative on the patholo gy of the IRA linked to short written texts and headlines. The charred body of the La Mon bombing is one of the images reproduced. A lso reproduced is one of the pictures of baby Colin who appears in the 'Terror and the Tears'. The productive/rhetorical n ature of such imagery is underlined here, because although thematically the picture of baby Colin is used as evidence of IRA p athology, because a different interactional system is at work, the same picture produces two slightly different emphases. In the «MD UL»Terror and the Tears' the picture is developing the example of all babies and therefore all of society's most innocent chara cters, endangered by the IRA. In 'Savagery and Suffering', however, the linkage is not between one baby and another, but b etween the young and the old. The same theme of innocence then, and the same subsequent incorporation of the wider community into th e sphere of innocence, but achieved in a slightly different fashion (see Figure 3.11).

25 For example Mr Sean Russell, a Roman Catholic, part time UDR man killed by the IRA in the Creggan in Derry in 1972 ('Terror and the Tears', Northern Ireland Government, undat ed: 13)—This example is rather different than the naming of baby Angela as a Catholic. In the latter case 'Catholic' is simply tha t which is not Protestant, which when added to Protestant gives all babies, baby Colin then, has to be named as a Protestant. No RUC , UDR or British Army personnel are referred to as Protestant. Only those who are Catholic are named as such. Catholic here then has different connotations.

26 In an article called 'Is Britain losing the propaganda war?' the paper reported that the 'Sunday Times' sent the following list of questions to 73 newspapers. They received 64 replies: 1 What is your editorial attitude about Ulster? 2 Do you consider this reflects the view of your readers? 3 Has this always been your paper's attitude? 4 If not, when and why did your attitude change?

Figure 3.9

Figure 3.10

Figure 3.11

5 Where do you get your information on which you base your attitudes? 6 What do you consider to be your most reliable source of information about Ulster? 7 Do you think the citizens of your country get a fair and accurate picture of what is happening in Ulster? If not why not? 8 What do you think Britain should do now?
('Sunday Times', 31st May 1981).

27 1 Bobby Sands MP (66 days), 5th May 1981 2 Francis Hughes (59 days), 12th May 1981 3 Raymond Mc Creesh (61 days), 21st May 1981 4 Patsy O'Hara (61 days), 21 st May 1981 5 Joe McDonnell (61 days), 8th July 1981 6 Martin Hurson (46 days), 13th July 1981 7 Kevin Lynch (71 days), 1st August 1981 8 Kieran Dockerty TD (73 days), 2nd August 1981 9 Thomas McElwee (62 days), 8th August 1981 10 Michael Devine (60 days), 20th August 1981.

28 Bobby Sands' majority was 1,466 votes over Harry West former leader of the Official Unionist Party. Sands' supporters pointed out that he had polled 10,000 more votes than Margaret Tha tcher in the general election. Carron's majority was 2,230 votes ('Guardian', 22nd August 1987).

29 The Ulster Special Constabulary, the 'B' Specials, were disbanded on 30th April 1970 on the recommendation of the Hunt Committee Report.

30 One of the best deconstructions of this view is Sarah Nelson's book, 'Ulster's Uncertain Defenders' (Nelson, 1984).

31 During my time at the Derry Workshop then, it was quite natural that I should be referred to as a 'Catholic Atheist'.

32 lavatory' bomb' was K Best's actual coinage.

33 This is in direct contrast to the 'explanation' of the origins of terrorism given, for instance, by Staniforth: 'Disruption and terrorism must be as old as civilisation. When the naked apes emerged from the jungle, outclassed by the other animals in tooth and claw and fleetness of foot, they could only survive by using their superior brains, first to throw missiles or wield weapons, and then to join together in co-operative groups to hunt. Later, when these groups and tribes began to cultivate the land, perhaps 10,000 years ago, they formed hierarchies to organise protection of their crops and of their domestic animals and their homes, wives (sic) and children. Some leaders and hierarchies no doubt imposed themselves upon their communities by force, while others were appointed by popular consensus' ... 'In either case, however, there were 'dissidents' who resented or envied this authority an d tried to curtail it, either by arousing popular opposition or by killing or intimidating the leader or his agents (Staniforth, 197 7: 279-80).

34 The DUP and the Free Prestbyterian church have their own version of the 'reds under the beds' conspiracy: 'Both Romanism and Communism have absorbed the basic elements of pagan philosophy to bolster up their false and anti-God systems. Ro me deployed and developed Pagan ritual within the framework of counterfeit Christianity. Communism, prior to the French revolution a dopted the pagan and pantheistic doctrine of creation. The resulting formula came to be known as dialectical materialism' ('Pro testant Telegraph', 28th october 1968) (quoted in Bell, 1978: 843—first published 1976). 'Watch the Jews ... Israel is on the way back to favour ... Watch the Papist Rome rising to a grand crescendo with the communists. T he Reds are on the march. They are heading for an alliance against the return of th Lord Jesus Christ' ('Protestant Telegraph', 4th February 1967—also bell, 1978; 43). Somewhat paradoxically, the Catholic hierarchy also has a strongly developed sense of fear and loathing for communism, this has been a not insignificant conjunction for the development of Socialist and Republican ideas within Sinn Fein—see chapter on Republican discourse.


Freotopia

This page incorporates material from Garry Gillard's Freotopia website, that he started in 2014 and the contents of which he donated to Wikimedia Australia in 2024. The content was originally created on 31 July, 2014 and hosted at freotopia.org/people/alanmansfield/ch3.html (it was last updated on 27 March, 2021). The donated data is also preserved in the Internet Archive's collection.