July 1981


Uncovering the Truth About the 1981 Hunger Strike

Bobby Sands Trust: Hunger Strikers’ Families Speak Out

Hunger Strikers’ Families Speak Out
June 21, 2009 · Bobby Sands Trust

Families of those IRA and INLA Volunteers who died during the 1981 hunger strike have issued a statement condemning those who have relentlessly hurt them by making false allegations that their loved ones died needlessly.

The families privately met with Sinn Fein and a representative of the Bobby Sands Trust last Wednesday, 17th June, at the invitation of the party’s president Gerry Adams. Those present included relatives of Francis Hughes, Raymond McCreesh, Patsy O’Hara, Joe McDonnell, Martin Hurson, Kieran Doherty, Tom McElwee and Mickey Devine (his nieces and his son Mickey óg). Bridie Lynch, sister of Kevin Lynch, was unable to attend but sent Gerry Adams a note expressing her support. The Hughes’ family were represented by two nephews of Francis. Francis’s brother, Oliver, who was unable to attend, sent a letter to be read out. The meeting took place in Gulladuff, South Derry.
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“Rusty Nail”: Account of Gulladuff Meeting

Friday, June 19, 2009

Gulladuff: More Heat Than Light
Rusty Nail at Slugger O’Toole

UPDATE: SINN FEIN issues statement calling for a cover-up

Wednesday night in Gulladuff, South Derry, Gerry Adams, Danny Morrison and Bik McFarlane met with some members of some of the families of the 1981 hunger strikers. Anyone having any hopes of Sinn Fein supporting and honestly participating in a Truth and Reconciliation Commission should just go home now. It was a complete farce from beginning to end. Goons from West Belfast patrolled the parking lot and guarded the door to the community hall. When former Hunger Striker Gerard Hodgins, and Jimmy Dempsey, a former prisoner and father of John Dempsey, the 16 year old boy who died in the riots that occurred at the death of Joe McDonnell, and who is buried in the republican plot alongside McDonnell, along with a representative for the O’Hara and Devine families, asked to participate in the meeting, Danny Morrison forcibly closed the door on them, snarling that they were not wanted, that they had had their chance at the Gasyard Debate to speak to the families and if the families chose not to attend then, it did not mean that he had to allow them into the hall now. When it was pointed out that the representative was there at the request of two of the families, he stated he would go back and ask the families if entry would be permitted. He then locked them out.

Not long after, Bobby Storey, who had nothing to do with the hunger strike, came out and confronted the trio, insulting Gerard Hodgins under his breath by claiming he was in the Continuity IRA and making allegations about the recent break-in at his home. He clapped Dempsey on the back and turned on a sweeter tone, saying he was sorry about his son but he had no right to be there. Hodgins stated he wanted to make clear that he was not in the CIRA, that such allegations were spurious, and was Storey the source of them for the Andersonstown News. Storey rudely snapped, “I’m not talking to you,” and went on attempting to pacify Dempsey. Hodgins responded, “But I am talking to you,” whereby Storey whipped round, pointed his finger directly at Hodgins and said, “See you? I will speak to you at a time and place of my choosing.” This was a clear threat, which Hodgins underlined by asking incredulously, “Are you threatening me?” Realising he had gone too far, Storey made his excuses to Dempsey and was let back into the hall. Dempsey was clearly unhappy at being locked out of a meeting he felt, as his son’s death was a direct result of Joe McDonnells’, he had every right to be at, to ask, did his son have to die? If the outside leadership at the time had accepted the Mountain Climber offer, and Joe McDonnell had not died, nor would have young John Dempsey.

Yet Bobby Storey, a man who had nothing to do with the hunger strike and who had just threatened a hunger striker, had the doors unlocked for him.

And that was only the fireworks outside the meeting. Inside, it got worse.

With an inauspicious start, Adams introduced the meeting referring to “conspiracy theories by anti Sinn Fein elements” and drawing a comparison to conspiracy theories surrounding the death of Michael Collins, one of which alleges he was set up and shot by his own IRA men.

All the inconsistencies in the press to date were only amplified at the meeting. Attempts to clarify points or challenge previous statements were met with indignant fits of pique, such as Morrison claiming he would never sit in the same room with Richard O’Rawe, “the man who accused me of murdering 6 hunger strikers!”, or Gerry Adams repeatedly asking, “Do you think I am telling the truth, yes or no?”

Bik McFarlane also kept to the discredited nonsense that it was the hunger strikers who rejected the offer, despite evidence that the hunger strikers were never told the details of the offer.  He and Morrison claimed that all the hunger strikers (including Lynch and Devine) were told about the Mountain Climber offer and had refused, saying it was not enough. McFarlane then denied he ever had the the “Tá go leor ann” conversation with O’Rawe based on that claim, saying, “How could I? After hearing the men reject the offer put to them?” This notion does not jibe with any of the historical records and accounts of that time period.

Bik McFarlane claimed that he was always saying “I agree with you” in Irish to Richard, in a pathetic attempt to explain away the prisoners coming forward who overheard the conversation between himself and O’Rawe accepting the Mountain Climber offer. He was explaining that the prisoners who heard that conversation were mixing up the numerous conversations he had with O’Rawe in which he agreed with what O’Rawe was saying. This of course moves further still from his starting position of never having had any such conversation with O’Rawe, to now having had so many, he and other prisoners would be unable to keep track of them.

The ICJP and Mountain Climber offers were conflated in an attempt to obscure the outside rejection of the Mountain Climber offer. PRO statements, statements which were written at the behest of Adams, were repeatedly presented as if they reflected the private comms between the prison leadership and the outside. None of the private comms referring to the Mountain Climber, which O’Rawe had given Adams in 1986, were produced.

O’Rawe was demonised in the meeting, called a liar, painted as the villain and ascribed nefarious motives for pursuing the truth. Some families’ representatives were characterised as ‘anti-GFA’ and those who had attended the Gasyard debate, many of whom were former blanketmen, were derided as ‘yahoos’. A dubious motion was attempted to get the families to agree to a joint statement that would say they were all agreed any probing into the past should cease. They ‘had enough’, ‘old wounds had opened up’, and O’Rawe ‘should stop’,’ he was ‘only after money for books’; Danny Morrison fanned the flames of the attacks on O’Rawe’s character, keeping them going whenever they appeared to peter out. He mentioned O’Rawe’s taking him to court ‘over things I said during an RTE interview’, described how no matter how often he would meet O’Rawe, he never mentioned the relevations. A meeting on the hunger strike was turned into a manipulative back stabbing session. The Sunday Times and Republican Network for Unity were in for kickings as well. The proposed joint statement was objected to and not supported by all. A suggestion that the families meet with O’Rawe and others was knocked back. It was put forward that one of the families approach O’Rawe to tell him to ‘back off’ and ask for a response.  No motions proposed were passed; the meeting was becoming very emotional and many family members were close to tears.

Adams, McFarlane and Morrison were asked would they cooperate with an independent inquiry; the answer was a resounding “NO.”

After an hour and a half of hectoring, emotional manipulation, browbeating and more lies, Mickey Og Devine left early, visibly upset. He was disgusted with what he felt was nothing more than a sham, and with all the shouting and deflection when points were raised that challenged the platform. Other family members were also emotionally distraught when the meeting ended not long after he left.

Last weekend in New York, Gerry Adams waxed nostalgic about the peace process, noting how long it took to get from the start of the process to where Sinn Fein are today. He made observations about all the people – ‘the naysayers and begrudgers’ – who were against the peace process, who did not think it would work, and who did not want Sinn Fein to participate in such. Yet, he proudly claimed, Sinn Fein persevered.

Some Slugger readers will recall, in 1996, prior to the Good Friday negotiations, the image of Adams and McGuinness standing outside locked gates, begging civil servants for access to the British talks going on without them. Now Sinn Fein locks out republicans from their ‘private’ Widgery on their own actions during the Hunger Strike. A widgery in which they absolve themselves of any and all wrongdoing and condemn those who seek only the truth, putting figurative nailbombs into the pockets of anyone who dared challenge them.

The hypocrisy of allowing Bobby Storey, party enforcer, to stand menacingly at the back of the hall with his arms folded, glaring at anyone who didn’t pay homage to Dear Leader, while barring entry to a former hunger striker, the father of a young Fian killed as a result of Joe McDonnell’s death, and representatives requested by families is staggering.

However long it takes from being locked out of a SF widgery until finally achieving a full independent inquiry, with the ability to challenge all views openly and forthrightly in order to ascertain what exactly did happen and why, with or without an official Truth and Reconciliation Commission, those seeking the truth of what happened in July 1981, will persevere, just as Sinn Fein did, despite the naysayers and begrudgers who would rather bury the truth, or present a whitewash as fait accompli. No one is asking for another Bloody Sunday type inquiry – but a Widgery is unacceptable.

In using the families to hide behind the skirts of, it must be remembered that Sinn Fein has not had a problem with disrespecting and going against families of hunger strikers’ wishes when it suits them. Slugger has already noted the Sands family withdrawal of support for the Bobby Sands Trust, of which Morrison, McFarlane and Adams are on the board, because they were deeply unhappy with what they felt was the abuse of their relative. In addition, the Sands family were also vocal about their displeasure with the Denis O’Hearn biography of Bobby Sands, Nothing But An Unfinished Song. This did not, however, stop Sinn Fein, through Eoin O’Broin’s Left Republican Review, from publishing the book in conjunction with Pluto Press, nor launching the book across the country and supporting the children’s edition of the biography, which was co-written with Laurence McKeown. Sinn Fein was so ecstatic about that book they wanted it introduced into school curriculum.  The Sands’ family position on the book, and indeed, the gross abuse of Bobby Sands’ image by the party, means absolutely nothing to Sinn Fein.

If we support the right of O’Hearn, as a historian, to write a biography of a noted historical figure, and the right of former prisoners McKeown and Elliott to contribute to an adaptation for children, while also endorsing its use in schools, despite the express wishes of the family; then it follows that we must support O’Rawe’s book as well.

This therefore becomes an issue of freedom of speech; for if families are to hold history hostage to their emotions, nothing would be written. If families are to be manipulated by politicians who wish to bury the truth of history, and people are then expected, via emotional blackmail, to defer to “the families’ wishes”, nothing would be written but the politicians’ lies. Families may express their disapproval but that will not and should not stop history from being probed, challenged, written, and read.

Clearly, ‘private’ meetings are not sufficient to address public concerns about important issues such as the hunger strikes, which had a massive impact on society beyond a handful of family members. Enough information and evidence is now out in the public domain that needs answered elsewhere from Diplock courts. Blanketmen have the right to ask their leaders of the time for a public and truthful accounting of what they did and why, without it being reduced to a browbeating exercise in deflection. The republican community at large is deeply scarred by the hunger strike and they too deserve the truth. Beyond that, the unionist community also has a right to know was the hunger strike prolonged for the promotion of Sinn Fein, as that impacts their own history greatly as well. The truth can’t be disappeared, no matter how many attempts to bury it are made.

Somehow, the bodies keep being found.

Father and son Jimmy and John Dempsey, as written about by Gerry Adams. Jimmy Dempsey was denied entry and locked out of the meeting in Gulladuff.

An Phoblacht, 15 May 2003
Remembering Fian John Dempsey
Within hours of the death on hunger strike of Joe McDonnell, the British Army shot dead 16-year-old Fian John Dempsey. He and two comrades were on active service when they come under fire from a squad of British soldiers at the Falls Road bus depot in Belfast.
John Dempsey died later in the Royal Victoria Hospital. Last week, on Monday 5 May, republicans from the Turf Lodge area of West Belfast unveiled a plaque at the Falls Bus Depot near the spot where he was killed.
As a tribute to the young republican, we reprint an edited version of an article written by Sinn Féin President Gerry Adams, using the pen name Brownie, in which he outlined the political and social conditions that influenced the thinking of young nationalists and led them into the struggle for national liberation.

Until the morning of last Wednesday week, Fian John Dempsey, aged 16, lived in one of the grey houses which sprawl on either side of the Monagh Road in Turf Lodge.

His family, a week after his death, are now like so many other families, trying to pick up the pieces – in the heart-rending vacuum which is always created by sudden death, especially by the death of one so young and cheerful as John.

At the wake on Thursday week he looks only twelve years old, his body laid in an open coffin flanked by a guard of honour from Na Fianna Éireann.

Hardened by many funerals, by too many sudden deaths, yet one is riveted to the spot unable to grasp the logic, the divine wisdom, the insanity, which tightened a British soldier’s trigger finger and produced yet another corpse.

“He’s so young, ” exclaimed those who call to pay their respects. “Jesus, he’s only a child.”

All night, neighbours, friends and relatives call. All with the same reaction.

But young people call also, shifting uncomfortably in adult company, but strangely unshocked – not visibly at any rate – by what they see in the sad living room of the Dempsey home.

Just a tightening of young faces as they gaze silently at John’s remains, a hardening of eyes, and then silently out again to stand in small groups at the street corner. None of the awkward handshakes and mumbled “I’m sorry for your troubles”.

They understand better than most the logic which directed the British Army rifle at John, and, having understood, they pay their respects and move outside – to wait.

John’s mother, Theresa, sits comforted by friends, while her husband Jimmy stands, a gaunt figure at the head of his son’s coffin, gently stroking John’s head. Jimmy shakes hands with Dal Delaney – both fathers of dead patriots (the latter of Dee Delaney killed in a premature bomb explosion in Belfast in January 1980).

Many of Jimmy’s prison comrades come to the house. He spent six years in Long Kesh as a political prisoner, and soon talk turns to the Kesh, but not like at an adult wake where ‘craic’ flows non-stop.

At least, not in the living room, where the youthful figure in the coffin brings one sharply back from what has passed to what lies ahead, from what has been done, to what still remains to be done.

The next morning, the slow sad procession to the chapel on a bright warm summer morning; and after Mass, the girl piper heralding our passing as we make our way, once again, to Milltown. Down from the heights of Turf Lodge, past the spot where John was murdered, and by the British Army barracks, through the open gates of the cemetery, to the republican plot, where two open graves – one for Joe McDonnell – await our arrival.

John left school at Easter. He played hurling and football for Gort Na Mona and soccer for Corpus Christi, and like his father and his many uncles he was a keep fit enthusiast with an interest in body building.

He joined Na Fianna Éireann in October 1980 and like many young people from Turf Lodge, was subjected to regular harassment by British soldiers.

Wreaths are laid before we leave for Lenadoon and the funeral of Joe McDonnell.

John Dempsey’s funeral, a smaller and in many ways a sadder ceremony than Joe’s, is a stark reminder that for the first time in contemporary Irish history, the struggle has crossed the generation gap.

When Joe McDonnell was first interned in 1972, John Dempsey was a mere seven years old. Yet they were to die and be buried in the same republican plot, within hours of each other, in the service of a common cause and against the same enemy.

As Jimmy Dempsey said of his son, “John has joined the elite. He died for the freedom of his country.”

(A tribute by Brownie) first published in AP/RN 18/7/81

Marcella Sands on record about Denis O’Hearn’s biography of her brother, Bobby:

In response to an article headlined ‘New Book is First Study of Bobby Sands’, which appeared in a recent edition of the Andersonstown News, I wish to put the record straight.

According to the article, the author of the book, Denis O’Hearn, “thanks the hunger striker’s sister Marcella for her help with the book.” This suggests that I had “helped” or participated in some way in the compilation of this book and, therefore, endorsed it. This is misleading and untrue.

I wish to state categorically that neither I, nor any of my family, helped Mr O’Hearn with his book in any way, nor does my family endorse the book. Indeed, the opposite would be the case as his book contains numerous factual inaccuracies.

Denis O’Hearn’s acknowledgment of the family’s position:

[Part of the article could give] the mistaken idea that the Sands family participated in the research for the book. This is not so. I met Marcella Sands when I was beginning my research and she told me that the family did not feel that they could participate because they were writing their own memoirs and it would create a conflict of interest if they also helped me. I respected their decision and on numerous occasions when people asked me, I made it clear that Bobby’s immediate family was not participating. 

Sourced from Slugger O’Toole

Sile Darragh’s letter deconstructed + Sands Family objection

Excerpt from Slugger O’Toole comment section discussion, looking at the Sands family objection to the Bobby Sands Trust, and deconstucting the Sile Darragh letter.

Sile Darragh is a member of the Bobby Sands Trust, which has a vested interest in protecting the Morrison narrative, not least because Danny Morrison is its secretary.

The legal firm Madden & Finucane continues to act for the trust, whose original members were Gerry Adams, Danny Morrison, Tom Hartley, the late Tom Cahill, Marie Moore and Danny Devenny. For a time, Bobby’s two sisters, Marcella and Bernadette, were members of the trust. Current members are Gerry Adams MP, Danny Morrison, Tom Hartley, Jim Gibney, Brendan ‘Bik’ McFarlane, Sile Darragh, Carál Ní Chuilín MLA, and Peter Madden.


5 of the current Trust members are party to the dispute over the prison acceptance of the July offer. A further Trust member then weighs in with a letter supporting their position, and it in turn is flogged by Raymond McCartney on Radio Foyle as the new leadership line, which appears also in the Brian Rowan article about Brendan Duddy.

By the by, the Sands family has long disowned the Bobby Sands Trust and have sought in the past to have it wound up. In 2000,

A spokesperson for the Sands family said that all of the dead hunger striker’s family were united on the issue and would consider any avenue to wind up the trust. “We simply want his property returned and for (Sinn Féin) to cease using him as a commodity”, said the spokesperson.

According to the Sands family version of events it was their unhappiness with the way Bobby Sands’ writings and poetry were being treated by some in the Sinn Féin leadership that led to a new Trust being set up in 1994.

“We came to look closer at the Trust and in turn were concerned at the lack of control or accountability”, said one family source. “There were no records of minutes etc. or proper accounts and it was debatable if they ever functioned as a Trust but rather as an extension of SF. It has been claimed that Marcella was a member of the Trust for instance yet she was never informed of meetings or for that matter who the other members were”.

There was also family concern over an alleged attempt by Sinn Féin to insert a clause in the new Trust which would have made Gerry Adams a financial beneficiary. “It came in the draft version of the new trust documents drawn up in 1994 though Adams said that it should read the president of Sinn Féin of the day. We didn’t agree to either”.

Now, onto Síle Darragh’s letter – which really doesn’t amount to much more than what has already been said by the Morrison crowd; its only value is that it allows them to now say, “Síle Darragh’s letter,” and imply by reference that she is some sort of new authority for having put her name to something Morrison himself likely wrote. No matter – it says:

I have before me, David Beresford’s book Ten Men Dead which was published in 1987 and which presumably Richard O’Rawe has read. Here are some quotes from 1981: “The Foreign Office, in its first offer . . .” (p293); “a vague offer” p294; “parts of their offer were vague” – Brendan McFarlane (p295); “nothing extra on offer” (p295); “what was on offer” (p297); “he [Gerry Adams] told the two men [Fr Crilly and Hugh Logue of the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace] what the Government had been offering” (p297).

I have before me Ten Men Dead, too, and so, to look at the pages cited.

Page 293 – the full quote describes the offer made through the Mountain Climber link. This has now been confirmed by Brendan Duddy as the offer obtained by Liam Clarke via FOI requests and can be viewed here.

Page 294 – says that the section on remission is “a vague offer”, but as we see from the NIO document:

III. allow the restoration of forfeited remission at the discretion of the responsible disciplinary authority, as indicated in my statement of 30 June, which hitherto has meant the restoration of up to one-fifth of remission lost subject to a satisfactory period of good behaviour;

(Síle’s letter was written before the NIO material was available and, obviously, before the Derry meeting).

Page 295 – a misleading extract from a comm of Bik McFarlane’s. He is speaking of the offer the ICJP was pursuing:

“I saw all the hunger strikers last night (6 July) and briefed them on the situation. They seemed strong enough and can hold the line alright. They did so last night when the Commission met them. There was nothing extra on offer – they just pushed their line and themselves as guarantors over any settlement.”

So although the word ‘offer’ appears in the line, it confuses things as it is referring to a different offer from the Mountain Climber one.

Page 297 – This refers to when Adams told the ICJP to back off because he had a better offer from the Mountain Climber.

“Adams had decided they had to take a chance and let the commission know about the contacts with the British Government – for no other reason than to explain why the Commission should withdraw. He told the two men what the Government had been offering – more than had been offered to the Commission – explaining he believed the authorities were merely using the ICJP as an intelligence feed, as a cross-check to construct a strategy to win, or at least settle, the dispute. The commissioners were stunned by the disclosure.”

Page 294 and 302 – That Morrison was in the hospital on the day has never been in dispute. However, the reference on page 302 to his visit is worth looking at a little closer. It quotes a comm McFarlane sent to Adams reassuring him that the hunger strikers were accepting the Adams line:

“Now I had a yarn with all the hunger strikers. They are all strong and determined. Very angry about Joe’s death, as we all are. I emphasized the point of staying solid and keeping their clanns (families) in line…‘Pennies’ had already informed them of the ‘Mountain Climber’ angle and they accepted this as 100%. They accept the view that the Brits, in trying to play us too close to the line, made a blunder and didn’t reckon on Joe dying so quickly…”

What this reads as is McFarlane reporting back that he had told the hunger strikers what Adams wanted him to and that they believed him.

Darragh then goes in her letter to say “Mr O’Rawe didn’t speak to the hunger strikers, didn’t visit the prison hospital or meet the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace.” This has no bearing whatsoever on O’Rawe’s role, and his knowledge of the acceptance of the Mountain Climber offer between himself and McFarlane.

So now that we have looked at the Darragh letter in detail, we turn to Brendan Duddy’s endorsement of it as reported by Brian Rowan.

It is entirely consistent with his position at the Derry meeting, and in keeping with what his knowledge would have been at the time in his role as the Mountain Climber link. The difference is that in Derry, he was presented with the NIO document and able to verfiy that as the offer he conveyed to the Adams committee, he was able to clarify that he was never told of the prison leadership’s acceptance of the offer, and he confirmed the response from the Adams committee was to reject the offer. Brian Rowan, who was at the Derry meeting, did not have the NIO document at the time he wrote his article, and apparently did not ask him if he knew of the prison leadership’s acceptance of the deal. A failure to ask relevant questions does not mean ‘the witness is unreliable’; it means the lawyer is shading the examination, or not asking the right questions.

It is because Duddy answered all questions put to him in Derry, and moved the story forward beyond the Morrison offer/deal fudge because of the clarity his answers brought, that he is now being thrown under the bus by those who previously championed him. His account is still consistent with events as we know them and what knowledge he would have in his role as the link. The contention is that the Adams committee over-ruled the prison leadership’s acceptance of the offer Duddy was aware of; why then, would Duddy, who was not in direct contact with the prisoners, know otherwise? He would only know what the Adams committee told him as to what the IRA’s position was. He knew of the offer going in, and he knew that the offer was not accepted by the Adams committee. So of course he would say, “Síle Darragh got it spot on,” because she is describing what the Adams committee told Duddy.

There’s no contradiction; he has remained consistent throughout, given the remit of his role.

Rusty Nail at Slugger O’Toole, comments 12-14, page 4 of discussion

Sourced from Slugger O’Toole

The Sile Darragh letter

Disputed events during hunger strike
Tue, Apr 21, 2009

Madam, – Richard O’Rawe (April 10th) claims that Brendan “Bik” McFarlane denies there was an offer to end the 1981 hunger strike, and other people, including spokespersons for the IRSP, have said that it knew nothing of an offer until Richard O’Rawe published his book in 2005.

I have before me, David Beresford’s book Ten Men Dead which was published in 1987 and which presumably Richard O’Rawe has read. Here are some quotes from 1981: “The Foreign Office, in its first offer . . .” (p293); “a vague offer” p294; “parts of their offer were vague” – Brendan McFarlane (p295); “nothing extra on offer” (p295); “what was on offer” (p297); “he [Gerry Adams] told the two men [Fr Crilly and Hugh Logue of the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace] what the Government had been offering” (p297). On p294 and p302 it reports that Danny Morrison in the prison hospital told the hunger strikers (Joe McDonnell, Kevin Lynch, Kieran Doherty, Tom McElwee and Mickey Devine) the details of what the British appeared to be offering. So much for Mr O’Rawe claiming they were kept in the dark.

Mr O’Rawe didn’t speak to the hunger strikers, didn’t visit the prison hospital or meet the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace.

This whole matter will be put to rest when he grasps the difference between an offer and a deal (which the British refused to stand over). – Yours, etc,


Ex-Armagh Gaol POW,
Strand Walk, Belfast.



Sourced from the Irish Times

Bobby Sands Trust: Sunday Times Refuses to Publish Answers

Sunday Times Refuses to Publish Answers
April 19, 2009 · Bobby Sands Trust

On Sunday 12th April last the Sunday Times printed an allegation from Sean Flynn (IRSP) that he had visited INLA hunger striker Kevin Lynch on Sunday 5th July in 1981 and that Kevin Lynch “knew nothing” about behind-the-scenes attempts to resolve the prison crisis. Flynn, according to Liam Clarke, also claimed that he “went into the prison with him [Morrison] on the second of his [Morrison’s] two visits that day.”

Danny Morrison challenged Clarke’s report and Flynn’s account. Clarke had been in regular contact with Morrison in the days before he wrote his report yet never put the allegation to Morrison.
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Bobby Sands Trust: Documents Still Withheld

Documents Still Withheld
April 7, 2009 · Bobby Sands Trust

An attempt by the ‘Sunday Times’ [5th April] to call into question the republican leadership’s handling of the 1981 hunger strike by publishing British government documents released under the Freedom of Information Act has actually boomeranged on the reporter who wrote the story, Liam Clarke. [Liam Clarke, after being challenged by the Bobby Sands Trust, had to admit last month that a quote he attributed to Bobby Sands and used in a lurid headline – “Sinn Fein is turning into Sands’s dodo” – wasn’t said by Bobby Sands.]
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Anthony McIntyre: The Blelloch Interview

Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Blelloch Interview
Anthony McIntyre, The Pensive Quill

A couple of days ago I received an e mail from a friend with a link which took me to the well designed website of the Bobby Sands Trust. Once there I found myself looking at what appeared to be a valuable historical document and one that any researcher of the period in time referred to would want archived. It was an interview recorded by the US academic and author Padraig O’Malley with John Blelloch, a key British official central to events pertaining to the hunger strikes of 1980 and 1981. The interview took place in 1986 and O’Malley was interested in bringing more light to bear on the era of five to six years past. He later went on to write a book about the hunger strike Biting At The Grave, which while dubious in terms of the analytical method used to explore and explain motivation was nevertheless packed with useful insight and information.

Why the interview has just appeared is not explained. Nor are we told who supplied it to the Trust or when it came into its possession. If Blelloch’s side passed it on we are not aware of it. Nor are we sure that it came from O’Malley. It might well have been stumbled upon as so often happens. The Trust has a responsibility to find these things and would be foolish not to seize upon them whenever the opportunity arises and from whatever the source. While knowledge of the pathway from donor to recipient is useful for allowing a more finely tuned appreciation of where the debate is at, for now the matter of origins is a secondary issue. More than a quarter century after the hunger strikes it is inevitable that people will be more forthcoming and the presumption of an underhand agenda on their part may be misplaced. What is important is that the widest possible range of information be brought into the public sphere so that people can arrive at their own judgements. The Bobby Sands Trust is to be commended for placing this important transcript in the public domain.

According to the Trust:

What is important about the interview is that it represents an insight into the psyche of the British at crucial periods in the hunger strikes, particularly at the time of mediation attempts by others, including the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace [ICJP] … O’Malley twice interviewed Blelloch: in September 1986 and again on 23rd November 1988. Below is an unedited extract from the September 1986 interview dealing with the death of IRA Volunteer Joe McDonnell, and is followed by Blelloch’s analysis of the first hunger strike. It is illuminating in that the interview was conducted long before the publication of Ten Men Dead, which reveals the republican analysis, and it shows the intransigence of the British government throughout both hunger strikes.

Having finished reading the interview this morning, like the Trust I concluded that Blelloch – whom the Trust claims was a member of MI5, a view I have no reason to dissent from – sought to present a very unyielding position. What puzzled me is why he chose to conceal the initiative by his sister spook agency MI6 which seems to have been involved in a more conciliatory approach just prior to the death of IRA volunteer Joe McDonnell. Blelloch had to have known of that initiative but restricted his comments to the efforts by the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace, an intervention already well documented. What was not in the pubic domain Blelloch was clearly not going to place there. O’Malley clearly did not know of the MI6 mission otherwise he would have tested the Blelloch perspective against it. Blelloch chose not to enlighten him.

It was not until the following year that David Beresford brought the MI6 role to the attention of the public with his fine book Ten Men Dead. He only discovered it because, according to Richard O’Rawe, a comm from the period referring to the MI6 operative Mountain Climber that was not supposed to make its way to Beresford evaded the Sinn Fein filter. Sinn Fein knew of MI6’s involvement but for its own reasons decided not to make the matter public. We can only speculate that this was because the party felt there was no point in allowing the British to don the mantle of compassion and flexibility when it seemed clear to everyone that they were unbending throughout the period. Indeed Sinn Fein’s most consistent theme has been that the British Prime Minister of the time, Margaret Thatcher, was totally hostile to any bridging of the gap between her government’s position and the demands of the dying prisoners. Sinn Fein, or people close to it, also relied heavily on this inflexible trait of Thatcher in their effort to refute the charge by Richard O’Rawe that the British through MI6 made a substantial offer to the prisoners which the prison leadership accepted but was overruled on by elements within the outside leadership responsible for day to day management of the hunger strike.

In 1986 both Sinn Fein and the British, then on opposite sides of a bitter armed conflict, had their own reasons for wanting to portray the Tory government of Margaret Thatcher as being resolute and determined not to bend in the face of pressure. The British for ideological and then current strategic reasons wanted to maintain an image of a prime minister not for turning as she and the Conservatives set about rolling back the social democratic state. Any suggestion that Thatcher might have wilted in the face of determined republican opposition at the centre of which was the IRA for whom she had a visceral hatred, would have undermined that position. Sinn Fein, for it part, always found it easier to get its message across if its opponent was effectively maligned. In Thatcher it found an easy albeit willing target.

Whether Thatcher was as unbending as has been suggested by Blelloch is called into question by his unwillingness to disclose information that would permit the development of an alternative narrative of the hunger strikes. That narrative has since been developed by Richard O’Rawe in his book Blanketmen and has maintained an elongated stage life despite attempts to force it into the wings. Blelloch’s account does nothing to reinforce O’Rawe’s perspective but at the same time fails to undermine him largely because it declined to trespass on an area then marked ‘prohibited’. By withholding vital information Blelloch has undermined his own ostensible commitment to be forthcoming. Why the Bobby Sands Trust failed to draw attention to this is something best explained by itself.

Blelloch’s account is so flat and delivered in typical British mandarin style, that if it were to be integrated into any assault aimed at exploding the O’Rawe thesis it will produce the blast of a damp squib. It will hardy even make the 7 day wonder category. 7 days is a long time in politics, long enough to see perspectives turned completely on their head.

Sourced from The Pensive Quill

Bobby Sands Trust: MI5 on Hunger Strike (John Blelloch)

EXCLUSIVE – MI5 on Hunger Strike
March 19, 2009 · Bobby Sands Trust

“There was absolutely no change in the government’s position.”

An unpublished interview with Sir John Blelloch, a member of MI5 who had been seconded to the NIO as a Deputy Secretary at the time of the 1980 and 1981 hunger strikes, has come into the possession of the Bobby Sands Trust. The interview was conducted at the British Ministry of Defence in late September 1986 [where Blelloch was Permanent Under Secretary] by the author of ‘Biting At The Grave’, Padraig O’Malley, professor at the University of Massachusetts, Boston.

What is important about the interview is that it represents an insight into the psyche of the British at crucial periods in the hunger strikes, particularly at the time of mediation attempts by others, including the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace [ICJP].

O’Malley twice interviewed Blelloch: in September 1986 and again on 23rd November 1988. Below is an unedited extract from the September 1986 interview dealing with the death of IRA Volunteer Joe McDonnell, and is followed by Blelloch’s analysis of the first hunger strike. It is illuminating in that the interview was conducted long before the publication of ‘Ten Men Dead’, which reveals the republican analysis, and it shows the intransigence of the British government throughout both hunger strikes.

Padraig O’Malley [P.O’M]: On the second hunger strike, were there any differences, again the assumptions made, which influenced how policy was made?

John Blelloch [JB]: No, I don’t think so. I’m afraid, of course, that we all, I think, realised that the second hunger strike was more likely to lead to someone dying, particularly as we read, as I read, Sands’ personality. He, having been the leader the first time round, volunteered himself for the second. He did so in a way which left him personally very exposed if only because he went on first himself. I don’t think that was an accident. I think it’s very probable that Sands was determined to put himself in a position in which he did not have to take the decision that somebody else should die, which, of course, was the position that the leader of the first group was in. So, when the second strike was announced, I think most of us felt that Sands personally, and maybe some others, would go through with it, but the issues, I’m afraid, seemed to be what they were before. One response to the new situation was that we continued to be, I think, pretty generous in the facilities that we allowed for third parties to go in and see for themselves and talk to the prisoners and, as you’ve spoken to Michael Alison [Prisons Minister], no doubt he’s talked to you about the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace which I think was the last major effort by third parties to do something about this. But I think the issues were the same.

P.O’M: Let’s talk about that. In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, I might come back to see you again in November sometime because I’ll have this typed up and sent on to you in the meantime and it’ll allow me to get so far because there’ll be some ancillary questions that I’ll have. But that period, I think it was from the 3rd to the 11th of July when the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace…

JB: I’m sure you’ve got the dates right. I thought it was slightly earlier than that, I must say.

P.O’M: There was two rounds of meetings, I think. One was in late June…

JB: Well, I remember four meetings, I think, altogether. But, anyway, the facts can be established.

P.O’M: These were the meetings just before Joe McDonnell died and again I think it was a meeting on a Friday which extended well into a Saturday and then the Irish Commission when to the Maze, met with the prisoners and the relatives, came back and met with Mr Alison again and then, according to their version of events, again I think it was you, a senior civil servant, was to have been sent to the Maze to talk to the prisoners. That did not happen. Joe McDonnell died and the talks collapsed. There was suggestions at the time that Mr Alison had been overruled by Mrs Thatcher.

JB: Well, it’s difficult for me to comment. I mean. Again, I suppose I should have refreshed my memory but there were indeed a series of meetings that involved myself, or with a team of officials of which I was one, which supported Mr Alison in, I think, four meetings with the Irish Commission. There was certainly a weekend.

P.O’M: That’s correct. There would have been two before that.

JB: Yes. Well, the first round of meetings were, I’m sure, summarised in a letter that Michael Alison wrote to the Irish Commission for Justice and Peace, an unclassified letter, so the Irish Commission have no doubt got it, sometime in June, I think.

P.O’M: Yes, that would have been in June. There were two meetings in June.

JB: I think there were two more and the problem as always was seeing whether we could find some fresh statement of the government’s position which respected all our, which abided by our principal objectives which we adhered to throughout the hunger strike but nevertheless constituted some sort of opportunity for the prisoners to come off it. As far as I remember the delay on that was actually getting final agreement to the text of what might be said, which was not easy, and in the event McDonnell died before that process could be completed and of course thereafter it collapsed.

P.O’M: But their belief was that – are they mistaken in their belief? – that a prison official should have been sent into the gaol by, was it some time before twelve o’clock the following… I mean, there was a time factor involved…?

JB: I think that to answer this kind of detail, and I’m not evading the question, except to the extent that to answer, at five years remove, questions about what actually should or should not have happened, at the end of very long periods of work, is actually a little unfair. The facts, I’ve no doubt, can be established with the Northern Ireland Office. I know that the Irish Commission at one point were disappointed or professed to be disappointed that at some point when a document was to be taken, yet another of these statements, I suspect they hoped that I might do it and it wasn’t me it was done by somebody else. Why they should have thought it was important that I should do it rather than other officials in the prison department I’ve absolutely no idea, but I am conscious of a memory that there was some disappointment about that. But I think I would like to come back to the fundamentals here. There was absolutely no change in the government’s position on why it stood where it was, what was available to the prisoners and, insofar as one could say this in advance, what would happen as the protest ended. That position remained in all material respects, unchanged. Much of this endeavour was, as I say, to go on restating that in as constructive, as truthful a way that you can, in the hope that the latest restatement would constitute the grounds which would make it possible for the prisoners to stop it. By the same token, we continued to discuss with people so that they were in our minds, and hopefully they were in the prisoners’ minds, to try and facilitate the chance of the prisoners stopping. I have to say that one experience I take away from that process is how impossible it is in that sort of situation for someone to interpose himself between the two parties and remain absolutely uncommitted and neutral. You are bound, it seems to me, if you are any good at all as a human being, to get caught up in a kind of mediation and, of course, in that situation it is always a mediation which requires government, as apparently the stronger party, to stand down. Though I have no doubt they will deny it, I think that is actually what the Irish Commission progressively began to do.

P.O’M: They became a party to it, themselves?

JB: Yes. Maybe unconsciously, maybe unconsciously and in some cases I’m sure unconsciously. I don’t think all, but I think in some. But I think they’d become in a sense drawn into a position in which they believed they were negotiating in a situation which is not really negotiable.

P.O’M: They thought they, in fact, could have arrived at a formula that would, if you wish, become…

 JB: I have no doubt they passionately wanted to arrive at a formula and did so for the best of humanitarian reasons. But I do also believe that in these situations it is very easy for the wish to become father to the thought and for the wish to be assumed to be practical when it may not be, at any rate on the sort of terms and conditions that they have in mind.

P.O’M: Could an accommodation have been reached?

JB: Well, what have you got in mind by an accommodation? I’m not sure what your question means.

P.O’M: Well, at any point did the government believe that this in fact could be settled other than by the hunger strike being broken or that that in fact was the only possible end, that there was no other possible end?

JB: I think the government believed with a good deal of justification that the bridge between the so-called five demands and the government’s own stated position, that the gulf between those two was one that (a) was wide in substance because it was to do with what I said at the beginning, it was to do with setting back government policy, and that (b) the prospectus which the government had laid out really did represent the limits to which it was possible for government to go. If that is saying, did I believe that an accommodation which represented government accepting the five demands then I have to say that I think the answer to that is no.

P.O’M: Or that they could find some variation, some formula which might have involved two and a half demands, or something?

JB: Ah well, we heard a lot about that. I mean, at various stages we heard about how we might sort of have a fuzzy kind of free association but my own view is that that would have been a self-deception on our part. It seemed to me quite clear what the prisoners wanted. They wanted the conditions that applied to special category status. In this particular context, that included the freedom to operate within the confines of a compound which was complete freedom. We would have been absolutely kidding ourselves if we had thought that there was anything else they wanted or that by making a perceptible move towards that, we would do anything other than stimulate pressure to get the whole lot. Now, I believe that to be the position.

P.O’M: On the role of the IRA, did the NIO believe that the IRA was coercing or influencing the families not to medically intervene?

JB: I’m not sure I can answer that. I don’t really know what the IRA may or may not have been doing. I prefer to talk about things that I did know about. It would seem to me, on the whole, given the IRA’s record in this sort of thing, pretty surprising if the families had not come under a good deal of pressure to, as it were, back up those of their members that were involved in the hunger strike. That said, that is not to say that there were not those in the families who believed passionately that what their members were doing was right and justified. Many of them may well have done so. So I think it would be an over-simplification to suggest that all families’ support for the hunger strikes stemmed from IRA or INLA pressure. I think that would be an over-simplification. I find it, however, difficult to believe that there was not some pressure applied to that kind to maximise support through the families.

P.O’M: Yes, I suppose what I’m asking, did NIO have any direct intelligence estimates of what the level of coercion or whether or not that kind of coercion was going on?

JB: Well, if they had, they were not made available to me.

P.O’M: Would you see any difference in the decision-making process as it unfolded in the second hunger strike and what it was in the first hunger strike?

JB: Well, I think the short answer to that would be no. I think that, of course, the pressures plainly were higher because people were dying, outside the prisons as well as in, and therefore the pressures on the decision-makers to do something about it were correspondingly greater. But the issue was the same.

P.O’M: But in effect there was nothing you could do?

JB: Yes.

P.O’M: So, in that sense, I might put words in your mouth, if you like, your government too was entrapped by the decision made by the hunger strikers in terms of the options that it had open to it?

JB: Yes. I’m not sure that I would buy the word ‘entrapped’. The government had a very clear and, in my own judgement, a very rational and well-articulated position about why it believed what it did, what it would do in certain circumstances, which, incidentally, it did do. Now, the position the government was put in was one of people saying, I’m sorry but the prospectus is unacceptable and we are going to use extreme methods to try to make you change it. Now, if you say that’s entrapment, that’s your word. I don’t think I really saw it as entrapment myself in a sense of being sort of enclosed. It seemed to me that there was here a collision of principles, if you like. Certainly, a collision of interests and objectives where government had moved as far as it could, had deployed its case as best it could and on which government ultimately simply had to stand. Now, I don’t actually call that entrapment.

P.O’M: Okay, I’ll leave it there. Thank you.

John Blelloch had been seconded before the announcement of the first hunger strike in 1980 from the Ministry of Defence to the NIO in Belfast. As a Deputy Secretary he was one of two who answered to the Permanent Secretary. He was in charge of three divisions: security policy, the prisons department and the criminal justice department. In the first part of the interview he revealed how at the end of the first hunger strike the British government believed that giving the prisoners their own clothes “would have only postponed the final confrontation”.

P.O’M: Could you tell me a bit about the role you played in the first one, particularly in relation to the talks between Mr Atkins and Cardinal O’Fiaich and Bishop Edward Daly?

JB: Well, I think my role on that was simply that of any civil servant tendering advice to a Minister. I would be doing no more and no less in respect of the issues that came up in discussions with the Cardinal and with the Bishop than any other civil servant would have been in tendering advice to the Minister. There was nothing special in my role except in the sense that the Cardinal and the Bishop had decided to take an interest in the hunger strike and conducted a series of meetings both with Humphrey Atkins and with my predecessor in the period leading up to the announcement of the first hunger strike…

P.O’M: I suppose what I would like to get at in our talk is the nature of the decision-making process and what assumptions were brought to bear by different constituencies and their behaviour. For example, maybe I’ll start in the middle. Was there an assumption on the government’s side that the hunger strikes were about the five demands or was there an assumption that they were about something else?

JB: I think that I would have to answer that by saying what I remember about the position – because, after all, it’s six years ago now – and what my assessment of the position was. It seemed to me at the time and has seemed ever since…

P.O’M: This is in 1980?

JB: In 1980. It seemed to me at the time and has seemed to me ever since that the hunger strike was all about an objective on the part of the people in the Maze prison (and I’m for the moment drawing a distinction between the people in the Maze prison and the high command of the Provisional IRA outside it) to set aside that complex of government decisions which had the effect of ending special category status and instead treating everybody convicted of crimes in the same way in terms of the prison regime. Not of course in the same way in terms of sentence imposed, but the same way in terms of the conditions in which they were then imprisoned. So, the five demands as they were expressed, in my view were a shorthand way of expressing the differences between a conventional prison regime of the kind that we operated in the Maze for everybody, on the one hand, and the regime that operated for the special category status prisoners who had been sentenced but then dealt with as special category prisoners under the regime prevailing before that. Hence, the influence and the importance in the five demands or what came to be called free association but which simply meant that prisoners could move around within the confines of their hut or their compound virtually at will with prison staff simply limited to keeping supervision from the perimeter. So, to get back to the basics of this, I think the key assumption here was that the hunger strike was the culmination of a process of protest about the application of the government’s policy for dealing with terrorist crime which goes all the way back to the first man imprisoned after the ending of special category status who refused to wear prison clothes. In other words, in my view, there’s a straight continuum from the blanket, via the dirty, to the hunger strike as a determination on the part of the prisoners inside the Maze to set aside that decision of government about how crime or how acts, be they acts of murder or wounding or whatever, should be dealt with in terms of the prison regime whenever those acts should be prosecuted as crimes before the law so that murder remained murder regardless of motive; a determination to set that aside and return to the old special category status. Secondly, the determination to set that aside seemed to me to go very, very much deeper than simply a view that special category status was something rather more comfortable than the normal prison regime – although that is certainly true. It goes much wider than another thing that I know worried the prison authorities and, I suppose, worried me quite a bit, which was that special category status made it very easy indeed for the chain of command outside the prisons to be extended to within it. If you in effect push your prison guards to the periphery, it then becomes very much easier for a highly determined paramilitary command structure outside then to get its way with perpetuating that command structure inside. But above all, I think what lay behind this was a concern that the activity of the IRA, and the Provisional IRA, should by all means possible be seen as a kind of war, a just war in which the forces of the British and the RUC, a war which ultimately would be won and at the end of which prisoners of war would be released. There was that element of hope in that situation. There was always that element of, if you like, justification for what was being done by having it regarded as war rather than as crime. And I’m sure at the time you would find many, many references in ‘An Phoblacht’, and others, to the criminalisation policy of the British and I, if I were a senior commander of the Provisionals, would not like that because it would seem to be saying rather a lot about how what they were doing was viewed, as it was, crime. So, getting back to what you said about assumptions, I had it as a pretty firm assumption that that was where the springs of the increasing level of protest came from and because that’s where it came from, the demands could not be met. I also happen to believe, though obviously I cannot know, I also happen to believe that senior people in the IRA and elsewhere understood that very clearly as well. Earlier on I drew a distinction between those people in the prison and those outside it. Again, I don’t know this, but I’ve always suspected that the command structure outside the prisons did not want a hunger strike because the protest that was already going on was, from their point of view, an extremely effective propaganda platform. The dirty protest was an appalling thing. It was fairly easy to represent it as if it were the fault of the British authorities and to arouse very understandable sympathy about the conditions in which these prisoners were being expected to live. I’m bound to say, it seemed to me likely that the IRA authorities would have been happy to have seen a continuation of that situation almost indefinitely and that by going to a hunger strike, while, of course, there must, I suppose to some, have appeared the possibility that it would be successful, that is to say, that the government would actually concede a return to special category status, the possibility must always have been present that it would not be, in which case there was no other level of protest in the prisons left. Now, of course, the hunger strike having been declared, there could be no question then that the whole apparatus of the Provisional IRA and the INLA was swung in behind to support the hunger strikers and that’s how it emerged.

P.O’M: So, the assumption would have been that at the time of the first hunger strike, it was a hunger strike initiated by the prisoners themselves?

JB: Yes, that certainly was my own view, that the thrust for the first hunger strike, and subsequently the second, came decisively from inside the prison. As I say, it’s my own assumption. I don’t know this because I’ve not talked to the people concerned about it, but my assumption certainly would have been that the wellsprings for this came from inside the prison. It’s very easy to understand why it should have, because after all it was they who were having to support these conditions, it was they who could see that over a period of years it wasn’t actually getting anywhere in terms of satisfaction of the demands and one could quite see why from within the prisons there should have been a mood which said that we must raise this level of protest and bring it to an end. It also seems to me quite possible for the prisoners inside the Maze to have misjudged how the British government might react. It is conceivable that they were deliberately misled on that though I don’t know, but I can certainly see how it would be easier for them to have misjudged it.

P.O’M: In terms of the first hunger strike there was a forewarning. I mean, again Cardinal O’Fiach’s three weeks and Bishop Daly had said that the prisoners were planning to go on a hunger strike and my understanding from talking with them and reading newspaper accounts of the time that they were of the view after talking with the prisoners, those on the dirty protest at that point, that had the demand to wear their own clothes been met, that the situation would have been defused.

JB: Yes, I’m well aware of that view, of both those views. As to the first, that a hunger strike was coming, it was not, of course, the first time in the history of the dirty protest that hunger strikes had been threatened. In this particular case, the Cardinal and the Bishop were right. I had only, as I say, literally been there about two or three weeks by the time this broke and therefore I don’t know that my opinion as to whether or not a different judgement should have been taken by the NIO is worth anything. But all I would say, however, is that I myself would not have been surprised if the view had been held that a hunger strike was unlikely for precisely the reasons I’ve given you. That it was a final throw, which of course carried with it the possibility that it might win; but clearly also carried the possibility that it might not, and that the consequences – I don’t like talking about winning and not winning in these circumstances, so forgive that – but the possibility was clearly that that form of extreme pressure would be resisted and the consequences for the IRA and INLA of that happening were in fact quite serious. Therefore, it always seemed to me a wholly rational view to take, that a hunger strike would constantly be threatened but never actually put into effect. Now, in fact, it was put into effect very shortly after I arrived, so that raises a second question. Would the whole thing have been avoided if the British government had conceded the wearing of own clothes? I have to say that on that I simply disagree with the Cardinal and the Bishop because I feel myself that while the wearing of own clothes had enormous symbolic importance in all this, it was one, but only one, and arguably by no means the most important of the five demands. I personally would rate the demand for free association as being of much higher importance. I believe, therefore, that if the British government had said, “Alright” – at the time the hunger strike was threatened – “you may have your own clothes,” against the background of the case for the amelioration of prison conditions having been quite decisively thrown out by the European Court, there were no humanitarian grounds for this change whatsoever, for the British government to have conceded own clothes in those circumstances would, in my view, not only not have brought a final end to the prison protest – because I believe the prisoners would have still wanted free association and the other appurtenances of special category status – I believe myself that the prisoners might well have been encouraged to believe that by threatening further hunger strikes they would have got the remaining demands. So, my own judgement would be that at the very most, the granting of own clothes would have, on the whole, encouraged the prisoners to believe that their confrontation would be successful. In the meantime, it would have run the risk in the rest of the Northern Ireland community that, confronted with this sort of threat, British governments will always back down, which would then encourage other people to make the same kind of threat. Now, I’m putting my judgement against those of the Cardinal and the Bishop and that is a presumption because they know the province. But that would be my answer and those would be my reasons for giving it.

P.O’M:  From the moment the hunger strikes began, this is in 1980, from October 1980 until December 1980, were there any attempts to negotiate – I’m using that word very loosely – a settlement?

JB:  No, there were not. There were a number of opportunities taken, if you like, or even created, to remind the prisoners and everybody else who might be interested as to what the prison conditions were that were available to them should they come off the protest. And I can think of at least one very extensive handout that was made available to the press and to the prisoners and to everybody spelling out in very great detail what the regime in the Maze was and what would happen, what the position would be if they came off. But negotiating in terms of sitting down with the prisoners or anybody else for that matter and saying, “Well, if you do this, we will do that”, no. Because it wasn’t – and I think this is also quite important – a negotiating situation in the sense that, say, an industrial dispute is a negotiating situation. I certainly did not see it in those terms and I don’t think anybody else in a responsible situation did either.

P.O’M: Well, did the government deal with intermediaries as to… ascertain what the prisoners might find an acceptable compromise, or was it simply accepted that the prisoners would not compromise?

JB: No, I think again, two answers to that. I think the government’s position was to lay out very clearly what was available, which, I may say, many of the people on the dirty protest had never actually experienced. They’d been on protest from the moment they came in and therefore were subject to various kinds of forfeit of privileges and so on. The government’s position was consistently to remind people what the facts were about the conditions in the Maze because there was a great deal of misrepresentation about the H-Blocks being a hell-hole. Quite the contrary. The conditions that were available – there are no comfortable prisons – the conditions there compared immensely favourably with prison conditions anywhere else in the UK. There was a major effort made to make sure that everybody who ought to know, and preferably who wanted to know, did know what the conditions were like and therefore what was available to prisoners should they come off the protest. Secondly, and perhaps rather more controversially, the government quite deliberately took the position that people of genuinely goodwill should have access to the prison, not as negotiators or interlocutors or intermediaries or anything like that, but simply so that independent persons of high-standing should themselves have a chance to talk both to us in government and to the prisoners and to that extent, therefore, be in a position to represent views of the one to the other, but not to act as negotiators. Now, of course, to the extent that the prisoners talked to whoever it was – the Red Cross or any other body who went in – we would always take a great deal of trouble to be debriefed on what they had to say and we would listen extremely carefully and in particular for any sign that there was anything we could do cosmetically or otherwise to make it easier to bring the hunger strike to an end. But there was no question at all, either of direct or indirect negotiations with the prisoners – that wasn’t the name of the game.

P.O’M: The first hunger strike, in fact, collapsed quite suddenly when Sean McKenna, his eyesight began to fail. Let me go back and tell you what some of the prisoners that I’ve talked to have said. That somebody came from the Northern Ireland Office with a document, even though the document was the same document that was released later by Humphrey Atkins, that assurances were given that once the hunger strike was over that the government would be conciliatory.

JB: Well, I don’t know who they’re talking of. They’re probably talking about me. I went down to the prison, the only Northern Ireland official, I think to do that. I’m now trying to remember how many times I did go down there and when. I think the only Northern Ireland Office official that went down to the Maze in the context of the first hunger strike was myself. I went down and saw the seven and I had with me the text of the document describing really just what I’ve said to you about the conditions in the prison.

P.O’M:  Is this the document that would have been released…?

JB: It’s about December, isn’t it? It’s a very long press statement.

P.O’M:  December 19th?

JB: No, it’s a very long one.

P.O’M: December 4th?

JB: It’s that one, I think.

Blelloch reads through the document.

JB: No, I don’t think it was, funnily enough. There were so many. This was, I think, produced very early in December. The one I’m talking about is slightly earlier than this. This is a press statement that was – I mean, it says what it says – that’s what was released and it was, in fact, put into the prisons on the Thursday night which, I think, actually was the night they called it off. Isn’t that right?

P.O’M: That’s correct.

JB: I think that’s right. I can’t now remember how that document was got into the prison but I think it was just delivered down to the prisons for issue to the prisoners. This is on the night that McKenna, that it was called off. No, I’m talking about an earlier document which I think pre-dates that by a week or ten days. It was freely available and it was published and my memory is that it was a very full statement about the conditions in the prison and how the government would approach a post-hunger strike situation. I went down to the prison to talk to the seven prisoners who had had that document for some hours before I arrived and I was there, really, to say to them, look, if you’ve got any questions about this I’ll answer them. To make absolutely sure that there was no question of private assurances, my memory is that the prison governor was present throughout as was one of the warders, so there was absolutely no question of my or anybody else from the NIO going into corners to do deals. Of course I was asked how would the government behave and I said, well, it’s in there and I am here to try to persuade you to take up this offer. As to the government being conciliatory afterwards, the first thing that of course did happen after the strike was over was the government implemented a decision which it had been working on ever since the announcement was made, actually to get into the hands of the prisoners the civilian-type clothing which had been agreed – not that they owned, that we owned – that we should get into the prisoners’ hands the civilian-type clothing that government had already decided should be introduced and which we had been procuring over the months of the strike. So, in terms of being conciliatory, at least that gesture was made and made very promptly.

P.O’M: I suppose, what I’m getting at is, there was a period between the 19th December and the date on which the second hunger strike was announced, that would be the 7th February, when there was uncertainty, some confusion at least on the prisoners’ side. I think on the 23rd January a number of relatives handed in clothing which was accepted and then, it was on a weekend, the prisoners weren’t allowed to wear it and those that had become conforming smashed the furniture in their cells and became un-conforming again. I suppose my question would be that since after the ending of the second hunger strike the issue of clothing was conceded, why could the government not have made that gesture after they had effectively won on the first hunger strike? Could the second hunger strike have been avoided?

JB: Well, I’ve given you my answer to that. I think the answer to that is no. The second hunger strike could not have been avoided in my view by anything the government did on clothes. That is my personal judgement because I think the contents of the five demands comprehended a great deal more than that. The comment, I suppose you would get is, well, yes, but if the government had been generous at that time, then, you know, public sympathy would have swung behind the government and all the rest of it. It probably would, but I don’t think it would have done so permanently. I think that had the government done something more about the issue of civilian-type than it did then I am quite sure that the impact of that would have been temporary and a hunger strike would then have been mounted, as I think it would, for the remainder of the five demands. Then, as I said earlier, we should have been in just as difficult a position as we were in October 1980, or, arguably, more difficult because a concession on one of the five demands having been made, then what are your grounds – moral, practical, whatever – for resisting the others? As to the difference between January 1981 and October 1980, again there was a very complicated sequence of events at both periods. But my memory is that there was indeed a period of confusion within the prison as to what the precise circumstances were in which the first hunger strike had been brought to an end, and I have no doubt that there were those with a very strong vested interest in putting it about that the government had made some kind of sub rosa [secret] deal here which the hunger strike having been ended, they were now reneging on. I personally find that an extraordinarily, implausible position because it’s a renege that was so obviously going to be transparent if it had occurred. What instead we found ourselves in, as I recall it, was a situation in which the first hunger strike had been called off, the government had implemented what it had said it was going to do about the issue of civilian clothes, civilian-type clothes, that it was always the position that the wearing of own clothes was a privilege and not a right, to be available to prisoners who were conforming with the regime, and while people did come off the dirty protest at that stage, they were still not conforming. In particular, they were refusing to work. Now, what we tried to do in January and early February was to take a series of carefully graduated steps to see whether we could wind the level of protest down and accompany that with relaxations of the level of punishment imposed, mainly to do with relaxing the number of days forfeit. Our objective in this was to try to move the protesting population from a condition of protest to one of conformity by very easy steps. Maybe we were wrong to do that, but that’s what we did and we got to the point at which the next move would have been for the prisoners to conform by agreeing to work on the Monday which would then have entitled them to wear own clothes. Now, what I would like to have done…

P.O’M: To wear their own clothing in the evening?

JB: Yes, but the wearing of their own clothing in the evening, as I recall it, was a privilege, not a right, and it was a privilege afforded to fully-conforming prisoners, withdrawn as part of the complex of punishments available. At the stage that we are talking about my memory is that while we had succeeded in winding down the level of protest, we had not wound it down to the point at which the prisoners had agreed to work in particular and therefore become fully conforming. My memory also is that the previous weekend – the first opportunity when this would have occurred, I think, would have been the Monday – and my memory is that on the previous Saturday, fairly well arranged, a number of prisoners’ families brought with them their own clothes which were deposited in the prison. But the prisoners were not allowed to wear them because they were not conforming prisoners and, of course, then they did, in fact, refuse to work. Now, at that point, they smashed up the furniture and, in effect, the protest was fully back on again. My recollection is that at the time, we put out a series of notices directed mainly at the prisoners, explaining very carefully what was going to happen next and why. But the key element of this was that the wearing of own clothes still remains under the prison regime a privilege, not a right, and a privilege afforded only to prisoners who are fully conforming. I’m pretty sure that it was a tactic of the prisoners to try to get into a position in which they actually could lay their hands on their own clothes, would then put them on, invite us to remove them by force, but at the same time refuse to work and that was a confrontation that we were anxious to avoid. It’s all a bit complex, but the interesting thing about that January period, as I say, is that it was our initiative, not the prisoners’, which sought to try to wind down the protest and it failed.

Sir John Blelloch, who retired from public life in 2007, was Permanent Under Secretary of State at the Northern Ireland Office from 1988 to 1990, having previously served as a Deputy Secretary in that Office from 1980 to 1982, while resident in the Six Counties. Between these appointments he held the posts of Deputy Secretary (Policy) and then Second Permanent Under Secretary at the MOD. After the Belfast [Good Friday] Agreement he sat as Joint Chairman, alongside South African lawyer Brian Currin, of the Sentence Review Commission which was involved in the release of political prisoners, including former hunger strikers and hundreds of former blanket men.

Sourced from the Bobby Sands Trust website


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A day-by-day account of the events of early July, 1981.

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