PHARISEES MUST ACCEPT WE ARE ALL RESPONSIBLE
Pharisees must accept we are all responsible
Roy Garland
ON MONDAY
LAST week, in the aftermath of the Omagh outrage, UKUP leader Robert McCartney said: "ethically and morally, those responsible for Saturday's slaughter are no different from Sinn Fein/IRA". He accused Tony Blair of trying to distance the latter from the horror of Omagh.
I would largely agree with Mr McCartney's assessment and assume that the point he is trying to make is that Tony Blair's response to the Omagh mass murders seemed hypocritical. I would also assume that Bob McCartney would accept that attitudes towards the violence of other republicans, nationalists, loyalists and unionists, involves the same kind of immorality and hypocrisy.
However, I would also assume that Mr McCartney accepts that there is some difference between those who continue to resort to horrific forms of terrorism, and those who seek to bring violence to an end. The main paramilitary groupings, for example, are on ceasefire and, in my view, have shown great courage, ingenuity and persistence in seeking to ensure that we have a final end to violence.
I would also imagine that Robert McCartney would accept that, even though words can be as murderous in their effect as physical weapons, there is a difference. Those who encouraged paramilitaries not to desist from violence, are also different from those who plant bombs. However, when we look at young impressionable people driven by the words and actions of others, and compare that with armchair generals who direct operations or inspire extreme attitudes, it is difficult to see who is most to blame.
If we are honestly prepared to seek the truth, culpability, in one way or another, will be found to be widespread in this society and beyond. In fact, Northern Ireland was born in violence and we, as unionists, have often taken a pride in the events surrounding 1912, not to mention 1690, and other dates associated with violence. In 1964, Ian Paisley actually celebrated the 50th anniversary of the 1914 gun running at an Ulster Hall rally in Belfast. He was following in the footsteps of the Ulster Unionists and the Orange Order who in 1962 remembered with pride the violent activities of 1912. I was there on both occasions and shared in the sense of pride.
Irish nationalists, however, would have no reason to gloat over the hypocrisy of unionism. The Free State was also created in bloody strife. The early days of the state saw a vicious civil war in which brother fought brother in one of the most tragic episodes of Irish history. The physical force tradition of militant republicanism has continued down the years to foment mayhem.
Our relative peace today is to some extent built upon violent foundations. Is that not what all nationalisms are about? Is it not also true that when certain atrocities are committed, we can even discover deep urges within us wishing to take revenge on the perpetrators?
Jesus told a well known story about a wicked tax collector and a good living Pharisee who both went into the temple to pray. The Pharisee thanked God that he was not like other people, who did so many bad things. The tax collector in contrast beat his breast in sorrow saying "God be merciful to me, a sinner". Jesus then said it was the tax collector, rather than the good Pharisee, who would be right with God.
It seems to me to be an important paradox that our living in relative peace has depended, at least at some points in history, on some form of violence. Unless and until we begin to accept that the years of violent strife through which we have lived were not solely the responsibility of others, whether that be the IRA, loyalists, the British or Irish governments, unionists or nationalists, there could be little prospect of ending the chaos.
Even the legal system itself, which is designed to protect us from the effects of criminal violence, has not always lived up to its high calling. Witness the notorious injustices perpetrated by the legal system over the years.
This ambiguity is not confined to Northern Ireland but seems to be a feature of societies the world over. This means that it would be wrong to scapegoat this province, as has often been done. It would also be wrong to deny that faults exist within the structures.
We, as unionists, have been too slow to admit the need for change. Nationalists have perhaps been too quick to point the finger. We have all been too slow to support the peace process because it necessarily entails a messy, uncertain and bumpy road.
Sometimes we have naively expected peace to arrive ready made and cut to size, but peace has to be worked at and shaped. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the ambiguous pacifist who engaged in a plot to assassinate Hitler observed, peace has to be dared. There can be no peace without risk-taking. A cheap peace is impossible. Someone has to pay the price. In the past summer it was the three little children in Ballymoney, more recently it was the 28 men, women and children killed and many others injured at Omagh.
These victims of our inhumanity and savagery have opened a door to real change. The cost in young and older lives has been enormous, but we must remember Bosnia and other trouble spots to see the further potential horrendous costs involved in human conflicts. People say that such folly is not possible in this part of Christendom. Really? How much further must we plumb the depths of despair and wickedness before realising our folly?
It is for me very significant that the first real glimmers of hope in the 1990s came, not from the clergy or the politicians, but from the paramilitaries themselves. No one should delude themselves by thinking that this was easy or that the motivation was entirely cynical. Rather it is a story of almost Biblical proportions. It was the self-confessed sinners who initiated the new beginnings of real change. They could do so because they knew they were sinners. The righteous could never see their own sin, but could only stand by in resentment as the prodigals returned to their homes in sorrow.
It is my experience that we have much to gain by engaging with those who once faced the abyss, both as perpetrators and as victims. While it is essential that we have police, courts and prisons for our protection, we need to remember that there is always ambiguity in this. Had we not created and sustained our historic conflict, there would have been no politically-motivated prisoners to incarcerate.
Today, we have buried our dead. In a sense they gave their today for our tomorrow. Their deaths have perhaps brought us to our senses and, as others have suggested, the best possible memorial would be the promotion of peace, justice, inclusion and hope for better things.
I am reminded of the words of a late friend of mine, Role Kaptein, who expressed scepticism at the idea that human beings have the capacity to build just and inclusive structures. He was convinced that we will always have our victims, just as Jesus said we would have the poor with us always. It was his view that opportunities for new beginnings would be given to us, rather than manufactured by us. Clearly, a new door has been opened. It has been opened at great cost. We neglect the new opportunities at our peril.
Roy Garland
ON MONDAY
LAST week, in the aftermath of the Omagh outrage, UKUP leader Robert McCartney said: "ethically and morally, those responsible for Saturday's slaughter are no different from Sinn Fein/IRA". He accused Tony Blair of trying to distance the latter from the horror of Omagh.
I would largely agree with Mr McCartney's assessment and assume that the point he is trying to make is that Tony Blair's response to the Omagh mass murders seemed hypocritical. I would also assume that Bob McCartney would accept that attitudes towards the violence of other republicans, nationalists, loyalists and unionists, involves the same kind of immorality and hypocrisy.
However, I would also assume that Mr McCartney accepts that there is some difference between those who continue to resort to horrific forms of terrorism, and those who seek to bring violence to an end. The main paramilitary groupings, for example, are on ceasefire and, in my view, have shown great courage, ingenuity and persistence in seeking to ensure that we have a final end to violence.
I would also imagine that Robert McCartney would accept that, even though words can be as murderous in their effect as physical weapons, there is a difference. Those who encouraged paramilitaries not to desist from violence, are also different from those who plant bombs. However, when we look at young impressionable people driven by the words and actions of others, and compare that with armchair generals who direct operations or inspire extreme attitudes, it is difficult to see who is most to blame.
If we are honestly prepared to seek the truth, culpability, in one way or another, will be found to be widespread in this society and beyond. In fact, Northern Ireland was born in violence and we, as unionists, have often taken a pride in the events surrounding 1912, not to mention 1690, and other dates associated with violence. In 1964, Ian Paisley actually celebrated the 50th anniversary of the 1914 gun running at an Ulster Hall rally in Belfast. He was following in the footsteps of the Ulster Unionists and the Orange Order who in 1962 remembered with pride the violent activities of 1912. I was there on both occasions and shared in the sense of pride.
Irish nationalists, however, would have no reason to gloat over the hypocrisy of unionism. The Free State was also created in bloody strife. The early days of the state saw a vicious civil war in which brother fought brother in one of the most tragic episodes of Irish history. The physical force tradition of militant republicanism has continued down the years to foment mayhem.
Our relative peace today is to some extent built upon violent foundations. Is that not what all nationalisms are about? Is it not also true that when certain atrocities are committed, we can even discover deep urges within us wishing to take revenge on the perpetrators?
Jesus told a well known story about a wicked tax collector and a good living Pharisee who both went into the temple to pray. The Pharisee thanked God that he was not like other people, who did so many bad things. The tax collector in contrast beat his breast in sorrow saying "God be merciful to me, a sinner". Jesus then said it was the tax collector, rather than the good Pharisee, who would be right with God.
It seems to me to be an important paradox that our living in relative peace has depended, at least at some points in history, on some form of violence. Unless and until we begin to accept that the years of violent strife through which we have lived were not solely the responsibility of others, whether that be the IRA, loyalists, the British or Irish governments, unionists or nationalists, there could be little prospect of ending the chaos.
Even the legal system itself, which is designed to protect us from the effects of criminal violence, has not always lived up to its high calling. Witness the notorious injustices perpetrated by the legal system over the years.
This ambiguity is not confined to Northern Ireland but seems to be a feature of societies the world over. This means that it would be wrong to scapegoat this province, as has often been done. It would also be wrong to deny that faults exist within the structures.
We, as unionists, have been too slow to admit the need for change. Nationalists have perhaps been too quick to point the finger. We have all been too slow to support the peace process because it necessarily entails a messy, uncertain and bumpy road.
Sometimes we have naively expected peace to arrive ready made and cut to size, but peace has to be worked at and shaped. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the ambiguous pacifist who engaged in a plot to assassinate Hitler observed, peace has to be dared. There can be no peace without risk-taking. A cheap peace is impossible. Someone has to pay the price. In the past summer it was the three little children in Ballymoney, more recently it was the 28 men, women and children killed and many others injured at Omagh.
These victims of our inhumanity and savagery have opened a door to real change. The cost in young and older lives has been enormous, but we must remember Bosnia and other trouble spots to see the further potential horrendous costs involved in human conflicts. People say that such folly is not possible in this part of Christendom. Really? How much further must we plumb the depths of despair and wickedness before realising our folly?
It is for me very significant that the first real glimmers of hope in the 1990s came, not from the clergy or the politicians, but from the paramilitaries themselves. No one should delude themselves by thinking that this was easy or that the motivation was entirely cynical. Rather it is a story of almost Biblical proportions. It was the self-confessed sinners who initiated the new beginnings of real change. They could do so because they knew they were sinners. The righteous could never see their own sin, but could only stand by in resentment as the prodigals returned to their homes in sorrow.
It is my experience that we have much to gain by engaging with those who once faced the abyss, both as perpetrators and as victims. While it is essential that we have police, courts and prisons for our protection, we need to remember that there is always ambiguity in this. Had we not created and sustained our historic conflict, there would have been no politically-motivated prisoners to incarcerate.
Today, we have buried our dead. In a sense they gave their today for our tomorrow. Their deaths have perhaps brought us to our senses and, as others have suggested, the best possible memorial would be the promotion of peace, justice, inclusion and hope for better things.
I am reminded of the words of a late friend of mine, Role Kaptein, who expressed scepticism at the idea that human beings have the capacity to build just and inclusive structures. He was convinced that we will always have our victims, just as Jesus said we would have the poor with us always. It was his view that opportunities for new beginnings would be given to us, rather than manufactured by us. Clearly, a new door has been opened. It has been opened at great cost. We neglect the new opportunities at our peril.
Further Information
Publisher: THE IRISH NEWS
Ref: IN/0193
Published Date: 24-Aug-98
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