DD Papers
The Media and Intrastate Conflict in Northern Ireland
Robin
Wilson
a)
The Media System in Northern Ireland
The most obvious sight that
strikes a foreign visitor to a Belfast newsagency is the number of titles
on display. Closer inspection reveals that genuinely foreignas against
British or Irishpapers are conspicuous by their absence. But 15 titles
are daily available: three Northern Irish, two southern Irish and 11 British.
And Sunday brings a further two Northern Irish, three southern Irish and
10 British titles.
It should not, of course, be
assumed from this that all are of equal consequence. According to the
latest Northern Ireland Readership Survey (1), 897,000 people, almost
three-quarters of the adult population of 1.249 million, read at least
one paid-for paper daily. But just 2 per cent of adults read the 'Irish'ie
Dublin-basedpapers.
In part this is due to price:
value-added tax is applied to papers in the republic, which is not the
case in the UK. But it also reveals not only how hostile northern unionists
are to the south but how northern is the 'Irishness' of Northern
Ireland's nationalists. What Germans refer to as Die Wand im Kopf
is very much a reality in Ireland, with considerable consequences for
lack of mutual understanding. (It goes without saying that readership
of the northern papers in the republic is minuscule.)
Nor indeed do northerners of
either main religious persuasion read mainly northern papers in the morning.
The Protestant News Letter (even though distributed in Belfast
free) is read by only 19 per cent of adults in total, its Catholic counterpart
the Irish News by 13 per cent. By contrast, the Sun is read
by 22 per cent, the Daily Mirror by 16 per cent, and there is a
further tail of mid-market and up-market British dailies. We shall have
more to say later about the tabloids in terms of their influence on British
attitudes to the conflict (section e).
Things are different in the
evening, where the Belfast Telegraph can exploit a monopoly of
the non-broadcast media market. Thirty-four per cent of adults read it,
though many buy it for its advertising and other services, instead of
(or in addition to) its news coverage, which lags behind the evening TV
news.
Of the regional titles, only
the Irish News is genuinely so in ownership: it is controlled by
a substantial Belfast Catholic businessman. The struggling News Letter,
owned and run by Captain Oscar Henderson, scion of the unionist establishment,
was sold in 1990 after 194 years in the family to a consortium whose main
backer was English, but which was registered in Northern Ireland and which
put up a former Stormont minister as chair (2). This half-way house ended
in 1996 when it was sold again to Mirror Group Newspapers. The chief executive
of MGN is, interestingly, a Northern Ireland Protestant; the News Letter
editor, Geoff Martin, whose journalistic career began in the local press
in the region, claims he has genuine autonomy. The Belfast Telegraph,
formerly owned by the Canadian-based Thomson Regional Newspapers, was
sold to Trinity Holdings, again an English-based company, in 1995.
If the 'external' ownership
of the Belfast Telegraph and the News Letter are reflective
of the respective liberal and conservative unionisms they broadly espouse,
the relative performance of the News Letter and the Irish News
is a testament to the relative demography and self-confidence of Northern
Ireland's two main religious communities. Figures from the Audit Bureau
of Circulation for the last six months of 1996 place Belfast Telegraph
sales at 129,760, the Irish News at 47,420 and the News
Letter at 34,630. This does not do justice to the last title, of course,
because of the freesheet distribution in Belfast. But it does highlight
just how much the Irish Newslike the community it articulateshas
progressed, given that Catholics still only constitute (depending on a
number of assumptions) around 43 per cent of the population. In 1985,
the News Letter was still a nose ahead of its Catholic counterpart.
The News Letter has
to compete in the mornings with the powerful British tabloids, to which
an increasingly nervous Protestant community has culturally turned over
the years. Just 6 per cent of 15-24 year-old Protestants are now prepared
to pay for the News Letter, a worrying portent for its future market.
Formerly a broadsheet like the Irish News, in 1984 it went tabloid
itself in an unsuccessful attempt to turn the tide. On the other hand,
the Irish News recently won, for the second successive year, the
Newspaper Society award across Britain and Ireland for best sales increase
in the 40-80,000 circulation category.
Hugh Lundy's analysis of the
three papers' coverage of the early phase of the 'troubles', though now
dated, remains a reasonable snapshot:
... both the Irish News
and the News Letter gave the most biased reporting of the events
in question and tended to reflect the prejudices of their respective
communities. However, in general it was perhaps the News Letter
of the two papers which displayed the most bias ... The Belfast Telegraph
on the other hand was more impartial but ... tended to toe the official
line.
More recently, the cultural
commentator Edna Longley has presented a similar picture: "The News
Letter is the ghost of a dead [unionist] establishment. The Irish
News, though more diverse than of yore, retains Pro Fide et Patria
in its masthead. The Belfast Telegraph rises above it all into
a kind of transcendental consumerism." And she adds: "Both sets
of [British and Irish] 'national' newspapers circulate, but much Northern
Irish experience eludes their metropolitan biases and sovereign assumptions."
Television coverage comes primarily
from the UK terrestrial networks, BBC and Independent Television. BBC
has a regional organisation in Northern Ireland, BBC NI, and there is
a regional independent station, UTV. Both show mainly network programmes,
but both have autonomous news and current affairs structures; indeed,
BBC network coverage of Northern Ireland would depend very heavily on
the BBC NI news-gathering operation.
Lord Reith appointed the first
station director in Belfast in 1926. The postholder, Gerald Beadle, was
anxious to ingratiate himself with the then recently established unionist
government. In March 1927, he wrote to Lord Reith, saying: "I am
sure that our position here will be strengthened immensely if we can persuade
the Northern Government to look upon us as their mouthpiece." Matters
are rather different now: the current BBC controller Northern Ireland
is a Donegal Catholic.
UTV was formerly managed by
Brum Henderson, brother of the former chair of the News Letter.
Both these robustly unionist figures have departed the scene; the chair
and biggest UTV shareholder is now a prominent Catholic businessman, John
B McGuckian. It attracts around 43 per cent of the Northern Ireland TV
audience, as against 29 per cent for BBC1, whose viewers tend to be more
up-market.
A telling contrast between
the two stations was presented by Damian Smyth, reviewing their coverage
of the publication of the joint framework document for a political settlement
published by the British and Irish governments in February 1995:
UTV is tabloid television
... But it's real. After the Framework Document was published, the two
stations held studio discussions. BBC invited the great and the good.
It was awfully boring. UTV invited ordinary people. They all started
arguing. It made you cringe. Yet it was alive.
The two stations have evening
flagship news/current affairs programmes. UTV has the hour-long Live
at Six; BBC has tried (unsuccessfully) to compete with a revamped
half-hour programme, Newsline 6.30. BBC NI claims a weekly average
viewership of 160,000 for the latter, only about half the average claimed
by UTV for the former.
The Irish state broadcaster,
Radio Telefis Eireann, is available in Northern Ireland but only to about
one third of the half-million or so homes with televisions in the regionand
of those, only a fraction (5 per cent of the audience), overwhelmingly
Catholic, would avail of it. By contrast, UTV (formerly Ulster Televisionit
stressed the abbreviated form to remove the somewhat anti-southern 'Ulster'
from its title) has marketed itself strongly in the Republic of Ireland,
now claiming to reach 70 per cent of the one million or so homes with
television there and securing 16 per cent of the peak viewing audience.
"It should be called Southern Television now," a unionist politician
has complained.
But, perhaps arising from this
distance, a former RTE controller, Muiris Mac Conghail, offers a penetrating
perspective on Northern Ireland and British TV coverage:
With some honourable exceptions
much of the programming content from within Northern Ireland and the
contributions made by services from the neighbouring island are constructed
on a 'war zone' footing ... Programming about life in Northern Ireland
does not figure in the day to day scheduling of the so-called mainland
channels. News and current affairs coverage relate for the most part
to violence and terrorism and to political developments or lack of such,
normally in the context of the British and Irish Government actions
and negotiations. Unionist politicians are for the most part portrayed
and interviewed with impatience as intransigent and difficult. Economic,
religious and social affairs in Northern Ireland rarely get a 'look-in'
on British national news bulletins ... British broadcasters and print
journalists, on the whole, regard Northern Ireland genuinely as 'outre-mer':
Algeria.
One of the difficulties in
resolving the Northern Ireland problem is that a largely provincial media
corps is required to cover one of the most internationalised regional
conflicts in the world: not only does it directly involve the British
and Irish governments because of its geographical position, but it has
also inevitably drawn in the wider institutions of the European Union
and, in particular, via the Irish diaspora, the United States.
The resources of media organisations
in Northern Ireland, and the education and training of journalists in
the region, are simply unequal to this challenge. British and Irish newspapers
rely on stringers, single correspondents or very modest offices in Belfasteven
agency copy. And domestic journalists in the regional media, if trained
at all, are largely products of a non-graduate-based system which has
been associated with considerable union, and some employer, dissatisfaction
for several years. Only in the coming academic year is there to be finally
established a postgraduate diploma in newspaper journalism and a masters
in journalism studies at the University of Ulster; hitherto, many able
trainees from Northern Ireland have pursued postgraduate qualifications
in Dublin or in Britain, in most cases not returning to the region to
find employment.
This deficit in education and
training has militated against the critical role which journalists play
in a robustly democratic society. One senior Northern Ireland Office information
officer sneeringly told David Miller:
Local journalists, with the
best will in the world, are simply local journalists ... and so briefings
for local journalists were simply about the nitty gritty of everyday
secretary of state and ministerial life and there was never any deep
political probing ... I haven't met one single Northern Ireland
journalist who was worth five minutes of my time.
One benchmark for the standard
of BBC Northern Ireland, for instance, would be not its competitor UTV
but its southern state counterpart, RTE. In January 1996, I was invited
by BBC NI to watch and listen to a week of its news and current affairs
output. I concluded: "Even given resource discrepancies, the unavoidable
reality is that BBC NI falls short of RTE in news and current affairs
by a long way."
While the provincialism of
the Northern Ireland media corps militates against an adequate grasp of
the complexity of the conflict, the universal subordination of women in
the media has a particular significance in this region. As in such violent
nationality conflicts everywhere, men are overwhelmingly the protagonists,
yet this is entirely taken for granted, and the relationship between masculinism
and violence very rarely probed. On the one hand,
the powerful define what
is news. The media look to government, party leaders, prominent
business people, the police and the churchesto make the news and to
make the statements that can be treated as 'authoritative' in news reports.
With a few exceptions, this élite in Northern Ireland consists
of men.
On the other hand, events "among
the most momentous in the history of this State", since the ceasefires
of 1994, "have been reported largely by men":
Often, you can be the only
women journalist at a major press conference or political event. At
most, there will be three or four female faces in a crowd of up to 50
reporters.
A recent study has estimated
that only 24 per cent of editorial staff on Belfast newspapers are women,
in line with the UK as a whole, and that they occupy only 13 per cent
of management positions. Thirty-seven per cent of editorial staff in news
and current affairs at BBC Northern Ireland in Belfast were women in 1995,
and women hold only one of the five senior management posts.
Unfortunately, there is an
all-too-close correspondence between the male-dominated world of political
and 'security' correspondents in particular and the adversarial political
culture which they inhabit.
b)
The Media and the Constitution of Division
Anthony Giddens describes well
how cultural diversity can be a source or richness and vibrancy or of
fear and violence. As he puts it, "Difference can be a means of fusion
of horizons; what is a potentially virtuous circle, however, can in some
circumstances become degenerate ... Wherever fundamentalism takes hold,
whether it be religious, ethnic, nationalist or gender fundamentalism,
degenerate spirals of communication threaten." And, with an eye to
Bosnia though he could equally have been referring to Northern Ireland,
he points out that "once conflict begins, and hate starts to feed
on hate, those who were good neighbours can end as the bitterest of enemies".
Sometimes, such 'degenerate
spirals of communication' are face-to-face. At sectarian interfaces in
Northern Ireland, intercommunal riots have seen segregation entrenched
and the building of 'peace walls' so high that communities physically
can not see each other. Yet for the vast majority such spirals have taken
place in and through the media. How does this happen?
Mark Thompson notes how by
early 1993 27 staff of Radio-TV Sarajevo had been killed. By contrast,
not one professional journalist has been killed during Northern Ireland's
three decades of conflict, though one was badly wounded in a loyalist
assassination attempt and another suffered a nasty facial injury from
a plastic bullet.
Which makes efforts in Northern
Ireland to ensure truth is not the first casualty of conflict seem pretty
small potatoes. But Belfast journalists reading this survey [by Thompson]
should think twice before they refer to 'the nationalist community'
or 'loyalist areas'. It has been such stereotyping media references,
to 'Serb forces', 'the Muslim government' and a lot worse, which have
helped render the ex-Yugoslav war so murderous and intractable.
I formed this view from experience
of working as a sub-editor on both the News Letter and the Irish
News during the 1980s, as well as of having to prepare style sheets
with the cross-sectarian audience of Fortnight in mind when I was
editor there.
The penetration of the Belfast
Telegraph, with its moderate unionist editorial stance, is only moderately
skewed towards the majority community: it reaches 38 per cent of Protestants
as against 27 per cent of Catholics. Much more striking is that just 2
per cent of Catholics read the paid-for News Letter (and only 5
per cent more read the one that is received free in Belfast), and just
1 per cent of Protestants find the Irish News appealing.
The News Letter insists
on describing the Republic of Ireland as 'Eire', thereby underlying its
status as a 'foreign' country in unionist minds. (The state is in fact
officially referred to as Eire as well as Ireland in the 1937 constitution,
and its Northern Ireland policy is a matter for its Department of Foreign
Affairs, but there it is.) This has very real political effects as the
republic has in fact changed dramatically in the past decade, in a manner
ironically much less threatening to unionists; paradoxically, it is perhaps
more threatening to unionists that the southern bogey may be no
more, as this enemy image has been at the heart of unionism's raison
d'être. The question of quite what links there should be between
north and south in Ireland has bedevilled attempts to negotiate a political
settlement, as evidenced by the argument over the framework document for
such a settlement published by the British and Irish governments in February
1995.
The IRA and all its works are
routinely referred to as 'terrorists' in the News Letter, even
though in fact only a minority of its activities over the years, strictly
speaking, have been directed at placing the population randomly in fearno-warning
bombs, for instance. Using the catch-all term 'terrorist' decontextualises
the IRA from its conditions of existence in Northern Ireland and displaces
it into the international arena of organisations deemed simply to be a
threat. This renders it impossible to comprehend the underlying reasons
why a minority of Catholics support the IRA, which relates to broader
minority grievances which unionists must address if a settlement between
them ever is to be found.
The News Letter would
also routinely refer to Northern Ireland as 'Ulster', even though in that
form it has a distinctly 'loyalist' connotation and should strictly only
be used to refer to the historic nine-county province of Ulster (as against
the six which comprise Northern Ireland). No such slip would occur in
the Irish Newswhich would, on the other hand, use the (in unionist
eyes) both unofficial and Irish-sounding 'North' interchangeably with
'Northern Ireland' as the name of the state, though the Irish News
discouraged use of the 'six counties' (very much republican phraseology
delegitimising the state altogether).
Though the practice has changed
in recent years, the nationalist paper used to bracket events north and
south in Ireland under 'Home News' while events in Britain were included
under 'World News'. And only in 1990 did the paper end its tradition of
naming the saint's day at the top of the leader column. This all contributes
to two wider traits within nationalist politics: a fuzziness as to quite
what is desired/required in terms of the aspiration towards an all-Ireland
political community, and a blind spot about Britain and so towards comprehension
of unionists' sense of Britishness.
Both papers, like the Belfast
Telegraph and the TV stations, routinely elide the terms Protestant/unionist,
and Catholic/nationalist. This not only renders secular liberals, those
who otherwise define themselves as outside the conventional political
space, those who are a- or anti-political and those not from Northern
Ireland (such as the substantial Chinese community) non-persons. It also
flattens out the diversity within each religious community between more
moderate and more extreme positions.
Remarkably, the BBC has even
enshrined this ideological labelling in its 1993 style guide, where it
suggests, as examples, that west Belfast would be described as "a
largely nationalist area" while Crossmaglen (in south Armagh) is
"a republican stronghold". Paradoxically it balks, meanwhile,
at describing the SDLP as "mainly-Catholic" (which is in fact
an underestimate: the party contains only a handful of Protestants), perhaps
reflective of the 'goodwill' the party enjoys from the media. And so physical
spaces become defined as 'nationalist' or 'loyalist' areas in media parlance,
with severe consequences for issues such as the routes of communal (overwhelmingly
Protestant) parades. For this media presentation heightens the perception
of territoriality and so the struggle for territorial control which is
at the heart of the parades controversy.
Worse still, all (nominal)
Protestants and all (nominal) Catholics are hoovered up into the 'unionist
community' and the 'nationalist community', whether they feel part of
any such imagined community or not, and whether in particular they want
to be protagonists for 'their' side against the other in the way the term
assumes. Thus enemy images are constructed of individuals and whole communities
with whom media consumers may have no direct modulating contact whatsoever;
even such direct contact as does exist between two individuals drawn from
the two deeply segregated populations is usually of a low-level and deliberately
banal character.
The significance of all this
is that the very possibility of a political settlement, grouping the moderates
from both camps and the secular centre in a dialogic exchange counterposed
to fundamentalists on either side, is thus almost by definition rendered
unrealistic by the categories the media crucially construct. It is thus
that Giddens' 'degenerate spirals of communication' are effected.
The controller of BBC NI, Pat
Loughrey, admits the problem. He believes broadcasters have an obligation
to communication, dialogue and the avoidance of easy labelling and he
expresses unease about an analysis of Northern Ireland which only recognises
two traditions: "I have argued for a very long time that there are
many traditions, many backgrounds, many identities and that to easily
succumb ... to an analysis that is simple dichotomy ... is to take the
political polarisation and to allow it to appropriate a far more diverse
cultural historical group." While he can see a danger of being accused
of "escapism from the polarised truth", he stresses that the
future must be one of "true individualism rather than this collectivism,
because collectivism is a way to tribalism and danger ... there are not
just two communities".
Such a complex media discourse,
however, has not always been welcome to the authorities in Northern Ireland,
whose reflexes have normally been much more towards ideological closure.
c) The Influences
of the State
On August 20th 1988, eight
British soldiers were killed and many more injured in an IRA bomb attack
on the bus in which they were travelling in Co Tyrone. Coming only two
months after six soldiers were killed in a similar attack on their minibus
in Co Antrim, it represented the worst loss for British forces in Northern
Ireland since 1979.
On October 19th, the then British
home secretary, Douglas Hurd, introduced restrictions throughout the UK
on broadcast (but not press) interviews with 'republican' and 'loyalist'
paramilitary organisations, their political wings and others deemed to
advocate their causes. Mr Hurd was utilising extensive powersallowing
him to act by administrative fiatcontained in the 1981 Licence and Agreement
governing the operation of the British Broadcasting Corporation, and the
Broadcasting Act of the same year governing the Independent Broadcasting
Authority (which then regulated commercial TV in Britain). Eleven paramilitary
and political organisations were named in notices issued to these organisations,
which said:
I hereby request the [BBC
and IBA] to refrain at all times from sending any broadcast matter which
consists of or includes any words spoken ... by a person who ... represents
an organisation specified ... or [when] the words support or solicit
or invite support for such an organisation.
Election campaigns and Westminster
proceedings were exempt from the restrictions.
The home secretary defended
his measure by arguing that interviews with paramilitary spokespeople
had "caused widespread offence". Yet this sat very uneasily
with the claim of his prime minister, Margaret Thatcher, that 'terrorists'
should be denied the 'oxygen of publicity'. For the latter claim assumed
viewers and listeners represented empty vessels, which could be filled
with paramilitary propaganda; the former assertion, however, implied that
such propaganda fell on very stony ground, and might indeed only serve
to alienate broadcast audiences thus offended.
Sinn Féin's publicity
director, Danny Morrison (shortly afterwards imprisoned for an IRA offence),
was wise to this flaw. It was "a direct contradiction", he said
launching a pamphlet attacking the curbs, to contend that a "Sinn
Féin spokesperspon appearing on television caused revulsion and
then say it's an attempt to recruit people to the IRA".
Because of this incoherence,
opposition to the restrictions was not confined to liberal advocates of
freedom of expression, for whom this represented a "threat to the
right of the people to be fully informed". The government's move
was widely condemned by press and broadcasting organisations across the
political spectrum (never mind internationally), the middle-of-the-road
Today newspaper calling it "futile" and "muddled".
A senior judge described it as "half-baked". An opinion poll
in Britain found 62 per cent support for the restrictions, yet a similar
proportion believed they would not help defeat the IRA. The Royal Ulster
Constabulary, however, was uncompromisingly in favour.
In practice, the order was
soon subverted by broadcasters replacing the 'offending' voice of the
spokesperson with that of an actor, a response further refined with the
lip-synchronising of the actor's words with those of the interviewee.
But, despite formal protests, the general response of broadcasters, and
indeed journalists, to the notice was ineffectual: "I see everybody
learning to live with it," said one senior figure. A year on, a Home
Office minister complacently intoned: "Despite a few initial difficulties
you have all come to act sensibly."
The British restrictions were,
however, less strict or longstanding than those in the Republic of Ireland.
Under extensive discretion granted by section 31 of the 1960 Broadcasting
Authority Act, in 1971 the minister for posts and telegraphs, Gerry Collins,
directed the authority running the state broadcasting service, Radio Telefis
Eireann, to "refrain from broadcasting any matter that could be calculated
to promote the aims or activities of any organisation which engaged, promoted,
encouraged or advocated the attainment of any political objective by violent
means". In 1976, section 31 was amended in more specific form and
an order under it was limited to 12 months, though this could be renewedas
it was every year. The text of the latter made clear that RTE was prohibited
from broadcasting not only interviews with leaders of named organisations,
like the British order, but also reports of such interviews.
The ban even led in 1983 to
RTE not transmitting the cheers for Gerry Adams when he won the West Belfast
seat in the Westminster election of that year, because the crowd were
shouting 'Up Sinn Féin'. Indeed, back in 1972, the government went
so far as to dismiss the RTE Authority, its governing body, following
an interview with the IRA leader Sean MacStiofain.
While this was of significance
in the republic, the British restrictions were of much greater import
in Northern Ireland, owing to the low penetration of RTE north of the
border. This arises in part from the technical difficulties of reception,
which requires in most areas not only a special aerial but also a booster
device to obtain a quality signal. RTE would like to be able to strengthen
the signal from its border transmitter but, while this has been raised
with the British government via the Intergovernmental Conference established
by the Anglo-Irish Agreement, these representations have been inconsequential.
The 1988 British order represented
the culmination of years of friction between government and the broadcasters.
As the 'troubles' developed, the BBC and ITV had sought to put in place
internal constraints for journalists. In 1971, a system of 'referencing
up' was elaborated, requiring programme-makers to obtain authorisation
for their proposals, particularly where they involved interviews with
IRA representatives, if necessary up to the director-general of the BBC
or the (then) Independent Television Authority.
But this was not sufficient
to forestall external political pressures on the media. In January 1972,
the British home secretary, Reginald Maudling sought, in this case unsuccessfully,
to stop a discussion programme, The Question of Ulster, boycotted
by the disintegrating Stormont government. The programme's tribunal format
was a classic instance of seeking to foster understanding through exegesis
of positions (and no IRA representative had been invited to take part).
What was going on, as British
military and political engagement increased, was that a philosophy of
'terrorism as cause' was taking over from 'discrimination as cause' as
definer of the conflict in the dominant media and political minds. "To
all intents and purposes analysis of the deeper causes of the violence
was barred. In journalistic terminology, the 'who, what, where and when'
could still be reported (description was unaffected), but the context,
the 'why', could not."
This perspective had been accepted
in November 1971 by the BBC chair, Lord Hill. Following a speech in which
the minister for posts and telegraphs, Christopher Chataway, said that
"as between the IRA and the Ulster government or between the army
and the terrorists" the media "were not required to strike a
balance", Lord Hill wrote to Mr Maudling that "between the British
Army and the gunmen, the BBC is not and cannot be impartial". And
for the Independent Television Authority, Lord Aylestone said: "As
far as I am concerned, Britain is at war with the IRA in Ulster and the
IRA will get no more coverage than the Nazis would have done in the last
war."
What matters, in this ultimately
partisan view, is whose interests are deemed to be served by a
particular story. Far from safeguarding the 'fourth estate', it allows
a severe question mark to be placed over the exercise of journalistic
freedom and media independence.
Nor was this attitude a Conservative
preserve. In the wake of bombs in Birmingham in November 1974 in which
21 people were killed, the Prevention of Terrorism Act was rushed through
Parliament, inter alia rendering the IRA illegal and making it
offence to withhold information about 'terrorism'. This effectively ended
broadcast interviews with IRA spokespersons.
The last Labour Northern Ireland
secretary, Roy Mason (1976-9), adopted a particularly pugnacious stance.
At a dinner outside Belfast in November 1976, Mr Mason accused the then
BBC chair, Sir Michael Swann, of supporting terrorism by reporting the
activities of, and statements by, leaders of paramilitary organisations;
he said the BBC was not to be used by the IRA as a weapon in its propaganda
war.
The minister was to be particularly
exercised by media allegations that paramilitary suspects were being mistreated
at police 'holding centres', where they could be detained under emergency
legislation for up to seven days. He attacked as "irresponsible and
insensitive" and "riddled with unsubstantiated conclusions"
an ITV programme in the This Week series focusing on allegations
of maltreatment of police detainees, allegations later substantiated by
Amnesty International; the chief constable put his men on 'red alert'
before transmission. The Independent Broadcasting Authority (which replaced
the ITA) banned a subsequent This Week programme on the Amnesty
report, provoking technicians to pull the plugs on the alternative programme
slotted in for transmission.
In the midst of its running
battle with Mr Mason, the BBC published a pamphlet by its then Northern
Ireland controller, Dick Francis, giving the classic liberal defence (if
parenthetically qualified) of media autonomy:
The experience in Northern
Ireland, where communities and governments are in conflict but not in
a state of emergency or a state of war, suggests a greater need than
ever for the media to function as the 'fourth estate', distinct from
the executive, the legislature and the judiciary. But if the functions
are to remain separate, it must be left to the media themselves to take
the decisions (within the limits of responsibility) as to what to publish,
as to when, and as to how.
Under the Thatcher governments,
these tensions were acted out within a wider picture of antagonism to
what the prime minister saw as media disloyalty during such confrontations
as the Falklands war and the British-supported invasion of Libya. In 1979,
untransmitted film for the BBC's Panorama, showing an IRA checkpoint
in Co Tyrone, was seized by government under the Prevention of Terrorism
Act.
An internal BBC document of
1980 instructed journalists to refer up, ultimately to the director-general,
proposals to seek, and subsequently to transmit, interviews with those
deemed even to be "closely associated with a terrorist organisation".
The electoral rise of Sinn Féin on the back of the IRA hunger strike
of 1981 made this unsustainable, however, creating the biggest crisis
up to that point for the broadcasters.
In 1985, a BBC documentary
in a series called Real Lives, including an interview with the
leading IRA/SF figure Martin McGuinness, was initially banned by the BBC
board of governors under government pressure: the home secretary, Leon
Brittan, without seeing the programme, had said it would "materially
assist the terrorist cause". Mrs Thatcher was "very pleased"
but the BBC NI controller, James Hawthorne, almost resigned and a strike
across broadcasting followed. A re-edited version was later transmitted.
But an even bigger furore stemmed
from the killing by undercover soldiers of three IRA members in Gibraltar
in March 1988. This began a bloody sequence of violence culminating in
the lynching of two corporals who got caught up in a republican funeral
in Belfast. The chief constable, Sir John Hermon, requested the broadcasters
to hand over footage of the episode; they refused, unless served with
a court order. Mrs Thatcher made clear her view that "one is on the
side of justice in these matters, or one is on the side of terrorism".
The material was subsequently seized.
An almighty row was caused
by a Thames TV This Week programme, 'Death on the Rock', on the
Gibraltar killings. The award-winning programme, and a similar BBC Northern
Ireland Spotlight product, questioned the official version that
the IRA members were about to detonate a bomb by remote control when gunned
down.
It appears that a cabinet sub-committee
was kept regularly informed as the Thames programme progressed, even while
all requests for official co-operation were denied to the makers. The
foreign secretary, Sir Geoffrey Howe, personally phoned the chair of the
IBA and its director of television in an endeavour to prevent the programme
being transmitted. Ministers denounced it as 'trial by television. The
defence secretary, George Younger, subsequently admitted in the House
of Commons that he supplied "briefing notes" to the Sunday
Times defence correspondent for an attack on the programme in the
paper.
It was in this climate that
the broadcasting restrictions were introduced in October of that year.
Yet in its 1989 guidelines for broadcasters, despite the restrictions,
the BBC accepted that interviews with people "associated with Irish
terrorist organisations" (ie SF) were "not so rare" (as
with "Irish terrorists" directly), "because the people
interviewed are active in the daily politics of Northern Ireland, nearly
always in publicly elected positions".
And, as the Hume-Adams 'peace
process' emerged in 1993in many ways led more by the SF president, Mr
Adams, than by the leader of the SDLP, John Humethe restrictions became
increasingly unsustainable. They were lifted in the republic in January
1994 as a carrot to SF, but the Northern Ireland secretary, Sir Patrick
Mayhew, and the responsible minister, Peter Brooke, initially resisted
pressure from a sensitive Foreign Office to follow suit the next month.
After the IRA ceasefire of August 1994, however, the prime minister, John
Major, bowed to the inevitable.
SF spokespeople now have uninhibited
access to the airwavesindeed, and this also applies to their loyalist
counterparts, access quite disproportionate to their electoral support.
The ending of the IRA ceasefire and the fragmentation of the loyalist
cessation have not, at the time of writing, led to any significant calls
for the restrictions to be reimposed.
There have, of course, been
forms of leverage deployed by the authorities over the years other than
seeking an outright ban on programmes or spokespeople. Numerous instances
of 'black propaganda' have taken place, notably associated with the enthusiastic
disinformation activities of Colin Wallace at the army's Lisburn headquarters
in the early 70s. In its 'psychological operations unit', he was fed briefings
by MI5 which assisted him in the "army's battle ... for hearts and
minds" by smearing Sinn Féin and loyalist paramilitaries as
'communist'. The most recent example was the story propagated in the Conservative-supporting
Mail on Sunday that the "top IRA man" Gerry Kelly, a
leading figure in SF's contacts with government, was having an affair
with a key aide to George Mitchell, chair of the multi-party talks from
which SF had been excluded owing to continuing IRA violence.
A crucial episode surrounded
the investigation by the then Greater Manchester deputy chief constable,
John Stalker, into an alleged 'shoot-to-kill' policy by the Royal Ulster
Constabulary in Co Armagh in 1982. One case involved the shooting dead
that December of two alleged members of the Irish National Liberation
Army, Seamus Grew and Roddy Carroll, where raisons d'état
prevailed over honesty:
After that shooting a public
statement had been issued by the police saying that the men were shot
after breaking through a random police road block and injuring a policeman.
None of this was true ... The false story had been prepared as a contingency
before the shooting took place and had been put out almost immediately
as a press release. One enlightening instance involved a policeman member
of the special E4 squad involved in the shooting of Grew and Carroll.
While waiting to be debriefed by his Special Branch chiefs at Gough
Barracks, Armagh, he watched, bewildered, a television news bulletin
that broadcast an already circulated and totally false police account
of what had happened. He knew it to be lies ... When he went into the
office to be debriefed, however, he was told that protection of informant
sources was far more important than truthfulness to the press ...
The then chief constable of
the RUC, Sir John Hermon, has defended this practice in his recent autiobiography,
in which he refers to these 'lies': "To be effective, such cover
stories had sometimes to be included in a public statement given by RUC
headquarters to the media."
While the 'Stalker affair'
was the cause célèbre of disputed killings by the
police and army, there have been numerous such instances during the 'troubles'.
It has been characteristic of such episodes that the relevant force has
issued a statement or briefed journalists to the effect that (a) the police/soldiers
happened upon the situation accidentally and/or (b) the victims, though
unarmed, appeared to the police/soldiers to have made a threatening movement.
Mark Urban catalogues two such episodes where the army responded to the
killings of uninvolved civilians by undercover soldiers by issuing what
were transparently inaccurate statements.
The Gibraltar killings were
themselves, of course, an extreme case of (b), with the Sunday Telegraph
and Sunday Times being briefed within a week of the killings
that the SAS killers had feared the three IRA members they challenged
could detonate a bomb elsewhere on the island by remote controla 'button
job' as it was described. This implausible suggestion was subsequently
rubbished by an Irish expert in the field.
A former director of information
at the Northern Ireland Office, David Gilliland, has also since admitted
to having issued "flat denials" on controversial issues in the
70s and 80s. "I didn't resent the fact that we were blamed for telling
lies," he said. The government had wanted "to manipulate the
media and use it as a weapon in the arsenal" against the paramilitaries.
An extreme example was the
refusal to admit contacts between the British government and the IRA/SF
between 1990 and 1993. Just 12 days before the Observer revealed
the existence of this 'channel of communication' in November 1993, the
Northern Ireland secretary, Sir Patrick Mayhew, made just such a 'flat
denial' on BBC Radio. And, amidst a conflict with SF as to what the content
of these contacts had been, the government was forced to admit its first,
self-serving version was incorrect.
A further means of influence
has been to blackball, or alternatively to cultivate, particular journalists
or organisations. Thus, in the early days of the 'troubles', when the
British army was in many ways running the show, Simon Winchester of the
Guardian described how he had been "punished with the one
weapon the army could use with effect against methe denial of information"
for naming a very senior officer who had talked to him on the expectation
of remaining anonymous.
On the other hand, he notes
how the Sunday Times was used by government after the Bloody Sunday
massacre in 1972 to float the idea of reconstructing the unionist state
on power-sharing terms, with guaranteed representation in government for
the Catholic minority. "How, the government asked Ulstermen through
the paper, would that suit you?"
A confidential 1975 army memorandum
gloated that "there are many ways of influencing even the most anti-establishment
reporter". Most simply, government can simply make sure it gets the
last word. The Northern Ireland secretary is frequently 'doorstepped',
in the sense that the media are told of his daily appointments with the
opportunity of a brief engagement as he arrives or leaves. Mr Gilliland
once told a UTV schools programme: "So yes, it is contrived on occasions
to put a minister on a doorstep in the open air so that when he [has]
said as much as he deems to be in the public interest then he is able
to say 'well I have another appointment. Thank you very much' and go."
Finally, resources are a key
issue in all this and their distribution is a rough-and-ready index of
the media power of various organisations of the state (and its opponents).
In the early days of the 'troubles', the not very competent but very unionist
Stormont Information Service had a handful of staff. As the army took
over, its press office grew from two to 40 between 1968 and 1971. But
as 'police primacy' was implemented from the mid-70s, the army cut back
to 21 press officers by 1981, and by 1989 to three; the RUC press operation,
first established with one part-time press officer in 1968, correspondingly
expanded.
Similarly, as direct rule moved
from being 'temporary' to 'normal', the Northern Ireland Information Service
(under the control now of the British administration) grew substantially,
to 20 in 1981 and 50 in 1989. In total, Miller estimates that official
sources could, conservatively, draw on 145 full-time information staff
at that time.
And yet ... The history of
the 'troubles'some would say the history of the past century in Ireland
since the first home rule crisis of 1886has been a history of the failure
of the British state to exercise its hegemony. Neo-Marxist writing on
the media tends to take for granted that the state will indeed enjoy such
a hegemonic position, operating as a 'primary definer' of news, as the
principal 'accredited spokesperson'.
This cannot however be taken
for granted in Northern Ireland, a region in a more-or-less permanent
crisis of hegemony from which in many respects the state has mentally
abdicated, ceding much ground to the contending protagonists. As Miller
and McLaughlin argue, the "dramatic shift in government thinking"
towards the IRA/SF marked by the onset of the 'peace process' in 1993
can hardly be said to have had nothing to do with "the armed struggle
of the IRA". In that sense the Downing Street Declaration of December
1993, setting out the terms for SF's involvement in talks on the future
of the region (spurned by SF after seven months of prevarication), represented
"an attempt to regain the public relations initiative from Sinn Féin".
d)
The Parties and the Media
Censorship and manipulation
of the media agenda are not, of course, confined to the authorities. On
the contrary, state opponents of a militant kind often, at first sight
paradoxically, mimic the behaviour of the state. This is only initially
paradoxical, however, because in reality such groups share the perspective
of the guardians of the core of the state apparatusof being engaged in
a life-or-death Manichean struggle, determined by the balance of forces,
in which other actors are secondary players. From the Bolsheviks onwards,
such extremist movements have thereby been radicals in opposition, conservatives
in power.
In the beginning it was very
unsophisticated: in 1971 the IRA blew up the Daily Mirror's printing
plant in Belfast; in 1974, it kidnapped two Mirror journalists
for a few hours. Less crudely, the so-called General Headquarters department
of the IRA has circulated rumours about journalists with independent republican
contacts, alleging them to be MI5 agents. It has also tapped journalists'
telephones. As the independent-minded journalist Suzanne Breen concludes,
"Black propaganda is regarded by many protagonists in the conflict
as just another tool of war. Moral scruples are unlikely to stand in the
way."
Following the seizure by the
authorities of media footage of the killing of the two corporals in west
Belfast in March 1988, 27 reporters, photographers, TV crew and media
executives were subpoenaed to give evidence at the trial of two men who
were eventually convicted of involvement in the murder. In reaction, the
IRA issued death threats to a BBC journalist and the former head of BBC
news and current affairs in the region, forcing them to leave Northern
Ireland (one eventually returned).
But the worst episode of paramilitary
intimidation stemmed from the 'loyalist' side. It began when the northern
editor of the Sunday World, Jim Campbell, was shot and wounded
by the Ulster Volunteer Force at his north Belfast home in May 1984. This
followed a series of articles by Mr Campbell about a UVF multiple murderer
nicknamed 'the Jackal'. Eight years later, a loyalist held a gun to his
daughter's head at the Sunday World office in Belfast she was
working as Mr Campbell's personal assistant at the timebefore leaving
a bomb which staff had to step over to escape. The so-called Combined
Loyalist Military Commandthe umbrella body for loyalist paramilitariesthen
issued a statement saying the lives of all Sunday World journalists
were in danger, in particular those of Mr Campbell and his colleague Martin
O'Hagan, provoking strong protest from the National Union of Journalists.
There followed, according to
Mr Campbell, a "calculated attempt" by loyalists to put the
northern edition of the paper (which sells throughout Ireland) out of
business, with threats to distributors and newsagents and seizures of
papers in Protestant areas. Mr O'Hagan was moved temporarily to Cork.
The threat was eventually lifted.
In May 1992 the fringe republican
group the Irish People's Liberation Organisation hit the apogee of black
farce. The product of a murderous feud in the Irish National Liberation
Army and seriously implicated in drug trafficking, the IPLO chose to blame
the messenger for its image problem. It threatened "direct action"
against journalists deemed to be engaged in a "black propaganda campaign"
against it.
At the heart of the mainstream
republican propaganda effort is the Sinn Féin newspaper An Phoblacht,
which bills itself as the biggest selling political weekly in Ireland
(there aren't actually any real competitors). For SF activists, selling
AP around pubs and clubs is a weekly chore. It carries IRA statements
and therefore frequently makes the news elsewhere itself. Its significance
was demonstrated by the authorities backhandedly with a raid on the premises
of its predecessor, Republican News, in Belfast in 1977. The language
of AP is classically propagandist: the army 'brutally murders'
loyalists form 'hit squads', but the IRA 'executes' ...
As to the 'mainstream' parties
in Northern Ireland, the most striking thing about their relationships
with the media is their amateurism. There are no spin-doctors (and
nor are there the focus groups, tracking polls and so on characteristic
of the entire public presentation of parties today). Only the SDLP over
the years has sustained a regular, full-time press officer (SF, by contrast,
has two longstanding press officers, one in Belfast, one in Dublin, as
well as support staff). And the succession of incumbents to that post
has been testament to the difficulty they have had in co-ordinating the
diverse activities of the SDLP's (at the time of writing) four MPs, who
have tended to operate private fiefdoms.
Unionists, meanwhile, have
consistently assumed the media to be hostile; journalists, particularly
Catholic ones, have been a verbal target at Ulster Unionist Party conferences.
They have also, especially the extreme Democratic Unionist Party, been
more insular, even provincial, compared with their nationalist opponents.
The DUP's press spokesperson, Sammy Wilson, told David Miller: "As
far as views of people outside of Northern Ireland are concerned, I suppose
it's part of just our insularity that we have felt that we can ignore
them and I think that that's probably been a weakness."
In other words, while SF sees
itself as involved in a revolutionary struggle in which the propaganda
war is a very important dimension, the conventional parties, including
its constitutional-nationalist opponent, the SDLP, do not really take
seriously their presentation in the public domain. Underlying all this,
of course, is the fact that Northern Ireland has so few 'floating voters'
whom parties would court; the contrast with, for example, British Labour's
obsession with the views of waverers in the marginals in the run-up to
the 1997 Westminster election could not be starker. Thus the lack of a
professional approach to public relations is a reflection of the non-dialogic
nature of so many of the exchanges in which party representatives are
involved, once they leave the confines of communal politics and enter
the theoretically religion-blind TV studios.
Nevertheless, both republicans
and unionists face a particularly difficult battle persuading the international
media of their case, because of their less than fulsome commitment to
liberal-democratic norms. Unionists have increasingly recognised the problem,
though they tend to put it down to bad PR, rather than the message itself.
The SDLP, meanwhile, correspondingly knows that it has "a lot of
goodwill going for it in the media".
But then, the ambivalence of
at least some of the Northern Ireland parties towards the media is at
least reciprocated by the tiredness of much of the media with Northern
Irelandwhich has its own reverberations on the political environment
in which the parties operate.
e)
The Political Influence of the Media
Section (a) of this report
referred to the provincialism of the Northern Ireland media. This has
pertinent political effects: it entrenches an involuted and particularistic
political culture, insulated from the leavening criticism of more universalist
or internationalist perspectives.
Thus Maurice Hayes, a very
senior former civil servant in Northern Ireland, has written:
Among the less endearing
traits of the Ulster people in relation to their present conflict is
a lack of humility and a poor sense of proportion. We take a perverse
pride in the length and intensity of the struggleno conflict is better
than oursand we find it difficult to understand how Northern Ireland
does not dominate the headlines in the world press ... In part, this
results from the introverted and narcissistic immediacy of the local
media in publicising the daily bomb, eternally recycling the views of
a small number of politicians and continually examining the entrails
for political comment, and concentrating on local issues to the exclusion
of everything else.
Yet British coverage of Northern
Ireland has suffered from its own tunnel vision. Describing his experience
as a Guardian corespondent, Simon Winchester wrote:
There was an indefinable
feeling of being in a foreign country in Ireland, north or southand,
it must be admitted, there was some identification, some commonality
between the ordinary British squaddie [soldier (colloquial)] on the
street and the ordinary British reporter or photographer or television
man who followed him around or took pictures of him or whatever ...
Like us, he, the individual soldier was no real part of the trouble;
like us, he had been sent from England to do a job.
This 'squaddie's eye view'
of the 'troubles' had its impact too, fostering a partisan perspective
in which the army was indeed no 'real part of the trouble'merely reacting
stoically to the inflammatory Irish with a restraint no other force would
show. An extreme, but not atypical, example was a Daily Sketch
editorial in September 1970, in which the British soldier was described
as "a great defender of civilisation against chaos, of order against
the apostles of violence. He is the most patient, decent, military man
in the world."
This has both insulated the
British political class against much justified criticism directed at the
authorities, including from international human rights organisations,
and against sensitivity towards the perceived double standards involved
in its attitudes to state and not-state violence. Thus, the release in
July 1995 by the Northern Ireland secretary, Sir Patrick Mayhew, of Private
Lee Clegg, convicted of the murder of a young female 'joyrider' in west
Belfast, having served just four years of a 'life' sentence, provoked
widespread disturbances in Catholic areas.
A more general effect of media
coverage in both Britain and the republic of Northern Ireland has been
to numb readers to the human tragedy involved and to persuade manyincluding,
particularly, in the political classthat nothing can be done. Coverage,
as Hugh Lundy describes it, which presents the conflict as "a series
of unconnected incidents ... helps promote in readers' minds the idea
that the violence is mindless and has not grown out of specific economic,
political and military causes." This is hardly likely to induce governmental
activism or popular demand for same. Rather it is to put Northern Ireland
into what one very senior British civil servant once called the 'too difficult'
category.
Here the almost unique phenomenon
in European journalism of British tabloid newspapers, reflective of the
sharp class-cultural cleavages in British society, has a very real impact:
... because of their vast
circulation these papers have tended to affect the way people have viewed
the Northern Ireland situation. Thus, simplicity in reporting involves
both a lack of explanation and perspective, human interest and the concentration
on the particular details of incidents and the personal characteristics
of those involved. The result is a continual procession of inexplicable
events.
As Philip Elliott concluded
more generally from his analysis of reporting in the early 70s, "the
tendency of the British media was to report violent events as simply irrational
and horrid ... Such events were irrational because they were horrid."
True, the 'peace process' of
1994-6 occasioned massive international media interest, as had the IRA
hunger strikes of 1980-81, or indeed the outbreak of violence in 1968-9.
But such peaks of media engagement only highlight the 'normal' deep troughs
of uninterest (another of which we have now entered)to which political
disengagement corresponds.
The comments of the former
Daily Mirror editor Roy Greenslade, made before the excitement
of the last few years, are once again becoming valid:
Every Northern Ireland national
newspaper correspondent I have spoken to has similar misgivings about
the difficulty of getting their reports into their own papers and hence
helping readers to grasp the truth ... No British tabloid bothers to
employ a full-time correspondent in Northern Ireland any longer, relying
on agencies to cover outbreaks of violence that make a paragraph or
two. Broadsheets do provide a better coverage, but all their reporters
talk of their frustration at trying to convince London-based newsdesks
of the importance of their stories ... "The Troubles are like the
weather," said one correspondent. "They appear completely
beyond anyone's control."
Similarly, Mary Holland cites
the director of programmes at Channel 4 as saying in 1992: "Viewers
turn off at the very mention of the subject. The story has been going
hopelessly round in circles for decades."
Nor is this ennui confined
to Britain. In 1991, the then director of news for RTE, Joe Mulholland,
told an audience in Liverpool that the troubles were now perceived by
many European news organisations as "a dirty little sectarian war
that is bereft of any real ideological basis".
Having completed his stint
as northern editor of the Irish Times, Mark Brennock wrote how
his paper had a policy of ensuring every killing in the north became a
page-one story. But he said:
Many people, particularly
those living outside Northern Ireland, don't read them. I know this:
when I was living in Dublin I had a sub-conscious dictionary that translated
headlines such as "Man shot dead in North" into "don't
read this".
Politics in Northern Ireland
is not only influenced by developments in Britain and the Republic of
Ireland, but also the United States. Indeed, in 1989 a government information
officer described US journalists as his "prime target": "Because
here was the leading nation in the western world [and] if the US government
had thought that the United Kingdom was wrong in their policy towards
Ireland ... then somehow one had to get the opinion formers onside."
This became even more true
with the onset of the 'peace process'. The US played a key role under
President Clinton in bringing the IRA/SF 'in from the cold', notably with
the decision before the IRA ceasefire in 1994 to grant Gerry Adams a visaagainst
State Department advice and in the teeth of British oppositionand the
doors thus opened for the republicans not only to political power but
to major-league fundraising. The culmination of this was perhaps the White
House St Patrick's Day bash in March 1995, when Mr Adams was an honoured
guest.
Yet within a year, after the
ending of the IRA ceasefire, the president and the first lady were "spitting
blood" about Mr Adams, who would be refused a visa were
he now to reapply. In terms of domestic Northern Ireland politics, the
damage had, however, been done: the American connection had become perceived
as partisan by the Protestant community, as another unwelcome 'outside
interference'.
The two-year US affair with
Mr Adams and SF seemed odd, however, even to independent observers. Mr
Adams, after all, was no Nelson Mandela or Yasser Arafat, commanding only
the support of a minority of the Catholic minority within Northern Ireland5-10
per cent of the 'Irish people as a whole' in whose name SF purports to
present itself as the leading advocate of self-determination. Part of
the explanation for this conundrum may lie in prior media coverage.
Because of the obsession with
'terrorism' in US culture on the one hand, and the sympathies of Irish-America
on the other, US media coverage of Northern Ireland has foregrounded the
republican movement to an extraordinary degree. A content analysis of
seven leading US dailies from 1985 to 1988 compared 471 major events in
Northern Ireland, derived from an authoritative political directory, with
the proportion of times Northern Ireland actors involved in them were
mentioned in the American coverage.
The IRA was covered so extensively
that its ratio of coverage to events in which it was involved was calculated
as 5.5. And its political wing, SF, enjoyed a ratio of 1.5. By contrast,
the coverage/events ratio for the main nationalist party, the SDLP, was
only 0.3. And for the main unionist partyindeed the largest party in
Northern Irelandthe Ulster Unionists, the ratio was a mere 0.1.
Thus references to SF in this
period were some five times as frequent as to the SDLP, which polled about
twice as many votes, and some 15 times as frequent as to the UUP, which
polled about three times as many. In this context, the otherwise bizarre
focus in US policy from 1994 to 1996 on the republican movement, as if
it were the principal actor, becomes more explicable.
But it is worth stressing,
finally, the limits of the influence of the external media on Northern
Ireland. For all the fashionable internationalisation of the Northern
Ireland conflict in recent years, the ending of the IRA ceasefire in February
1996 and the Orange mobilisation at Drumcree the following Julyboth wholly
defiant of international opiniondemonstrated once more the veracity of
the claim by the respected political scientist the late John Whyte that
the conflict has a primarily internal dynamic.
And it is, to use Giddens'
terminology, in assisting positive spirals of communicationrather than
degenerate oneswithin Northern Ireland that the media can play
a positive role.
f)
A New Role for the Media
In 1978, a secret assessment
by a senior British army intelligence figure acknowledged that the IRA
could not be militarily defeated: "The Movement will retain popular
support sufficient to maintain secure bases in the traditional republican
areas." From his side, in 1987, the Sinn Féin president, Gerry
Adams, told Hot Press magazine: "There is no military solution,
none whatsoever."
In this context, the Article
19 report on the broadcasting restrictions concluded:
The way forward in Northern
Ireland is to turn people away from violence and towards political debate.
Censorship undoubtedly impedes this process. Those who are most passionately
opposed to the violence of Ireland's paramilitary groups, and who are
most serious about that violence, must think not of how best to defeat
them militarilythe evidence so far is that that simply cannot be donebut
rather of how to defeat them through political debate ... That means
openly examining, discussing, analysing and directly addressing the
political stances and the tactical approaches taken by such groups and
their public apologists, and persuading those who now support such groups
that there is either a better fundamental goal or a more effective,
and ethical, means of achieving or defeating the purpose on which they
are currently focused. If the British and Irish governments are serious
in presenting themselves as arbiters in, rather than parties to, the
Northern strife, then they must encourage debate and dialogue.
I have quoted this at length
because of its prophetic character. For the year 1988 did not only see
the liberal-pluralist option held out by Article 19 closed down by the
broadcasting restrictions. It also saw the first round of secret talks
between Mr Adams and his 'constitutional' nationalist counterpart, the
leader of the Social Democratic and Labour Party, John Hume. These latter
talks were eventually to close down the liberal-pluralist avenue in another
way.
Though initially abortive,
they were to issue into the so-called Hume-Adams agreement of 1993, around
the conservative-communalist theme of 'self-determination', consolidating
the division of Northern Ireland into two communalist blocs with politics
confined to secret deals between élite figures. Thus emerged the
at first sight paradoxical outcome of peace associated with intense sectarian
polarisationbringing, in turn, the collapse of the peace itself in renewed
paramilitary and broader communal violence: developments which themselves
seemed to catch the media as much as the political class by surprise.
If peace in Northern Ireland
is to mean more than the absence of violence, to be sustainable and to
linked to a wider process of reconciliation, a liberal-pluralist perspective
on and within the media must be strengthened. Yet considerable anecdotal
evidence suggests a prevailing journalistic culture marked by cynicism
and conservatism. Characterised by taken-for-granted communal labelling
and uncritical acceptance of the representative claims of political élites,
far from encouraging debate this merely tends to reduce coverage to "routinist
reportage of well-rehearsed adversarial positions of political spokespeople".
Genuinely fresh ideas and new voices are thus squeezed out.
In more exaggerated form, ex-Yugoslavia
underscores the point. In polemical vein, Bogdan Denitch writes how oppositional
forces have offered the best political hope:
But decent people and their
activities are hardly ever news; nationalist demagogues are ... There
have been ten interviews with marginal fascist psychopaths in Serbia
and Croatia for every interview with a human rights or peace activist.
Thus the media have helped the bad guys. At least they have certainly
helped them in Yugoslavia.
In a comparative European context,
Alex Schmid has pointed out how, the Netherlands has been remarkably free
of politically-motivated violence in the post-war and especially post-'68
period. He traces this in part to the clean human rights record of the
state and to the willingness of the authorities to co-opt rather than
suppress dissent. And he goes on:
The media, too, offer a freedom
of expression and a degree of access to all sectors of the public which
is not easily matched elsewhere in the world. It might be that this
great freedom of verbal expression, which allows the statement of extreme
positions, has so far limited the need for 'expressive' violence. Government
tolerance of political dissent and media access for dissenting voices
appear to have played a part in preventing the kind of terrorism that
emerged from the extreme fringe of the student movements of the late
1960s.
It would, however, be naïve
to assume that unrestrained pluralism would dissolve the conflict in Northern
Ireland. Harry Murray may not have been a 'marginal fascist psychopath'
but he and his fellow leaders of the strike/putsch organised by the Ulster
Workers Council, which brought down the power-sharing executive in 1974,
were certainly elevated by broadcast media coverage of their actionmarked
in the initial days by intense intimidation in the Protestant community,
never mind Catholic oppositioninto almost a counter-state, issuing statements
as to who could go where to get what.
The BBC defended its behaviour
subsequently in an internal report which said it had a duty to "reflect
significant bodies of opinionhowever arrived at". Mr Murray was
less ethereal:
The BBC were marvellousthey
were prepared to be fed any information. They fell into their own trap
that "the public must get the news". Sometimes they were just
a news service for us; we found that if the media was [sic] on our side
we didn't need a gun.
Many liberal critics of the
broadcasting restrictions, similarly, argued that their removal would
expose paramilitary spokespersons to searching scrutiny. Yet this has
not been borne out in reality: since given free access to the airwaves,
SF representatives in particular have quite simply dissembled about their
organic relationship with the IRA. The problem, as Colum McCaffery argued
six months after the lifting of the restrictions in the republic in January
1994, is in part the structure of news and current affairs television.
While this lends itself readily to reporting a bomb or a shooting, "A
rigorous examination of the issues surrounding political violence is another
matter altogether."
After all, pluralism may in
practice be a Tower of Babel of mutually uncomprehending voicesof which
the audience in turn can only understand a tiny fraction. A healthy democracy,
Chantal Mouffe insists, is not represented by "a confrontation between
non-negotiable moral values and essentialist identities".
The alternative, however, is
to recognise that liberal democracy in a context of agonistic pluralism
must have another function beyond the expressive: it is not simply about
the collection and counting of 'mandates', but also about the further
step of creating a relationship between elected representatives as near
as possible to what Attracta Ingram calls 'ideal discourse'.
This, as Giddens presents it,
is essentially the opposite of what he calls 'fundamentalism'. If fundamentalism
refuses to explicate its concerns to other groups (the latter perceived
as in a relationship of antagonism), or to assimilate the concerns of
the latter, what Giddens calls 'dialogic democracy' accepts this need
for rational engagement:
On the one hand, democracy
is a vehicle for the representation of interests. On the other, it is
a way of creating a public arena in which controversial issuesin principlecan
be resolved, or at least handled, through dialogue rather than through
pre-established forms of power. While the first aspect has probably
received most attention, the second is at least equally significant.
And Giddens recognises the
particular role of dialogic democracy, in countering fundamentalism and
constraining violence, in ethnically divided societies. Indeed, unless
one acceptsor could even without 'ethnic cleansing' achievecomplete
segmentation of populations, there is no alternative if conflict is to
be stemmed:
Difference ... can become
a medium of hostility; but it can also be a medium of creating mutual
understanding and sympathy ... Understanding the point of view of the
other allows for greater self-understanding, which in turn enhances
communication with the other ... Dialogue has great substitutive power
in respect of violence, even if the relation between the two in empirical
contexts is plainly complex.
But communication in itself
does not generate understandingon the contrary, it may simply confirm
the worst fears of protagonists in a conflict about each other. Intellectuals
can play a moderating role (though they too can be signed up for one side
or another), but only via the media, under the banner of 'objectivity',
can a popular audience be engaged in the quest for understanding. In turn,
this requires a commitment by the media to analytical, not simply,
empirical, reporting.
The broadcaster Poilin ni Chiaráin
told a conference in Derry in 1992 how, in the absence of a democratic
forum in Northern Ireland, the media were "in the curious position
of always having to fill the gap". In that context, Butler argues
that the broadcast media have played "a critically mediative
role, facilitating dialogue". But he goes onscepticallyto define
the latter, "minimally, as the juxtaposition of separately recorded
points of view into a continuous order, thus creating the impression of
conversation".
Butler contends that there
has been a gradual evolution of broadcast coverage of Northern Ireland,
away from a simple establishment or 'law and order' perspective towards
what he calls 'balanced sectarianism'. But he only sees this a half-way
house towards a more radical pluralist policy, which would be as applicable
to the printed media as to his concern, TV:
As an interim stage, balanced
sectarianism offers a means of formally accommodating conflicting interests.
But two is not a plurality. And in the longer term, admitting the ideological
part played by television as a producer of consent for orthodox explanation,
the probable outcome of assuring impartiality between unionist and nationalist
legends will be to preserve their reactionary influence ... [T]he executive
committees of broadcast news in NI have it within their power to prefer
an explicitly anti-sectarian agenda: one which interrogates rather than
sanitises the ghastly bigotries of orange and green cultures, and which
extends the scope of inquiry to asectarian regions of contemporary social,
political and economic life.
For this to succeed requires
not only journalistic commitment but also a commitment to analysis. That
requires investment by media organisations, with public support, in journalistic
education and training. It requires a determination to allocate scarce
resources to features/op.ed and documentary departments, and to specialist
writers and correspondents. It requires a resolution to protect the autonomy
of print media and broadcasters from political and state influences. And
it requires a willingness to give individual journalists their head, rather
than trying to control the areas into which they stray.
Yet all these commodities are
in short supply in Northern Ireland. Perhaps the most telling index of
the result of this deficit is a comment by the veteran Northern Ireland
Information Service head, David Gilliland:
I think if there had been
more drive and a more analytical approach to the information that was
given by the journalists themselves, well then government would perhaps
have come under greater cross-examination.
Select
bibliography
Article 19, No Comment:
Censorship, Secrecy and the Irish Troubles, London, 1989
Roger Bolton, 'Death on the
Rock', in Rolston and Miller eds (see below), pp 118-141
BBC, 'Guidelines for factual
programmes' (1989), excerpts in Rolston and Miller eds (see below), pp
145-50 [this crucially contains the BBC's interpretation of the notice
restricting interviews with paramilitary spokespersons issued in 1988]
David Butler, The Trouble
With Reporting Northern Ireland, Avebury, Aldershot, 1995
Liz Curtis, 'The reference
upwards system', in Rolston and Miller eds (see below), pp 80-95
Philip Elliott, Reporting
Northern Ireland: A study of News in Britain, Ulster, and the Irish Republic,
Centre for Mass Communication Research, Leicester, 1976
Liz Fawcett, 'Confined to stereotypes',
in Power, Politics, Positionings, Democratic Dialogue report 4,
Belfast, 1996
Fortnight magazine (actually
published monthly in recent years), especially Wim Roefs' study of US
media coverage of Northern Ireland serialised in Fortnight 308-310
Richard Francis, 'Broadcasting
to a community in conflictthe experience of Northern Ireland', in Rolston
and Miller eds (see below), pp 56-66
Hugh Lundy, The Press and
Northern Ireland, unpublished Master of Social Science dissertation,
Queen's University, Belfast, 1983
David Miller, Don't Mention
the War: Northern Ireland, Propaganda and the Media, Pluto, London,
1994
Northern Ireland Readership
Survey, Belfast Telegraph, 1996
Northern Ireland Women's Rights
Movement, Who's Making the News?, Belfast, 1996
Bill Rolston and David Miller
eds, War and Words: The Northern Ireland Media Reader, Beyond the
Pale Publications, Belfast, 1996
Anthony Smith, 'Television
coverage of Northern Ireland', in Rolston and Miller eds, pp 22-37
Peter Taylor, 'Reporting Northern
Ireland', Index on Censorship, no 6, 1978
Simon Winchester, In Holy
Terror: Reporting the Ulster Troubles, Faber and Faber, London, 1974
Robin Wilson, 'Peace process
by soundbite', Journalist's Handbook, no 44, January 1996
Scotland's parliamentlessons
for Northern Ireland
A cautionary story of the devolution debate in Scotland (September 1998)
References
- Northern Ireland Readership
Survey, Belfast Telegraph, 1996
- 'NI group buys "News
Letter"', Irish Times, July 1st 1989
- Belfast Telegraph,
June 17th and 18th 1996, Irish News July 19th 1996
- Conversation with the editor
- Belfast Telegraph,
July 10th and November 10th 1995
- 'NI newspapers "performing
well"', Irish Times, March 28th 1997
- 'Irish News sales rise
faster than any UK daily', Irish News, May 20th 1996
- Hugh Lundy, The Press
and Northern Ireland, unpublished Master of Social Science dissertation,
Queen's University, Belfast, 1983, p49
- Edna Longley, 'In North,
photos of the same object are incompatible', Irish Times, August
18th 1993
- cited by Rex Cathcart,
'2BE consolidates: the early years of the BBC in Northern Ireland',
in Bill Rolston and David Miller eds, War and Words: The Northern
Ireland Media Reader, Beyond the Pale Publications, Belfast, 1996,
p6
- Jane Coyle, 'Controller
of BBC sets out his vision of the future', Irish Times, November
15th 1994
- Suzanne Breen, 'UTV's colour
change pays off', Sunday Tribune, June 4th 1995
- ibid
- Information from BBC NI
research section
- Information from a senior
UTV journalist, formerly head of factual programming for the station
- Submission by the director-general
of RTE, Forum for Peace and Reconciliation, Dublin Castle, June 2nd
1995
- Breen, op cit
- Muiris Mac Conghail, 'Television
representation of Northern Ireland', paper delivered at the John Hewitt
International Summer School, Co Antrim, July 1993
- Adrian Guelke, Northern
Ireland: The International Perspective, Gill and Macmillan, Dublin,
1988
- A cursory perusal of minutes
of the Belfast branch of the National Union of Journalists in recent
years reveals this to have been a running sore.
- The writer is a member
of the course committee for the University of Ulster courses.
- David Miller, Don't
Mention the War: Northern Ireland, Propaganda and the Media, Pluto,
London, 1994, p108 (my emphasis)
- Report of External Assessors
on BBC NI News and Current Affairs Programmes, unpublished report
by BBC NI senior management to the advisory Broadcasting Council, February
1996. It is worth pointing out that the other two assessors commissioned
took a less critical view than this writer.
- Liz Fawcett, 'Confined
to stereotypes', in Power, Politics, Positionings, Democratic
Dialogue report 4, Belfast, 1996, p22-3
- Suzanne Breen, 'Inside
story', in Who's Making the News?, Northern Ireland Women's Rights
Movement, Belfast, 1996, p9
- Data, including from NIWRM
study and her own researches, are in Fawcett, op cit, p22.
- Anthony Giddens, Beyond
Left and Right: The Future of Radical Politics, Polity Press, Cambridge,
1994, p245
- Robin Wilson, reviewing
Mark Thompson, Forging War: The Media in Serbia, Croatia and Bosnia-Hercegovina,
Article 19, London, 1994, in Fortnight 337, March 1995, p44
- Northern Ireland Readership
Survey, Belfast Telegraph, 1996
- Rory O'Donnell, 'Modernisation
and social partnership', in New thinking for New Times, DD report
1, Belfast 1995, pp 24-33
- Frameworks for the Future,
Northern Ireland Office, Belfast, 1995. A concise exegesis can be found
in 'The framework outlines', Fortnight 337, March 1995, p13;
and see the hostile response from even the moderate unionist Jeffrey
Donaldson in the following issue, no 338, p20.
- Conor Gearty, Terror,
Faber & Faber, London, 1991, p1
- Adrian Guelke, The Age
of Terrorism and the International Political System, I B Tauris,
London, 1995
- BBC style guide, reproduced
in Rolston and Miller eds, op cit, pp 142-4; see also section d of this
paper.
- interviewed for a forthcoming
DD report on pluralism and parity of esteem in Northern Ireland
- 'Broadcast ban leads terror
fight', Guardian, October 20th 1988
- cited in Article 19, No
Comment: Censorship, Secrecy and the Irish Troubles, London, 1989,
pp 23-4
- ibid, p26
- 'Broadcasting ban "contradictory"',
Irish Times, May 4th 1989
- Rex Cathcart (historian
of BBC Northern Ireland), 'Hearing no evil', Fortnight 267, November
1988, p7
- Article 19, op cit, pp
29-30; international press reaction is detailed in Index on Censorship,
no 2, 1989
- 'Judge says broadcast ban
"half-baked"', Independent, November 22nd 1989
- 'People "losing power"',
News Letter, January 9th 1989
- 'Annesley backs gagging
of media', Irish News, July 7th 1990
- Fionnuala O Connor, 'The
media men roll over', Fortnight 268, December 1988, p11
- Interview with Timothy
Renton on Radio Ulster, October 19th 1989, cited by Robin Wilson in
'If you can't beat the bombers, then remove them from earshot', Fortnight
278, November 1989, p12
- Deaglán de Bréadún,
'The turbulent history of Section 31', Irish Times, October 10th
1988
- Deaglán de Bréadún,
'The mushroom cloud over Section 31', Irish Times, March 28th
1989
- Submission and oral evidence
by the director-general of RTE, Forum for Peace and Reconciliation,
Dublin Castle, June 2nd 1995
- Article 19, op cit, pp
41-3.
- Liz Curtis, 'The reference
upwards system', in Rolston and Miller eds, op cit, pp 80-93
- On a grander scale this
was pursued two decades later in the public domain by the independent
Opsahl commission, which received more than 550 submissions and carried
out extensive public hearings; ironically, media coverage was patchysee
Andy Pollak ed, A Citizens' Enquiry: The Opsahl Report on Northern
Ireland, Lilliput, Dublin, 1993.
- David Butler, The Trouble
With Reporting Northern Ireland, Avebury, Aldershot, 1995, p63
- cited in ibid, loc cit
- cited by Anthony Smith,
'Television coverage of Northern Ireland', in Rolston and Miller eds,
p31
- cited by Miller, op cit,
p28
- ibid, p34
- Peter Taylor, Beating
the Terrorists, Penguin, London, 1990, p99
- Peter Taylor, 'Reporting
Northern Ireland', Index on Censorship, no 6, 1978
- Richard Francis, 'Broadcasting
to a community in conflictthe experience of Northern Ireland', reproduced
in Rolston and Miller eds, op cit, p58
- Cathcart, loc cit
- Curtis, op cit, p86
- Michael Leapman, The
Last Days of the Beeb, Allen & Unwin, London, 1986, pp 290-331;
Miller, op cit, p 64. This writer was subjected to his one and only
death threat for organising a public showing of the then banned programme
in Belfast.
- ibid, pp 38-40. See also
'Police get TV film of funeral', 'RTE hands over tapes of Andersonstown
to RUC', Irish Times, March 24th and 25th 1988.
- 'Thatcher "furious"
over programme', Irish Times, April 29th 1988
- 'Tories enraged as BBC
shows Gibraltar programme', May 6th 1988
- Roger Bolton, 'Death on
the Rock', in Rolston and Miller eds, op cit, p127
- Miller, op cit, pp 43-7
- Paul Lashmar, 'MoD leak
was behind attack on Thames TV', Observer, March 19th 1989
- BBC, 'Guidelines for factual
programmes' (1989), excerpts in Rolston and Miller eds, op cit, p148
- Stephen Castle, 'Fury at
Major's Unionist deal', Independent on Sunday, February 20th
1994
- Gerry Moriarty, 'Major's
measures on North win widespread support', Irish Times, September
17th 1994
- In terms of RTE interviews
with SF representatives, for example, see Cathal Mac Coille, 'SF granted
lion's share of airtime', Sunday Tribune, March 13th 1994
- Paul Foot, Who Framed
Colin Wallace?, Macmillan, London, 1990
- Colin Wallace, 'Smear tactic
aimed to "keep the peace"', Irish News, January 6th
1997
- Suzanne Breen, 'Smear tactic
has lengthy history in NI troubles', Irish Times, December 7th
1996
- John Stalker, Stalker,
Harrap, London, 1988, pp 52 & 58
- 'RUC men lied to inquiry,
Hermon admits', Irish Times, February 20th 1997
- Miller, op cit, p100. This
writer was given just such a 'steer' by an army press officer in the
case where undercover soldiers shot dead three petty criminals at a
west Belfast bookmaker's in 1990. At the time he was working on a dummy
of the Independent on Sunday. This, or a similar source, found
its way into print in the paper's sister dailysee 'Chance encounter
of undercover soldiers', Independent, January 16th 1990.
- Mark Urban, Big Boys'
Rules: The SAS and the Secret Struggle against the IRA, Faber &
Faber, London, 1992, pp 60-4
- Bolton, op cit, p120
- Michael Scott, 'The "button"
comes undone', Fortnight 277, October 1989, pp 18-20
- 'British official admits
lying', Irish Independent, August 29th 1994
- David Miller and Greg McLaughlin,
'Reporting the peace in Ireland', in Rolston and Miller, op cit, pp
421-40
- Simon Winchester, In
Holy Terror: Reporting the Ulster Troubles, Faber and Faber, London,
1974, p175 and 21. See also Simon Hoggart, also of the Guardian,
'The army PR men of Northern Ireland', New Society, October 11th
1973
- Robert Fisk, 'Army regards
press as destructive in Ulster, papers show', Times, February
24th 1976
- cited in Miller, op cit,
p117
- ibid, pp 74-87, 133
- Miller and McLaughlin,
op cit, pp 435-6
- Miller, op cit, p274
- Breen, 'Smear tactic ...'
- 'Hurd's ban begins to tighten'
and 'Crucial film identified killers', Guardian, May 8th and
June 2nd 1989
- Andy Pollak, 'Journalists
often threatened in NI', Irish Times, February 1st 1995
- NUJge, newsletter
of the Belfast branch of the NUJ, May 1992
- Marie O'Halloran, 'Putting
journalists in NI under the spotlight', Irish Times, August 18th
1989; William Graham, 'Senior unionists hopeful of breakthrough', Irish
News, October 26th 1992; Dick Grogan, 'BBC dismisses Trimble's criticism
of news coverage', Irish Times, January 22nd 1996
- Miller, op cit, p105
- Jamie Dettmer, 'Oxygen
supply in trouble', Times, April 5th 1989; Andy Pollak, 'Masters of
propaganda wage war in NI', Irish Times, August 17th 1989
- Miller, op cit, pp 156-9
- Maurice Hayes, 'External
forces could damage fragile peace', Irish Independent, October
14th 1994
- Simon Winchester, In
Holy Terror: Reporting the Ulster Troubles, Faber and Faber, London,
1974, p124
- cited in Eamonn McCann's
polemical pamphlet, The British Press and Northern Ireland, Northern
Ireland Socialist Research Centre, no date
- Amnesty International's
annual report, frequently damning, is a good barometer.
- David McKittrick, 'Lee
Clegg is innocent, OK?', Independent, January 25th 1995
- Lundy, op cit, p51
- 'We still have Northern
Ireland?', Fortnight 271, March 1989, p19
- There are, of course, several
exciting European tabloids, such as Libération or El
Pais; what distinguishes the British variant is the explicit counterposition
to 'quality' broadsheets and their up-market readers.
- Lundy, op cit, pp 53-4
- Philip Elliott, Reporting
Northern Ireland: A study of News in Britain, Ulster, and the Irish
Republic, Centre for Mass Communication Research, Leicester, 1976,
p2-8
- Roy Greenslade, 'The forgotten
tragedy', Guardian, April 12th 1993
- Mary Holland, 'And now
the prevention of television Act?', Irish Times, July 23rd 1992
- 'Sectarian strife "not
news"', Irish Independent, November 21st 1991
- Mark Brennock, 'When the
terrible news doesn't shock any more', Irish Times, August 28th
1992
- Miller, op cit, p111
- according to a high-level
figure in education in Northern Ireland, who met the Clintons shortly
after the Canary Wharf bomb
- This emerged in focus groups
organised by Democratic Dialogue earlier this year.
- Wim Roefs, 'Just the same
old story?', Fortnight 310, October 1992, p41
- John H Whyte, Interpreting
Northern Ireland, Clarendon, Oxford, 1990
- cited in Kevin Kelley,
The Longest War: Northern Ireland and the IRA, Zed Books, London,
1988, p296
- 'Under fire', Hot Press,
December 17th 1987
- Article 19, No Comment:
Censorship, Secrecy and the Irish Troubles, London, 1989, pp 100-1
- Under pressure in late
1993 to reveal the contents of his agreement with Mr Adams, Mr Hume
notoriously claimed he did not give "two balls of roasted snow"
for the concerns of journalists about the transparency of the process.
- The writer has worked,
as a staffer and freelance, in three Belfast newspaper offices, apart
from his period as editor of Fortnight and Northern Ireland correspondent
of the Independent on Sunday, has executed numerous radio and
TV interviews for BBC and RTE, and is chair of the Belfast branch of
the National Union of Journalists.
- Robin Wilson, 'Peace process
by soundbite', Journalist's Handbook, no 44, January 1996, p27
- Bogdan Denitch, Ethnic
Nationalism: The Tragic Death of Yugoslavia, University of Minnesota
Press, Minneapolis, 1996, p20
- Alex Schmid, 'Violent activists
in the Netherlands', in Juliet Lodge ed, The Threat of Terrorism,
Wheatsheaf, Brighton, 1988, p149
- ibid, pp 152-3
- Both cited by Robert Fisk,
The Point of No Return: The Strike which Broke the British in Ulster,
Andre Deutsch, London, 1975, p127
- Colum McCaffery, 'Hear
no evil', Fortnight 330, July/August 1994, p28
- Chantal Mouffe, The
Return of the Political, Verso, London, 1993, p6
- Attract Ingram, A Political
Theory of Rights, Clarendon, Oxford, 1994
- Giddens, op cit, pp 15-16
- ibid, pp 244-5
- 'NI minister says broadcasting
ban on SF will stay', Irish Times, August 6th 1992
- Butler, op cit, p86
- ibid, pp 161-2
- Cited by Miller, op cit,
p155
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