The violence of the army when patrolling, raiding and sacking the Catholic ghettoes cemented the alienation. The tortures and brutalities exacerbated it even further. The plain and simple truth is that the Unionist Government, the army, the police and the courts had lost all credibility. The Unionists had for years resisted even the most minor demands for justice. The PM Brian Faulkner had been denounced as ‘treacherous’, ‘devious’ and ‘untrustworthy’ by members of his own Cabinet and by the ex-PM Terence (later Lord) O’Neill. He was hardly the man to inspire confidence in anyone.

The RUC had been condemned by two British Commissions (Scarman and Hunt). Many were party to what their own commander, Sir Arthur Young, termed "a conspiracy of silence". The courts were denounced for their bigoted magistrates and unjust sentences. For example, between 28 October 1971 and 16 February 1972, no fewer than ten men were acquitted, whether by jury or the direction of the judge, only to be interned as they left the court. In December 1971 alone, four men were granted bail and detained under the Special Powers Act as they attempted to leave.^[3]

As Henry Kelly^[4] has pointed out: "As for the office of public prosecutor, some idea of Unionist urgency in introducing this minor but necessary reform can be gauged from the fact that the first incumbent, Mr. Barry Shaw, QC, took up office only in April 1972, nearly three years after the idea was proposed." Meanwhile, a Stormont Government could continue to introduce repressive legislation such as the Criminal Justice (Temporary Provisions) Act (Northern Ireland) in one late-night sitting. And despite promises by PM O’Neill, the notorious Special Powers Act not only remained in toto on the Statute Book but had actually been strengthened.

The civil resistance campaign was to have important side effects apart from the discrediting of internment. Foremost, of course, was the downfall of Stormont. Lord Brookeborough had been PM of Northern Ireland for 20 years. Terence O’Neill lasted from 1963 until April 1969. Chichester Clark survived only from April 1969 until March 1971. Brian Faulkner, who had schemed for, intrigued for, and coveted the job for so long, was to last only 12 months exactly. When he fell, Stormont and the Unionist monolith fell with him.

Nor was the resistance campaign confined to Ireland North and South. Branches of the Anti-Internment League, formed in London immediately after the introduction of internment, by John Gray and Bowes Egan, proliferated throughout the ‘British Isles’ and as far afield as America, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. International organizations, such as Amnesty and The Red Cross, investigated. Reports went to the Human Rights Commission in The Hague and the UN. The Civil Rights Association co-operated with the Irish Congress of Trade Unions to involve trade unionists throughout Britain. Similarly, in many towns the National Union of Students organized demonstrations and protests against internment.

But again, the old tried-and-true tactic of marching, so successful in the early days of the civil rights campaign, was to become decisive. With internment on 9 August Faulkner had imposed a ban on all marches for 12 months. Soon those opposed to repressive legislation began to clamour for street action. NICRA, the traditional march organizers, refused — their logic was simple — you couldn’t march because it was illegal and they might put you in jail if you did! Resentment and frustration grew. Finally, in December, with the full support of the internees in Long Kesh, a group of trade unionists in Tyrone, in co-operation with Belfast and Armagh PD’s, called a march for Christmas Day. It was to go from Beechmount in Belfast along the M1 motorway to Long Kesh itself, ten miles away. Of course, everyone knew that they would not be allowed to get there. Nonetheless, despite the atrocious weather and the delights of the traditional Christmas afternoon, 4,000 people assembled in the snow and marched. The army blocked the left-hand lane to the motorway but, undaunted, the marchers swung past them and began to march down the other lane into the oncoming traffic. They got three miles before the army were able to stop them. The temerity of people, not only parading on the motorway but going down the wrong lane, was apparently beyond the experience of the army.

The march was a great success. The law had been flouted and floodgates were opened. NICRA shamefacedly had to call their own march — straight up the Falls Road to the heart of the ghetto. But the marching season was on. Marches at Magilligan camp, protests at Long Kesh, and finally the march in Derry on ‘Bloody Sunday’.

In Derry the British army showed its ‘answer’ to illegal marches: cold-blooded murder. Lord Widgery was to find that the Paras had, indeed, killed 13 innocent civilians, but that they (the marchers) "shouldn’t have been there in the first place." British justice. The death penalty, without trial, for marching against repression. Laws like the Special Powers Act. "In order to protect the law we had to break it!"

Next week saw an enormous crowd of some 70,000 marching in Newry. This time, with the world’s press there, the soldiers refrained from gunning people down. Marches became a weekly occurrence, despite NICRA’s attempts to restrain the people. Moreover, the ‘Loyalists’ began holding their own marches. The Loyalist Association of Workers (LAW), a crypto-fascist organization led by Billy Hull, held regular marches throughout the towns. The Vanguard movement was formed and parades of men in para-military uniforms — later, masked as well — became a regular feature. Somehow these marches were never illegal — only those of the anti-Unionists were so designated — and none of the organizers was arrested. Members of the NRM, PD and NICRA did not fare so well. In the space of five months, Michael Farrell, PD, collected two years jail sentences (in the form of four separate six-months sentences — none of which he had to serve), Bernadette Devlin MP received three years and Frank McManus MP got five years in all. All were appealed and the process was dragged out for several months. Meanwhile the courts insisted on suspending the sentences passed upon the ‘respectable’ MPs, Fitt, Paddy Devlin, Hume and Cooper.

Eventually, tiring of the farce, Farrell, Devlin and McManus announced that they had no intention of turning up at the courts to answer yet more marching charges, nor would they appeal. Legally, they should have been arrested at once. Political considerations intervened, and Whitelaw, the new supremo, on 27 April announced an amnesty for all sentenced for breaking the march ban. Simultaneously, the ban itself was scrapped. It had been yet another piece of bad legislation from Brian Faulkner, popular with no one, not even with the Orangemen who became increasingly militant as the traditional 12th July marches approached.

The Civil Resistance campaign, in conjunction with the IRA’s military campaign, proved to be a combination with which the Unionist Government could not cope. They had 50 years of uninterrupted rule and had become stultified and inflexible. The resistance campaign did not end internment, but it helped to bring down Stormont. Even more important, with its resistance councils it gave many people, for the first time in their lives, the chance to see that they could "seize the time"; that they could exercise a very real measure of control over their jobs, their streets, their areas. Resistance councils proliferated. Some were better organized than others. Some were experiments which failed.^[5]

When we look at the New Lodge Road though, with a council and street committees elected by everyone over the age of 16, area committees, defence, welfare, health, finance and recreational committees, meeting every week, running their own clubs, newspapers, barricades (when necessary), we can see real democracy in action. And freedom is a contagious virus. Internment has brought the people together and made them see the need for organizing from the grass roots up, instead of relying on traditional ‘leaders’. Certainly, many of the people will never be the same again after their involvement in the anti-internment campaign.

They have changed. "A terrible beauty is born."

TORTURE and brutality are emotive words. They are words used frequently by propagandists. Nonetheless, in the Northern Ireland context, in the year 197 1 — 1972, they are more honest words than the emasculated semantics of Sir Edmund Compton or the bland lies of Brian Faulkner and General Tuzo. For the simple fact is that brutality by the British army became so usual as to be commonplace, while torture was systematically — and generally inefficiently — carried out by both army intelligence and the RUC Special Branch on an increasing scale.

Britain has a record of torture in Aden, Cyprus and Kenya. Her policy, with the possible exception of Kenya, may not have been as brutal and widespread as that of the French in Algeria or the Americans in Vietnam. There seems to have been no general torture plan emanating from Whitehall, rather it was the work of a handful of soldiers — the name of one soldier crops up in both Cyprus and Aden, for example — who, nonetheless, were acting with official blessing; but torture was undoubtedly carried out. In 1957,49 specified cases of torture by British troops in Cyprus were alleged against Britain at the Council of Europe. It took a hurried conference at Zurich for the cases to be dropped.^[1]

Peter Benenson of Amnesty International has written of the torture (which was common knowledge throughout Cyprus) but, as usual, officialdom did nothing — apart from cashiering a captain in the Intelligence Corps and an acting captain in the Gordon Highlanders.^[2]

In Aden, in the summer of 1966, following Amnesty reports by Dr. Salahaddin Rastgeldi, a Swede, about torture at the Fort Morbut interrogation centre, the British Government reluctantly set up its own inquiry,^[3] under the then Deputy Speaker in the House of Commons, Roderic Bowen QC. The report, however, was a pathetic whitewash which satisfied no one — the Special Branch investigator did not examine the complainant’s medical records, and, though eventually three of the torturers were identified, on the orders of the Director of Intelligence nothing was done.^[4]

The main list of allegations against the ‘intelligence service interrogators’in Cyprus and Aden — bears a certain similarity with subsequent events in Northern Ireland, but before coming to what actually went on in the compounds at Palace barracks, Holywood, and at Gird-wood Park, Belfast, it is worth pointing out why the tortures occurred. Cyril Cunningham, a former Ministry of Defence authority on brain-washing techniques, was very revealing when he gave a lecture on ‘The Intelligence Service and the Law’ at the ICA in London in May 1972.

"What we saw in Northern Ireland was a bunch of roughs — who shall be nameless^[5] — belonging to field interrogation teams sent out as scouts. People have the idea you can make an interrogator overnight. You can’t. . . . Violence in interrogation occurs when the agency has failed to create an ‘intelligence environment’ where good public relations do not exist because the public is hostile and where overt and covert sources of intelligence are not available. If it is deprived of these it often resorts to what we interrogators call "spontaneous overt verbal examination" — i.e., "if you don’t tell us, we will beat it out of you." Cunningham went on to say that "it seems the intelligence services in Ulster were run into the ground and were scraped together at the last minute to cope with the situation: it is the same wherever we have pulled out."^[6]

The British army’s ‘expert’ on counter insurgency was Brigadier Frank Kitson,^[7] whose ill-written and indiscreet (from an army point of view) book, Low Intensity Operations, was obligatory reading. The main interrogation centres were at Palace barracks, Holywood, five miles from Belfast, and at Girdwood Park camp which adjoins Crumlin jail.

Palace barracks was the HQ of the 1st Parachute Regiment who were serving a two-year term of duty in Northern Ireland. Also based there were members of the shadowy 22nd Special Air Service Regiment. Major A. H. Watchus, who had been associated with the Joint Services Intelligence Centre at Ashford in Kent, was their CO. The torture compound consisted of four huts surrounded by a corrugated iron perimeter wall. It was located well to the rear of the camp and could not be seen from the road. It was officially called an RUC reception centre, and while soldiers guarded the barracks as a whole, the compound was protected by members of the RUC Special Patrol Group (Number 7 section code named ‘Silver’ and based at Musgrave St. barracks). It was their inefficiency which allowed young Brendan Dunlop to escape on 8 January. Nor were the Paras able to prevent one of their own number from setting off three bombs in the barracks on 27 January before he deserted.^[8] Nonetheless, security was pretty strict.

Most of the physical brutality was inflicted by ordinary soldiers during search and arrest operations. Many of them were young and inexperienced. Many were confused and frightened. Their own living conditions were poor. Constant patrolling in a hostile environment, waiting for an urban guerilla to take a pot shot at you or for a claymore mine to go off, is an unpleasant task. Nevertheless, the behaviour of many soldiers cannot be excused. A large number of the men arrested had served with the British army during the war and refused to believe that the behaviour of the troops in Belfast in August 1971 was normal. It is a convenient myth fostered by the British that "our soldiers" just like "our policemen" are "the best in the world"; bright, keen, alert, courageous — yet courteous young men, who could bear no relation to the brutal and at times drunken or Mandrexed louts described by the frightened inhabitants of Belfast. But, alas, it is only a myth. The British soldier is no better nor no worse than the American, Russian or French soldier. He will blindly obey orders (although it is true to say that desertions increased and recruitment fell after soldiers had seen what was happening in Belfast) and he will, in many cases, resort to sadism and violence.

No account of arrest, detention and interrogation in Northern Ireland from August 1971 to April 1973 could be completed without the assistance of the Association for Legal Justice. A non-political body, its members worked tirelessly to expose the brutality and torture, interviewing virtually all the detainees, compiling reports of intimidation and publishing them daily. It was through their efforts that the English press, and the Sunday Times in particular, eventually had to admit that there was a nasty smell emanating from army HQ in Northern Ireland. And all the air fresheners of Sir Edmund Compton couldn’t mask it.

The torture falls into four phases. Firstly, 9-11 August 1971, the brutality inflicted upon those arrested in the initial internment swoop and held at Ballykinlar, Magilligan and Girdwood barracks. At Girdwood barracks the brutality was generally unorganized. Most of it was the work of the arresting soldiers who panicked in their haste to get men out of hostile areas at 4.00 a.m. Fathers were arrested in mistake for sons, nephews for uncles, and so on. Severe beatings were administered as men were dragged along the streets in their pyjamas, to the accompaniment of rattling bin-lids. In certain cases the troops could excuse themselves on the grounds that suspects ‘resisted arrest’, though the Sunday Times and BBC TV ‘24 Hours’ were to highlight a number of particularly scandalous cases, such as those of James Magilton (60) and John Murphy (61), both of Clowney Street. These two men, who were in bad health, were beaten savagely. They were released within 48 hours. It had been ‘a mistake’. Nor can the stubbing out of cigarettes on Eamoun Kerr’s neck by soldiers under Major Lloyd’s^[8a] command, outside Mulhouse Street barracks, be forgiven.

But the brutality at Girdwood barracks was of a different order. Men against whom no charge had been made were held in custody there by armed military policemen, most of whom took turns at beating, threatening and sadistically maltreating many of their prisoners. It was there that the infamous ‘helicopter treatment’ was given, and that barefoot prisoners were forced to run over broken glass.

At Ballykinlar and Magilligan the treatment was even worse. What Compton called ‘positions of discomfort’ amounted, in fact, to torture, the Armagh County Court decided six months later. Judge Conaghan declared that, clearly, several army officers had been guilty of telling lies to the enquiry (the officers in question were Lieutenant Barton, Sergeant Smith and Corporal Robert Graham) and he awarded William John Moore of Portadown £300 damages on 18 February 1972. Also, Captain D. David Plant was severely criticised by Judge Conaghan. Subsequently, agreed damages of £3,900 were awarded to 16 internees and former internees from Armagh for the treatment meted out to them by the security forces. (See also chapter on Compton Report, page 127).

The second phase of the torture concerned eleven men^[9] during the period 11-17 August 1971. These men were firstly detained on detention orders signed personally by Brian Faulkner and later removed on removal orders also signed personally by Faulkner. They were secretly taken away and held totally incommunicado for a week. They were hooded, spreadeagled against a wall for days, subjected to the ‘noise machine’, deprived of sleep, food, drink and toilet facilities, and in addition were badly beaten. Part of a description of the torture, by Paddy Joe McClean (39), a remedial teacher, follows. McClean was not a member of any section of the IRA; he was merely a local civil rights worker. He was arrested and taken from his home in Beragh, Co. Tyrone, at 5 a.m. on Monday 9 August 1971. He is married and has eight children. McClean stated:

[It is thought that this method of torture lasted for two whole days and nights.] McClean continued;

When he regained consciousness he was again spread against a wall and examined by a doctor. Then followed an interrogation which was carried out against a background of bright blazing lights. His statement continued:

McLean was also strung up on a coat hook by handcuffs. His wrists still bear the scars.

The purpose of hooding was to cause sensory deprivation. Dr. Anthony Starr, a psychiatrist, explained:^[10]

The noise machines were designed to restrict the men’s auditory experience to one loud, monotonous, unpleasant noise. Starving the men meant also that their brains would not receive the necessary sugar, thus increasing irritability and suggestiveness. Being forced to stand upright for hours against a wall (43½ hours in the case of Archie Auld) also impairs the blood supply to the brain. Sensory deprivation is frightening enough for volunteers; to innocent men, dragged from their beds and subjected to it for days it was terrifying. Most lost over a stone in weight. Two were mentally affected for months afterwards. It took an exceptionally courageous man like McClean to withstand it.

The publicity given these cases was such that the Government eventually had to prohibit the use of hooding and noise machines, but Her Majesty’s men in Palace barracks were not too worried. Rules could always be bent.

The next phase of the brutality and torture has been listed by Fr. Denis Faul as being from 23 August to 10 December 1971, when interrogation with brutality and a variety of bizarre tortures took place at Palace barracks on men who were subsequently either released or detained on HMS Maidstone or in Crumlin Road jail. Most of the examples of brutality which follow came either from personal interviews or the Association for Legal Justice. In addition, two English Social Scientists, Eric Preston and Danny Kennally of the Independent Labour Party, published a booklet^[11] detailing many examples of ill-treatment.

Even though Government announcements stated that the brutality (or ‘ill-treatment’) was to stop, it was, in fact, to become intensified. By November the conservative Sunday Times^[12] had to admit that torture was still going on when they reported the case of nine men who had been held in Palace barracks for up to 48 hours and then released. Independent and respectable doctors had examined them and found the clear marks of maltreatment. Thus, Patrick O’Neill, arrested on 2 November, was so badly beaten at Girdwood barracks that he was unable to return to work for three months. J. P. Lane, a surgeon at the Mater Hospital and a former officer of the Royal Army Medical Corps, testified that O’Neill’s left heel was fractured and that the soles of his feet bore the marks of some form of bastinado (a carpet rod). P. L. O’Neill, arrested on 13 November and examined in Crumlin Road jail five days later by Dr. Conor Gilligan, had extensive bruising to the "face, chest, abdomen, lumbar areas, groin, thighs, hands." The extent of the bruising on the abdomen on Patrick McGee, Gerard Maxwell, James Quinn, Thomas Sinclair, Seamus Lynch, John Watson and Michael Nelson was given by other doctors.^[13] In addition to severe bruising, Nelson had "a traumatic perforation of the ear drum."

Dr. J. P. Lane and these other doctors were, unfortunately, in a small minority in their profession. All their protests to official channels were relentlessly blocked. The General Medical Council refused to comment on the behaviour of army doctors at the interrogation centres. Likewise, the British Army Medical Authorities refused to comment or to act. Consequently, many doctors were involved in torture-centre activities, either actively or passively. Their first function was to ascertain whether men were 'robust' enough to stand up to 'interrogations. In some cases men with weak hearts were set aside. Doctors were often called in to examine men lying on the floor in agony; then, after 48 hours, they had to certify that men were 'fit to travel'.

The International Code of Medical Ethics, adopted by the 3rd General Assembly of the World Medical Association, held in London in October 1949, lays down that "under no circumstances is a doctor permitted to do anything that would weaken the physical or mental resistance of a human being." The declaration of Geneva in 1948 was even stronger. "Even under threat I will not use my medical knowledge contrary to the Laws of Humanity." Those doctors who witnessed the beating, the electric shock treatment, the administration of hallucinogenic drugs, sensory deprivation, starvation and enforced sleeplessness have much for which to answer. Certainly they have not lived up to their Hippocratic Oath.

By November 1971 authenticated reports of electric-shock treatment were coming out of the interrogation centres and were common knowledge. But it was not until 5 March 1972 that any English newspaper was prepared to print the truth. Again, it was The Sunday Times. It reported that Patrick Fitzsimmons and William Joseph Johnston had been subjected to electric-shock treatment at Girdwood barracks on 14 and 24 January. These men were only the tip of the iceberg, however; from October over 20 men had been subjected to this form of interrogation.

Moreover, from November drugs were used on some men to obtain information. On 5 December the CRA identified two types of drugs being used on selected men. In one category the drugs were Imipramine, Desipramine, Antitryptaline, Nialomide, Isocarboxid and Tanylcypromine, all of which cause dizziness, sweating, muscle tremors and hallucinations. In the other category, the CRA allege that Monomine Oxidase was used to make the victims feel elated and garrulous. Several released detainees experienced sensations similar to hallucinations under LSD. But, finally in May, came medical evidence. Tom Kearns from Newry was arrested that month and taken to Newry police station. For 48 hours he was questioned by Special Branch officers and fed cups of tea. He soon began to feel very unwell and to experience strange sensations. After 48 hours he was released and went to see a local solicitor who got him to give a urine specimen which was sent to the City Hospital in Belfast for analysis. It contained enough Amphetamine to indicate that he had been given a considerable dosage.

One of the most disturbing aspects of this case to minority representatives was that it occurred well after the Whitelaw 'takeover'. Although Whitelaw did not sign any internment orders, in the first month of his take-over more than 20 men were detained — indefinitely. Moreover, although Whitelaw may have ordered a cessation of the brutality, it continued unabated. A particularly bad case was that of Edward Duffy (17), Gerard Bradley and Gerald Donnelly (29), all of Belfast. They were arrested on 20 April, taken to the local military barracks and given a savage beating — particularly around the testicles. After 20 hours the SB men and soldiers responsible panicked and rushed them to Armagh prison. The MO there, however, took one look at their condition and refused to accept them, for fear that at least one of them might die in his custody. They were hurriedly transferred to the military wing of Musgrave hospital. Duffy was unable to appear in court with the others two days later. The others collapsed. The RM expressed horror at their appearance. After five weeks Duffy was still not fit to appear in court. All charges against them were dropped and they were released. However, since it was announced that their cases were to be heard at the European Court of Human Rights in September 1972, they were subjected to heavy army harassment.^[14]]

But this case, while horrific, was only typical. By April 1972 even the Ulster judiciary, notoriously one of the most reactionary bodies in the province^[15] had begun to throw Crown cases out of court when the only 'evidence' was alleged 'confessions' by battered prisoners. From January, at least six major cases, ranging from causing explosions to shooting soldiers, were thrown out of court because the 'confessions' were clearly the result of torture. As the accused left the court, as 'free men', they were, however ceremonially arrested and detained under the Special Powers Acts.^[16]

Army and police often announced 'inquiries' but no report was ever published. Eventually Whitelaw accepted that there must be an inquiry into the treatment meted out to John Carlin of the Waterside in Derry, after John Hume, had taken up his case. As yet, nothing has been announced.

Father Denis Faul and Father Raymond Murray (prison chaplain in Armagh) did extensive investigation into the torture allegations and found conclusively that a wide variety of tortures were used.^[17] They list over thirty, including hand squeezing of testicles, "insertion of instruments in the anal passage", injections, electric cattle prod, burning with matches, cigarettes and electric fires, beating with batons on every part of the body. Russian roulette, firing of blanks in prisoner's mouth, urinating on prisoners, deprivation of sleep, food, liquid. In addition, there were the usual threats — to prisoners and their families — bribes offered and confessions alleged. It was standard practice for prisoners in Palace barracks to be forced to stare at a peg-board wall from 18 inches away and monotonously count the number of dots for as long as 12 hours, under a glaring light. When drugs were used in conjunction with this disorientation technique the effects were most frightening.

These are no wild allegations, but carefully documented instances backed by medical evidence. Small wonder that the Ministry of Home Affairs refused to allow a panel of kcal doctors to examine detainees 24 hours after arrest. Faulkner said that it was 'unnecessary' and "a slur on the security forces." Moreover, it must be stressed, for example, that of the first 2,357 people detained no fewer than 67% of them — 1,600 men — were released after 48 hours, as completely innocent. In most cases they could receive no compensation for their injuries, however, and many psychiatrists were extremely worried about the lasting effect such experiences were bound to have on many men.¹⁸

It is worth noting that the internment periods of 1938-. 1945 and 1956 — 1961 saw virtually no brutality. It was an innovation. General Massu, Commander of the 10th Parachute Division in Algiers, ten years after the bitter civil war there, wrote with pride in Le Figaro, in 1971, of the tortures he had ordered and distinguished between them and the methods used by the Nazis which were bestial "We didn't degrade people with the water torture or the Gégenè" (electrodes run off a car battery and attached to genitals) - though he didn't mention some of the more sexually depraved methods used by his paras on Algerian women.^[19] Perhaps ten years from now General Tuzo's memoirs will relate with pride the actions of 'the fine bunch of men' in Palace barracks. Somehow I doubt it. The brutality meted out to innocent men during 1971 and 1972 in Ulster may just go down as another sordid chapter in the History of British Imperialism, but it is unlikely that anyone will brag about it — not even Frank Kitson. (See also important Amnesty Report in Appendix I, page 197).

CHAPTER 12

"IF any of these things had happened it would have been public knowledge within 24 hours" — Brian Faulkner on allegations of brutal treatment of men arrested on 9 August 1971, which resulted in the Committee of Inquiry and the Compton Report.

An introduction to the report, written by Reginald Maudling, begins:

Maudling continued with an attack on the IRA. and an attempted justification of internment.

But what of the report itself?

The Compton Report is one of the shabbiest and incompetent attempts at whitewash since the Warren Report in the USA into the assassination of President Kennedy. Even by the standards laid down by the English Royal Commission of Tribunals it falls far short of the minimum requirements on no fewer than seven counts. Lord Justice Salmon, the eminent English High Court Judge, had presided over the Royal Commission set up after the farcical Denning Report into the 'Profumo Affair'. He recommended that: (1) All future inquiries be conducted in public in order that the public could have confidence and justice "could be seen to have been done." Compton sat in secret. (2) Salmon recommended that the chairman of any committee should be "a person holding high judicial office." Compton is not and never has been such a person. He is a Unionist functionary who acted as a supposed 'ombudsman'. (3) Salmon recommended that the other members of the committee be appointed by the head of the judiciary in order to avoid any appearance of political bias. Gibson and Fay were appointed by Reginald Maudling. (4) Salmon recommended that none of the members "should have any close connection with any political party." Sir Edmund Compton, in his role as 'ombudsman', had had very close 'connections' with the Unionist Party. (5) Again, ignoring Salmon's recommendation, the committee was not vested with power to compel the attendance of witnesses. (6) The committee had no power to demand the production of documents — such as medical reports, police duty books, etc., again contrary to Salmon. (7) Initially, the detainees were allowed no legal help at all. Subsequently, after public and professional outcry, they were allowed a lawyer, but he was barred from even seeing or hearing, let alone questioning, the defence witnesses (army and police witnesses were legally represented).

From the detainees' point of view the 'inquiry' was a complete farce. They started with no faith in the impartiality of three Englishmen in hearing complaints principally against English soldiers. Even the conservative Observer was moved to comment that the appointment of Sir Edmund Compton was 'unfortunate'. It also described him as "notoriously bureaucratic and defensive". Moreover, if a detainee was not allowed to confront the people whom he was accusing of brutality, how could he identify them? No one in Girdwood barracks wore a number, and some prisoners had to wear hoods. Secret hearings in front of English functionaries, however 'distinguished' they might be, presaged an obvious whitewash. Accordingly, of 342 men arrested on 9 August all but one boycotted the Inquiry. Compton reports that "only one of those arrested on 9 August has availed himself of the opportunity to substantiate his complaint by appearing before us; this has not frustrated our Inquiry, since material for our investigations has been made available to us in the form of allegations published in the press and transmitted to us from a number of other sources." It is interesting to note what Lord Justice Salmon said on this point: "A tribunal should not base any finding on comment, on anything save the evidence given before it at a hearing." Compton, moreover, refused to accept evidence from organizations such as Amnesty International or the Association for Legal Justice. The Inquiry also ignored the police authorities' call for legal aid for the detainees (20 August).

In fact, Compton was set up by Westminster, following reports in The Irish Times and, more important from the English point of view, The Sunday Times, of persistent torture. It is clear beyond any doubt that by its very nature the committee was intended to be effectively disabled from arriving at the truth, but at the same time give the impression of concern and efficiency. The terms of reference deliberately excluded investigation into the most sadistic tortures. Moreover, the Inquiry was limited to those arrested on 9 August; many of the worst tortures came after that date when the interrogation-torture centre at Palace barracks, Holywood, became fully operational. In addition, the Inquiry was limited to 'physical' torture, no brief being given for psychological maltreatment.

Lord Justice Salmon in concluding his report observed:

The Compton Commission's task was, as Claud Cockburn expressed it in The Irish Times of 19 November 1971;

And yet, from the Government point of view the Inquiry was a dismal failure. True, the report was couched in such a way that the Unionist Belfast Newsletter could have banner headlines, 'No brutality' says Compton, while the same morning the Irish News could proclaim, "Ill Treatment Admitted By Compton". Nonetheless, this clumsy attempt to differentiate between 'brutality' and 'ill-treatment' was too grotesque to convince anyone.

According to Compton (paragraph 105): "We consider that brutality is an inhuman or savage form of cruelty, and that cruelty implies a disposition to inflict suffering, coupled with indifference to, or pleasure in, the victim's pain. We do not think that happened." In other words, what they admit as having occurred is merely 'ill-treatment' since those inflicting the 'ill-treatment' took no pleasure in the exercise. "This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you." It is a distinction which those at the receiving end of the brutality find difficulty in understanding. It is gobbledegook.

The seeming 'naïvety' of Compton is incredible. Judge Conaghan was not to be so naïve when he awarded compensation for ill-treatment at Ballykinlar and found that Compton's chief army witnesses were liars! The judge found that men at Ballykinlar were forced to carry out a lengthy series of floor exercises "which were physically taxing and of long duration" (paragraph 159); Compton prefers to call the exercises "position changes". He accepts they went on all day on 9 August. He accepts that they were "done under some degree of compulsion" — i.e., you were beaten if you didn't do them. He concludes, however, that these vigorous exercises were devised "to counteract the cold and stiffness of which the arrested persons complained." (Many were still in their pyjamas). He regrets that Desmond Smith, who had 'back trouble' connected with a slipped disc, was made to do these "position changes" all day.

If the picture of solicitous guards, concerned with the physical warmth of the detainees and, therefore, leading them (all day) in a series of "position changes", à la Eileen Fowler, does not strain the credulity, how about the following example of 'Comptonese'?;

A member of the armed forces, involved in a process of forcing men to crouch and run out to a helicopter (while batoned all the time), get in, pushed out again backwards, and dragged between rows of armed military policemen. Subsequently, when there are complaints about brutality, the RAF man becomes an independent witness!

The whole purpose of this bizarre incident at Girdwood barracks on the morning of 9 August was, Compton blandly accepts, "a deception operation". "Anyone watching would assume that the men were being transferred elsewhere while in reality they were being kept in Girdwood." Since the helicopter didn't fly off, the point of this deception might be regarded as somewhat ludicrous. Those watching from the houses which overlooked Girdwood must have thought that the soldiers had gone insane. Not so. Merely engaging in a harmless bit of sadism.

The catalogue of obscenities continued. Schoolteacher Paddy Joe McLean apparently slept in his own urine and faeces for three days because he liked it. "He could have gone to the toilet if he had wanted to." In reply to Joseph Clarke's complaint about the beating of his numb hands, we were told that, in a number of instances, as a result of maintaining the required posture for a considerable period (43½ hours up against the wall at finger-tip stretch) a prisoner would find his hands or arms had become numb. In such cases the guards would rub the hands to restore normal feeling. We were, however, told that Clarke was a strong young man who resisted, with considerable force, attempts to make him adopt and maintain the required posture. It is admitted that in order to restrain him he was handcuffed. The first pair of handcuffs were too small for him and chafed his wrists. The notes made at the time by the supervisors at the centre show that Clarke was aggressive and resisted strongly. They could not tell us how the injuries (which are now at last admitted — author's note) were suffered (paragraph 80).

Throughout, Compton reiterates that the security forces deny hitting or maltreating anyone, and that he sees no reason to disbelieve these "trained men". He is at a loss to account for the marks recorded by medical officers on a lot of the men.

The report records some dissatisfaction with the medical facilities (Girdwood, in particular, suffered from this lack of attention to medical planning). There were two medical officials, neither of whom appeared to know that the other existed until they met by chance. Moreover, owing to the rescinding of a Brigade administrative order, no medical examination took place either on admission or discharge from the camp (paragraph 336). This is in direct contradiction to General Tuzo who, in August, stated that everyone had been medically examined and that the records were available — except to the press.

In their conclusions the Compton Tribunal state that

Thus are the beatings, maltreatment and, in some cases, specific torture — men hooded, deprived of sleep and food and subjected to incessant noise for up to eight days as well as being beaten into position every time they collapsed — dismissed. Even the Observer was scathing. "Six grains of truth and a bucket of whitewash" was the headline on 21 November.

The report did, however, "horrify many sensitive MP's" and consequently Maudling ordered the setting up of a new body under Lord Parker to consider guidelines for future interrogation methods. Denis Healey, the former Labour Minister, indignantly denied that 'our boys' had done anything like that in Aden — although the 'guidelines for interrogation methods' date to 1967 — and a Labour Government.

CHAPTER 13

WITH Long Kesh being rapidly filled, the Unionist Government appointed an "advisory committee to consider representations from internees." Its chairman was Justice James A. Brown QC (56), a county court judge from Co. Down. Its other members were Reginald Berkeley (62), a managing director of the Belfast Steamship Company and "a notable figure in NI business circles." He had been a member of the 'advisory committee' during the 1956-62 period. The third member was the obligatory 'Castle Catholic', Philip Neale Dalton, South African born, English educated, a former Attorney General in Zanzibar, with plenty of experience as a colonial administrator. The press were quick to reassure internees, lest this background might make them feel despondent, that he was a good Catholic.

Like the Compton Committee, these men did not inspire confidence. Nor did the committee work, as Merlyn Rees MP, one of the ten members of the all-party delegation of British MP's who visited the camp, testified. More than 90 per cent of the men in the camp refused to have anything to do with the board. There were many good reasons for this. Firstly, an internee appearing before the committee was asked to prove his innocence without even being informed of what he was being accused. This clearly violated the supposedly sacrosanct principle of 'British Justice' that one is innocent until proved guilty. Secondly, the advisory board had no executive power whatsoever. It was ordered to merely advise the Minister for Home Affairs, who just happened to be the PM who just happened to be the man who had signed the internment orders in the first place, and happened to be the man who had appointed the members to the committee. In most cases, even if the committee were bold enough to recommend a release, Faulkner merely ignored the 'advice'.^[1]

Moreover, the internee, completely in the dark as to what allegations about him were being made by anonymous Special Branch men, was only allowed a lawyer to prepare a written submission. The lawyer could not attend the oral session to help the internee put his case to the sophisticated legal 'experts' (two of the three Board members were lawyers), despite the fact that this is contrary to all accepted legal procedures. As well, many questions about the evaluation of supposed 'evidence' remained unanswered. The committee refused to state whether it personally examined those police officers, Special Branch men or paid informers upon whose say-so the suspect was interned. Brown remained silent about this, but one 'power' did emerge — as a result of interrogating internees: Brown could recommend that persons not already interned could be arrested and put in Long Kesh!

To most of the internees there was an even more serious objection: 'the oath'. In Ireland oaths are taken much more seriously than would appear to be the case in England. Men who had not been charged or tried found it extremely objectionable to be required to take an oath never "to join any illegal organization or engage in violence," especially when, under the Special Powers Acts, the Unionist Minister for Home Affairs had the power to declare illegal any political, social or trade union group, without giving any reason. Many, too, felt that to give such an oath would be a tacit admission of previous guilt, and so men like Councilior James O'Kane, whom the board accepted was guilty of no crime, had to languish in camp for four months more before they were released. [In England, except for those holding or accepting high office of state, the oath is not administered. In Northern Ireland, as Austin Currie has pointed out, "one had to take an oath to even become a sheugh cleaner" (ditch digger).]

Brian Faulkner had said that Republicanism was a legitimate political philosophy, provided that violence was not used to obtain its ends, and yet his committee (by their own admission) tried to force innocent men to swear an oath to the monarch, an oath which is repugnant to any Republican, Nationalist, agnostic or atheist, however pacific they may be. Under this duress innocent men like Billy McBurney, Ivan Barr, Pat Shivers, Charles Fleming (67) and Terry McCullough had to take the oath in order to be released. That the oath-taking was only a charade was soon to be demonstrated anyway in the case of Ian Campbell, the only member of the Communist party to be originally interned. He was recommended for release, refused to take the oath and kept in. Two weeks later he was released anyway.

As to the actual proceedings of the 'advisory committee', Paddy Joe McClean, writing to The Irish Times of 28 October 1971, gave a fairly typical account. In an open letter to Judge Brown he said:

The Brown Committee was an abject failure. Even before Whitelaw and direct rule it had been allowed to fall into disuse and its members had resigned. They were replaced by Whitelaw's own functionaries: the British Judge Leonard (deputy chairman of Oxfordshire Quarter Sessions), it was announced on 2 May, would head the new "advisory committee to consider representations from internees," but it was little more than a piece of window dressing. The general review of releases was solely the prerogative of Whitelaw himself, and it became obvious that all releases would be not on possible grounds of "danger to the community," but on purely political expediency. Whitelaw was making little secret of the fact that the internees were nothing more than hostages