Opinion

Tom Kelly: Thousands died and many more were injured in our conflict - for what?

Tom Kelly

Tom Kelly

Tom Kelly is an Irish News columnist with a background in politics and public relations. He is also a former member of the Policing Board.

The film shown on Channel 4 on Saturday detailed the deaths of eleven people during the Ballymurphy Massacre
The film shown on Channel 4 on Saturday detailed the deaths of eleven people during the Ballymurphy Massacre The film shown on Channel 4 on Saturday detailed the deaths of eleven people during the Ballymurphy Massacre

ACCORDING to statistics, between 35,000 and 55,000 here were directly affected by the conflict in Northern Ireland. Researchers suggest if the same conflict was proportionately scaled up in Britain or the US those figures would rocket to create an epic national emergency. Proportionate to our population it’s a total misnomer to minimise our conflict by calling it the ‘Troubles’.

I would go further, the protagonists, combatants or belligerents – whatever you want to call them – made victims of 98 per cent of the population of Northern Ireland ably assisted and given cover by certain politicians within unionism, republicanism and on occasion from both the Irish and British governments too.

Others in politics, the media, trade unions and the various churches took principled and courageous stands against violence. Today to feed their cult following, apologists and peddlers of propaganda for former belligerents are trying to rewrite the political narrative of that era but they are incapable of re-writing the truth. Truth will out with the light of history.

Last week I forced myself to watch Mother’s Day, the powerful BBC drama about the impact of the IRA bombs in Warrington on two families, the Parrys and the McHughs. The fatalities in those bombings were two children, three-year-old Johnathan Ball and 12-year-old Tim Parry. Over the years you blank out the names of victims. Worse still, you forget the child casualties. It’s less personal that way.

In the drama, when the Parrys arrived at the hospital to see their son, he was so burned and scarred that his entire body with the exception of his foot was covered in bandages. It was a heart-wrenching moment that left me sobbing. As the parents walked from from the hospital Mr Parry said to his wife simply: “For what?”

That phrase was ringing in my head all week. For what did this three-year-old toddler and 12-year-old child die?

A few days later after the Warrington bombings, a different group of cowardly terrorists from the UDA slunk into a Castlerock housing estate and shot dead four Catholic workmen. For what did these men die?

Last week we heard from the relatives of the 1971 Ballymurphy Massacre calling for a public inquiry into the murders of their loved ones. Six people died on one day and one of those was a priest, Fr Hugh Mullan, shot by the British army while tending the wounded innocent victims. Within days other residents were also shot by the army. For what did Fr Mullan and the others die?

The same could have been said of the first victim of the conflict, 28-year-old John Scullion, murdered by the UVF. For what did he die? Or the murders of the unborn twins in the Omagh bombing. For what? Or the death of 87-year-old Barney Green in Loughinisland? For what? Or more recently the murder of 25-year-old PSNI officer Ronan Kerr? For what?

You could literally fill this newspaper for a month on behalf of all victims from whatever side asking the question ‘for what?’

If it was to create a united Ireland, then it failed miserably. If it was to blunt equality and civil rights, it fast-tracked the exact opposite.

If it was to create a power-sharing executive in 1998 that was already available in 1974, then those that continued to carry out murder should hang their heads in shame. If it was for political parties who were largely responsible for the polarisation of Northern Ireland to trample on the aspirations of those who want stability now, then it’s a betrayal of trust.

There is growing evidence that increasing numbers of former IRA combatants are also asking the question, for what? For what did they risk their lives, destroy their families, cause injury to others and perhaps spend their best years in prison?

Certainly the Tammany Hall-like patronage doled out within the republican movement has offered jobs to the privileged few but for others the sacrifice they made was taken for granted and cast aside. In a startling revelation one former combatant, now a Sinn Féin worker, says in a media interview: “We put the cart before the horse. We should have tried politics first.” The late David Ervine said as much too.

Too late for the dead and cold comfort for the bereaved. If we ever get around to a victims memorial, maybe just chisel the words ‘for what?’ over Stormont.