Opinion

Chris Donnelly: Political culture must be sensitive to the needs of victims

Chris Donnelly

Chris Donnelly

Chris is a political commentator with a keen eye for sport. He is principal of a Belfast primary school.

An image from the video in which former Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams sings a Christmas carol with the phrase 'Tiocfaidh ár lá' in the chorus
An image from the video in which former Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams sings a Christmas carol with the phrase 'Tiocfaidh ár lá' in the chorus An image from the video in which former Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams sings a Christmas carol with the phrase 'Tiocfaidh ár lá' in the chorus

The British government’s amnesty plan has succeeded in uniting victims, survivors and political parties from all backgrounds in a manner that has not been the norm.

The pursuit of truth and justice has long been caught up in the issue of contested narratives often in spite of efforts by those very same victims and survivors, a situation not uncommon to post-conflict societies across the globe.

Other aspects of how victims and survivors are cast up exposes double standards often betraying ulterior motives at play.

The furore over the Gerry Adams Christmas charity video last month provides a case in point.

Within days of the video surfacing, a number of political figures and commentators seized on it and accused the former Republican leader of insulting deceased victims and their relatives. A commentator renowned for the consistency of his anti-Sinn Féin offerings even suggested that the video amounted to the party taunting victims who had been disappeared by the IRA.

It is worth reminding ourselves that this was a video conceived of, scripted by and released in support of a charitable cause by a third party.

The core argument of those professing to be offended was that the use of the phrase ‘Tiocfhaidh ar la la la’ to the Christmas carol, Deck the Halls, by Gerry Adams could be construed as mocking victims and survivors of the IRA and even leading to the latter being retraumatised.

In the Northern Ireland Assembly, the TUV leader, Jim Allister, went further.

After labelling the charity video as “particularly sick”, Allister claimed that it amounted to “glorifying the slogan of a murderous organisation.” He also claimed when one of the video’s actors used the phrase ‘they haven’t gone away you know’ that it was “directed quite clearly at the victims of terrorism.”

Many people will find Jim Allister's indignation with regard to the treatment of victims difficult to take given his appallingly insensitive comments about disgraced former TUV politician, David Tweed. His participation in a united unionist leadership video message only a matter of months ago alongside former UVF leader and convicted sectarian killer, Billy Hutchinson, suggests that Jim's concern for the sensitivities of victims and their families would appear to be far from universal.

A few days after the video furore, loyalists gathered at Stormont for a protest at which Jim Allister’s party colleague and TUV candidate for East Belfast, John Ross, was present when an unauthorised memorial stone was erected to mark the centenary of the state. The stone - later removed - included a quote from the founder of the UVF, James Craig, and ended with the phrase “For God and Ulster.”

That four word phrase has been prominently associated with loyalist paramilitarism throughout the Troubles and up to the current day. Indeed, it is not hard to find a UVF mural incorporating the very phrase which, by Mr Allister’s own logic and words, could reasonably be interpreted as a slogan for a murderous organisation.

Yet those commentators and politicians who determined that a charity video had purposefully retraumatised victims and indeed deliberately targeted them somehow managed to retain a collective silence over this one.

Mr Allister does not appear to have condemned this act as particularly sick nor as one clearly directed at victims of terror.

This is troubling for a number of reasons.

If indeed it is the case that references to political phrases are tantamount to retraumatising victims, where does that leave prominent comedians who have regularly and successfully incorporated parodying such phrases into their comedy sketches over many years? Are we really saying that their performances calculatedly or otherwise retraumatise and offend victims?

Whatever differences people may have here, we share a unique sense of humour.

Those are not my words, but rather those of prominent Orangeman, David Hume, eight years ago when defending the Order’s release of customised Christmas cards and other items which included the words ‘Snow Surrender’, a play on the infamous loyalist slogan No Surrender regularly used by loyalist paramilitary and political figures over many decades.

On last Monday’s Good Morning Ulster programme on BBC Radio Ulster, a prominent Linfield fan, Ivan Ogborn, used the phrase “We haven’t gone away you know” in a joking manner when chatting with the presenter, Joel Taggart. The incident did not precipitate clarification nor an apology by the host, and nor should it have.

In a wider sense, invoking concerns about retraumatising victims would logically have consequences for our culture of commemoration.

Can it be possible to continue commemorating British forces annually in the centre of Derry in the knowledge of what was done by the same military in the nearby Bogside 50 years ago?

If all victims and survivors count equally, then there would appear to be a case to answer for many.

Developing a political culture sensitive to the needs of victims and survivors is not easy in a divided society but must remain an imperative for all.

However, this should not mean looking away from cynical politicking nor to the challenge consistency poses to those who have long been comfortable hiding behind official narratives and customs to justify blatant double standards.