Now that Twitter has
replaced politics in Northern Ireland, as one political commentator has noted,
it is no wonder that what now passes for political debate has reached new
levels of toxicity. The Twittersphere has been running on hyperdrive this past
week as the latest ‘political’ row over Kingsmills, in particular, and victims,
in general, emerged. Whatever the arguments around the motivations for
Barry McElduff’s crass video, the outcome was that people were offended and
disgusted. The MP for West Tyrone has since pleaded his innocence, accepted his
“punishment”, and apologised; an apology that has been rejected by many of the people at whom it was directed. One could easily label some of the
reactions from our politicians as faux outrage, but it cannot take away the
fact that those who were most affected by the slaughter at Kingsmills, on that
cold early January night, back in 1976, felt it hard.
I feel a certain, yet
distant, connection to the victims and survivors of Kingsmills and to the
relatives of the Reavey and O’Dowd families who suffered so much in that short
window of time. I, myself, was seriously injured in a gun attack on the 6th of January which left me paralysed and living in constant pain. The turn of
every new year is a reminder of the week to come. I don’t sit at home and
count down the days and minutes like Alan Black, the sole survivor of
Kingsmills, has recounted, but it’s always there, in the back of my mind.
Furthermore, I’m sure it’s there in the back of my parent’s and sibling’s
minds, who were also there, in our living room, to witness the shooting and its
aftermath. All victims feel it more, the sense of loss, on the
anniversaries. This is why it’s important to be conscious of their
feelings at “their” time of the year.
This was one of the
reasons why I decided to intervene on Twitter to ask South Belfast MLA,
Christopher Stalford, to remove his tweet which featured a “satirical” cartoon depicting the aftermath of the Kingsmills massacre. The picture showed a
representation of the red minibus that carried the workmen, riddled with bullet
holes, with ten streams of blood, representing the lost souls, flowing from the
back doors onto the country lane.
While I am the type of person who is not easily offended or
disgusted, this macabre image shocked me to the core. It immediately made
me think of Peter Gibson, a man I have never met, but who, on the new BBC documentary series “Survivors”, spoke of how he had had to wash away the pool
of blood in his dead father’s driveway, after his murder by the IRA in 1993.
It brought my mind back to a place where I imagined how my family would
have had to dispose of the blood-soaked settee I had been sitting on, when UFF
gunmen decided I would be their first victim of 1994.
The cartoon, as explained by the artist, Brian John Spencer, was intended to be a satirical
comment on the Barry McElduff controversy alongside the oft-cited Sinn Fein
“red-lines”, supposedly placed on the never-ending merry-go-round of political
negotiations at Stormont. He claimed that he “never intended to cause any
hurt” and that his thoughts were “with the Kingsmills families”. But,
what if the picture did cause harm? What if he caused hurt to the
Kingsmills families, or anyone else who has been traumatised by their
experiences?
The artist has made it
clear that he has no regrets. The point of the piece was to make a
political point. To criticise the Sinn Fein position. And he takes solace
in the fact that the vast majority of responses he received, from Unionists,
were positive. The political point was
the message that was picked up and conveyed by Mr Stalford, when he added the
tag line, “Sinn Fein: offended by everything and ashamed of nothing.” The
political point had to be made first and foremost. The grotesque and
macabre nature of the image was secondary. Calls on Mr Stalford, to take
down the image, fell on deaf ears. He would not be dictated to by the
Sinn Fein Twitter mob. All who objected to
his post were lumped into a neat category: themmuns.
In my eyes, these calls were not, as some have suggested, intended
to censor the image or to censor the artist, but instead to recognise the
potential to cause harm. This should be the first thought in the mind of
anyone who puts up a post on any media platform. Political representatives
should know this better than anyone. They should be more responsible. They should not be weaponising victims and
survivors for their own party-political ends.
For too long have victims and survivors been used as political
footballs. They get kicked around until
they are threadbare and deflated; leaving the match to peter out to a bruising no-score
draw; the sorry ball kicked into the stand.
Then, when it suits the political players, a little bit of air is pumped
back into it: game on for another 90 minutes.
This is how the political football season goes, year on year. Many of our politicians are seasoned
professionals. Some bag themselves
lucrative transfers to the up and coming teams: instinctively knowing when to
jump ship. They have no issue play on a
wet Wednesday night in Fermanagh. They
play to and are cheered on by their loyal ultras who revel in getting one over
on their old rivals. Every tactic, every
pass, every attack is decided upon in the changing rooms before the match. It’s all about building up a good cup run
before the big-two final showdown: Election Day. The key is a solid defence; especially
against your closest rivals, your own side.
Keep risky plays to a minimum.
This is something Mr Stalford knows all too well.
When I last asked him and his party colleagues to take a risk,
which could make a real and tangible difference to a significant number of severely
injured victims, the response was telling.
The occasion was, fittingly, the final session of business of the
Stormont Assembly (25th January 2017) before it closed for another election. I was there with a delegation from the WAVE
Trauma Centre giving evidence to the Committee for the Executive Office on the
Pension for the Injured. I asked Mr
Stalford if he would be willing to support a pension for all severely injured
victims, even those who were involved with paramilitary organisations. On a personal level, I would consider the
implementation of an all-inclusive pension, one that does not exclude anyone,
even those who pulled the trigger on me, to be a gesture of true and meaningful
grace and reconciliation for our society.
Mr Stalford was clearly of a mind
to disagree:
This is where we, victims and survivors, and society in general,
find ourselves. Caught between the
ballot box and the ballot box. Many of
our politicians, not all, think in terms of election cycles. Long term thinking, that could bring a
modicum of dignity to some of the most vulnerable people in our society, is
worthy of a red card in the Cup Final.
Own goals count as double. The
best form of defence is attack. Play to
the ultras. Keep them singing in the
stands. Keep them buying the season
tickets even though their team never seems to really win. Season after season.
There must be another way forward.
I would tend to agree with Barney Rowan who has, for a long time,suggested that we take the issues that affect victims and survivors out of the hands of our elected politicians. Election
after election makes it difficult for them to take the hard decisions; to look
at their base and be honest with them; to do the right thing and suffer the
consequences at the polls. I personally believe that Mr Stalford and his
colleagues would not face the same fate that befell the man, to whom so many profess
their faith. Was he not the one who
proclaimed: Blessed are the peacemakers?
The same man who asked his followers to turn the other cheek. Who healed the cripple. Maybe if these politicians sat back and
realised that they have a responsibility to make this society a better place by
first, doing no harm. Maybe.
But then again, maybe I am being too hard on our politicians. They are after all, human beings like the
rest of us. Caught up in the legacy of
our many years of conflict and violence.
Hurt and traumatised individuals who lash out against those who harmed
our tribe. Steeped in the bigotry and sectarianism
that has permeated our society for generations.
We are all, if we are truly honest with ourselves, in some ways, and at
certain times, guilty of feeding into the toxicity. We try our best but the mask slips now and
again.
