A FREE and unsolicited tee-shirt came through the post for me from a company which is advertising a campaign for something or other – the slogan emblazoned on the garment is totally meaningless. Above the saintly face of a bearded man are written the words “Do something good this year.”

It being a long time since I felt obliged to wear my politics on my bosom – I am no longer the tongue-tied girl of yesteryear – the tee-shirt was put away against the day when a young person in the house might be frantic for a change of clothing.

As is ever the way, ’twas myself that woke up one morning without a clean stitch in the house. On went the tee-shirt. I wasn’t going anywhere; no-one would see it in the privacy of my own home. Hours later I quite unthinkingly went downtown to meet a friend. The proprietor of the cafe was pleased to see me. “Glad to see you’ve mellowed and gone back to God,” he said. The trouble is, he believed it. That’s the trouble with slogans – you wear them, people think you mean them.

It’s also the advantage. The tee-shirt worn, placard held up, is a quick, easy and effective way to get your message across. I’m still partial to a placard – there are some people to whom I wouldn’t be bothered talking and it does the job for me.

IMAGINATIVE DEMO

A group which appreciates, more than any other group does, the propaganda value of the oul’ placards is the Socialist Workers Movement. Wherever there is a demo, there you’ll see the familiar black-bordered, starkly printed, black and white placards of the SWM. Unlike other groups, which improvise as they go along and are often caught short, wandering anonymously in the crowd, the disciplined SWM has a veritable store-house of the yokes. It takes but a minute to write the demand of the day under the logo, a brass neck to position yourself at the head of the crowd and hey presto – the television cameras show that the Socialist Workers Movement is leading thousands to the promised land.

Hundreds of people have engaged in painstaking preparation over a number of months to ensure that things go smoothly but they didn’t think to bring along a banner and so the SWM gets all the credit. Fair play to them. They’ve been at it for decades, everybody knows their tricks and anyone who objects should take a page from their copy-book. You want the credit, bring the placard.

A beautifully example of the SWM at work occurred in Derry recently when thousands of people marched through the city. Martin McGuinness was the only person selected to address them so it’s fair to say that though all political tendencies were welcome to take part (the Provos are partial to a crowd too and wouldn’t turn anyone away) the prevailing flavour was Republican.

Guess what? Right first time. Up there in the front ranks were the members of the SWM, less than a dozen of them, but with more than a few dozen placards, which were distributed like candy to the hordes of children who always flock to these demos. No other organisation had a placard in hand, never mind to spare.

Fair play to the pied pipers of the SWM!

The marchers moved off and shortly after came to a halt outside a British army watch tower. That’s when the TV cameras moved in, having been told in advance of the imaginative demo for which Republicans are famous. Much work, flair and preparation had gone into the Walls of Jericho pageant which now took place.

GREAT PROPAGANDA

The children of veteran Republican families stepped forward with their bin-lids (you wouldn’t believe how rare metal bin-lids are today. The town must have been scoured for them) and with those potent symbols of yesteryear, which had been beautifully painted by international artist Locky Morris, they started to bang on the walls of the watch-tower. The cameras started to roll.

And guess what? Right again. The SWM ushered its raggle-taggle group of children, not one of whom they had ever met in their lives before, I suspect, into the space which had been cleared for the other children. Their wee placards said “Troops out”, a slogan which at one and the same time allied the SWM with the Republicans but preserved a safe political distance lest anyone should call them fellow-travellers or accuse them of riding on Provo coat-tails. Sure the world and its political spouse is in favour of removing armed soldiers from all the streets in all the world.

The SWM didn’t just get itself onto the news as co-equal leaders of the pack: when the IRA cease-fire is announced and an agreed Ireland is eventually achieved, and a slew of TV documentaries are shown in commemoration of that great day, which will explain who did what, at what cost, sacrifice and by dint of what sheer hard work, there will be seen the SWM, faithful down the decades, leading the third generation of struggle to victory.

Nice one, what? The SWM wore the tee-shirts, brought the placards, and analysed correctly that gormless wee wains would follow anyone who offered a bit of fin. It was a great propaganda coup. Fair play to them.