The State Of The Union

I M looking again now at a picture taken at the funeral of the West Belfast taxi driver John McColgan, who was murdered by the LVF. In the centre is Lorraine McColgan, John s wife, her face contorted with crying, her body doubled over in grief. She is being supported by two older relatives who have a look of pain and bewilderment that is all too familiar from pictures taken at gravesides and funerals in Northern Ireland over the past 30 years. To the left, as you observe the picture, is John and Lorraine s son, Sean, a lovely looking 11-year-old kid not unlike my own son, Rowan. There is, on his face, a look of profound shock and sadness. He couldn t be expected to understand what s going on around him. How could he? And yet you know that there is one cruel truth that he has understood, too well. His world has been torn apart. His father is dead now, as dead as dead can be. He is gone, and nothing will ever be the same.
Suzanne Breen s report in The Irish Times, alongside the picture, was about the most awful, harrowing, sorrowful thing I ve read in years. Sean had spoken to UTV before the funeral and he had asked the question that any child would ask about a father who s been gunned down in cold blood. Why did they kill my daddy? he said before going on to pay the simplest and most moving tribute imaginable to the man that the LVF, or the UDA, had shot five times in the back of the head. I loved him, Sean said. He was big and brought me everywhere.
Sean s sister, Mairiad, all of nine years of age, had written a letter to her father. To the best daddy in the world, she wrote. I hope you are looking down on us. We will say prayers for you. I will help my mummy in the house. I will not fight with Sean. We will never forget you. You were a special daddy, to all the family. We love you very much.
At the graveside, Suzanne Breen reported, Sean laid an extra floral tribute to his father. The card read: I love you millions.
THE first time I read the story I found it impossible to hold back the tears. Almost a week later, it still has the same devastating impact. More than anything else, it is probably the bare beauty and innocence of the words of love expressed by John McColgan s children that make it all so terrible to contemplate, in a way that, you imagine, would pierce even the stoniest of hearts.
To the right of the report on the McColgan funeral, on the same page, a headline informs us: LVF Violence To Continue As Death Threats Issued Against Catholics. Below it is another headline: DUP Calls On Trimble To Leave Fundamentally Flawed Talks. And on the opposite page, Frank Miller reports on the London press conference at which the Ulster Unionist MP Jeffrey Donaldson ripped up the Framework Document to the tune of sniggers from his party leader David Trimble and the promise from the latter that Unionists could always say No. After all, Trimble is reported to have said, it would be going back to what we do best.
The juxtaposition is chilling. Here are the elected leaders of Unionism engaging in pathetic amateur theatrics, each one trying to upstage the other in relation to how obstinate they can be while all around them bloody, sectarian murder is being perpetrated in the name of Unionism itself.
Yes, the current wave of violence began with the murder of the head of the LVF, Billy Wright, in the Maze, by the INLA. Yes, the killing was utterly reprehensible, and stupid, and wrong. And yes, the INLA are a ruthless murdering rabble whose actions no sane or decent person could ultimately justify.
But the campaign of sectarian terror, in which innocent Catholics, with no involvement in paramilitary or even political activities of any kind, are being selected for no reason other than that they are the ultimate easy targets, and murdered, is on another level entirely. There can be no doubt that it is designed to goad the IRA back into military activity. There can be no doubt, either, that it is the kind of provocation which could push Northern Ireland over the brink and into the most appallingly violent phase yet in its tortured history.
And yet there is nothing to suggest that David Trimble, Jeffrey Donaldson, Ian Paisley or any of the other leaders of mainstream Unionism see this bloodshed as anything other than a negotiating opportunity. There is nothing to suggest that they are willing to take on the real leadership role that Unionism desperately needs if the North of Ireland is to be saved from the ultimate in savagery. Because right now, it is a society teetering on the edge of catastrophe.
The IRA have been guilty of some appalling things in the past but it is impressive that they have held back, or been held back, from retaliation by those in the Republican movement who are committed to finding a peaceful solution. But if this killing goes on, then the position of those who are opposed to a violent response will become more and more difficult to sustain.
I believe that the bombing in Enniskillen was a turning point for many who are involved in Republican politics. There were some who simply could not contemplate the possibility that the IRA would be responsible for another atrocity of this kind. And in particular they were moved to seek another way, exclusively, to achieve their ends as a result of the impression made on them by the response of Gordon Wilson, whose daughter Marie had died in the rubble beside him, after the bombing.
Many people thought then: we cannot let this go on. There is no other thought now that makes any sense.
We cannot let this go on. One look into Sean McColgan s eyes should be enough to tell you that.
It s long past the time when people on every side of the political divide should have sat down and begun the process of hammering out an agreement. But you can t turn back the clock.
The time to start in earnest is now.
Niall Stokes
Editor