The Strange Story of the UDA, the President's Husband and £10 million

On January 12th, Raytheon, third largest arms manufacturer in the world and main supplier of precision weaponry to Israel, announced its departure from Derry.

Nine of us from the Derry Anti-War Coalition had occupied the Raytheon premises and smashed up their computer system in August 2006. At the time, Raytheon bombs were obliterating southern Lebanon.
Nine women occupied the plant again last January 2009, as Raytheon GBUs (guided bomb units) rained down on Gaza. The second occupation seems to have been the last straw for company bosses.
Raytheon had set up in Derry in 1999, presented as part of a “peace dividend” arising from the previous year’s Belfast/Good Friday Agreement. The irony was jaggedly obvious. We had the campaign launched literally within hours.
No mainstream party or media outlet supported it. But in the end, we did the biz, by maintaining the momentum of protest and disruption until the company cottoned on we weren’t going to go away until they did.
The lesson, in the immortal words of the Redskins: keep on keeping on.
Next stop: Shannon.

Arising from last issue, I am asked how I could know that the late Cardinal Cahal Daly had been aware in 1990 of a case of child rape by a priest and done nothing about it.
I have read a letter to the Cardinal from the family of the raped child describing what had happened in harrowing terms, and read also the reply from Dr. Daly promising to pray for the child but giving no advice as to what the family should do or suggesting any action which he or anyone else in the Church might take.

If Bobby Charles had never written anything other than ‘See You Later, Alligator’, he’d be remembered forever. Few phrases ever entered the language so swiftly to become a permanent part of our discourse. My grand-daughter Rosie, 7, giggles it every time we say goodbye.
Charles, 14, shouted the phrase by way of goodbye to friend in a diner in Abbeyville, Lousiana, in 1952. “After a while crocodile”, came the response. So he wrote ‘Later, Alligator’ (a better title) for his band at school.
I once heard an 11-minute version from Henry McCullough. Everybody sighed, disappointed, when it ended.
Charles wrote two other nailed-down classics, ‘Walkin’ to New Orleans’ and ‘But I Do’ – of which Clarence Frogman Henry’s 1961 version is among the most beautiful recordings in all of the canon.
He drifted in and out of musical success ever after, enjoying a curious status as maybe one of the greats. Rick Danko produced — and three other Bandsmen played on — his eponymous 1972 album. He sang at the Band’s farewell concert, The Last Waltz.
Later songs were covered by Kris Kristofferson, Ray Charles, Etta James, Joe Cocker. His retrospective 2004 double album Last Train to Memphis featured Fats Domino, Neil Young and Willie Nelson.
He died aged 71, back home in Abbeyville, on January 14th.
People should know at least a little about the man who wrote ‘Later, Alligator’.

The UDA was disappointed that the January 6th announcement that they’d dumped their guns, pipe-bombs, hatchets etc. didn’t attract bigger headlines. Bad timing. UTV broke the Iris Robinson story the same day.

What coverage there was focused on Máirtín McAleese having coaxed the paramilitary outfit onto the path of peace.

In fact, the UDA disposed of its arsenal for £10 million. For “the community”, you understand.
Early last year, McAleese asked the British and Irish governments to cough up the cash. But no deal. He then pitched the proposition to the Stormont Executive. They told him to sling his hook. Finally, he brought a band of brigadiers to Brussels. At which point the money magically appeared.

Remarkable stuff – the spouse of a Head of State doing the rounds of various jurisdictions and the European Union, with his hand out, for money to persuade an illegal organisation to hand over weapons it has used for 40 years to terrorise, extort, murder and maim.

It must have come as a surprise to capo di tutti capi Jackie McDonald that it took McAleese so long to deliver. Earlier, Máirtín had rustled Jackie up an Irish passport in a twinkling so he wouldn’t miss a Rangers’ supporters’ club meeting in Texas.

(Texas Rangers? Strange. Anything to do with the fact that that the rather wonderful Sharleen Spiteri of Texas is a Blueswoman in more senses than one?)
Anyway. As Máirtín the Meddler headed off on his alms-for-arms odyssey, one UDA unit jumped the gun and kicked community workers out from their offices on a Belfast estate, explaining that these were UDA jobs now, so sod off.

Neither the PSNI nor any local elected representative nor the mainstream media thought this late-night eviction by men in balaclavas worth mentioning.

The UDA could see that it’s virtually impossible to get a secure job in the State-funded community sector in a Catholic area if you don’t have Republican credentials. Why shouldn’t the same apply to Loyalists in Protestant areas?

Why not indeed? And why not £10 million to fund the initiative? After all, who better to pay to run a community that those who have run it by terror for decades?

As for decent qualified people who might apply for the same positions – fuck off, who did you ever shoot?

The Peace Process which passeth all understanding.