POLITICS

'Great hatred, little room': another act of the ancient and unending Irish drama

BRUCE ANDERSON

With the exception — one hopes — of the intelligence services, no one knows why the IRA ended its ceasefire, or whether its decision is irrevocable. Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness did not want to restart the fighting, and are probably still trying to persuade their colleagues on the Provision- als' Army Council to agree that the the Docklands bomb should be a one-off. But will they succeed? It is hard to find clues as to the mental processes of Slab Murphy, Dessie Hughes, Gerry Kelly, Brian Gillen and others who will decide — perhaps they already have — whether or not to restart the Troubles.

Most of these shadowy figures were never persuaded of the case for peace. None of them was likely to figure on the Kennedys' guest list: they probably would not have wished to. The international bien- pensantry is delighted to decriminalise and indeed glamorise a couple of Provos; but those places have been taken up, by Adams and McGuinness. No one is going to glam- orise Slab Murphy.

There is no evidence that the IRA believes it can win a united Ireland by resuming the bombing. Inasmuch as its assessments are rational, the assumption appears to be that a few bombs will concen- trate the Brits' minds; there is some talk of a bombing campaign between now and the summer, to be followed by another ceasefire.

This ignores the Prods. Tension is rising in the hardline loyalist areas of Belfast. Up to now, the loyalist paramilitaries have behaved with restraint, and they will not necessarily go to war merely to avenge the City of London. But ethnic rage is mount- ing; a couple more bombs and it might become uncontrollable, in which case the situation will become very ugly, both in the Province and the Republic. Some loyalists are desperate to strike at the South.

Nationalists feel ethnic rage as well as loyalists; this is probably a better explana- tion of what has happened than the IRA's supposed calculations. It is all David Trim- ble's fault.

Largely because of the malign legacy of the Anglo-Irish Agreement, it is not just the IRA but much of Nationalist Ireland which believes that Britain's historic role is to box the Unionists' ears. That Agreement was negotiated between London and Dublin, and then imposed on Ulster. The Unionists were neither consulted nor informed, and their anger was redoubled by the spectacle of John Hume, who had been fully informed, gloating over their discomfi- ture while Margaret Thatcher, their sup- posed defender, seemed to be dancing to his tune.

Many Nationalists now take that wretched, despicable Agreement — 'a f—ing awful Agreement' as a senior mem- ber of the present Downing Street team once described it to me — as a paradigm. No need to talk to the Unionists; the Brits will deal with them for us. And if the Brits drag their heels, we'll get the Americans to sort them out.

But over the past few months, National- ists who think like that have grown disillu- sioned; the British are not doing what they are supposed to. The Framework Docu- ment was certainly an intellectual offspring of the Anglo-Irish Agreement; much of its tone and language is offensive to Unionists. But there has been no follow-up. The British Government has made it clear that it is determined to respect the Unionists' democratic rights. There will be no second Anglo-Irish Agreement; future constitu- tional arrangements for Ulster will be negotiated by its politicians and ratified by its people. They will not be imposed.

To add to the Nationalist's frustrations, Mr Trimble has emerged, to leadership and statesmanship. At last, the Unionist case is being made and heard. Many Nationalists cannot forgive David Trimble for that.

They do have one better reason for hos- tile criticism of him. For nearly 200 years, the Orangemen of Portadown have parad- ed to Drumcree Church every 12 July. But in recent years, local Catholics have begun to complain. Last summer, the police attempted to divert the parade, but were prevented from doing so by a mass mobili- sation of Orangemen, encouraged by Ian Paisley — and David Trimble.

'You're beautiful when you're angry.' That is the point at which many British mainlanders who are in no sense Irish Nationalists lose patience with Unionism. But they should should try to understand the complexities. Mr Trimble would main- tain that he was merely asserting the right of Ulstermen to uphold their history and traditions, and so he was. Unfortunately, it is not possible for one set of Ulstermen to sustain its view of history and tradition without rubbing another lot's noses in the dust.

Middle Ireland has not forgiven Mr Trimble for his role in the 'siege of Drum- cree'. In recent weeks, he has been emol- lient, far-sighted and conciliatory. He has made it clear that he is in favour of cross- border co-operation and of political arrangements in Ulster which will accom- modate the minority. But Catholic Ireland has not been listening.

Their dislike of Mr Trimble has been inflamed by the fact that his arrival has coincided with the political decline of John Hume. Even by the standards that we have come to expect of international liberal trash, the beatification of John Hume was absurd. He is not without ability; he would have been a good committee chairman on Bogside com- munity council. It is not clear why anyone ever thought him capable of more.

He is now much resented in the SDLP. A style of leadership at once autocratic and negligent, in which he makes it plain that he regards his Party simply as a vehicle for his own vanity, is not endearing. But thus far, the resentment has stopped short of mutiny, as it has in Dublin, where Mr Hume has also caused annoyance. There have been times when the Irish Foreign Minister, Dick Spring, has got fed up at being informed by the Americans that they already know what the Irish Government thinks; John Hume has told them. On such occasions, Mr Spring has been known to point out in expletively emphatic terms that he is the Irish Foreign Minister, not John Hume.

Recent events have brought London and Dublin closer. But can they do more than wring their hands together, as helpless spectators of an ensuing tragedy? At the moment every sane person in Ireland is on edge, fearing that the curtain is about to rise for yet another act of that ancient and unending drama: 'Great hatred, little room.'