In an interview on The Narrative of Irish History

Tell me about your first book, A Secret History of the IRA by Ed Moloney.

Ed Moloney was the political editor of The Irish Times for many years. He is an acknowledged expert on the IRA, politically, militarily and – which was of enormous interest to me – philosophically and morally. He has, I believe, unique insight into the particular psychology of Gerry Adams and traces his development from his earliest years to his current position of political power and acceptance, one which was unimaginable a decade ago. He is also fascinating on the careful separation in the specific use of language between the political and military wings of the IRA and the moral implications of that separation. Language used and abused.

In this book he analyses, at great cost to himself, the way in which, through the exploitation of the narrative of Ireland, the IRA sank into barbarism. The barbarism and cruelty of the ‘other side’ was equally appalling. The historic injustice endemic in the running of Northern Ireland was a disgrace – however, nothing excuses the depths to which they descended. Most shocking was the ruthless bombing of civilians, as often with sheer political calculation atrocity was piled on atrocity. This book demonstrates that many of these tragic events were not as disorganised as we might have imagined. They were not the result of the tragic miscalculations of madmen but deliberate attempts at any cost to break any moves towards peace.

Finally, and in the current supposedly more benign society in Northern Ireland, a definition of power still lies within that circle of terror which they created. Indeed, there is no more telling definition of subtle terrorism than the story of the McCartney sisters, who, when they were looking for information about who killed their brother Robert, were met with a wall of silence – a Gaelic version of omerta. The sisters went to the Pope, they went to President Clinton and Tony Blair and they never got what they wanted. Yet there were 70 people in the public house when he was taken out and murdered. So, if you want to know what naked fear is even after the peace process in Northern Ireland, look at how extraordinary it is that nobody was prepared to come forward. I refer to this incident in my novel even though it is horrible, because any society should be deeply disturbed by such a failure of justice. I truly admire Ed Moloney’s book – and, of course, found it to be enormously helpful while I was writing The Truth About Love.

How has this book influenced your writing?

Well, I think it helped clarify my own feelings about the dangers of absolution and made me more certain that it encourages terrorism. When Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness were negotiating for peace in Northern Ireland with Tony Blair, they demanded that all terrorists be let out of prison. This concession was granted to both sides. Some of these men had only been in jail for a couple of years for carrying out unspeakable crimes. But they were all let out. What does that say to you as a terrorist? That all peace negotiations give you this amnesty? I feel that we taught the world a terrible lesson. We were all desperate, of course, for peace but the negotiators should have said no. Ed Moloney’s book implies the peace negotiations would have continued.

Frankly, if you are prepared to blow up innocent women and children because you think your cause is good, you should be prepared to face the consequences and serve your time. Yet these men and women are walking up and down small towns in Ireland getting on with their lives. It must be agony for the families of the victims to watch them. Truth and Reconciliation is an admirable aim – but only if there is Truth. And it is in very short supply in Northern Ireland. Behind all of this my belief is that you need to look at the philosophical and spiritual dimension of what makes people perpetrate acts of violence. If you do not understand that you will never stop the acts of violence. I believe strongly that love of country when twisted breeds tragedy in the same way that human love when twisted does. All love has a moral dimension. We forget that at our peril.