Lock the door and throw away the key
By Gerry Adams
Sinn Fein President Gerry Adams reflects on Long Kesh and its symbolism Today
sees the release from Long Kesh of the bulk of the remaining political
prisoners.
There will
still be political prisoners in prisons in Ireland and elsewhere, including some
under Irish jurisdiction who should be released under the terms of the Good
Friday agreement. Today’s
releases from the H-blocks will shortly lead to the closure of that infamous
prison. This represents a historically significant step forward for the peace
process. It will be welcomed, notwithstanding some misgivings, by the
overwhelming majority of people on this island.
I would like
to commend the many IRA and other nationalist prisoners who have passed through
Long Kesh and whose behaviour in the face of great adversity has been exemplary.
It is estimated that between 15,000 and 20,000 republican and nationalist
prisoners passed through. They all have a story to tell. Over almost 30 years
each individual prisoner and their families have been marked by the cruelty,
separation and, at the same time, solidarity, crack and human spirit which
helped them to survive that experience.
The closure of
Long Kesh will bring to an end a tragic, though at times heroic, chapter in
Irish history.
I spent a very
short time there, in the cages and the blocks and I have always felt that Irish
prisoners in Britain and their families suffered more than the rest of us. But
more than any other prison, prison camp or prison ship, the story of Long Kesh
is inextricably bound up with the events of the past 30 years. The end of Long
Kesh is a good thing.
The introduction of internment in 1971 was a watershed in our history, which saw
the nationalist community rise up in open rebellion against the injustice and
abuses of the unionist state presided over by successive British governments.
Thousands passed through the internment cages, from the very young to the
very old. Many of them were innocent victims of a state security apparatus that
saw internment as a weapon of terror against a community.
The denial of human rights, the imposition of a cruel and vindictive regime,
marked all internees and their families.
Internment failed and the British government cast around for another
pacification strategy. The securocrats devised the criminalisation policy of the
mid-70s and this effort to politically isolate republicans saw the opening of
the H-Blocks, the blanket and no-wash protest and the hunger strikes of 1980 and
81. Solitary confinement and vicious assaults were a daily regime for hundreds
of republican prisoners for over 5 years, from 1976 to 1981.
The strength
of character of these prisoners, their courage while confronted with enormous
inhumanity and their willingness to sacrifice their lives to end their comrades’ nightmare existence succeeded in criminalising the Thatcher
government. Their self-sacrifice proved also to be an inspiration to peoples
around the world struggling for their freedom.
This was evident during a visit I made to South Africa in 1995. There I had the
opportunity to meet President Mandela and the leadership of the ANC. I learned
for the first time the extent to which the hungers strikers were held in awe and
in esteem by the fighters of the ANC. Walter Sizulu, who spent almost 30 years in prison with
Mandela, told me of the riots that erupted in several prisons when the ANC
prisoners heard of the death of Bobby Sands.
Another ANC
comrade explained to me that up to that point they had never used hunger strike
as a tactical weapon within the prisons but after that they did. More
significantly, when ANC prisoners were privately discussing plans for a hunger
strike they never used that term. They always referred to a ‘hunger strike’
as ‘a Bobby Sands’.
But that
heroic prison struggle almost 20 years ago was at an enormous human cost both
inside and outside the prison. Even after the hunger strikes the struggle in
Long Kesh continued. For several years republican prisoners waged a determined
campaign within the prison to secure the political recognition and conditions
that were theirs by right.
That momentous struggle against great odds and the great escape of 1983
epitomised the commitment of republican prisoners to the cause of Irish freedom
and their ingenuity in pursuing that even while imprisoned.
Nineteen republicans died within Long Kesh. Some died from illnesses that were
treatable but for which they did not receive the proper medical care. One was
shot and killed trying to escape, and 10 others died on hunger strike. It is
also timely and proper to remember the seven other republican POWs who were
killed or died in other prisons in Ireland and in Britain, including Michael
Gaughan and Frank Stagg who died on hunger strike in England.
For thousands
of families, and especially the children, the weekly trek to Long Kesh, from all
parts of this island, was a terrible burden. The families endured great hardship
and were often the victim of degrading and humiliating treatment by the system.
There will be
a lot of hypocrisy around today from anti-agreement unionists and their allies
in the right-wing media in Ireland and Britain.
Nationalists
and republicans are acutely conscious of the direct use of force by British
forces and of those same forces acting in collusion with loyalist
paramilitaries. It is true that over 1000 Catholics died as a result of these
actions.
Despite this, no British soldiers, no members of MI5 or MI6, no members of
British military intelligence, no members of the FRU – the unit that ran Brian Nelson and other double agents – no members of the RIR (at least none in uniform), no members of
the RUC, and no members of the Special Branch will be released from prison this
week because the state worked very hard, and manipulated the law and justice
system to protect these organisations from the legal consequences of their
illegal and deadly actions.