METAL-DETECTING USING BAKED BEANS

IRISHMAN REVOLUTIONISES METAL DETECTION PROCESS

By our Science Reporter

Can Baked Beans
A new metal-detecting system has been developed which is revolutionising security detection, prospecting and archaeology.  Previous systems have depended on magnetism and have not responded well to non-ferrous metals.  The new system responds to all metals and, strange as it may seem, it functions through using baked beans in tomato sauce.

An Irishman developed the detection system after discovering the principle, like many great discoveries, through accident.  “I often prepare breakfast of baked beans on toast,” said Dublin man Diarmuid Breatnach.  “I noticed when I tipped a tin of baked beans into the pan for heating, that some of them remained stuck inside the can, even after vigorous shaking.  I began to wonder if there might not be an attraction of some sort between them and the metal.”

Metal Detector
The Garrett Ace 150 metal detector, at the lower price range of conventional detectors, sells at €199. The new bbp (baked bean principle) detector however is currently selling at around half the price.

The idea kept going around in Breatnach’s head until he decided to test it out.  “In a friend’s garage, we ran a series of tests and discovered that yes, indeed, baked beans in tomato sauce are attracted to metal.  And we discovered that they worked with many different kinds of metals – steel, obviously, but also aluminium, copper, zinc, tin, silver and alloys like brass and bronze.  We didn’t have any large enough surfaces of gold and platinum to test – they have to be several millimetres across to work – but we thought it would work for them too.”

The Dublin man then set about designing the machine that would employ this attraction for metal detection.  Using his skills learned in a former trade of fitter-welder, he constructed the first prototype and took out a patent on it.

“I went to a small metal-ware company on the outskirts of Dublin where I knew a guy and made a deal with the owner.  They produced a few models and then we went to security firms and some metal mining companies, the models worked great under test conditions and we got supply contracts.”

Now the factory, Schiessen Ltd, has expanded its workforce four hundred per cent and struggles to keep up with orders.  In addition, baked bean in tomato sauce production has soared, with attendant expansion in the cultivation of haricot beans and tomatoes abroad.

What impact have these developments had on Breatnach’s life?  “When I started, I was in default on my mortgage and the bank was about to seize my flat,” said the Dublin man.  “Those days are gone and I’m comfortable now.  But I never forget how it started and still eat beans on toast in the morning,” he says with a smile.

End item     

RANT FOR MARGARETTA

RANT FOR MARGARETTA

(click on the title immediately above to access the video)
(A mobile-friendly version is also available, click on the author’s name below the video and the other version should show).

RAP POEM, VIDEO IMAGES WITH MUSIC IN PROTEST AT THE 3-MONTH INCARCERATION OF MARGARETTA D’ARCY, 79 YEAR-OLD ACTIVIST AND DRAMATIST, BECAUSE OF HER PROTESTS AGAINST THE CONTINUING USE OF SHANNON AIRPORT BY THE US MILITARY IN COLLUSION WITH SUCCESSIVE IRISH GOVERNMENT IN VIOLATION OF OUR NEUTRAL STATUS.

RANT FOR MARGARETTA

Diarmuid Breatnach

Forgive my confusion …

I was under the illusion …

or was it a delusion?

That we are a democracy,

not an autocracy

nor yet a plutocracy ….

That we citizens had the right

to decide whether a war to fight;

That we could choose with whom to ally …

Or was that all a cruel lie?

Listen now to the warning bell,

an Irish citizen in a prison cell;

Put there for taking a stand

against murder in foreign lands.

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

Well yes, it was all a delusion

and our government’s in murder collusion;

To murder planes turns a blind eye,

making accomplices of you and I!

Because the US is a superpower,

before them are we supposed to cower?

Are we to turn our hearts to stone,

to ignore the unmanned murder drones?

Surely not! Margaretta stands not alone —

we are of her blood and of her bone!

Listen now to the warning bell,

an Irish citizen in a prison cell;

Put there for taking a stand

against murder in foreign lands.

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

Our rulers fumble in a greasy till,

They never cared and never will:

Little women and little men,

Hucksters and middle men —

Believe me they don’t dither

to sell us out to the highest bidder!

Ach seo hé an scéal,

this is the story:
Ní chuirfidh muid fáilte

roimh – dúnmharthóirí!

Listen now to the warning bell,

an Irish citizen in a prison cell;

Put there for taking a stand

against murder in foreign lands.

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

Drone in the sky: someone’s crying …

Drone in the sky: someone’s dying …

If we allow it then we share the blame

so say we all: NOT IN OUR NAME!

Visitors are welcome from any land

but don’t come here with bloody hands;

Using Shannon as a staging post,

making our land a murder host —

we won’t pretend that we don’t know —

like Margaretta, we’re saying “NO!”

Listen now to the warning bell,

an Irish citizen in a prison cell;

Put there for taking a stand

against murder in foreign lands.

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

FREE MARGARETTA D’ARCY! FREE HER NOW!

 

 

INTERVIEWING THE PSNI ABOUT STEPHEN MURNEY — a light-hearted look at a serious situation

“Please take a seat. He’ll be right down to you” says the man behind the desk in the Police Service of Northern Ireland uniform.

Before I have much time to read the public notices, a man comes comes through an inner door and approaches me. Average male height, he’s in blue-striped white shirt and dark trousers, dark blue tie askew. “Are you the sociologist?” he asks. His hair is blond-grey and his eyes are very blue.

“Hello, pleased to meet you,” he continues before I can reply that I’m studying sociology, “I’m Detective- Constable Proctor. Can I get you a cup of tea? Let’s go to the interview room.”

Why not? I think, following him – after all, I am interviewing him. Of course it’s usually the police doing the interviewing in that room.

A woman who seems to be a civilian employee brings each of us a cup of tea.  Thanking her, I sip mine, looking around the room. I’ve heard about police interviews but I don’t see any bloodstains. They probably clean them up afterwards. Or maybe they do those interviews somewhere else, like in the cells. Then they could leave the bloodstains there to terrify the next occupants … to soften them up before interrogation.

Proctor blows on his tea, sips …. “Well, Mr. …. I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“O’Donnell… Owen.”

“Owen O’Donnell? The name seems familiar somehow ….”

“Maybe it’s my cousin – he has the same name. People call him ‘Red’. ‘Red Owen’.”

“Oh?  Like an alias?”

“Well, more like a nickname. Because he is, you see.”

“He’s a Red?”

“No, he’s red-haired. He had quite a successful career for awhile in pest control in Ulster …. with his partner Shane O’Neill.”

“Perhaps I have heard of the firm …..” He looks like he’s searching his memory.  After a moment, looking at his watch: ”Now, Mr. O’Donnell, if we could ….”

“Yes, of course. It’s very kind of you to give me your time.”

“I believe you’re studying Sociology?” looking at me over the rim of his mug.  Aha, so he does know.

I nod vigorously. Sometimes I believe it myself. The University might even believe it when they get to see my assignments.  That would be after I get around to completing them and handing them in, of course.

“And you want to ask me about policing?”

“Yes, for my studies. Policing in general, a bit about the history of the force here … and about a specific case.”

“Well of course, if I can help …. we like to help the public. That’s what we’re here for. But I’m afraid I only have a few minutes.”

“Okayyyyy ….” I say, consulting my notebook. “Originally the PSNI was the RIC –- the Royal Irish Constabulary, right?”

“Yes.”

“The RIC was the police force over the whole island.”

“Yes.”

“The whole of Ireland must have been united then.”

Proctor looks uncomfortable at this. “Aye – under British rule.”

“After the Treaty, in 1921, the RIC disappeared over the rest of Ireland …. but here it became the RUC, the Royal Ulster Constabulary?”

“Aye,” he says, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Have you any theory why it was called that?”

“What?” He looks startled, then puzzled.

“I mean, why ‘Ulster’?”

“Well, this is Ulster, isn’t it?” — looking at me as if I might be a bit simple.

“Well, only six counties of it – there are nine counties in the province of Ulster, aren’t there?”

He jerks a little at the mention of ‘six counties’, frowns. He seems to have heard those words before … perhaps they have unpleasant associations for him.

“Mr. O’Donnell,” he says …. pauses …. “perhaps we could move on to questions about the police force of today?”

“Of course! Of course!” I stammer. “I really am so grateful for your time.” I shuffle my notes. “So the RUC became the PSNI in…” I peer at my notes.

“2000,” says Proctor.

“Yes, that’s it!” I beam at him. “But why?”

“I beg your pardon? Why what?”

“Why the change of name?”

“It was thought more appropriate, I suppose. I really don’t know, Mr.O’Donnell.”

“Well, is the PSNI different from what the RUC was?”

“I suppose …. yes …. we’re more of a community police force now. The wider community.”

“Oh. The RUC didn’t serve the wider community?”

“Of course they did!”

“But how is the PSNI different then?”

“Well, we serve it more than we did before. Even more. Justice for all.”

“I see,” I say, but allowing the puzzled look to remain on my face.

I wonder whether I should ask him why his force has “Northern Ireland” in its name, when every eight-year old who has done basic Irish geography at school would know that Donegal has the northernmost part of Ireland and they don’t have PSNI there …. they have the Gardaí.

I decide not to ask and instead move on to another question. “Do you remember the RUC Reserve, the ‘B-Specials’?”

“Of course,” he replies, a faraway look in his eyes again. “They were …. part of the service.”

“Where did they go?”

“Well, they joined the Ulster Defence ….. I mean, they were disbanded.”

“I think you were going to mention the Ulster Defence Regiment?”

“Well,yes …. it’s just that many of them reputedly joined that Regiment.”

“From police straight into the Army?”

“Aye, it would seem so.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as strange? I mean, police and soldiers …. two very different jobs, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mr.O’Donnell, you are surely aware of the history of this province?”

‘Province’? There are nine counties in the province of Ulster but only six of those in the British colony. But I decide to let that go too as he continues.

“We have had a long battle against terrorist violence here. We … the police force here … had to carry guns. Many gave their lives.”

“Yes,” I say sympathetically. “It must have been so dangerous.”

“Yes, it was. It was a war! So it was a bit like soldiering for us. Then the Army came in when things really started to get out of hand. Mind you, they were doing a lot of police work too. So you might say that there was a fair bit of crossover in our roles.”

Looks at his watch again.

I rustle my notes again. “That’s great. Thanks for that background. Would it be OK to move on to the specific case now?”

“Of course.” He sits back.

“It’s about …..” I consult my notes “…. Stephen Murney.”

“Oh?” — sitting forward again, eyes narrowed.

“Do you know the case?”

“Well… the name does seem familiar ….” He waits for me to go on.

I read from my notes: “He was arrested in November 2012 and is currently in Maghaberry Jail. Can you tell me why he is in prison?” I ask, looking up.

“I understand he was refused bail, Mr.O’Donnell.”

“Ah, of course.” I refer to my notes again. “Yes, of course …that’s right. But why?”

“Why? I’m not a judge and jury, Mr. O’Donnell.”

“No of course not, Detective Constable.”

Aware of the no-jury Diplock courts that try charges under ‘anti-terrorist law’, I add: “He won’t be tried by a jury anyway.”

“No, of course you’re right,” he says, a smile on his lips.

“But why do you think he might have been refused bail?”

“I’d suppose because of the seriousness of the charges. And because of the fear he might abscond before his trial.”

“Yes…. the seriousness of the charges. They’re related to terrorism, aren’t they?”

“Yes, that’s right. We still have a bit of a terrorist problem in Northern Ireland …. though we are getting on top of it.”

“I understand the evidence against him is quite overwhelming.”

“It would seem so,” he says nodding but then stops. “Of course, we must assume he’s innocent until proven guilty.”

“Yes, of course,” I reply, giving him a bit of a crestfallen look.

I consult my notes again. “There was a lot of evidence collected at his home. Lots of photographs of PSNI in action …. even of the RUC going back for forty years.”

“Yes,” Proctor replies, looking grim. “Photographs that could be of use to terrorists.”

“In what way?” I ask, with a puzzled expression.

“Well, they could be used in identifying police officers for assassination. And he put them up on Facebook.”

“Oh dear!”

He sips his tea. I consult my notes.

“Hmmm. But apparently he’s been taking these photos for ages, in full view of your colleagues. And using them to accuse the police of harassment. Why didn’t they arrest him earlier? Before he built up such a collection … and going back forty years!”

“Well, Mr. O’Donnell, it’s not my case, but sometimes we let a suspect run loose for a while, see whether he’ll lead us to other terrorists. Also to lull him into a false sense of security.”

“Yes, I see. I see how that might work. Do you think he was? Lulled into a false sense of security?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps he was,” nodding his head judiciously.

“But according to his lawyers …. at the bail hearing … apparently his car was being stopped and he was being questioned, sometimes having his car searched, nearly every day. Sometimes twice a day. I mean, he wouldn’t be getting lulled into any sense of security under those circumstances, would he?”

Proctor gives me a blue-eyed stare, his face a bit flushed.  “I really can’t say, Mr. O’Donnell,” he says coldly.

I consult my notes again. “Oh yes, there was more evidence, apparently. He had a military-style uniform. And a BB gun.”

Proctor is nodding vigorously. He seems to be saying: “You see?

“BB guns are not illegal, are they? They’re not firearms?”

“No, but they can be used to intimidate people … who might think that they are a firearm. They can also do some damage if fired at close quarters into the face.”

“Oh dear, of course! It’s a wonder they don’t ban them, isn’t it?”

He looks at me searchingly. “Yes ….” Looks at his watch.

“I’m nearly finished, Detective-Constable. It’s so good of you to give my your time … your valuable time. About the military-style uniform ….”

“Yes?

“Apparently Murney claims …. that it was part of a band uniform. A marching fife and drum band. Could it be?”

“Well, it could … but it could also be for a paramilitary organisation. They do like to dress up in uniforms.”

“I see. The uniform was found in his wardrobe, I think?”

“I believe so.”

“Not hidden away …. like under floorboards or anything?”

“No… why do you ask?”

“Well, I mean …. it’s puzzling, isn’t it? A terrorist … sorry, of course we have to assume he’s innocent until found guilty … but anyway … a person keeping a uniform for terrorism in his wardrobe? Not hidden away somewhere?”

“I don’t know …. I really can’t read the minds of terrorists, Mr.O’Donnell. Nor of terrorist suspects. Now, I really need to ….”

“Yes, sorry. About the final piece of evidence …”

“Yes?”

“Stencils for slogans.”

“Yes. Apparently.”

“Could that be something to do with terrorism?”

“No, that’s related to damage to property … the charge is of malicious damage to property.  At a time and place unknown.”

“With stencils?”

“With paint, Mr. O’Donnell. The stencils are used … sorry, could be used …. to spray slogans. The paint is difficult to clean off and often leaves a permanent stain. Or the cleaning agent does when people try to clean the paint off.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sure you’re quite right, Detective-Constable. But that is a relatively minor charge, surely? Compared to charges relating to terrorism?”

“People have a right to have their property protected. And nobody wants to live in an area covered in slogans, do they?”

“No, of course not. But why charge a terrorist – sorry, a suspected terrorist – who is already facing very serious charges …. why charge him with relatively minor charges? Oh! Wait! Could it be like a fall-back? So if the other charges don’t get proven, you can get him on at least something?”

Proctor is giving me a steely look.  “Mr.O’Donnell, as I said, it’s not my case and I really must go now. I have so much paperwork to catch up on.”

Stands up, walks to the door and opens it, the other arm kind of gathering me, herding me towards the door, even though I am still seated. I get up, collect my notes and put them away in my satchel. Then I pick up my coat and start to move towards the door.

“Thank you again, Detective-Constable. You really have been so helpful. Thank you. And ….”

He looks at me, one eyebrow raised.

“You be careful out there,” I say, looking at him sincerely, then walk out the door.

End

NB: The characters in this piece are fictional, except for the arrested person referred to, Stephen Murney, a Newry Republican political activist (member of éirigí). The charges mentioned and the material produced as evidence for the charges are as detailed. The date of his arrest and incarceration is also as related.  He was kept in jail without offer of bail for six months then offered it on condition of not residing in Newry where his family is and other restrictive conditions, including wearing a tag.  Eventually, a few weeks ago, with some charges dropped, he was released on bail to his home, without a tag but under curfew.  Yesterday, 24th February, he was cleared of all charges.  He had been 14 months in prison.

The Mitchell Principles – a fair basis for conflict resolution or an undemocratic and pro-imperialist set of principles?

Diarmuid Breatnach

Preamble:

The discussions prior to the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, in what is often termed “the Irish peace process”, were based on six principles and the Agreement itself is also said to be based on them. The Mitchell Principles are named after George Mitchell, a US Senator and mediator in the Irish talks and earlier in the Palestinian talks of 1993.

George Mitchell, USA Senator, creator of the Mitchell Principles
George Mitchell, USA Senator, creator of the Mitchell Principles

The Good Friday Agreement was agreed in 1998 between representatives of Provisional Sinn Féin (and arguably, at the very least by proxy, Provisional IRA also) on the one hand and by representatives of the British Government on the other. Subsequently a referendum in the Irish state gave a big majority for the removal of Articles 2 and 3 of Bunreacht na hÉireann, the Constitution of the Irish state, articles which had claimed dominion over the whole of Ireland, and this was taken as a popular endorsement of the Good Friday Agreement. An election in the Northern Ireland statelet gave a narrower majority to parties who endorsed the Good Friday Agreement and this too was taken as an endorsement of the Agreement.

The Mitchell Principles are often hailed by commentators as fair and democratic and as a sound basis for peace talks. This short article sets out to test this claim, to analyse the six Principles from a democratic and anti-imperialist point of view.

1. “The parties agree to democratic and exclusively peaceful means of resolving political issues.

The terms of the first stipulation of the Mitchell Principles, in the circumstances in which the British had imposed a division on the country, in one part of which they had constructed a statelet within which their supporters, the Unionists1, had an inbuilt majority, were not only unfair but intrinsically undemocratic.

Ireland had been considered one entity by the English conquerors at least since the 15th Century. Its partition was not even imagined until the early 20th Century and then only as a response to the nationalist demand for autonomy under Home Rule2, conceded in principle by the British in 1914; allegedly partition was in response to militant unionists rebelling3 against nationalist Home Rule.

The partition of Ireland, in one part of which the unionists would have a voting majority, had first been conceived to keep the historic province of Ulster for the unionists, while the Nationalists could have the other three provinces. However, it was soon realised that Nationalists and Republicans would between them outvote the Unionists and so the boundary was re-drawn to exclude three counties 4 of Ulster’s nine from the proposed Loyalist state. Even within these Six Counties, the unionists were obliged, in order to ensure political control of local authorities, to draw election constituency boundaries in such a way as to ensure that many areas with a Nationalist-Republican majority in their population nevertheless returned Unionist candidates i.

Entitlement to vote based on home occupation and property ownership, coupled with wide-scale housing discrimination against potential nationalist voters (i.e. Catholics) kept local authorities in unionist hands until a fierce campaign for civil rights and a guerilla war forced the removal of these franchise restrictions, after which some local authorities came under nationalist-republican control. However, within the Six Counties overall, demographics continued to ensure a unionist majority.

The wish of the majority of Ireland had been for independence of the whole country and that had been demonstrated not only by centuries of struggle and uprisings but by the guerilla war of 1919-1921 and also by the bourgeois elections of 1919 under British rule, the democratic expression of which the British had firstly ignored and later assaulted by their proscribing the First Dáil (parliament) and the jailing of elected members.

The First Mitchell Principle’s stipulation that the division of the country could only be overcome if a majority of the voters in the Six Counties voted for that proposition is profoundly unfair, in that its effect is that decolonisation and national unification can only be permitted by a majority vote in that part of the country which had artificially been divided from the rest precisely on the basis that the majority of the population there was known to vote Unionist, i.e. for remaining a British colony ii.

Furthermore, the acceptance of such a principle internationally would be disastrous – it would mean that any state could legitimately invade another, annex a part of it by force of arms, ensure through colonisation and other means that a majority voted to remain its colony and then prohibit the colonised from liberating the colony and reunifying the country.

2. “The parties agree to the disarmament of all paramilitary organisations.

This second stipulation might appear at a hurried first glance as fair but in fact it is completely the opposite. It leaves totally out of the equation the largest and most heavily-armed party to the dispute – the British state, with over 177,000 personnel in their armed forces* and over 7,200 armed police in the Six Counties, along with their intelligence services. It was in fact the violence of the armed and sectarian colonial police force which had sparked off the uprising in Derry and Belfast in 1969 and it was in their support that the British armed forces had been sent to the statelet.

The main armed struggle had subsequently been between the Republican organisations and the British Army, with the armed colonial police in second place. The Loyalist paramilitaries were only third in level of struggle with the Republican armed organisations; in addition irrefutable evidence has emerged over the years of collusion between the Loyalist paramilitaries and the colonial police and British Army and indeed points to their actual direction by British intelligence services.

The British state’s armed forces do not even receive a mention in the Mitchell Principles and are left at the disposal of the state unhindered to use in any circumstances as it deems fit. Indeed, the possibility exists that the state would prevent the decolonisation and unification of the country even in the extremely unlikely eventuality that such a proposal received a majority of the votes in the Six Counties; the Mitchell Principles have nothing to say about that.

3. The 3rd Principle, “To agree that such disarmament must be verifiable to the satisfaction of an independent commissionunderlines the first Principle and sketches the structure through which the unfair Second Principle is to be given effect.

4. “To renounce for themselves, and to oppose any effort by others, to use force, or threaten to use force, to influence the course or the outcome of all-party negotiations.

This fourth principle not only strengthens the unfair Second Principle but leaves the Republicans with no means of bringing about independence and unity beyond a majority vote in favour within the Six Counties where, as observed earlier, an artificial majority militates against this possibility.

The British state, on the other hand, can and does use force and the threat of it to influence not only negotiations but its continued control over its colony of the Six Counties. It used force to achieve the colonisation of the whole country for hundreds of years and when it could no longer continue to do so, it used force to partition the country and to maintain that partition for what is now approaching a century.

The section which calls upon the parties “to oppose any effort by others, to use force” is understood by all not to refer to opposing the use of force by the British state. But not only that, in “opposing any effort by others”, i.e. those who might not be signatories, it commits the signatories to at least morally condemn those who may continue armed activities and possibly even to collaborating with forces of the state against them.

That this stipulation in theory falls equally upon the armed sections of the Loyalists as it does upon the Republicans is immaterial, since as we have seen the Loyalist paramilitaries are not the most significant armed opposition to the Republicans and in fact may be seen mainly as auxiliaries of the British State, its armed forces and its colonial administration. It is the Republicans who are clearly the target of this section and it requires those among them who have signed up to the Principles to denounce armed activities of other Republicans who do not feel bound by the Principles and perhaps even to supply the British state and its armed forces with information about them.

Certainly since the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, which we are repeatedly informed are based upon the Mitchell Principles, the Republican parties to the Agreement, Sinn Féin and the Provisional IRA have publicly condemned other Republicans (“dissidents”) for their continued resistance, have threatened them and at times administered physical punishment5. In addition, one of the Provisionals’ most senior figures, Martin McGuinness, on a number of occasions has publicly called for people to inform on them to the British authorities6.

5. The Fifth Principle, “To agree to abide by the terms of any agreement reached in all-party negotiations and to resort to democratic and exclusively peaceful methods in trying to alter any aspect of that outcome with which they may disagree,strengthens the Fourth.

As we have seen, the “democratic” methods available apply only to an area with boundaries so drawn as to leave the Republicans always outvoted by Unionists; they do not apply to a vote in all 32 Counties of the country (nor even by the population in Britain, which has shown in repeated censi their wish for the British to withdraw from Ireland). The “peaceful methods” are required of the Republicans but not of the British state. The Principles deny the Republicans, in effect, both democratic and military means to achieve decolonisation and reunification.

6. The Sixth Principle “To urge that ‘punishment’ killings and beatings stop and to take effective steps to prevent such actions is one which seems, at first glance, to be merely requiring civilized standards of behaviour. However let us examine the situation more carefully.

The state has means of ensuring compliance with its requirements – maintaining its social order, control of property and security. It uses fines, threats of and periods of actual imprisonment as punishments with the intention of ensuring compliance. It administers these through courts, police and prison service, using physical force to carry out court sentences. Unofficially, it also administers beatings, both when attacking demonstrations and on prisoners in their police stations.

Whatever one may think of punishment beatings, they were the equivalent control mechanisms of the Republican armed groups. They did not have recourse to fines and imprisonment.

With regard to “punishment killings”, these were usually carried out, it seems, against people who were proven or thought to be informers to British state forces. Looked at another way, in the absence of the possibility of jailing for espionage harming their security, i.e. the standard punishment of the state, the Republican armed organisations were either beating or killing those assumed to be endangering their security – upon which their very lives depended. The Sixth Principle in effect prohibits the use of any force in order for the Republicans to ensure compliance and their organisation’s security, whilst at the same time permitting the state all of its own panoply in that regard, including the anti-democratic special “anti-terror” laws of the Six Counties.

Conclusion:

Adherence to the Mitchell Principles removes the possibility in any foreseeable future of achieving the objectives of the Republicans, national reunification and national independence. In regard to those objectives, the effect of the Principles is to ensure the continuation of the status quo, legitimising the undemocratic partition of the country in 1921 and the continued existence of a British colony in Ireland. In turn, that false legitimisation and continued colonisation perpetuates the unjust invasion of Ireland and its progressive English colonisation nearly a thousand years ago, against which the Irish people have never ceased to struggle for even a generation but which has arrested the political and economic development of the nation and destroyed a significant part of its culture.

The continued colonisation is a brake upon the future develoment of the Irish nation and the continued sectarian and colonial rule within that colony, along with the partition of the country, also retards the development of the Irish working class as a united force able to pursue its own interests.

The Mitchell Principles, all six of them, are colonial and imperialist in effect, profoundly unfair and essentially undemocratic. Any agreement based upon them, such as for example the Good Friday Agreement, cannot help but be imbued with the same qualities.

Lúnasa/ August 2013

Note: A translation of this document into Spanish is available: Los Principios Mitchell – ¿una base justa para la resolución de conflictos? O un conjunto de principios no democráticos y pro-imperialistas?

Footnotes

1 That is those who wished to continue in union with England, as part of the United Kingdom.

 

2 Home Rule” proposed a kind of autonomy within the British Empire. The country could have its government which could promulgate laws and impose taxes but could not separate from the Empire. There existed already various different types of that arrangement within the Empire. The unionists, the majority of Protestant religion, opposed this in 1913 and threatened armed resistance by their militia, which had received a cargo of almost 25,000 rifles and even some heavy machine guns.

3 The Unionists began to recruit a militia, the Ulster Volunteer Force, led by by some politicians and capitalists of the colonial bourgeoisie and of Protestant religion, descendants of British colonists, with the support of the Conservative Party in Britain and of a substantial number of officers of the British Army in Ireland.

4 Dún na nGall (Donegal), an Chábhán (Cavan), Muineachán (Monaghan)

* Figures at the time of writing — the numbers in the British armed forces were even higher at the time the Mitchell Principles were proposed.

5 Including the murder of “Real IRA” member Joseph O’Connor in 2000.

6 The same person said in a television interview years ago that those who give information to the authorities in the Six Counties know the risk and deserve death.

 

APPENDICES

i  After the War of Independence in Ireland (1919-1921), the British decided to divide the country, one part for the nationalists and the other for the unionists.

 Originally, the plan was to give the Unionists the province of Ulster but they realised that the Catholics would be the majority within the province. For that reason, the borders of the Unionist statelet were drawn up to include only six of the nine counties of Ulster (that is the reason that Republicans call the statelet “The Six Counties” and neither “Ulster” nor “Northern Ireland”, as the northernmost part of Ireland is in County Donegal, one of the three Ulster counties that remained with the Irish state after the Treaty of 1921 (to see it, enter “image counties of Ireland” or similar into an Internet search).

But even so, they were obliged to change the electoral boundaries: wherever there would be a “nationalist” majority in votes, they chopped up the district, placing part of the community within one electoral district containing many unionst votes, and the other part in a similar electoral district. This practice is called “gerrymandering”, after the practice of a US politician. For example, the city of Derry, which is nearly totally “Nationalist” or “Catholic”, for many years had a Unionist majority.

They drew up the laws so that only those who had houses could vote and those who had a house in one area and a business in another, could vote in each district (the majority of these would be Unionists). Those who rented local authority housing were entitled to vote, because were it not so, the majority of the unionist working class would have been unable to vote (and the unionist bourgeoisie needed their support).

But as the “nationalist” community was so large, it was necessary that the local authority not give them housing to rent because at the same time that would give them access to the vote. The civil rights campaign which was launched in 1968 was propelled by the protest occupation of a house which the council had allocated to the secretary of a unionist politician. The secretary was single and without children and there were many of the “nationalist” community without housing, living in their parents’ house or having no choice but to emigrate.

That was the reason why the Civil Rights movement demands one could hear in the years 1968, ’69’, ’70 etc. were: “one man, one vote” (yes, I know, it should have been “one person”, yes); “right to housing for all” and “one man, one job” (because of the discrimination in employment). There were other demands too, for example the right to protest, free speech, the right of assembly ….. to understand everything well one could look it up on Google as it is quite a broad theme. Civil rights were conceded finally years later but by that time armed struggle was in full flow.

ii   “Catholics” and “Protestants” were labels of convenience given to the different communities within the colonial British state of the Six Counties, based on the majority religions within each community. The division has little to do with religion nowadays and even historically had more to do with economics and politics. The terms “Nationalist” and “Unionist” were employed by the Republicans during the 1971-1998 war in order to avoid the representation of the conflict as a religious one, as this had been an important aspect of the propaganda of the British state. Obviously, not all in the “nationalist community” were nationalists – some were socialists, communists, anarchists or social democrats. I prefer these terms to the religious ones but I recognise their insufficiency and their tendency to give the nationalist-republicans hegemony over the ideology of the minority community.

 To understand the origins of the different communities and how they operated one needs to look into their history. After the defeat of the resistance of the clan chiefs in the Nine Years’ War (1594-1603), the land of the Irish clans in Ulster was ‘planted’ with colonists from England and Scotland. The plantations were of private origin (by private persons or companies) and also by the Scottish Parliament (through the English state) and by the English Crown. The beneficiaries were mainly the English Anglican Church, land speculators, financial corporations, officers of the English Army and English and Scottish colonists in search of a better life. All colonists were required to be English-speaking and of Protestant faith (the majority of the English colonists were Anglicans, while the majority of the Scottish were Presbyterians). Some big landowners rented out or sub-leased their lands to other colonists and other colonists worked their own land.

So that the plantation would remain loyal to England, huge areas were planted and the new owners were explicitly forbidden to take on Irish tenants and had to import workers from England and Scotland. The intention was to relocate the Irish peasant population to live near the Protestant garrisons and churches, in order the more easily to control them. The colonists were also forbidden to sell land to any Irish person and were obliged to construct defensive works against any possible rebellion or invasion. The work was required to be completed within three years. In this manner, the creation was intended of a new defensible community, composed entirely of loyal British subjects.

 During the English Civil War, the Irish in Ulster rose up in the bloody insurrection of 1641. The repression of the insurrection, its defeat and subsequent “pacification” by Cromwell, leader of the English state, in 1649 was even bloodier still. A new wave of Scottish emigration fleeing the 1696-1698 famine in their country resulted in Presbyterians becoming for the first time the majority religious group in Ulster.

 Naturally, the dispossessed retaliated against the occupants of what had been their lands and also naturally, the colonists defended themselves. The original war of resistance, the following dispossession, the resistance to colonisation and the actions of the colonists were all bloody. In the struggles between the dispossessed and the colonists, and by each group independently against their exploiters, militant societies were formed such as the Defenders (Catholics) and Hearts of Oak and Peep O’Day boys (Protestants).

 Presbyterians, although Protestant colonists of the English state, suffered discrimination. The English Protestant Anglican Church was the “established religion” of the English state and its representation in Ireland was the “Church of Ireland” (which remains its name to the day). Of course, the majority in Ireland were neither of the Presbyterian nor of the Anglican faith but Catholics (although no longer in Ulster, where the Presbyterians had an absolute majority since the 17th Century). Presbyterians, like Catholics, were obliged to pay a tithe (a tenth of their income) for the upkeep of the minority Anglican Church and were not permitted to stand for election to the Irish (colonial) Parliament. Mixed marriages with Anglicans were disapproved of and not permitted with Catholics. Both groups were forbidden for a time to enter Trinity College. The Presbyterians resented paying taxes without electoral representation (one of the complaints of the American colonists, which finally led to their Revolution), the restrictions on their commercial interests and the corruption of the English Crown in Ireland. Republican ideas began to gain dominance among them.

 In 1791 the Society of United Irishmen was formed, led primarily by Presbyterian Republicans and united principally Catholics and Presbyterians with some other faith groups (its principal ideologue, Theobald Wolfe Tone, was an Anglican). In 1798 they rose up in three main uprisings (but not simultaneously) – in the counties of Antrim, Wexford and Mayo. The English were successful in suppressing all three and killed thousands of insurgents, many others were taken prisoner and sent to penal colonies and other thousands, particularly Presbyterians, emigrated to the US or to Canada (joining previous Presbyterian emigrants).

 Repression was ferocious and the Orange Order played a particularly important role in Ulster in the coercion of Presbyterian resistance and, ironically, was successful in establishing loyalty to the English Crown as the dominant ideology in that community.

 Nowadays the majority of Presbyterians in the English colony in the north-east of Ireland has some degree or other of loyalty to the British state and desires to remain within the Union of England, Scotland and Northern Ireland. The majority of Catholics in the area, after centuries of dispossession and repression by the English, together with decades of discrimination and repression by the Orange Order and by the Northern Ireland state, appear to favour other options, including which many support reunification into an Irish state.

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