An amnesty over Troubles-era prosecutions will only rekindle anger and bitter division

Is the proposal wise, asks Kim Sengupta, at a time when Northern Ireland is once again facing uncertainty?

Family members of the Ballymurphy victims after listening to the findings of the inquest report (Reuters)

When Michael Stone walked out from behind the bleak, grey walls of Maze on a July morning twenty-one years ago, it signalled the closure of a prison with a grim history tied to the Troubles, and also a key step towards ending the long years of bitter strife.

In March 1988, Stone, a loyalist paramilitary, had carried out an attack at Milltown Cemetery in west Belfast. I and many other journalists were there at the time, covering the funeral of three IRA members shot dead by the SAS in Gibraltar, when he opened fire and threw grenades, killing three people and injuring 60 others.

Stone, who was facing at least 30 years in prison, was the first of a batch of around 90 paramilitaries, loyalist and republican, who were freed under the Good Friday Agreement – many after serving just a fraction of their sentences, and some of them responsible for appalling atrocities.

They included Sean Kelly, sentenced to nine life terms for the IRA bombing of the Shankill Road, killing nine people; and Torrens Knight, guilty of 12 killings, including eight at the Rising Sun pub in Greysteel, Co Derry, in revenge for the Shankill bomb.

There was James McArdle, who had served just two years of a 25-year sentence for his part in the London Docklands bombing in 1996 which killed two people. Those released also included Michael Caraher, one of the Provisional IRA’s most lethal snipers, who killed Lance Bombardier Restorick, the last British soldier to die in Northern Ireland. Also walking out was Norman Coopey, a member of the Loyalist Volunteer Force (LVF) involved in the torture and murder of 16-year-old Catholic James Morgan.

The next time we saw Stone was in May 1998 in Ulster Hall in Belfast at a rally organised by the Ulster Democratic Party (UDP). He was welcomed by Gary McMichael, the young leader of the party, whose father had been assassinated by the IRA. The gathering was for peace, in support of a referendum which would result in the Good Friday Agreement. Stone had been given four days’ leave of absence from the Maze to take part. His was a powerful presence; a banner from the balcony declared: “Michael Stone says Yes”.

Stone is now back in prison, but the Good Friday Agreement would not have been possible had it not been for the men behind the wire, like Gerry Adams and fellow Sinn Fein member Gerry Kelly – or on the loyalist side, David Irvine and Billy Hutchinson of the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), who became leading lights in the Progressive Unionist Party (PUP).

There is now a threat of conflict returning in the aftermath of Brexit, with disagreement over the Northern Ireland protocol and the sea border between Britain and Ireland. There have been nights of rioting, and there is deep apprehension that the coming “marching season” could once again become a venue for disturbances after years of relative calm.

Against this tense backdrop came the trial of two paratroopers who were accused of murdering Joe McCann, a 24-year-old member of the Official IRA, in 1972 – a prosecution which has been hugely controversial both legally and politically.

The trial collapsed in days, with Soldier A and Soldier C, both now in their seventies, being spared a long court case with the possibility of convictions at its end. But the decision by Mr Justice O’Hara at Belfast Criminal Court has left McCann’s family angry, embittered, and pledging to continue to seek justice.

It was fairly obvious that the case was going to end when the judge ruled that statements the two soldiers had made after the shooting, and then when interviewed by the police’s legacy unit, the Historical Enquiries Team (HET) in 2010, were inadmissible.

McCann’s family said they would appeal to the attorney general to open an inquest into the death, which would have the power to bring a verdict of unlawful killing. The deputy director of prosecutions, Michael Agnew, insisted that he remained “satisfied” that it was right to bring the case before the courts. In reality, there is little chance that prosecutions will proceed against four more members of the armed forces still facing “legacy” charges.

The possibility of further trials would not have existed at all under government plans to offer amnesty to veterans over crimes committed during the Troubles. It was claimed that the ban on prosecutions would also be extended to paramilitary members, and that the move, along with a “truth and reconciliation” programme, would be announced in the Queen’s Speech.

The plan was condemned by many in both communities in Northern Ireland, and by political parties from the republican and loyalist sides. The government appeared to signal a partial retreat. The speech outlined a programme to deal with the legacy of the Troubles, with the focus on collating information rather than prosecutions. But there was a pledge to consult with the Irish government, political parties in Northern Ireland, and victims’ groups, before any legislation is introduced.

On the same day in Northern Ireland, an inquest into the deaths of ten people killed in Ballymurphy in west Belfast during an army operation in August 1971 found that the victims were all “entirely innocent” civilians. Nine of the 10, including a priest and a mother of eight children, had been shot dead by soldiers, but the inquest could not establish who had killed the 10th victim.

John Teggart, whose father Daniel had 13 bullet wounds in his body, said that the verdict was a “great day for truth and justice”. The bereaved families, he said, will challenge any amnesty for soldiers in court.

“I want to speak directly to the people of Britain at this moment. Can you imagine what would happen if British soldiers killed ten unarmed civilians on the streets of London, Liverpool or Birmingham? Would you expect an investigation? Would you expect justice? Or would you be happy for them to get an amnesty?” he asked.

Giving her verdict, the coroner, Mrs Justice Keegan, noted that in just two days – 9 and 10 August – around the time of the Ballymurphy killings, in Belfast alone there were 59 shooting incidents, 12 explosions, 17 deaths, 25 injuries, 13 reports of rioting, and 18 arson attacks, as well as other reports of civil disorder. It was, she pointed out, a “highly charged and difficult environment”.

That does not, of course, justify the killing of 10 people, but it does help to put it in context. There are also some other figures worth considering. The court heard almost 100 days of evidence from more than 150 witnesses. These included more than 60 soldiers, more than 30 civilians, and numerous experts in ballistics, pathology and engineering.

Boris Johnson “apologised unreservedly” on behalf of the UK government for the events that took place in Ballymurphy, following a call with the first minister of Northern Ireland, Arlene Foster, on Tuesday.

There is acknowledgement from all sides, including the government, political parties in Northern Ireland and the Republic, and former senior military officers like Lord Dannatt, the former head of the army, that the bereaved families had to wait too long for the inquest and verdict.

But, however late, a huge amount of effort went into establishing what took place more than 50 years ago, and that is what the families of the victims deserved.

The passage of time and lack of evidence may well mean that those responsible for deaths on both sides of the conflict will not be prosecuted. We also know that many who had been prosecuted and jailed were freed for expediency, to enable the peace process to work and the Good Friday Agreement to take place.

But one cannot help thinking that a blanket amnesty of the type which was proposed would rekindle the anger and bitter divisions of the Troubles at a time when Northern Ireland is once again facing a time of tension and uncertainty.