Facing truth: a televised reconciliation in Northern Ireland

Christian Century, June 27, 2006 by Ronald A. Wells

DESMOND TUTU makes headlines, and often changes hearts and minds. In the fall of 2005, the I headlines were made in Belfast, where Tutu, former Anglican archbishop of Cape Town, South Africa, was filming Facing the Truth, three programs for the Northern Irish BBC that aired in Britain on three consecutive days in March of this year.

The hearts and minds belong to those who suffered and to those who caused suffering during "the Troubles," the period of violent conflict in Northern Ireland beginning with the civil rights marches in the late 1960s and continuing to the political resolution enshrined in the 1998 Good Friday Agreement. More than 3,000 people were killed during the Troubles, most of them civilians. For the BBC programs the victims or families of the victims were invited to confront either the perpetrator or someone associated with the organization that had sanctioned, planned and accomplished the killing or injury.

The enterprise was a daring idea both for Tutu and the BBC. No British government of either political party has ever wanted a full-blown Truth and Reconciliation Commission like the South African model. That would mean opening up records that no government would allow to be opened. Similarly, Sinn Fein and the Irish Republican Army would never agree to a full and unfettered examination of their activities.

As a scholar familiar with the Troubles and the peace process, I believe that a TRC may not be needed in Northern Ireland. The institutions of civil society are potentially strong enough to foster some level of personal, social and cultural healing. Parachurch residential communities like Corrymeela in Ballycastle and the Christian Renewal Centre in Rostrevor can provide the safe space for dialogue and forgiveness that only a TRC could provide for a relatively institution-poor society. I've been a participant-observer in these communities and have witnessed the courage and grace associated with people who come to confront the past, work through it and forgive. My Catholic friends call these people "icons of grace." Yet the communities cannot reach everyone.

When Tutu agreed to try putting a TRC-type encounter on television, the BBC began recruiting people and scrupulously selecting them. The three programs were filmed at Ballywalter House, a remote country house in rural Northern Ireland, over a six-day period. Two women assisted the bishop: Donna Hicks, a Harvard specialist in conflict resolution, and Leslie Belinda, a British woman whose husband was murdered during the atrocities in Rwanda. Although Tutu was understood to be the chair of the meetings, both Hicks and Belinda were important players, and at times their interventions were crucial.

As I watched the programs, at first I was underwhelmed. While the stories were touching examples of courage and grace, they did not have the dramatic effect that I'd expected. But then, as I watched, I began to recall all the stories of pain and suffering I had heard in 30 years of writing about the Troubles. As Tutu encouraged people to tell their stories and ask their questions in Facing the Truth, a phrase or gesture would trigger in me a memory of another story of deep human loss in Ireland, and then another. Eventually I found myself weeping. As Tutu said at one such moment, "This is not something we could have contrived."

ONE ENCOUNTER involved Michael Stone, a Loyalist killer who was seen on the world's TV screens in 1988. He had attacked an IRA funeral in West Belfast's Milltown cemetery, the sacred burial ground of the Republican movement. Stone threw grenades and fired a pistol into the funeral party, killing three people. He was arrested, charged with those and many other crimes, convicted on multiple charges and sentenced to more that 600 years in prison. Then, to the dismay and anger of many in the Republican community, he was released in the amnesty after the Good Friday Agreement in 1998.

One of Stone's convictions was for the 1987 murder of Dermot Hackett, who Stone alleged was an IRA operative. In the dramatic high point of the programs, the Hackett family confronted Stone. The family entered first, welcomed by the smiles of Tutu, Hicks and Belinda. Viewers then felt the tension rise markedly as Stone walked in, limping. The Hackett women began to sob as Stone sat down. Before Tutu could welcome them and thank them for their courage in coming, one of the women ran out of the room in tears, leaving Hackett's widow, Sylvia, and his brother Roddy to confront Stone.

The Hacketts' opening comments revealed their continued and largely unresolved grief about the murder, which had taken place two decades before. They are also convinced that Hackett had not been involved with any paramilitary organization. They had come to the broadcast to clear Hackett's name, to ask the killer why he had done it and what he felt about taking an innocent man's life and leaving his family devastated.

Stone looked menacing, but his sad eyes reflected all that he'd seen and lived in 50 years, 34 of them misspent in prison or when he was a terrorist at large. He told calmly of his upbringing in the Protestant heartland on the mean streets of working-class Belfast, and of joining the Ulster Defence Regiment (UDR) at 16. He was soon imprisoned on a weapons charge and spent a half year in the infamous Long Kesh prison; he calls it "the university of terrorism," because he was thoroughly politicized there and came out determined to become proficient in all the dark arts of terror.