IN JULY this year, Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Brandon Lewis, addressing MPs in the Commons, confirmed the British government’s intention to press ahead with the introduction of a statute of limitations to end all prosecutions related to the Troubles in Northern Ireland before 1998.

The urgency to stop all prosecutions reached its peak when two former British soldiers were due to stand trial for shootings that occurred in Derry on Bloody Sunday in 1972.  

One was charged with one count of murder and five of attempted murder and another faced prosecution for the murder of Daniel Hegarty, aged 15, and the wounding of Christopher Hegarty.

The decision to prosecute had been greeted with outrage and anger by veterans and politicians: how could two veterans, now in old age, who had served their country, be subjected to the stress of criminal proceedings, they asked.

By contrast, there was no outrage or anger from British politicians that no-one would be held accountable for the death of a child.

In his speech, Lewis said the statute of limitations will apply equally to all Troubles-related incidents. He said: “There is a point at which we in the House [of Commons] need to be honest with people about the very painful difficulty of where we are today.”

Ironic, because one of the main reasons that families have been fighting for justice for decades is due to successive British governments’ lack of honesty and willingness to co-operate with any requests for information.

Lewis went on to say: “We’ve come to the view this is the best and only way to facilitate an effective information retrieval process and the best way to help Northern Ireland move further along the road to reconciliation,” before adding: “The British government would never accept any moral equivalence between those that upheld the law in Northern Ireland — those that served their country — and those that sought to destroy it.”

Lewis’s choice of words implies that for the purpose of the statute of limitations that the British government is treating all Troubles-related killings equally — however, in his view, unlike paramilitary groups, crown forces acted morally.

Yet I would have thought there is little difference between a member of the paramilitary who shoots an innocent civilian and a member of the security forces who does the same but fails to take responsibility.

I say that because when paramilitaries targeted civilians, the motive behind the attack was normally linked to sectarianism. However, when it comes to the shooting of innocent civilians, including children by the security forces, justification becomes less clear.

In some cases where the shooting may have been preventable, instead of recognising and admitting what went wrong, explaining to the families, and taking appropriate action against the soldier, the military did exactly the opposite and pointed the finger of blame at the victim.

This passing the blame was done by claiming a weapon carried by the victim was stolen by one of the bystanders. So not only did the relatives have to cope with their loss, they also had to live with the records showing the shooting was justified because he or she was an armed member of the IRA.

In other cases the British army claimed a civilian was shot accidentally when soldiers returned fire after first being shot at. A case in point is the killing of 12-year-old Majella O’Hare, who died after being shot in the back by a British soldier with a general purpose machine gun in 1976 as she was passing through a checkpoint in County Armagh. The soldier claimed he responded to sniper fire.

In 2010, after a reinvestigation by the Police Service of Northern Ireland’s historical enquiries team, it was found that there was no evidence of an IRA gunman being present at that time.

Again, like so many other cases before and after, no-one was held to account for the death of an innocent civilian.

Lewis suggests his new arrangement is the best way to facilitate an effective information-retrieval process. However, the reason that some of the information has been difficult to retrieve is because successive governments have locked the files away at the National Archives at Kew and continued to deny the families access.

For instance, the files of 15-year-old Paul Whitters, who died in 1981, 10 days after being struck on the head with a plastic bullet fired by a member of the Royal Ulster Constabulary. In 2007, the Ombudsman report on his death criticised the police investigation and concluded that the firing of a baton round was “wrong and unjustifiable,” and no attempt had been made to arrest the boy.

Yet despite this, the family have to wait until 2059 before they will be allowed access to the files.

It would be completely wrong to suggest that every British soldier who served in the North of Ireland did so intending to take an innocent life. What we can’t, or shouldn’t, ignore is that it did happen. Not only did it happen, but evidence suggests in some cases it happened with the blessing of agencies of the British government.

In 2012, a former member of the Military Reaction Force (MRF) gave an interview to the Mail on Sunday and spoke of his time on operations in Belfast in 1972.

The MRF was a clandestine unit that operated outside of the “rules of engagement.” Simon Cursey told how members dressed in civilian clothes, armed with non-military issue weapons, and in unmarked cars drove around republican areas.

Cursey confirmed that such a death squad did exist and stated: “The rules of engagement in Northern Ireland were very clear: you were allowed to open fire at a person shooting at you or someone you are with. We had our own slight variations of these rules. We opened fire at any small group in hard areas, neighbourhoods that even looked suspicious.”

What was it again Lewis said about the British government? They would never accept any moral equivalence between those that “upheld the law in Northern Ireland” — those that “served their country” and those that “sought to destroy it?”

Which category would Lewis would put the MRF, in I wonder?

Apart from the fact that the security forces were suppose to be the “good guys,” I can see no difference between a paramilitary, Loyalist or Republican, driving past and firing at civilians and a car with British soldiers dressed in civilian clothes doing the same thing. Can you?
 
No doubt some would say that if unmarked cars containing soldiers could take out a Republican gunman  — it was Republican they targeted not Loyalists — before they had an opportunity to take a life, is that not a good thing? Well if that statement were true, it would be a good base to start the discussion: but it’s not.

Records recovered by author and founder of Paper Trail Ciaran MacAirt, together with researcher James Kinchin-White, suggests that Cursey's statement was true and that the MRF, together with another unit of plain-clothes British soldiers, may have been responsible for at least two civilian deaths and the injury of others, including a 16-year-old boy.

The fact is, the purpose of this legislation is not just about protecting veterans from prosecution. That is a by-product.

Like the NHS, the issue has been weaponised for political gain: If the Tories allow a former soldier to be convicted, though Labour might deny it, the party will claim this government has let veterans down. After all, the voting intentions of serving military personnel, veterans and their families make up a fair percentage of the vote for the mainstream parties in England, Scotland and Wales come election day.

However, just as important as that, if enshrined in law, a statute of limitations will hide the dirty secrets of successive British governments, possibly forever. And for the Establishment as a whole, that is priceless.