What If Gordon Banks Had Played, Part 7

From the Daily Express, 25th November 1975

Amongst the more controversial measures contained in yesterdays budget was the abolition of overseas aid contributions by the Government. The Chancellor defended his decision by pointing to the increased funding going to the third world through the use of voluntary repatriation and resettlement grants. Sir Keith said, “There is a flow of immigrants returning to their home countries with the funds to set up their own businesses and the knowledge of how to do it. This Government has reversed the third world brain drain and is giving money directly to people in the third world, instead of in the pockets of despots.”

However, the announcement met with sharp criticism from the Labour Opposition. Shadow Chancellor Tony Crosland condemned the Chancellor's rhetoric on foreign aid as “a shallow attempt to dress up this Government's racism as attempting to help the third world — an attempt that, need I say, will not wash with the British public.”

From “Edward M. Kennedy: A Biography” by Bradley Harrison (HarperCollins, 2000)

Violence in Northern Ireland had been on the increase since October 1975 when the British Government moved Republican prisoners out of the province into jails on the British mainland. Shortly afterwards The British introduced harsh new security measures and announced a programme of slum clearance which was aimed at destroyed the traditional Catholic communities where support for the nationalists was greatest. Continuing his long standing interest in the problems of Northern Ireland Senator Kennedy made a speech in November 1975 asking how long the United States could stand by while the British state persecuted Catholics in Northern Ireland.

The New Year brought new developments in Northern Ireland. The details of the “slum clearance” programme were even worse than nationalists predicted. The staunchest areas of nationalist support, the Falls Road area of Belfast, was to be the first area earmarked for demolition. The new developments planned for the area were to be upmarket, and out of the reach of the working-class Catholic residents of the Falls Road. Existing residents were to be re-homed in custom built new-towns, designed around security arrangements. While the policy was launched amidst talk of curing social-ills it was clear to Irish Catholics, and to Senator Kennedy, that it was an orchestrated attack upon the Catholic community in Northern Ireland.

By the time Senator Kennedy had returned to Boston to make his now famous speech describing the British policy as “concentration camps for Catholics” (see Appendix III) the situation in Ulster had deteriorated still further. The Falls road announcement had been greeted by severe violence on the streets of Belfast, where running battles occurred between armed loyalist and nationalist mobs in the Ardoyne area. In the immediate aftermath of the announcement 36 people were killed, including 7 British soldiers. The British Government's response was a further draconian security crackdown. A temporary state of emergency was introduced. All remission for political prisoners was cancelled, the police were given power to freeze suspects' bank accounts, a blanket curfew was issued across the province and compulsory ID cards were to be introduced. Entry from the Republic of Ireland was temporarily stopped. In the province British troops withdrew from nationalist areas in Belfast and Derry as they came under attack from residents and residents began to barricade both the Falls Road, and other Catholic areas they thought may be at risk, including the Bogside and Creggan areas.

Senator Kennedy's speech gained nationwide coverage for the spiralling violence in Northern Ireland, President Ford however made it clear that, while he was concerned over recent developments in Northern Ireland, the USA would not intervene. His opponent for the Republican nomination, former actor Ronald Reagan, standing on a platform of opposition to Ford's foreign policy, increased defence spending and a “Powellite” monetarist economic policy, remained silent on the issue.

The first night under the new security arrangements brought hitherto unparalleled violence. The “Ulster Defence Council”, a loyalist terrorist group, issued a call to arms to protestant residents of Northern Ireland, calling upon them to take up arms to defend themselves against nationalist attack. What actually happened was a loyalist mob invaded the Ardoyne, one of the nationalist areas abandoned by the security services. Over fifty houses were firebombed and four men, suspected by the mob of being members of the IRA, were lynched.

The front page of the next morning's Boston Herald called for action in Ireland and for Senator Kennedy to run for the Presidential nomination. It was joined by several high profile Democrats and other commentators, who also voiced support for Kennedy's nomination. In a press release Senator Kennedy acknowledged the calls for him to enter the race and promised to announce his decision within the next week, before returning to Hyannis Port to consider his future.

10th January 1976

Jim Molyneaux hurried from the chamber as soon as was feasible, squeezing through the MPs pushing behind the Speaker's Chair to hear the debate in the chamber. This should have been the Prime Minister's job. It was the first Saturday sitting of the Commons since Suez and it should have been Enoch in the Chamber taking the flak. Instead Molyneaux himself had been thrown to the lions.

The Commons had been in vicious mood. The longstanding consensus on Northern Ireland, the convention that the Opposition supported the Government, was broken, shattered. Labour backbencher after Labour backbencher after Labour minister had savaged him, accusing him of having blood on his hands, of having overseen British soldiers stand back while houses were firebombed and British subjects strung from the lampposts — never mind these men were terrorists. No, suspected terrorists, Molyneaux reminded himself, suspected terrorists.

There had been voices from the Government benches in support of Molyneaux. Norman Lamont, John Biggs-Davidson and Alan Clark had all given booming support, as had the DUP's Ian Paisley. Molyneaux knew what was happening however, he had sat and watched from the opposition benches as doomed ministers swung in the wind. Today it had been him on the gallows.

Ian Gow, the Prime Minister's PPS, was waiting in the corridor behind the Speaker's Chair, “Enoch needs to see you, Jim” he said solemnly. “In the Commons office.”

“Bad news I assume,” Molyneaux sighed.

“Who can say?” Gow said, but his eyes gave sympathetic agreement.

Powell was already seated in his House of Commons Office and stood as Molyneaux entered. Powell disliked his Commons Office, before he became Leader of the Party he had always refused to have an office at all and worked in the Commons library. Even as Prime Minister the Office was almost bare, there was no clutter, no personal mementos, no family photos. Molyneaux took a seat.

“The position is untenable I am afraid,” Powell began bluntly. “It is clear that mistakes were made last night, and that as the Secretary of State it is your responsibility. I am going to have to ask for your resignation.”

“I can't say it's a surprise.”

“I shall be sorry to lose you as a Minister, James,” a strange look passed Powell's face, a sudden flash of repressed emotion. “You may rest assured that I will look into the possibility of your returning to Government in the next reshuffle, and I should be glad to be able to continue to rely upon your advice on a more informal basis.”

“Naturally.” Molyneaux nodded.

“Do you have any feelings about a possible successor?” Molyneaux opened his mouth to speak but was immediately cut off by Powell. “I have decided to invite Airey to replace you, I am sure can be trusted to continue your policies. Naturally there is the issue of him not representing an Ulster seat, but I will make sure the rest of the Ministerial team are Ulstermen: Stratton Mills, Stanley McMaster and the Marquess of Hamilton in the Lords. I am moving Kilfedder in at Energy as well, shuffling the rest around, putting Nott in at Defence and farming Thatcher out to be to Leader of the Commons. Obviously I would rather you didn't mention this to the press before it is formally announced.”

“Of course not,” Molyneaux said, rising to his feet.

“Good,” the corners of Powell's mouth almost imperceptibly rose for a second. “You're free to go.”

From “Making Sense of the Troubles”, J. McCrittrick (Blackstaff, 1999)

The appointment of Neave brought little or no change to the British Government's policy towards Northern Ireland. Neave, a World War II veteran who had famously escaped from Colditz was considered a hard man by the British press and his appointment was seen as a statement of Powell's continued determination to take a harsh line on Ulster. While his association with the Ardoyne attacks forced Powell to temporarily distance himself from Molyneaux in public, he remained a strong influence on the Government's Northern Ireland policy during his period out of office.

Most observers expected Ulster to collapse into anarchy in the wake of the Ardoyne attacks, the reality however was somewhat different. In the days immediately following the attack there were revenge attacks on the protestant community in the Highfield and Duncairn areas, and a further “tit-for-tat” attack on Catholic residents of New Lodge. However, where most had predicted escalation the conflict rapidly came to a stand off. Catholic residents of West Belfast, in the areas abandoned by the security forces and effectively controlled by the IRA, began to add makeshift fortifications, proclaiming their willingness to fight the British forces when they arrived. Catholic residents in the rest of Belfast were gradually pushed out of their homes either by intimidation, overt violence by loyalist paramilitaries or, as in the case of the Ardoyne, by arson attacks on Catholic housing estates. While the security forces intervened to prevent outright murder, many in the nationalist community claimed they was acting in concert with loyalist paramilitaries and evidence from the Mackay Commission hearings suggests they were often more than willing to turn a blind eye to the intimidation of Catholic residents.

The Ulster Defence Council reacted to the fortification of the Falls Road by setting up its own fortifications along the Shankill Road, claiming it was protecting residents from terrorist raids. The British army meanwhile stood back, allowing if not actively encouraging the permanent division of Belfast. Similar divisions were occurring in other cities in Northern Ireland, as the boundaries between the two communities became even more clear cut, and both communities began to arm themselves and prepare for what was seen as an inevitable conflict.

In rural Ulster the situation was somewhat different. The new security arrangements prevented any effective media coverage of events in the country and much of the six counties was ruled under strict martial law. Curfews were strictly imposed, the border with the Republic was closed to incomers (though Catholic “refugees” from Belfast were free to cross into the Republic) and the army operated a shoot-to-kill policy on all terrorist suspects. The media blackout in mainland Britain prevented any reporting of the army's activities in Northern Ireland, but the IRA did their upmost to publicise alleged army persecution and “death squads” in the US, and the championing of their cause by Senator Edward Kennedy in his campaign for the Democratic Presidential nomination brought them coverage in the US media.

25th January 1976

Secretary of State Henry Kissinger was tired, in ten days he had been to Bonn, Moscow, Madrid and now London. “It is good to see you again, Angus,” he droned in his thick German accent as he pumped the British Foreign Secretary's hand. “You vill forgive me if I sit down?”

“No, no, take a seat,” Angus Maude said, settling himself at the conference table. He had been busy himself, dealing with a furious Garrett FitzGerald over the closing of the Irish border. Before them on the table was a non-committal statement to be released after the meeting. It had already been agreed by the respective civil servants and contained nothing of interest.

“I spoke with Dr Fitzgerald during my journey,” Kissinger began. “He is concerned over the closing of the border. As you know, the President takes an interest in Northern Ireland.”

“And in the Presidential elections...” Maude murmured.

“Yes,” Kissinger broke into a grin. “Yes. The American people have an interest in Northern Ireland, and ve are keen to help you solve these, er... local difficulties, yes?”

“The border is difficult,” Maude said, leaning back in his chair. “With an open border the IRA play cat and mouse over it, attacking security targets and then fleeing back over the border. Hot pursuit is one thing, but we cannot effectively organise security investigations across the border and the Irish Government, while Taoiseach Cosgrave's heart is the right place, haven't been entirely effective in combating the problem.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. I haf spoken with Dr Fitzgerald and he assures me the Irish Government are villing to compromise on hot pursuit.”

“Hot pursuit is no longer the issue — to have an open border we would need to actively pursue police inquiries in the Republic, and if necessary deploy British troops.”

Kissinger nodded gently. “I see, I see. The situation in Ireland is a very big issue at home at the moment.”

“That is something that I need to discus with you. Press coverage in the US is doing our international image no good, and the IRA are raising huge amounts of money in the USA. Money they are using to blow up British soldiers.”

“You understand there is nothing ve can do about the press, yes?”

“You can do something to help us, we need someone to counter the press reports in the US. If you read some of the stuff in the Boston Herald it looks as if the IRA are bloody heroes. These are bombers and murders for Christ's sake, not to mention communists.” Kissinger's eyebrows rose somewhere behind his thick horn-rimmed spectacles. “If President Ford was able to talk on the subject, highlight that these are murderers, not some sort of romantic, Celtic freedom-fighters.”

“The Irish lobby is very important in the US, you know? With the elections...”

“And, speaking frankly, I am sure it would do the President no harm in the election if Senator Kennedy were to be associated with a bunch of gun-toting Marxist thugs.”

Kissinger nodded, “Obviously ve regard the United Kingdom as valuable allies, and ve are prepared to do vot ve can to help. The President though has some concerns. There has been speculation that Prime Minister Powell is not committed to retaining Britain's nuclear deterrent, and that he is less than enthusiastic about Britain's role in NATO. I am sure President Ford vould appreciate some reassuring gestures on behalf of Prime Minister Powell, yes?”

25th January 1976

“For Christ's sake, Enoch!” Angus Maude said, flinging his papers down on the table “You are the Prime Minister. You can't afford to play the isolationist martyr with the country. It's one thing parading around on the backbenches but we are the Government now, we need to actually work with these people.”

The Prime Minister stared across the cabinet table at his Foreign Secretary, the rest of the cabinet waited in silence. “It is all the more reason to stick to one's principles. If I were to betray my principles as an MP I would be betraying only myself, as Prime Minister I would be betraying the country. The United Kingdom is a sovereign nation and the United States have no earthly business telling us how to defend ourselves.”

“It is only a speech, dear boy,” said Willie Whitelaw.

“Just a speech,” Maude continued. “Just stand up say how important we think NATO is and how we are not going to disarm and we'll have the Americans on side.”

“Neither of which I am prepared to do. NATO is of benefit only to the USA. Where were our so called allies at Suez?” the Prime Minister asked. At one end of the Table Peter Thorneycroft nodded sagely. “As to the nuclear deterrent, it is a pointless waste of money to have such weaponry when it will never be used.”

“It is a deterrent, Prime Minister,” John Nott, the Secretary of State for Defence piped up.

“I am well aware of its stated purpose,” the Prime Minister said, looking round sharply at Nott. “It is incorrect. The Soviet Union is not run by madmen. These weapons will never be used by us, the Americans or the Soviets and we may as well save the money.”

“Enoch, Enoch, we are drifting from the issue in hand,” Airey Neave said from the other end of the table. “You know the party would never accept disarmament anyway and you are not going to become some sort of Conservative Ramsey McDonald over a few bombs. The fact is we need to cut of the supply of funds to the IRA, and the only way to do it is by working with the USA.”

“We have frozen their bank accounts haven't we? The borders are closed.”

“Yes, yes, but it is of no use if the money never passes through Northern Ireland. The terrorists raise the money in the USA and it is used to buy arms there which are then shipped to the Republic or directly into Northern Ireland.”

“Then we need to stop them.”

“Then we need room for manoeuvre,” pleaded Angus Maude. “We need you to give that speech, it doesn't matter if you give two figs about NATO or not, as long as the Americans buy it. Then we need to re-open the border with Ireland, with the Americans on our side we have a good chance of Cosgrave allowing us limited scope for operations across the border.”

James Kilfedder spoke up. “I will warn you now, lots of our people in Ulster would not be happy about any sort of cross-border police authority.”

“There is no question of it Jim,” Airey Neave countered, almost before the words had left Kilfedder's mouth.

“I have no choice,” the Prime Minister sighed.“I did not agree to serve Her Majesty as Prime Minister in order to kow-tow to foreign powers.” Around the table eyes closed and fists clenched in frustration.

“Look, Prime Minister, I'll do the damn speech,” John Nott said.

“And I would be forced to sack you. You have only been in the cabinet for a few weeks Mr Nott, I can assure you that you would not be missed.”

“I would go with him,” Angus Maude said. “You've already lost Jim Prior and Jim Molyneaux. You can only afford to upset so many people.”

“Prime Minister,” started Peter Thorneycroft. “Enoch, this isn't worth it. This isn't the time or the issue to make your stand. If you self implode in a fit of principle do you think whoever would replace you would be any more principled?” The Home Secretary looked back and forth around the table theatrically. “Let it go.”

“Then you shall have your speech,” the Prime Minister said quietly, before standing and leaving the table. The cabinet watched him go in silence.

“You don't suppose he's resigning do you?” Patrick Jenkin asked eventually.

“Sadly not,” Angus Maude said, slumping in his seat. “Sadly not.”

From “Things Fall Apart” by Ian Gilmour (Phoenix, 1986)

The right-wing excesses of the first 18 months of the Powell Government were worse than any of us had imagined. The cabinet was even further to the right than the already appalling shadow cabinet, with the resignation of Jim Prior only Willie Whitelaw represented the moderate wing of the party and his inbuilt loyalty, although admirable, prevented him challenging the more extremist tendencies within the cabinet. Each subsequent budget slashed welfare spending, an evil that was compounded by the economic recession and the Government's dogmatic refusal to offer any aid to industry. The threatened review of immigration legislation led to the abandonment of race relations legislation and the active promotion of resettlement grants. The battle with the unions was harsh, uncaring and unreasonable and the Government survived solely through the tragic murder of one of it's Ministers.

We National Conservatives watched with concern from the opposition benches. There was occasional talk of new defections, but in hindsight our decision not to organise as a separate political party prevented us from achieving the necessary momentum to start gathering extra defections. This decision was mainly due to Ted Heath, who acted as an unofficial leader of our grouping and insisted upon seeing us as remaining part of the Conservative Party, albeit one in temporary exile. The most high-profile potential defector was Jim Prior, who spoke with us several times about crossing the floor, but each time decided to remain within the party in case Powell should be forced from the leadership.

From “An Unhappy Juncture: The Powell Government” by Anthony Selsdon (Harpercollins, 1988)

Powell's position as leader looked increasingly uncertain as Northern Ireland tottered on the brink of civil war, Powell had never had a broad base of ideological support within the party and the growing Labour lead in the polls lead to increasing unrest on the backbenches. There were widespread rumours of a split within the cabinet itself as ministers tired of being constrained by Powell's intransigence. There were still however no rules allowing Conservative MPs to instigate a leadership challenge, and most of the “big hitters” on the left of the Party had already jumped ship to join the National Conservatives, a rudderless grouping that offered little appeal to potential defectors.