From the Manchester Martyrs to the Birmingham 6…..

Plaque on Hyde Rd in Manchester which marks the spot where the Fenians were freed in 1867.

Book Review:The Manchester Martyrs by Joseph O’Neill (Mercier Press, 2012)
ISBN 978-1-85635-951-1

The Martyrs were three members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (also known as the Fenians), who were wrongfully executed for the death of a policeman during the successful rescue attempt of two of their comrades in Manchester in September 1867. They were buried in quick lime, and in the 1990s their remains were secretly cremated.

In his introduction the author, Joseph O’Neill, explains why the Manchester Martyrs are significant to him. “Throughout the 1950’s when I was growing up in Manchester, the minute’s silence at the spot where the Martyrs died was part of our annual commemoration…it did more than forge a bond between the Irish community and the men who, there in our adopted city, died for Irish freedom.”

O’Neill has chosen to tell the story of the Martyrs as “a history book written for the general reader”. This often involves a melodramatic account akin to a novel but, without knowing where he got the information from, it is hard to reconcile the drama with the real events.

James Stephens played a major role in the creation of the Fenian movement. As O’Neill says; “Unlike any previous Irish nationalist organisation, the one Stephens sought to create would combine the power of the Irish diaspora…with that of the most virulent elements at home (Ireland)”. Much of the support for the Fenians came from America, building on the bitterness felt by the Irish who had been forced to leave Ireland after the famine in 1846, whilst the movement was full of men who had gained military experience in the American Civil War.

The story of the Martyrs is the story of the Irish experience in Britain. And, although there are differences in the way in which the three men were unjustly tried and hanged for a crime they did not commit, there are also parallels with contemporary events, and in particular the case of the Birmingham six. As the escaped Fenians were feted in America, O’Neill explains the response of the Chief Constable of Manchester: “The Fenian leaders had escaped but those who had rescued them would not . It was to these men that the police now turned their attention.” And the same thing happened with the Birmingham Six. The police and the government knew they were not guilty of bombing pubs in Birmingham, but framed them anyway. Someone had to be seen to paying, and paying hard.

O’Neill has chosen to locate the Martyrs within a a purely Catholic Irish tradition, failing to highlight the progressive nature of the Fenians, who were very much part of a political tradition harking back to Thomas Paine . In their manifesto, (which O’Neil includes in the index) it is clear that they were for universal suffrage, a free mind and, most importantly, the separation of church and state.

Like ONeill’s father, my father also took part in the Manchester Martyrs commemoration, but unlike him, he saw this as part of a republican socialist tradition, and one which he passed onto his children. O’Neill is scathing in his attack on second and third generation Irish; “Their children, with that chameleon plasticity that marks the irish wherever they settle, assimilated,the next generation even more.” He fails to mention the numerous Irish such as myself who have been involved in Irish politics in Britain, in groups such as the Irish in Britain representation Group , the Labour Committee on Ireland and Troops Out.

Whilst O’Neill is happy to expand on the reasons why the Irish supported the Fenians in the 1860s, he cannot extend the same analysis to the Irish of his own generation. He does not want to talk about the way in which the British government used legislation such as the Prevention of Terrorism Act to stop a debate in the Irish community in Britain about human rights abuses in Northern Ireland. He does not want to talk about the widespread and unacceptable anti-Irish racism faced by children such as me when growing up in 1970s Britain.

The Birmingham 6 on their day of release in 1991

O’Neill says that the story of the Manchester Martyrs “speaks of the transformative power of suffering.” He doesn’t explain what this means. I would argue that the history of the Irish community in Manchester (like many other communities) does show that our community has suffered, but that our life has improved through people getting together and challenging inequality and injustice. I suspect O’Neill is calling for some kind of Catholic revival with the poor Martyrs as “saints”. If they were lying in a grave, I am sure that they would be turning in it, when faced with such a usurpation of their lives and politics.

J.O’Neill will be speaking about his book at the WCML on 27 June – details here

Bill Brand; It is the People who Create………

Bill Brand (played by Jack Shepherd) speaking at a workers occupation

Bill Brand, a TV series broadcast on ITV in the summer of 1976, was written by one of Britain’s (and Manchester’s) greatest playwrights, Trevor Griffiths. The drama is the story of how Bill Brand (played excellently by Jack Shepherd), who is from a working-class background and a college lecturer, after a flirtation with revolutionary politics, becomes a Labour MP. It mirrors Trevor’s life and, to an extent, mine. Trevor grew up East Manchester and, unlike his brother who left school at 15 to work in a factory, he was one of the lucky working-class children who benefited from the Butler Act of 1944 and gained access to the grammar school system. In 1952 he went to Manchester University on a state scholarship to study English.

After university Trevor became a teacher, first in a school and then in a local college. By the late 50s he was politically involved in CND and the New Left. He joined a discussion group through the Left Club which included historians such as Edward Thompson and John Saville. By 1962 he was a member of the Labour Party and wrote for their local paper, Labour’s Northern Voice. But his disillusionment with the Labour Government of Harold Wilson led to him leaving the party in 1965.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s television producers of programmes such as Armchair Theatre and the Wednesday Play brought in new writers to reflect on the radical social changes going on in Britain, and particularly the experiences of the working-classes. By 1961 Trevor had written three scripts for the BBC and was now working for them fulltime in Leeds as a Further Education Officer. He said that he wanted to write plays because of “the tremendous stimulation I got from seeing rough reflections of lived experience on television.”

Many of his plays drew on his own lived experience. Trevor’s father was a chemical process worker and a Welsh Nonconformist background, whilst his mother was an Irish Catholic. When he was two years old his father lost his job and they had to leave the family home and live with relatives. Trevor was brought up by his Irish grandmother in nearby Bradford, who taught him to read before he went to school.

In the 70s our family were Irish Catholics, the emphasis being on the Irish, and we went through the Catholic selective system. That meant the 11 plus, and three different schools for myself and my three siblings; Secondary Modern, Technical High (which I attended} and Grammar. Highly divisive and highly unfair. Children who went to Secondary Modern schools usually left at 15 years, and were excluded from sitting O’Levels and were only allowed to do CSEs. This obviously affected their entry into higer level jobs, and many were destined for manual work. Not just a poverty of attainment, but the experience of not passing the 11 plus undermined people’s confidence throughout their life in many different ways.

Throughout the 11 episodes of the series we see how Bill and his brother’s life chances have shaped their futures. His brother works as a shirt cutter, but as the textile industry goes into decline he becomes unemployed. What is different about Bill Brand compared to present-day drama is that it shows the workers, including his brother, through their union, opposing the closure of their factory and taking industrial action. This collective action is a theme throughout the series. It is also great to see positive images of working class men and their families, which is something really lacking in the media today.

The 1970s in Britain were dominated by the death throes of the Labour Government, and its intertwined and incestuous relationship with the rest of the labour movement, particularly the trade unions. We see Bill Brand wrestling with this as a Labour MP: not just in his relationship with the Parliamentary Labour Party, but in his struggle to represent his constituents: whether they are workers on strike, women seeking abortions or the Irish community subject to state harassment.

In 1974 the war in Norhern Ireland came to Britain as the IRA set off bombs as part of their strategy to get the British forces out of Ireland. Many Irish people took the backlash, in terms of anti-Irish racism on the streets and in workplaces, as well as restrictions on their civil rights through so called anti-terror legislation.

In a powerful speech in Parliament, Bill explains how this legislation is affecting his Irish constituents and wrongly being used to target the irish community. It then shows how Bill’s family is targeted by fascists and when their house is attacked it is Bill’s comrades in the union who come down to defend his family. In the 70s this was not unusual for anyone who spoke out in support of a debate on the war in Ireland and it happened to many Irish people, who were activists. Bill Brand is one of the few dramas that have put the argument for a debate on the role of Britain in Ireland and shown the consequences for the supporters of the rights of Irish people.

But it is an important drama on many other levels. Trevor Griffiths shows working class culture in the home, the factory and the Labour Party. We are reminded of how rich left politics were in the 70s: a time of struggles and campaigns around unemployment, Ireland, sexual politics, Chile and anti-fascism. Trevor says about the series; “What I was trying to say throughout the series was that the traditions of the labour movement were inadequate to take the struggle further, and that we had to discover new traditions or revive even older ones. And that we had to seek connective tissue between electoral party politics, which still has a mystifying mass appeal, and extra-parliamentary socialist activity.”

In 2012 those of us who grew up in the 70s and were part of that rich political culture know how far the labour movement has diverted from that past. The Labour Party is no longer seen as the party for the working-classes and apathy dominates in any election whether at a local or national level. Trade unions have been slow to challenge the Government and local Labour councils over the cuts. In the 70s it was easy to see where and how people could challenge unfairness and injustice, these days it is not so simple and for many people there are no easy answers in how or where to begin that fightback.

Bill Brand the complete series is available fron Network DVD

Trevor Griffiths work in the 1970s and 1980s is discussed by Mike Poole and John Wyver in their book Powerplays

Maeve Kelly: Irishwoman, Feminist,Writer, Activist

Cover of Florrie's Girls

As a feminist and campaigner in the Irish community in Britain in the 1980s and 90s, it was great discovering the novels of Maeve Kelly. There were (and maybe still are) many depressing stereotypes about the lives of Irish women and these seem to be used in lots of the media (including the Guardian) to portray them  as victims of a particularly nasty Ireland. This is not to dismiss the fact that Ireland (on both sides of the border) treated women in a particular discriminatory way. Of course women were denied abortion, divorce and  sexual equality. But this history was not unconnected with the unfinished political process, and the continuing prescence of British troops in part of the island.

The history of Ireland is also the history of women who have sought to campaign on all issues from the (big)political situation to the specifics of abortion, divorce etc. Maeve Kelly’s books, I think, are an important part of the discourse about women’s activism. She was born in post Independence Ireland in 1930, writes poetry and fiction, and has been active within the women’s movement.

Her first publication was A Life of Her Own (1976) which is a collection of stories, stories of women who lead ordinary lives, but try to do so with integrity. These are women who are part of the rural economy; as farmers and fisherwomen, as well as mothers and wives. Amongst all the anger and discord, she also writes beautifully about the countryside. “Turf smoke was rising from the chimney straight up to the blue sky. The river was like a looking-glass, cut easily by the oars. The island was an emerald rising from its blue setting.”

In Necessary Treasons (1985), Maeve gives us a glimpse into the life of a young woman who is active in the women’s movement in Limerick in the 1980s. Little has been written about why women chose to join and work in campaigns and in this novel the main character, Eve, is a young middle-class woman who is facing questions that women ask themselves when we are making choices about how we should live our lives. She works in the women’s advice centre, and is confronted with the reality of other, poorer, women’s lives. “Every other Wednesday they sat in a small room, hardly bigger than a cubicle, and heard the stories of the women who came to them for help. At times the complaints seemed monotonously repetitive and Eve wondered why the women seemed unable to help themselves. Until, that is, she learned how unskilled they were, unable to find work to support themselves; and even when they did, who would mind their children.”

In her next novel, Florrie’s Girls (1989) she explores the lives of Irish women, like herself, who came to Britain after the Second World War to train as nurses. Her main character, Caithlin Cosgrove (Cos), comes from a rural background in Kerry. Post war Britain was a dreary place, and the hospital she works in reflects the country: she is living on rations, working long hours and. as a trainee nurse,  is the lowest of the low. The book is funny,  and the feisty Cos challenges the rule of Sister Maguire. “I thought she’d leap over the desk and fell me with a crucifix”. Through Cos we learn of the casual anti-Irish racism. When she goes to an English friend’s home,  her parents tell her, ”You’re a nice little thing, even if you are Irish.” More Irish women emigrated than Irish men, which meant that many married non-Irish men. This dilemma is faced by Cos when her friend decides to marry an Englishman, and her response is; ”It would wear me out having to forget all that I am, all that I am rooted in and the thousands of years that went into making me what I am.” Maeve wrote this novel in 1985 when 60,000 Irish were emigrating each year and it is sad that in 2012 once again Irish women will be forced to leave their own country to find work,  with little prospect of returning home.

Maeve’s other books include; Orange Horses (1990) and Alice in Thunderland;a feminist fairytale (1993)

I love badges

Con-Dem Their Cuts!

I love badges. At the moment on my sixties style green winter coat I am wearing the anti-government badge I bought on the national demo against the cuts on 26 March 2011. My love of badges started when. as young Catholic girl, I was given an Immaculate Mary medal. These were given to girls as a symbol of the Virgin Mary’s purity and of the kind of lifestyle the Catholic church wanted to promote for women. The Catholic church pays particular attention to brainwashing little girls into compliance and obedience. They are the future ground troops for the religion! Me, I just liked the idea of wearing the medal.

Lucky for me I came from a Irish republican socialist background. My father, Irish exile and building worker, tried his best to radicalise his children. Fighting against the modern culture of 70’s Britain, he explained the injustice faced by our people in Ireland and by others elsewhere in the world. Our heroes were Muhammed Ali and Bernadette Devlin, to name but two. He saw no contradiction between socialism and Catholicism. As a family we in fact practised a very traditional version of Catholicism – west of Ireland brand – a mix of nightly family rosaries and a triumphant trip to the church several times over the weekend. He had little regard for the clergy and saw them only as intermediaries to the “Big Fella” upstairs.

Radicalised I left my East Manchester council house and extended Irish family to go to university in Yorkshire. In the mid-70’s universities were alive with left,women’s groups and political activity. Brought up on the “s” word socialist I immediately joined the International Socialists (and gave up the church). I was now in badge heaven!
At University there was one for every political group and campaign – CND, Troops Out of Ireland, Anti-Apartheid plus numerous ones produced for industrial disputes and even a badge offering advice to the former Lady Diana in 1981 on her marriage , “Don’t Do It Di”. The “Ditch the Bitch” badge to commemorate Magaret Thatcher’s rise to power led to heated discussions between lefties and feminists.

Badges told the world what you believed in – immediately and to their faces. At University I got involved with the National Abortion Campaign. We wanted “ Free abortion on demand” and wore badges stating this. I wore my badge with pride at University, on marches …and back at home when I went to church! My mother looked shocked when I put on black duffle coat to go to church but she had already been so I went with Dad and my sisters. He couldn’t care less and was happy to have a dissident daughter. The priest didn’t pass a comment as he nodded at us as we left the church. He probably expected it of one of our family. Later on as Mum, Dad and I watched Question Time they told me that they supported abortion. They had seen enough pregnant women being chucked out of their family homes and sent away to Dublin to have their babies. Wearing a badge “A Woman’s Right to Choose” led to encounters with anonymous women in toilets where they told me they had had abortions but under terrible circumstances.They treated me as if I knew what they were talking about by just wearing a badge –maybe they wanted to believe that they were not alone…

So in 2012 where are all the badge wearers? As I wear my anti-government badge I see people reading it and looking like they agree with me. They must do – this is the northwest –few people vote Tory. I have had some good conversations with people who have randomly approached me. They say that they have lost their job, their children have degrees but work in coffee bars and they feel things can only get worse. Maybe wearing a badge is making a statement; saying what you think and inviting other people to respond. Wearing badges is not enough…but its a start and you can quickly find out who is on your side…follow me…