Killing terrorists is not a crime

When is a war not a war?

When it’s being fought by the Irish Republican Army, apparently. Last week, an inquest ruled that SAS soldiers were unjustified in using lethal force against four IRA terrorists in an ambush at Clonoe, in County Tyrone. The men were killed minutes after they carried out an attack on Coalisland police station in February 1992, as they drove away in a hijacked lorry which had a machine gun welded to its tailgate.

In statements given at the time, the soldiers argued that the use of lethal force was necessary, in order to protect their own lives and those of their colleagues from the danger presented by the IRA gunmen. But what do soldiers know about warfare, eh?

According to Mr Justice Humphreys (no previous military service), they really ought to have known better. No attempt was made to arrest the gun-toting terrorists — and the naughty British soldiers didn’t even give the IRA an opportunity to shoot at them before they opened fire. 

In any sane state, the hand-wringers would be dismissed automatically, and the soldiers who took part in this operation would be lauded for their role in neutralising insurgents. Unfortunately, we do not live in any such state — and this case is not an isolated one. 

In fact, it’s characteristic of the British state’s post-1998 approach to Northern Ireland. Since the ratification of the Good Friday Agreement, cases such as these are depressingly common. While prominent IRA men like Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness were allowed to integrate into public life, British soldiers have faced scrutiny by an endless litany of tribunals, commissions, and inquiries, which pore over every detail of their battlefield actions. 

All of this has been exacerbated by a slick campaign to seek “justice” for IRA men who happily launched guerilla attacks on civilians and police officers. There is something particularly ghoulish about the Republican tendency to laud IRA militants as brave freedom fighters, while crying foul at any attempt to neutralise the threat posed by those same militants. Perfectly happy to do the shooting — not so keen on being shot at.

British security services were consistently held to standards to which the IRA themselves were not held

There is no ambiguity here — the Irish Republican Army considered itself to be in a state of war with the United Kingdom. For decades, the IRA waged a campaign of terror, killing soldiers and civilians alike. Prominent IRA men, like Bobby Sands, protested to be treated as prisoners of war, and explicitly regarded themselves as political prisoners. 

And when charged with combatting this threat, British security services were consistently held to standards to which the IRA themselves were not held. Even while the conflict continued to rage, British soldiers were hauled before courts to defend their actions. In 1995, the ECHR infamously ruled against a team of SAS soldiers who neutralised three members of the IRA in Gibraltar, who were believed to be planning a bomb attack. In that case, the Strasbourg Court ruled that it had not been “absolutely necessary” to open fire — despite the fact that the soldiers in question were acting in accordance with their training. 

In what other context would soldiers be expected to fight a war under such constraints? In the heat of the moment, faced with terrorists who proudly boast of their violent intentions, how can it be reasonable to expect soldiers to behave like gentlemen duellists, patiently waiting for the enemy to fire the first shot?

Yet follow the prevalent Republican narrative, and you would be led to believe that it was the British Army which fought a brutal guerilla warfare campaign, against peaceful political activists. To this day, IRA-adjacent campaign groups continue to insist that their fallen comrades were simultaneously waging virtuous war against the sassenachs and innocently minding their own business. This sort of egregious crybullying deserves a moniker of its own — perhaps “Schrodinger’s Terrorist”?

This is made all the more galling by the British state’s refusal to treat its own men — legitimate representatives of the state’s military — with the same esteem. As far as Westminster is concerned, Northern Ireland might as well be in the middle of the Indian Ocean, or somewhere in the South Atlantic. Consistent with its approach to these theatres, the Government appears to have adopted a policy of sustained reputational surrender.

This sorry approach is motivated by a poisonous mixture of cowardice, legalism — and ignorance. Talk to most MPs about “Republican violence”, and you’re more likely to elicit comments on January 6th than Omagh or Warrenpoint.

But this indifference has real consequences. For as long as Westminster remains detached from Northern Ireland’s post-Troubles settlement, rulings like these will continue. Good men, who did their duty and fought for their country, will find themselves demonised by kangaroo courts designed to exonerate terrorists. The slow weaving of a revisionist narrative about the Troubles, which paints us as villains for daring to combat terrorism on our own soil, will continue apace.

And most of all, the British state will continue to show the world that it does, in fact, negotiate with terrorists. We will continue to be a state which puts abstract principles before the safety of its people, and which will give whatever concessions are necessary to avoid causing disruption. If we can’t even stand up for our own soldiers, what will we stand for?