Monday, Jan. 11, 1988

Northern Ireland Days of Fear and Hope

By Howard G. Chua-Eoan

In the police headquarters at Newry, County Down, Superintendent Gerry French of the Royal Ulster Constabulary frets over the calm. Nothing unusual is going on outside in the bustling, mainly Catholic town. Pedestrians stroll. Shoppers head for McEvoy's Fashion Store close by. But even the commonplace may impart fear in Ulster, and French knows that appearances are deceptive. In February 1986, mortar shells launched by the Irish Republican Army thundered down on the police station, killing nine officers as they ate their evening meal. Since rebuilt, Newry station is now a fortress, protected by thick concrete walls and a 30-ft.-high reinforced-steel fence. "I know they are out there plotting and planning," says French of the I.R.A. "It takes very few on their side to create havoc."

The past year has seen havoc enough. Sectarian violence claimed 93 lives, up from 61 in 1986, bringing the toll to 2,628 since 1969. Among the victims, 27 were members of the R.U.C., the British army and the Ulster Defense Regiment, the locally recruited, predominantly Protestant militia that assists in policing the province. On the other hand, the I.R.A. suffered its worst setbacks in years. It lost 22 men, including eight members of a single unit, and in November both the Protestant majority and the Catholic minority condemned the organization for its part in the bombing deaths of eleven civilians in Enniskillen. The I.R.A.'s troubles are no comfort, however, to officers like French. Sooner or later, they believe, the I.R.A. will stage a spectacular comeback to restore morale among its hard-line supporters.

French has been through Ulster's cycles of violence from the beginning. A close friend, who had joined the R.U.C. on the same day that French did, was killed in 1970, the first police victim of the I.R.A. Today French is responsible for some of the roughest terrain in Ulster, a stretch of 41 miles along the border with the Irish Republic that is part of "bandit country." The I.R.A. constantly uses the 291 crossings along the 280-mile border to escape manhunts, carry out ambushes and smuggle weapons and explosives.

As British army helicopters rattle over the border's farmlands, troops survey the countryside from 60-ft.-high watchtowers. With 10,000 British soldiers serving in ten battalions in Ulster, an army spokesman notes, "you get soldiers who are very young and want action. Where do they get it better than in Northern Ireland? They pick up infantry skills they could not get on any training course." The R.U.C. keeps in constant contact with the Garda Siochana, the police force of the Irish Republic. "There used to be a lot of ambivalence from Dublin about terrorism," says a high-ranking R.U.C. officer. "But not anymore." Says French: "If we mount an operation, they will block escape routes on their side. If we want their help, we get it."

The new spirit of cooperation arose with the signing of the historic Anglo- Irish accord in 1985. As a result of the agreement, Dublin now has a say in the affairs of Ulster, while recognizing that British sovereignty in the province can be changed only through democratic means. Recently the Republic has sought to intercept clandestine arms shipments into both north and south. In November 7,000 Irish troops and police launched Operation Mallard, an extensive search through 50,000 homes near the border and in large cities like Dublin. The haul: four I.R.A. fugitives and a cache of 22 rifles, 15 revolvers, 13 shotguns, 4,000 rounds of ammunition and 25 bombs. They also found three I.R.A. underground bunkers, one of them as big as a house and equipped with electricity and ventilation. Early last month the Irish ratified a European treaty that should make it easier for Britain to request the extradition of suspected terrorists.

Fearing Dublin's interference, Protestants heatedly condemned the Anglo- Irish accord. Passions cooled as Britain firmly defended the treaty, and the Republic's influence did not grow as much as anticipated. Still, Protestants continue to oppose the treaty and have met with the government of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher six times in the past six months to negotiate an alternative to it. London is skeptical there will be one. Says a British official: "Mrs. Thatcher believes 200% that they cannot come up with an acceptable offer."

Despite police worries, the atmosphere in the provincial capital of Belfast is more relaxed than it has been for years. The city's bars and restaurants are thriving. During the holidays, a Protestant banner opposing the Anglo- Irish accord was altered from BELFAST SAYS NO to BELFAST SAYS NOEL. The province as a whole seems less tense. Unemployment is at 17.6%, down from almost 20% a year ago. British troops are visible only in the 15% of Northern Ireland where the I.R.A. is most dangerous. Aside from the bandit country, these areas include West Belfast and sections of Londonderry, where pro- terrorist graffiti are a common sight.

Perhaps because of the relative calm, seasoned terrorism experts in Belfast fear a fresh outbreak of violence. They know that the I.R.A. is deeply frustrated after nearly 20 years of fighting without achieving its main objective, British withdrawal. As the outrage shared by Catholics and Protestants alike over Enniskillen starts to fade, a new offensive could be in the works. "People are beginning to say that it hasn't changed a damn thing," says Ken Maginnis, Westminster M.P. for Fermanagh and South Tyrone, which includes Enniskillen. "Deep down, the mistrust between the two communities is still there." Says a Catholic parish priest in Belfast: "Every time there is a consensus, the I.R.A. delivers a reminder that it still has a vicious bite." And so Ulster watches and waits.

With reporting by Edmund Curran/Belfast