Himself Alone: David Trimble and the Ordeal Of Unionism. Dean Godson

person I know of who can tell you about the two types of Karelians – Finnish Lutherans or Russian Orthodox.’ Alcock, who had been commissioned by the Convention chairman, Sir Robert Lowry, to look at possible European models for resolving Ulster’s conflict, also introduced Trimble to the intricacies of the South Tyrol question. It greatly appealed to Trimble, for it illustrates the principle in Europe of maintaining existing boundaries, while protecting minority rights within those borders. Even though there is actually a German-speaking majority within the South Tyrol, it has been accepted that this region should remain in Italy, but with special provisions through the local authority and with a proportionality rule for public service employees.¹¹ Such cosmopolitanism might in and of itself have been sufficient cause for suspicion, but some of Trimble’s associations also aroused further doubts. After the Convention began, Trimble invited a couple of B&ICO activists – including Eamonn O’Kane, later General Secretary of the NAS-UWT – to place their pamphlets in the members’ pigeon holes at Stormont. Trimble derived huge pleasure from escorting in the left-wingers, one with an obviously Catholic name. Later, he ran into a DUP Convention member, Clifford Smyth. ‘David, there is such a thing as guilt by association, you know.’¹²

      During the Convention, Trimble also came into prolonged contact for the first time with the British, joining Craig in seven meetings with Merlyn Rees and his officials. He also came into sustained contact for the first time with the SDLP. Trimble’s maiden speech was a reply to Paddy Devlin. As the corpulent, working-class autodidact from the Belfast dockyards sat down, the pencil-thin, suburban academic stood up. As he did so, John Taylor whispered in his ear, ‘congratulate Paddy on that speech’. Trimble was at a loss, since he had not actually listened to Devlin: he was searching for his notes, which he feared he had lost. Trimble duly told the chamber that Devlin was trying ‘to achieve the greatest concord in this Convention. It was an approach which I welcomed and I am sure the people who sit on this side of the House with me welcomed it also.’¹³ Afterwards Devlin beckoned him over. ‘Can I have a word?’ said Devlin. ’Any chance of getting some talks going?’ Trimble said he did not know, but reported straight back to Craig.¹⁴ Craig wondered whether Devlin wanted talks in Craig’s capacity as Vanguard leader or as one of the chiefs of the loyalist coalition, or UUUC. When Trimble returned to Devlin, the latter said that either would do. For the next fortnight, Trimble spent much of his time at the Convention carrying secret messages back and forth between the two camps. Before entering the SDLP room at Stormont, Trimble looked down the corridor to make sure that no Unionists could observe him. Seeing that everything was safe, he opened the door only to find an SDLP group meeting in progress: the whole SDLP Convention party could see that Trimble was there. The consequence of such shuttle diplomacy was the inter-party talks which led to near-agreement on the voluntary coalition with the SDLP. Trimble remembers sitting alone in the members’ room one morning, drinking coffee, when Craig walked in and out of the blue asked him: ‘“How are we going to prepare our people to bring the SDLP into government?” You could have knocked me down with a feather. And my thoughts went instinctively to Jean Coulter [the staunchly unionist UUP Convention member for West Belfast]. How are we going to get it past her? But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, “this is a bloody good deal”.’¹⁵ Years later, after he signed the Belfast Agreement, Coulter was again an opponent of Trimble’s power-sharing ideas.

      Why was Craig, the great foe of Sunningdale, prepared to offer this to the SDLP? His reasoning was simple. In his view, Unionism had essentially three options in this period. First, they could either reach agreement with the other parties; second, they could by use of their majority in the Convention push a report that would be unacceptable to Westminster, and knowing that it was such then work to make direct rule more efficient; or, third, they could force a report on an unwilling Westminster, which amounted to a kind of insurrection. The latter option was not viable by this stage, for the only way that loyalists could raise the people of the Province against direct rule was in a context where Westminster had behaved unreasonably, such as in foisting Sunningdale upon an unwilling majority.¹⁶ The second option foreclosed any real possibility of a devolved govenment and meant acceptance of whatever ‘crumbs’ were on the ‘table’ from London. By contrast, the first option, in the particular circumstances in which Unionists found themselves, looked more attractive. For after the success of the UWC strike, Unionists were in a relatively strong position: not strong enough, he noted, to reimpose the old Stormont but enough to regain some kind of local institutions on better terms than Heath had offered to them. They had shown their residual muscle. And loyalist terrorists had even taken ‘the war’ down south in the Dublin-Monaghan bombings of May 1974. Moreover, a growing body of southern Irish opinion was anxious to disengage from ‘the North’ and effectively were telling Northern nationalists that they were now on their own and would have to cut the best deal they could with Unionists.¹⁷ Given these circumstances, there was a real chance of cross-community agreement, without which Westminster would never accept the Convention report (a report adopted by simple majority – that is, of Unionists – would not be sufficient in political terms). But even if they failed to reach such an agreement, there were tremendous advantages to be gained by acting as reasonable men putting forward reasonable proposals. If Unionists were for once not seen to be the nay-sayers in the eyes of mainland opinion, there was every chance that they might then be able to extract other concessions from central government, such as an increase in Northern Ireland’s representation at Westminster.

      Trimble had no doubts about the benefits to Unionism of Roman Catholics participating in government. ‘It would be of great benefit to Ulster’s political debate if all Unionist parties would examine carefully some aspects of the relationship between Unionism and persons of the Roman Catholic faith,’ he opined. ‘… But let us state what we mean when we say “We will accept Catholics in Government if they are loyal!” Qualifications for inclusion must mean 1. Being prepared to act constitutionally, and only to seek change within the law. 2. Being prepared to accept the will of the majority that Ulster remains part of the United Kingdom. 3. Being prepared to support the forces of law … In present circumstances it would be highly advantageous for unionism if there were Catholics, who satisfied the above conditions, and who could be included in a unionist administration. But they would have to be representative Catholics, not G.B. Newe type figures [the only Catholic brought into government under Stormont, during Faulkner’s premiership].’¹⁸

      On what terms, though, would these representative Catholics – that is, the SDLP – enter government? What was clearly unacceptable to Unionists was that they have a place in the administration of Northern Ireland as of right. Compulsory power-sharing would be outside of normal British parliamentary practice. But, Craig (and Trimble) conjectured, there were other ways of ensuring that a variety of parties were represented in government: in other words, fulfilling the need for minority representation without it appearing that a gun was being held at the head of the majority. If the composition of the government was voluntary – say, for the duration of a national emergency such as on the lines of the 1940–45 war-time coalition – then it might prove more acceptable. Moreover, few could argue that the circumstances then obtaining in Northern Ireland constituted anything other than an emergency. The SDLP would have a place in government, but beyond the first few years there would be no guarantee of anything. They would be bound by Westminster-style collective responsibility in the majority Unionist Northern Ireland Cabinet, whose First Minister/Chief Executive could hire and fire at will. And, above all, any such arrangements would be lacking an ‘Irish dimension’, such as the Council of Ireland which had contributed so powerfully to Faulkner’s demise after Sunningdale.¹⁹

      Trimble says that Craig later told him that the idea first occurred to him during his private talks with John Hume, another senior SDLP figure, at John Taylor’s house in Armagh in 1973.²⁰