Over the longer term, McLaughlin was confident that republicans would obtain what they wanted, which was nothing less than the Frameworks Documents. This was because in his view, ‘ordinary Unionist people and the Unionist business community are far more realistic’ (this was also the NIO line of the post-ceasefire period). Whilst preferring not to have a Northern assembly under its Strand I proposals – on the ground that it would confer some legitimacy upon the six counties – McLaughlin said that Sinn Fein would accept it in the context of a ‘transitional process’ if there were sufficient checks and balances to prevent a return to majoritarian Unionist domination. If satisfied on this point, Sinn Fein might tolerate an assembly for a short while as a tactical concession. When Hunter asked him why unionists should cooperate in creating a united Ireland, McLaughlin replied: ‘We accept there must be a transitional process but it will be an interim phase on the way to a united Ireland. It will enable unionists to adjust to change. They will grow to accept a united Ireland.’ Later, the tone became harsher still. McLaughlin told Hunter that ‘the British are spoiling for a fight. If they want one, they can have it.’ (McLaughlin’s office states this was said in a purely political sense.) But the IRA was already preparing its devastating response to the ‘log-jam’ in the ‘peace process’. Hunter suspected that all was not well. Likewise, Trimble was alarmed by the increasing numbers of punishment beatings and terrorist training and targeting. Thus, at their first meeting after he became UUP leader, on 14 September 1995, when John Hume told him that he felt that the IRA would not go back to violence, Trimble viewed the claim with much scepticism.30 His fears would soon be terribly vindicated.
IF David Trimble stands for anything as leader of his party, it is for the modernisation of Ulster Unionism. This is not simply a question, as he often likes to say, of making Unionists ‘think politically rather than simply presenting a hard face to the world’. It is also a question of overhauling party organisation and of bringing on energetic young cadres who would become the Unionist First XI of the future. Many thought that this was largely a matter of breaking or reforming the party’s traditional links with the Orange Order, but it was more ambitious in scope than that. It took up much of his time in his early months as leader; Conor Cruise O’Brien paid his first visit ever to Glengall Street shortly after Trimble’s election and was struck by how absorbed the new leader was in internal party management and with establishing his credentials within the broader Unionist family.1 Fergus Finlay derived the same impression and concluded that such imperatives would preclude rapid progress in the ‘peace process’.2
The party which David Trimble took over from Jim Molyneaux was antiquated in its culture and structure. Thus, until the mid-1990s, claims Jim Wilson (the chief executive of the UUP from 1987 to 1998) the party would send out press releases in black taxis to just five obvious outlets, such as the News Letter. Then there was the matter of the party’s federated structure. Its organisation resembled that of the Tories prior to William Hague’s reforms of 1997–8. There was, however, one crucial difference with the Conservatives: whereas the power of Tory associations via the old National Union and Central Council was more apparent than real, the analogous UUP structures were invested with genuine democratic significance. The party was a collection of highly independent local associations and affiliated bodies which came together in something called the Ulster Unionist Council. This met annually, usually in March, to elect the officers and the leader. Crucially, a mere 60 signatures was required to trigger a meeting of the UUC, a rule which was to bedevil Trimble’s life in the coming years. The 860-member UUC delegated to the leader and the officers collectively the task of employing the staff of the headquarters organisation. The officers, in turn, were also subject to the scrutiny of the 120-strong party executive, whose job was to make policy in consultation with the leader. Because of local autonomy, there was no common membership list throughout the Province and Glengall Street thus had little idea of the party’s total strength. Indeed, in many places the lists were held in exercise books and people would be deemed to be members of the UUP if they donated an apple pie to a Halloween fundraiser.3 And then there was the vexed issue of the UUP’s links with the Orange Order: as well as the obvious individual party members who happened to be Orangemen, the Orange Institution as a whole sent around 120 delegates to the UUC. Those delegates could be appointed by people who were not necessarily members of the UUP; indeed, as Jack Allen observes, as much as two-thirds of the members of some County Lodges could be supporters of the DUP.4
Concern about the UUP’s organisational obsolescence predated Trimble’s election as leader, but little came of it. There was always something else on the agenda in terms of the peace process, and the important invariably yielded pride of place to the urgent. The group of dynamic young hardliners who had pushed Trimble for the leadership were, however, determined to change things. But it is hard to know, even in this area, what Trimble really wanted to do, as opposed to any casual talk of radical reform in which he may have indulged others before 1995. Prior to his victory, says John Hunter, Trimble always wanted a ‘clean-out’ of Glengall Street and that he spoke derisively of its ‘good ole’ boy’ culture.5 The ‘Young Turks’ appear to have been operating on the asssumption that they were ridding the sovereign of his ‘turbulent priests’. Denis Rogan, then UUP vice chairman recalls that ‘either they were promised or in the campaign thought there would be a gutting of Glengall Street – a whole series of young advisers brought in to drive a new policy’.6
A counter-offensive was soon launched by the old guard. James Cooper spoke for many senior party stalwarts – few of whom declared for Trimble in the leadership race – when he opined that Trimble had been elected with too narrow a base from the right wing of the Orange Order (at this point, says Cooper, there were also doubts about Trimble’s stability and his willingness to stay the course).7 But Trimble was for now the leader and they would have to work with him. The question was on whose terms? The Young Turks’ or the party establishment’s? Jim Nicholson’s recollection of the first officers’ meeting was that ‘it was fairly difficult and edgy. A lot of officers didn’t trust what David Trimble would do – an attempt to do a clean sweep of party people who did great service.’8 Jeffrey Donaldson, an honorary secretary of the party, says that at this first meeting, Trimble was told in no uncertain terms that he was not to conduct any widespread purges.9 Jack Allen recalls that ‘Jim Nicholson would muse that times were changing and that there was now a new regime but it soon became clear that things would go on as before. I told Jim Wilson “David Trimble can’t sack you.” The leader doesn’t really have that power, though he can influence things.’10 Allen’s last remark accords with Trimble’s own analysis. Trimble says that he was gravely embarrassed by Hunter’s claims of imminent purges, ‘none of which I could have done if I’d wanted to’. He notes that Ulster Unionist leaders are in a very weak position vis-à-vis the party organisation compared to Paisley’s DUP (which, Trimble believes,