Even today, no one knows who fired the first shot or why. The paras later claimed that they had only opened fire when they were shot at. However that may be, a peaceful demonstration became a rout, as screaming people fled the soldiers’ bullets. By the end of the day, thirteen Catholics lay dead. No direct IRA involvement was ever proven, and the houses from which the soldiers saw firing were later shown to have held neither snipers nor weapons of any kind. And yet it is scarcely conceivable that trained men would have opened fire with no provocation whatever. The truth may never be known. For the time being at least, ‘Bloody Sunday’ stripped the British government of any moral authority: for those in the Catholic community, the Republic and many in the wider world, it had the burning brand of imperialism. Only two years before, the army had been admired for the tolerance and good humour it had usually displayed. Now what was left of that reputation was gone.
It was the end of the Northern Ireland parliament, and Direct Rule at last took shape. The government proclaimed it was left with ‘no alternative to assuming full and direct responsibility for the administration of Northern Ireland until a political solution for the problems of the Province can be worked out in consultation with all those concerned’. Whatever decision was to be made regarding the future of the Province, it was clear that the Republic must in some way be involved. Given that such a proposal would have been quite unacceptable to the Unionists, there was only one man who had a chance of presenting it: William ‘Willie’ Whitelaw. Genial, loyal and boundlessly benevolent, he could charm the claws from a tiger.
Whitelaw and others forged a national executive at Sunningdale, composed of all parties, including representatives from the South. In later years it would be seen as the precursor to the Anglo-Irish and Good Friday Agreements. Had goodwill prevailed it might perhaps have succeeded, but it was stillborn. Scarcely had the necessary antagonisms been aired when Whitelaw was summoned back to England to deal with the second miners’ strike. If only he had stayed to chair the executive, if only the Unionists had been more tractable, if only the Nationalists had seen the other side’s point of view: but it was not to be. In any case, the more zealous in the Protestant community saw the agreement as nothing more than an attempt to subvert the clear will of the majority. The Province fell victim to a general strike, and worse was to follow. Belfast was taken over by Loyalist paramilitaries, while the army stood by and the RUC colluded. The rule of law had been replaced by the rule of a faction. The options remaining to the government were martial law or capitulation, and they chose the latter. There was a further political price to be paid; the Unionists never forgave Heath for the Sunningdale Agreement, which they regarded as an attempt to subvert what they saw as their ancient rights, and their foes saw as their unjust privileges.
47
The fall of Heath
Amidst what can seem only a forest of white flags, some undoubted victories for Heath’s government may be discerned. The Family Income Supplement was one. An early piece of legislation, it helped countless poor couples to raise families on very little. Other laws to help the disadvantaged were legion. That Heath had turned his political energies in that direction was a source of puzzlement to many of his foes.
But perhaps this humanitarian impulse showed itself most clearly in Heath’s decision to allow the Asians of Uganda to enter Britain as refugees. Expelled by Idi Amin, these people still held British passports granted by Macmillan, and now looked to the mother country for succour. In retrospect, it seems remarkable that there should have been the slightest resistance to such a plea, but concerns about immigration were still alive. The meat porters of Smithfield came to parliament in a crowd of 500 to show their support for Enoch Powell. He had declared that the question of passports was ‘a spoof’, and maintained that ownership of one conferred no right of residence. In the circumstances, it was an ugly and specious argument, and the government crushed it. Heath himself never wavered; the refugees arrived, and the country showed itself at its best. Government help aside, Asian communities were quick to offer shelter, food and housing, as were other groups. It was perhaps Heath’s noblest hour; his grandest was still to come.