18 March 1999 Edition
A Light from Portlaoise?
The brother passed on a gift to me last week, of a Portlaoise lamp which he has kept at home for more than twenty years. He thought I should have something made in the prisons for my mantelpiece, considering as prison art would soon be a thing of the past and Long Kesh harps or Portlaoise crosses would be collectors items. The lamp is as good today as it was then, a fine piece of craft work, well finished and with the legend Óglaigh na hÉireann, Príosún Portlaoise written on its base. Unfortunately, I don't know who made it, or how long he spent inside, though I'd hope that by now he is long long out of prison. Of course, you never know.
Sitting beside the lamp is a Long Kesh cottage, vintage 1998, which takes equal pride of place on the fireplace and raises just as much interest among visitors. Who made it? How long did he do? Where is he now? These are all questions which in the case of the cottage I can answer, and the answers usually lead to the inevitable questions about prisoners being released, the pros and cons of it, and a general acceptance that in the context of a peace settlement releases are necessary.
What does surprise some visitors to the house, however, is that there are still prisoners remaining in the H Blocks and in Portlaoise. Outside of republicans, there is almost a universal misunderstanding that `all the prisoners are out now, surely' and among republicans there is an equally dangerous and widespread misunderstanding that `all the prisoners are going to be out very soon, surely'. Both these points of view contribute to the whole question of prisoner releases taking a back seat in the present stage of the process and to the pressure for releases being dispersed prematurely.
A few months back, when I was given the present of the Long Kesh Cottage, I flattered myself to think that maybe, just maybe, it would be one of the last pieces of handicraft to make its way out from Long Kesh. POWs handicrafts would be a memento, held as lovingly by families and friends for the next twenty years as the Portlaoise lampstand was for the past twenty years until the memory of whatever prisoner made it would become fainter even while his or her craft remained as a reminder of the culture of imprisonment. Since then, however, wishful thinking has been taken over by cold reality. POWs still send out their crafts, and Portlaoise is now as full as it was a year ago, mainly due to the influx of POWs repatriated from England and the harps and crosses are a reminder of what is rather than what used to be.
This week sees the first batch of screws taking early retirement from the H Blocks as the population there continues to fall. Meanwhile there are twenty six POWs in Portlaoise, four out of five of them transferred from English prisons. The screws have apparently taken to calling the place HMP Portlaoise, knowing as they do that the majority of their prison population is being held at the direct behest of the British. Four of these prisoners are now in their twenty fourth year of imprisonment. The Dublin Government now have the shameful honour of holding the longest serving POWs in the history of the Irish British conflict, and not even for any alleged action carried out on Irish soil. And yet, despite their claims that they cannot release POWs without British consent the Dublin government knows that under existing legislation it can release immediately every remaining political prisoner in Portlaoise. What is lacking is not the legislation but the political will.
The Good Friday Agreement committed the British and Irish governments to releasing all political prisoners. Portlaoise Prison now holds a large group of repatriated POWs, none of whom have any idea as to when they will be released. It's time the Dublin government took steps to resolve this issue and to release the remaining POWs in Portlaoise, something which is within their power. It might throw some ray of light and hope that they are serious about living up to what is written in the agreement. After 24 years, they could start by releasing the Balcombe Street Four this Easter.
Sitting beside the lamp is a Long Kesh cottage, vintage 1998, which takes equal pride of place on the fireplace and raises just as much interest among visitors. Who made it? How long did he do? Where is he now? These are all questions which in the case of the cottage I can answer, and the answers usually lead to the inevitable questions about prisoners being released, the pros and cons of it, and a general acceptance that in the context of a peace settlement releases are necessary.
What does surprise some visitors to the house, however, is that there are still prisoners remaining in the H Blocks and in Portlaoise. Outside of republicans, there is almost a universal misunderstanding that `all the prisoners are out now, surely' and among republicans there is an equally dangerous and widespread misunderstanding that `all the prisoners are going to be out very soon, surely'. Both these points of view contribute to the whole question of prisoner releases taking a back seat in the present stage of the process and to the pressure for releases being dispersed prematurely.
A few months back, when I was given the present of the Long Kesh Cottage, I flattered myself to think that maybe, just maybe, it would be one of the last pieces of handicraft to make its way out from Long Kesh. POWs handicrafts would be a memento, held as lovingly by families and friends for the next twenty years as the Portlaoise lampstand was for the past twenty years until the memory of whatever prisoner made it would become fainter even while his or her craft remained as a reminder of the culture of imprisonment. Since then, however, wishful thinking has been taken over by cold reality. POWs still send out their crafts, and Portlaoise is now as full as it was a year ago, mainly due to the influx of POWs repatriated from England and the harps and crosses are a reminder of what is rather than what used to be.
This week sees the first batch of screws taking early retirement from the H Blocks as the population there continues to fall. Meanwhile there are twenty six POWs in Portlaoise, four out of five of them transferred from English prisons. The screws have apparently taken to calling the place HMP Portlaoise, knowing as they do that the majority of their prison population is being held at the direct behest of the British. Four of these prisoners are now in their twenty fourth year of imprisonment. The Dublin Government now have the shameful honour of holding the longest serving POWs in the history of the Irish British conflict, and not even for any alleged action carried out on Irish soil. And yet, despite their claims that they cannot release POWs without British consent the Dublin government knows that under existing legislation it can release immediately every remaining political prisoner in Portlaoise. What is lacking is not the legislation but the political will.
The Good Friday Agreement committed the British and Irish governments to releasing all political prisoners. Portlaoise Prison now holds a large group of repatriated POWs, none of whom have any idea as to when they will be released. It's time the Dublin government took steps to resolve this issue and to release the remaining POWs in Portlaoise, something which is within their power. It might throw some ray of light and hope that they are serious about living up to what is written in the agreement. After 24 years, they could start by releasing the Balcombe Street Four this Easter.