Brendan `Bik' McFarlane, OC of republican prisoners during the 1981 hunger strike, said that the hunger strikes were ``fundamental to the development of the republican struggle. We probably would not be at this stage but for the sacrifice of 1981. It changed the politics of this country.''

He was speaking at a panel discussion with Jim Gibney, Martin Anderson and Tony Doherty on the legacy of the 1980 and 1981 hunger strikes, held at the Calgagh Centre in Derry on Saturday 27 January.

Of the period itself and his own role, he said: ``1981 was probably the worst year of my life. Despite the political gains, the loss of that year is always with me. This is the 20th anniversary, but it was yesterday, I have such vivid memories. For republicans who were involved, it is so close, so real. It is a living issue. Those men were all friends of ours. We had to contact the families and these were heartbreaking encounters. For us, 1981 happened yesterday.''

Former POW Martina Anderson called on republicans to do more to recognise the role of women in the struggle for equality and freedom. She told the audience that, in considering the part both she and other women had played, she had been struck ``by the worrying degree of exorcism of women out of history'' as well as the difference in status afforded to male and female POWs.'' (Anderson's contribution is reproduced below).

Jim Gibney, a founder member of the Relatives Action Committee during the Hunger Strikes, said that as part of the 20-year commemorations it was important to try and recreate a sense of the time, ``so that those too young to remember or yet to be born can touch that seminal period.

``It is obviously impossible to convey all that went on during what I regard as one of the most heroic periods of our history,'' he said. ``For the story of the hunger strikes did not begin on 27 October 1980; it started four years earlier in 1976 when a 19-year-old Belfast republican, Ciaran Nugent, standing naked and alone in a prison cell in the H Blocks, defied the might of the British government and refused to wear a prison uniform. Ciaran Nugent had an idea in his head - he was a political prisoner. In 1976 it was a small act, but it grew. Ten men died to prove it and the world knew the truth.''

Tony Doherty, whose father was shot dead on Bloody Sunday, recalled that on the first day of Bobby Sands' hunger strike, he was a 19-year-old spending his first day in C Wing of Crumlin Road jail. His involvement in the struggle was, he said, ``inextricably linked to the experience of Bloody Sunday''.

Similarly, he said, ``a defining moment in the young life of Bobby Sands was when his Rathcoole home was burned by loyalists in 1969 and like many others, the Sands' became refugees in their own city of Belfast. The hunger strikers of 1980 and 1981 were products of a morally and politically corrupt society, a society which wilfully destroyed the Civil Rights Association on the streets of Derry in 1972.''

The meeting was also addressed by Margaret McCauley, the sister of Michael Devine. ``Twenty years ago,'' she said, ``I listened to the radio and they were speaking about a room being set aside for the families of the hunger strikers. I never thought that one day I would be in that room and then have to see my brother, looking like a 70-year-old man, almost blind and with his teeth turning into cheese.

``I have been asked on many occasions `was it worth it?' and I always reply I don't know, but ten young men thought it was. I made a promise and I kept it.''

Marginalising women's involvement

The following is the text of an address delivered by republican ex-prisoner MARTINA ANDERSON to a Bloody Sunday Weekend meeting in Derry last Friday on the lesons to be learned from the hunger strikes of 1980 and 1981. She described how women's contributions have been downplayed and undervalued and challenged republicans to move forward on the basis of equality.

The period of the hunger strikes was a traumatic time in our history and many of us here this evening were caught up in the events surrounding them. We all have our own very personal feelings, experiences and thoughts about that era. The invitation to speak here led to a period of reflection where I tried to gather my thoughts. It struck me that caught up in such traumatic times rendered it difficult to connect how events then shaped my character, equipping me with skills and abilities that have stayed with me. But the hunger strike also embedded within me feelings of hurt and I have to admit anger that have not gone away.

    
The construction of women as in some way playing a lesser role in our struggle emanated not just from republicans portraying Long Kesh as `the' jail housing POWs, but also from a social formation that reflects the particular power and interest of those involved in the creation of a male-dominated society
For me, tonight's discussion is also about hindsight, looking at the personal, political and historical lessons from which the movement as a whole must learn. I have no doubt that throughout this year, with the formation of the `81 Committees, a lot of our focus will be placed on the ten men who died. This is deservedly the case but it is not the whole picture of our struggle. The danger of having too narrow a focus is that we distort the personal, political and historical elements that truly depict the story of our movement. I was asked to speak to the role of women. As I deliberate, I am struck by what I see as a worrying degree of exorcism of women out of our history and also the different status given to different POWs.

Women have been the backbone of the protest movement on the streets and have participated equally in prison struggles, giving leadership and inspiration. Many marched for civil rights and were in Derry during the Bloody Sunday massacre of 14 people and the injuring of 14 others. Britain knew the threat that women posed and thus interned hundreds of our female comrades during the 1970s, a fact not so widely documented or reported, even by ourselves.

Prior to the start of the hunger strikes I was politically active and involved in the many street campaigns, developing awareness, agitating and being politically educated. During that period we vigorously campaigned, attended marches, picketed, blocked roads and thwarted Britain's normalisation policy as well as its attempt at criminalising our prisoners and by extension, our struggle. It was mainly mothers, wives, daughters, sisters and female comrades who carried those campaigns and who made the trips to the jails bringing in and out news and whatever else was required.

Like my other comrades, I take my involvement in the struggle seriously and know and accept the risks. In 1981, I spent a short period of time on remand in Armagh Jail and got to know some of the women who had been on the `no-wash' protest and who had joined our comrades on the 1980 hunger strike. Despite being aware of my ongoing personal political development, I believed at the time that I had a good understanding of what was happening to my comrades in jails. However, arriving in Armagh I was shocked by what I encountered. It was not the experience of imprisonment that shocked me but my actual lack of knowledge and understanding of the conditions under which my female comrades were being held. During that period in Armagh, short as it was, I learnt much about prison struggle that influenced my personal and political development and heightened my awareness for the necessity of ``gender equality'' within society and our movement.

I knew that on the ground, because I had just come from there, that there was an unequal focus and a lack of intense discussion about the women who had been on hunger strike and the no-wash protest. Endeavouring to understand why this was so, I concluded that the construction of women as in some way playing a lesser role in our struggle emanated not just from republicans portraying Long Kesh as `the' jail housing POWs, but also from a social formation that reflects the particular power and interest of those involved in the creation of a male-dominated society. For Irish women, the Catholic Church's Mother Mary figure impeded our social, political and cultural development. But it was not just Catholicism, but capitalism and some proclaimed socialists' societies that shaped a discourse depicting women as passive, unquestioning, vulnerable individuals protected by strong, defiant men. However, prison struggle and the war caused profound changes in women's perceptions of themselves in Irish society.

The legacy of the death of our ten comrades on hunger strike, the commitment of republicans to challenge British occupation, the turmoil and intensity of emotions during that period and my lack of knowledge about what female comrades were suffering, had an impact on me which has remained throughout my life. I have had many experiences and thus have gained a lot of skills from interacting with many of my female comrades and other women in society. It was an amalgamation of those skills and experiences that I drew on and helped me to cope with the isolation and with the countless strip searches, sometimes six a day, when jailed in England.

For republican women, being involved in our struggle challenged the state of inequality and dependency that arose from those male-dominated establishments. Those of us who deviated from ``norms'' emanating from that discourse and mindset experienced scorn from many in society, most notably and not surprisingly male establishment judges, as we stood trial as much for being involved in a war that was the supposed terrain of men, as for our actual activity in the war.

I am therefore concerned that despite the changes in women's outlook and the impact of the hunger strike on all our lives, that 20 years on there remains a danger that the role played by so many women throughout the period of our struggle is being neglected and forgotten. Despite attempts by women like Maeve McLaughlin, it has not been documented in the way that other parts of our history have. All of us, both men and women, must ensure that the work of the `81 Committees reflects the role of women, not just those who were imprisoned but also those who took to the streets, involving themselves in the many sites of struggle relating to our cause.

The shortcomings in our dealing with the history of women is sadly reflected in what I would define as the creation of a hierarchy of prisoners. Our movement's history is littered with the experiences of jail, but most of it has a Long Kesh focus. It is noticeable that for example in remembering this recent phase of struggle that badges were produced, though not sought, for those POWs who spent time in one jail, Long Kesh. The same acclaim, while not sought, was not however produced for female POWs who equally spent time in Armagh, Maghaberry and Durham, nor was it produced for comrades imprisoned in the 26 Counties, England or further afield.

The strength of the Irish people lies in our thirst for justice and equality. In order to fully achieve that we must smash the gender barriers in society and also in our movement. It is only when that is done that we will see the full extent of the strength of our people and we will have a much more united and stronger movement. We must learn, like the Proclamation declares, to love and cherish, and I add acknowledge, all the children of the nation equally.

When we talk to others about equality we must ensure that we practice it ourselves in our personal and political activity. We enter this defining moment in our history unbowed and unbroken, with a growing sense of confidence, seeking to expand our electoral base because we know we need more political power to secure our goal. Let us ensure that throughout this period, organising as we are for victory, that justice and equality, in all its forms, are the benchmarks by which our struggle is defined.