Wilie Ross's Point

The multi-party talks process is going nowhere fast, according to East Londonderry MP Willie Ross, who is determined that the unionist community will resist Tony Blair's attempts to forge a settlement. By Carolyn Farrar
Willie Ross, member of parliament for the district that most of his constituents would call East Londonderry, says there are those who accuse him of “sniping” at the ongoing multi-party talks on Northern Ireland.

“But what people forget,” he adds, “is that snipers usually hit what they're aiming at.”

And what Ross is aiming at, he says, is the truth. That talking with Sinn Féin will not stop the violence. That people must start thinking realistically about what the multi-party talks can achieve. And that any talks on the future of the six counties must begin with the proposition that Northern Ireland will remain part of the United Kingdom—full stop.

“I'm trying to make it clear to people exactly what the real situation is, rather than the perceived situation,” he says. “It seems to me that there is an awful lot of talk out there which is designed to mislead people.”

Ross, 62, has represented the Co Derry district since 1974. It's a safe seat for the Ulster Unionist, whose unionist bona fides go way back. On a wall in his office is a framed, handwritten letter from the Irish Unionist Joint Committee to his great-grandfather Leslie Alexander Ross, who was active in the 1892 Unionist Convention and the anti-Home Rule movement.

“You have every right to feel proud of the fact that you have been one of those who fought in the great battle of 1895 for the civil and religious liberty of our unhappy land,” committee officials wrote.

Willie Ross cites Rosses behind the walls during the siege—yes, that siege—whom he believes are relations. Rosses, probably related, have lived in the nearby Claudy area since the 1640s. His direct family has been on these Dungiven townlands for more than 250 years. He's a member of the Orange Order and the Apprentice Boys of Derry. Even the family's house has a pedigree: The previous owners had an ancestor who served in King William's army.

Right now, Ross says, it's his job to illuminate. It's nonsense, he says, using a word he uses often, to think that it is possible for unionists to reach an agreement with republicans on how Northern Ireland should be governed within the United Kingdom.

“I must confess that I cannot see how they in any practical way could ever agree to a system which allowed that to happen,” he says. “And the unionist population is duty bound to do every single thing they can to maintain Northern Ireland within the United Kingdom.” The parties may be able to reach an agreement on some things, but “I don't see how you can reach an accommodation on that fundamental.”

Additionally, he sees no difference between Sinn Féin and the IRA; he often refers to the party as Sinn Féin–IRA.

“Let's be honest about this,” he says. “If Sinn Féin doesn't represent the IRA they're not worth talking to. If they do represent the IRA then the question arises, ‘Should we talk to them?'” For Ross, before Sinn Féin can be considered a normal political party they must show remorse for the violence, confirm that remorse by indicating a willingness to surrender weapons, and stop the punishment beatings and other violence.

“But essentially, that's turning Sinn Féin into the SDLP,” he says.

He likens the IRA to a spoiled child, albeit a spoiled child with Semtex and Armalites.

“The IRA has to move into the world of reality; they are living in a dream world. Certainly you don't encourage them to move into a world of reality by giving them what they want,” he says. “All you do is make the thing worse. I mean, you don't encourage a child to move into the world of reality by giving it sweets every time that it cries.

“And that's exactly the same with terrorist organisations,” he says. “If what they're coming up with is not really saleable to the vast majority of the population, then I don't think you should give them things which make them believe they're getting closer to their ultimate goal.”

He would not have visited loyalist prisoners in the Maze either, as Ulster Unionist party leader David Trimble did early this year.

“The [Ulster] Unionist Party has its own views. If they want to learn those views they can read them in the paper,” Ross says. He said that if one of his constituents was being held in the Maze, then he could see the point of a visit. But people who are not constituents, who are part of a paramilitary force, have their own spokesman. “I'm not prepared to talk to armed paramilitary organizations.”

The situation in Northern Ireland is akin in many ways to that in Israel, “where the opponents of Israel are opposed to the very existence of the state.

“It's not a question of fairness or whether it is run the right way or the wrong way or how the money is spent or where it's spent. It is whether you are in the United Kingdom or out of it,” he says.

Like Israel surrounded by potential enemies, Ross feels the sense of siege. He entered politics in the early 1970s because “my country was under attack.” He does not recall what first drew him to the field; neither his father nor grandfather followed in his great-grandfather's work. But Willie Ross had always been interested.

He comes from a line of farmers, police officers and teachers. Before running for parliament he reared beef cattle and sheep and grew seed potatoes and barley on his farm in Dungiven, a largely Catholic village about 18 miles from Derry City.

But the 140-acre farm is all rented now, and the “livestock” that occupy Ross's time are the peacocks, including one of pure white, peahens, guinea fowl, and the vivid golden pheasant kept in a large pen behind the house because “my wife likes fancy fowl, you see.”

Ross entered politics in the early 1970s with a term on Limavady District Council. Then he served as a party worker for elections in 1973, a job that took him all over the county. When Sir Robert Chichester-Clark MP resigned from the Londonderry seat, Ross was approached to put his name in the hat.

He was elected in February 1974, a close result that was confirmed with a second victory in October of the same year, when Ross defeated SDLP candidate John Hume, among others.

“I'm the only man who ever beat Hume in an election,” Ross says. He pointedly refuses further comment on the SDLP leader.

During his work on that 1973 election, Ross not only found a new career but also met Christine Haslett; they have now been married for 24 years. He says his wife and their three grown sons and daughter, who often went on the campaign trail with him, have contributed a great deal to his electoral success.

“A family man has a certain cachet with people,” he says. “This is still a fairly conservative society right across the board. Families always help candidates.”
In the years since, Ross has won re-election with almost monotonous regularity, including the 1986 by-elections when all fifteen unionist MPs resigned in opposition to the Anglo-Irish Agreement. He was already winning by comfortable margins when, in 1983, parts of the potentially troublesome Derry City were moved from East Londonderry into the newly created Foyle seat. Ross has practically galloped to victory in the elections since then.

There was one hiccup in an otherwise unbroken string of wins. Ross was a challenger for the party leadership in 1995, after the resignation of James Molyneaux. But that prize went to Trimble.

“Drumcree, my dear,” Ross offers by way of explanation. He believes Trimble's performance during those heated days in 1995 was key to his success.

The party voters' perception at the time “was that this David Trimble was a man of ability and very strong unionist principles, and that he had demonstrated a capacity to take clear, decisive action and to stand up to republican enemies, and I think that people voted for that,” Ross says. “I think it was Drumcree, more than anything else, that threw him into prominence.”

Ross believes also that his own close association with Molyneaux didn't help, in the wake of a backlash against the former party head. He keeps a framed photo of Molyneaux on a wall in his office. Molyneaux, Ross says, “at least, crossed the beaches in the Normandy landings, something that none of his detractors could say.”

In recent months Ross has appeared in the press more than once criticizing his party's policies with darts aimed principally at the talks. Ross and three other Ulster Unionist MPs sent a letter to party leadership in December, voicing their opposition to the process. Ross simply does not believe the talks can lead to solutions that unionists will find acceptable.

“We'll see within a few weeks who was right,” he says. Ross sees a lot of ways the talks could go wrong. He believes, for example, that there is a “quite high level of probability” that the talks will generate no agreement. But even if there is an agreement that voters approve, he points out that the parties involved could be voted out of leadership in the next election, defeated by those who opposed the agreement. Or if they don't win the first time around they could win in a later race.

“Then where are they?” he asks. “I mean, that's a nightmare scenario. A highly probable one.”

Beyond that, he questions some of the proposals on the table. He is unimpressed with talk of a cross-border body because “nobody can actually tell me where you need such a body. If such a body is not actually needed, then it is quite obviously not created out of need but for some other ulterior motive.” That motive, he believes, is to detach in some measure Northern Ireland from the rest of the United Kingdom.

The concept popularly known as “power sharing” has not been spelled out clearly enough for Ross, either. If there is to be some form of devolved assembly, for instance, how will splits along party lines be accommodated to encourage a strong and healthy opposition without obstructing the process?

“I think there are a lot of fundamental issues about human nature and the nature of government here that are not properly understood, or not properly explored, or, far more likely, deliberately hidden in an effort to get a fudged agreement,” Ross says.

And he dismisses the proposal to remove Ireland's territorial claim over the North through constitutional change, saying, “I don't see why the United Kingdom should get a legal declaration for what we believe to be an illegal claim.”

Well, what would Ross offer nationalists during these talks? He says his experience with the nationalist population tells him that they are glad to live in the United Kingdom as long as they are fairly treated. And they are treated fairly, he maintains. Ross believes republican politicians perpetuate the belief that the nationalist population is mistreated.

“Who in the mining community ever said the miners were treated fairly in South Wales?” he asks. “It's not in the political interest of those who represent that point of view to say that everything is lovely and you're doing very well, thank you. They are bound to
be claiming things are wrong.”

Further, he believes it was a mistake for Ireland to leave the United Kingdom at all. “If it was not, people wouldn't have to emigrate by the millions.” And the economic problems that led to much of the emigration were of Ireland's own doing, he maintains. “Why should Britain be to blame for all their failures?”

“If it takes 80 years to get on your feet, you must wonder if it was worth it,” he says.

He denies strongly that his criticisms of the talks process are directed at Trimble; he is commenting on party policy. He calls the Ulster Unionist leader a highly intelligent man who will lead the party as long as he likes, unless “he makes a lot of errors of judgement that are seen clearly as errors of judgement.” But that's always the lot of party leaders, whether it's Trimble, or John Major, or Margaret Thatcher.

“And, of course, there is always the temptation to do something exceedingly risky because the apparent rewards are very great,” he says. “And if you lose, God help you. If you win, you're a great fellow. And sometimes apparent victories are not necessarily victories in the long run. Sometimes they're Pyrrhic victories.

“What was it Enoch said? All political careers end in failure. I think I would modify that by saying all major political careers end in failure because sooner or later you make a mistake,” Ross says. That's Enoch Powell he's talking about. Ross looked up to the recently deceased Conservative-turned-Ulster Unionist. Of Powell's critics, Ross says, “If you don't make enemies in politics you haven't been doing your job.”

Ross's job takes him to the House of Commons in London on a weekly basis during the term. “You spend nine hours a week just travelling from A to B, and that's a whole working day, my dear,” he says.

His schedule varies, but he is usually in the Commons three days a week, flying out Monday afternoon and returning to Dungiven on Thursday evening. He serves on several committees and is the party's spokesman for treasury and civil service.

Ross's district office, open Monday to Friday, sits behind his house with a staff of two. “You can have two or three months and there's practically nobody, and then there's some day there are a dozen standing at the door waiting for you when you arrive.”
Sometimes, as he did in March in Limavady, he holds an open meeting for constituents and their concerns—all the local minutiae one would expect: housing, parking, legal questions.

That Limavady meeting was on a Monday. The next day he left for London for committee meetings and the national minimum-wage bill. Wednesday saw Northern Ireland questions in the Commons as well as bills on school standards and wireless telegraphy.
The European Parliament elections bill came up Thursday, and more on fox hunting on Friday. He was also hosting the annual Ulster Society dinner that night. He didn't expect to make it back to Dungiven until the weekend.

“If you could live over there it would be much easier, of course, but we all chose to live in our constituencies,” he says. There is always that need for balance between local constituent issues and the broader demands of the job.

Not surprisingly, history is important to Ross. For another analogy to the Northern Ireland situation he points to Tyrol, where Italy held its claim over the province and its German-speaking minority population. “Folks in Italy didn't go along with nonsense,” he explains. “They simply said, ‘Look, we're sorry you find yourself within the boundaries of this nation, and within the boundaries of this nation you are going to stay'.” The powers granted the German-speaking population were granted within this context, he points out.

In contrast, Ross believes the Anglo-Irish Agreement, the Downing Street Declaration, and the Framework Document constitute an attack on the constitutional position of Northern Ireland.

“They indicate as well that the United Kingdom government is not defending the unity of the kingdom,” he says. He questions how the government of a democratic state can tell a people that they can remain within the boundaries of the nation as long as the people living there desire it.

“Can you imagine a situation if California or Texas was overrun by folk of Spanish descent who then determined that they wanted to go back to being part of Mexico?” he asks, eyes wide. “What would the United States say?”

The United Kingdom, in his opinion, does not seem to address the issue with the same gravity. Tony Blair, though very sharp and clever, is in too much of a rush.

“Whereas Major was taking it very slowly, very steadily, inch by inch, this man wants to sprint,” Ross says. “He sprinted, you see, on the Scottish and Welsh referendums. They got them over and done with within weeks.” Ross believes that if the Welsh vote took place today, the measure probably would fail. “I don't think that constitutional change is something that should be rushed.”

Ross is not satisfied with the prime minister's assurances that he supports the continued presence of Northern Ireland within the United Kingdom. “If he really believes in the union he should have set out in much clearer and starker terms, much more detailed terms, where the limits of devolution are for Northern Ireland,” Ross says.

That's the thing. Limits. As the parties continue to talk in Dublin, London, Washington and Stormont, unionists want to know where the British government will draw its line in the sand. People are getting edgy; loyalist violence itself stems from fear of constitutional change, he says.

“Something people missed at the first and second Drumcree was the radicalization of the Protestant community,” he says. “I often think Sinn Féin–IRA read the Protestant community completely wrong. They quite clearly thought all they had to do for a long time was beat the Brits and they'd go home.” But now comes “the awful, dawning realization” that the people “consider themselves Brits, too.”

A result of this growing radicalisation has been “an increasing distrust of everybody. General cynicism has grown enormously.” For himself, Ross says, “I never was a very trusting creature anyway. If a guy makes a fool out of me once it's his fault. If he does it twice, it's my fault.”

He says he likes Mo Mowlam and doesn't question her brains, but he does question her judgement and common sense. She's “well intentioned. You know what they say about the road to hell. I'll leave it at that.” He called for her resignation after LVF leader Billy Wright was killed in the Maze prison, an incident he calls “absolutely appalling.”

So, if talks begin with the premise that Northern Ireland will remain within the United Kingdom, and if there is little chance for agreement between unionists and nationalists on this central issue, where does that leave things?

“Bloody sticky. Maybe.

“You see, if you come up with a system which is going to erode the union, a lot of people are going to be cross about it. There are going to be a lot of other people very much encouraged by it,” he says. “You've doubled the hope and you've doubled the resentment. That is not good in a volatile, violent situation.”