Dean Godson - Himself Alone - David Trimble and the Ordeal Of Unionism

Ulster – A Nation concluded with a ringing appeal for Ulster to redefine her relationship with the rest of the United Kingdom. It posited the idea of a federated British Isles comprising Great Britain, Ulster and Eire, with three separate but equal regions cooperating to promote common prosperity. These ideas were fleshed out in Community of the British Isles which exerted an even greater impact upon Trimble’s thinking. Great Britain would ‘throw off the trammels of the residual sovereignty’ that she exercises as a legacy of her colonial past and thus free herself of any guilt or international embarrassments which that legacy has caused her. More significant still, this would have profound implications for the Roman Catholic minority: ‘The absence of British sovereignty would remove one of the causes of friction and help confront both communities [within Northern Ireland] with the realities of the situation.’ Trimble was impressed both by its emphasis on taking account of the existence of the nationalist community, which would not go away, and by the possibility of creating new structures that could accommodate everyone’s diverse aspirations without surrendering to Irish nationalism. Indeed, the approach outlined in Community of the British Isles would eventually find expression in the British-Irish Council, established under the 1998 Belfast Agreement.

Again, such speculations seemed fanciful at the time. For Unionists were then enmeshed in debating the merits of Heath’s attempt to outline the principles governing new political structures for Ulster. The Government White Paper of March 1973 aimed to provide something for everyone (and was the basis of the Sunningdale agreement of December of that year). For Unionists, it contained the guarantee that Northern Ireland’s overall constitutional status would not be changed save with the consent of the Province’s majority. Also, the bulk of Stormont’s functions would be returned to local control (with the exception of security). But Unionists could only regain their parliament at the price of accepting nationalists in the Government of Northern Ireland for the first time. Nationalists would derive further reassurance from the establishment of an ‘Irish dimension’ – North – South bodies which could someday prove to be vehicles for harmonising the institutions of government on both sides of the border into all-Ireland structures. Faulkner accepted the White Paper and received the endorsement of his party’s supreme body, the Ulster Unionist Council, by 381 to 231. 36

Many hardline Unionists had been toying with the idea of creating a new party to oppose the drift of policy, but they had always been deterred from so doing by the feeling that they would have more influence by staying within the existing party structures. The vote to accept the White Paper proposals convinced them that they no longer could prevent such slippage. Craig and his supporters left to form the Vanguard Unionist Progressive Party: the word ‘Progressive’ was included to appeal to the substantial trade union element in Vanguard, led by such men as Billy Hull (formerly of the Loyalist Association of Workers) and Glenn Barr, a shop steward and senior figure in the UDA. Although opposed to the new system, Vanguard nonetheless contested the June 1973 Assembly elections. Trimble was uncertain about whether to stand, but in the end decided to do so. There were several reasons for this. First, he thought if he remained an academic, people would not respect him; he would, therefore, have to ‘get his hands dirty’ in the political arena. But there was another reason, which would continue to motivate him in the coming years. ‘The Loyalist parties were getting a very negative press then,’ he recalls. ‘But I thought “well, it will make the media and the middle classes sit up and think if they find that not all of the Loyalist candidates are ignorant working-class types”.’ 37 He put his name forward for the Vanguard nomination in North Down and found himself alphabetically on the bottom of the three-man slate headed by George Green. The North Down Vanguard literature had a cartoon of the master (William Whitelaw, first Northern Ireland Secretary) tossing a bone to his lap-dog (Faulkner). And it proclaimed: ‘Vanguard Unionists will not accept a humiliating, powerless, consultative Assembly in place of a proper Parliament … they will not allow murderers and quislings to destroy Ulster and hand it over to Republicans.’

Trimble’s first serious outing on the hustings was, however, disastrous: during the abortive Loyalist strike of February 1973 which Vanguard had supported, a fireman had been killed by Protestant hoodlums. Trimble received a bitter reception in many quarters – ‘it was guilt by association’ he recalls – and came bottom out of eighteen candidates. 38 Vanguard took 10.5% of first preference votes for seven seats. Faulkner’s group, with 24 seats, was nominally the largest. In conjunction with other pro-White Paper elements (including the SDLP, Alliance and Northern Ireland Labour parties) the group held 52 seats to 26 for the broad loyalist coalition. The reality, though, was more complex. Some of those who were officially within the Faulknerite camp in fact opposed his policy. The real picture was, therefore, 21 for Faulkner to 27 against him: enough to push policies through with the help of the SDLP and others, but crucially depriving him of a majority and therefore legitimacy within the Unionist community. 39

Despite Trimble’s terrible showing, the campaign was not a waste of time. While on the hustings, he met Craig for the first time. Trimble felt an immediate sense of personal as well as ideological kinship: he always was able to anticipate what Craig was thinking. ‘Craig had a penchant for surrounding himself with bright young men,’ says Trimble. ‘David Burnside, Reg Empey and myself have lasted the course. There was a sense with Craig of open-mindedness not associated with the “good old boy” network of Glengall Street. Unlike the others, if he discovered talent he would use it.’ 40 Many of these Young Unionists had been locked out of Glengall Street – in Empey’s case literally – after the split with Faulkner. Craig also cultivated another young hardline politician, John Taylor, who in the previous year had survived an assassination attempt by the Official IRA; but Taylor never made the leap. Trimble first met Taylor in Bangor in 1973 and liked him instinctively. ‘He was a person who was entitled to respect. After coming within an inch of losing his life, he was still involved and not in any way intimidated.’ 41

Some felt that Trimble could be a little bit of a ‘boffin’ – but they also deferred to him on that basis. Isobel McCulloch, who was Craig’s secretary, remembers that when Trimble referred to some legal concept by its Latin name, one of the less well-read figures in Vanguard piped up: ‘Say that again, David – this time in English!’ 42 The whole room, including Trimble, broke up laughing. But for the most part, observes Craig, ‘he fitted in very comfortably. He became accustomed to talking with people. Events brought him out of his shell.’ Craig found Trimble an ideal sounding board for fleshing out his existing ideas: this is significant since many suppose that Craig only extolled the Aland Islands – a semi-autonomous part of Sweden – as a potential model for Ulster because of Trimble’s research. In fact, it was Craig who introduced Trimble to many of these concepts, as Trimble readily acknowledges. 43 Trimble was also introduced to the darker side of Loyalism in this period – including Andy Tyrie, the then Supreme Commander of the UDA. Tyrie found that Trimble was quite unlike any of the traditional Unionists of the ‘fur coat brigade’. Not only was he ‘great in committees, great working with people, but he had a quality I would have loved to have had – he was a good listener. Above all, he stayed with the people. Harry West [the Ulster Unionist leader] had no use for us once the crisis that had brought us together was over. David, though, always was available – even when he did not approve of what we were doing. He would say “look, this type of violence is totally counter-productive from your point of view”.’ Tyrie noted with appreciation that unlike most middle-class people, Trimble was prepared to fight, though he claims that he never asked him to join up. ‘I would certainly have been very glad of him,’ Tyrie adds. 44 Some time later, Tyrie invited Trimble to attend meetings of the UDA’s Inner Council – an offer which Trimble declined, though he said he would be happy enough to draft papers. He refused because he believed that his talents lay in the realm of politics. When asked if he would have joined up to give the UDA political direction, Trimble replies, ‘wasn’t that what Vanguard was [already] doing?’ 45 Whatever Vanguard’s relationship to the UDA, there is no doubt that Tyrie trusted Trimble utterly at a political level. But did their closeness to each other make Trimble vulnerable to British state pressure years down the road? Trimble is unequivocal on the subject. ‘There never was an effort by anybody – whether British or anyone else – to make capital out of my associations of the early 1970s. Which is surprising.’ 46