The NS Interview: Martin McGuinness

“As a former IRA man, I accept all the responsibilities that are due to me”

Will the recent breakthrough have the historic significance of the Good Friday Agreement?
The Good Friday Agreement was an incredible breakthrough. But it's my view that the Hillsborough Agreement could see politics in the north come of age, and see us all move forwards on the basis of equality and partnership.

To what extent has your own thinkingchanged over the decades?
I'm still an Irish republican; I absolutely believe in Irish unity and am working to achieve that. But over the course of 15 years or more, people like myself and others have been working to end the vicious cycle of conflict.

The latest polls say you are poised to become first minister. What would that mean to you?
Others are more fixated on that than I am. I am basically content doing the job I am doing at the moment. I want to work with Peter Robinson as First Minister in a positive, constructive way, and leave the elections to the electorate.

Since forming your alliance, how has your view of Ian Paisley and his values changed?
Obviously Ian Paisley and I were regarded as very bitter opponents. When we decided in March 2007 to govern together, both of us understood that we weren't going to change our views, but that we had to work with one another if we were to end the conflict and move forward. It was pretty amazing we were able to strike up the relationship that we did. But I value it, and I regard Ian Paisley as a friend.

Do you think IRA terrorism on the mainland damaged the cause of a united Ireland?
War is terrible. There is nothing romantic about war. But the community I come from believes it has in effect been discriminated against. I come from Derry where, before the IRA fired a gunshot, Samuel Devenny was beaten to death by members of the Royal Ulster Constabulary, and Seamus Cusack and Desmond Beattie were shot dead by the Royal Anglian Regiment. Sometimes it's like the blame for the conflict rests only at the door of Irish republicans - whereas I believe it rests at 10 Downing Street and the offices of unionist parties in the north.

Would a Tory government threaten your cause?
Well, I've met with Owen Paterson [the Conservative shadow Northern Ireland secretary] and David Cameron, and they made it clear that they are prepared to stand faithfully by the agreements that have been made. Being involved constructively in the north of Ireland is a steep learning curve. I hope whatever government is elected will come at this as positively as Labour did in recent times.

Will there be a united Ireland in your lifetime?
Well, I'm working to achieve that. I believe that the agreements we have made allow us to go forward - and I'm quoting Ian Paisley - to bring to an end the old hatreds and divisions that have been so much to our detriment.

How does your faith affect your politics?
It doesn't affect my politics at all. We have to govern by treating every single citizen equally.

So you believe Protestants are just as faithful as Catholics are?

How do you deal with receiving death threats?
I never let it weigh me down. I have a job to do. Overwhelmingly, the people of Ireland support the peace process. There are unionists who have tried to bring it down; there are people associated with small, unrepresentative armed groups on the republican side who are also trying to destroy it. I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that they don't succeed.

Do you ever fear for your family's safety?
No. If these people take action, I presume they will take it against me. But I'm not going to let that put me off doing the work that I am doing.

Have you ever killed a man?
I made my statement to the Bloody Sunday tribunal, where I admitted that I was a member of the IRA in Derry during a very difficult period of our history. As a former member of the IRA, I accept all the responsibilities that are due to me. But in terms of the individual circumstances, I don't comment on that.

What do you regret?
I regret the bitter conflict on the island of Ireland, and that many people lost their lives. I absolutely regret that the body politic failed those people, and that a blind eye was turned by successive governments in London - and by some in Dublin - to the plight of nationalists.

Is there, or was there, a plan?
The planet we live on is an extraordinary place; scientists tell us we're unique in terms of the universe. I wonder about how we have arrived here, and who was responsible for that.

Are we all doomed?
I don't believe we're doomed at all. Here in Ireland we've seen extraordinary circumstances. We are looking forward to a bright future.

The London Irish Unity Conference, with speakers including Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness, will be held on 20 February at TUC Congress House, London.

James Macintyre is political correspondent for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 February 2010 issue of the New Statesman, IRAN

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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State