Republican News · Thursday 3 July 2003

HOPE IN A 'COLD HOUSE'

Legitimising the respective combatants through their own views is very important, although the politics of the play are clearly republican

Truth, telling it as it was, and the human consequences of war are prominent themes running through Dubbeljoint's latest play, 'A Cold House', from the prolific duo Laurence McKeown and Brian Campbell.

Both men are former political prisoners and now have an impressive CV of books, plays and a film to their credit. The title of the latest outing was a phrase used by David Trimble in his acceptance speech in Oslo for the Nobel Peace Prize. It is of a similar high standard to their previous works.

For both writers, Dubbeljoint and the audience, the play breaks new ground. Part of the research for the play involved the authors speaking to former members of the RUC. Their voices and attitudes are reflected throughout the hour-long play. If we take what is said on their behalf by the actor who plays former RUC man David, then we are offered a valuable insight into that force at a time of great change for them.

The attitudes expressed give an insight into the mentality of what could be described as a distinct 'constituency', ie. RUC personnel and their immediate families.

The play is set in the kitchen of the former RUC man's home. He has recently retired from the force after 30 years and is having difficulty settling into his retirement.

His family is grown up. He feels rootless and pacing the kitchen floor tells his wife Helen he wants to get away from the place and the 'suffocation', away from the place and 'everything about it'. She responds to his anxiety on the basis that his problem is adjusting to retirement and that he needs to give himself more time to 'settle'.

However, the real reason for his restlessness is revealed when he lashes out at her comforting words 'settle, settle... terrorists in government... I can go nowhere... I have to look under my car.'

But it is the 'terrorists in government' that is fuelling his rage. He doesn't say it but the hidden text, which is driving him to flee, is his sense of being betrayed by the British government.

His law and order mentality, his unionism and all that came with it, leaves him ill-equipped to deal with the political changes heralded by the IRA's cessation.

The only solution he sees after surviving the threat of the IRA for 30 years is to get out - to walk away from his children, who are now having children of their own - to leave lifelong friends in the hope that him and his wife 'beginning again' will find new friends.

In his desperation, he uncaringly steamrolls over his wife's opposition. She wants to enjoy her adult children, to face the new challenges and opportunities brought by the ceasefires, no matter how difficult they are.

He symbolises the attitude of many unionists, who couldn't come to terms with the new situation resulting from the IRA and loyalist cessations.

But it is the confrontation between Peter the plumber, who arrives to fix their broken heating system, and the former RUC man and his wife which provides the thought provoking and at times passionate drama.

This scene which dominates the play is written and presented cleverly. Both men, David the former RUC man and Peter the former IRA man, are left on their own in the kitchen while Peter tries to repair the broken boiler, a metaphor for the Six Counties, using a range of devices to probe into each other's backgrounds.

They circle around each other, shadow box, tease, lie about their real lives, common and familiar ruses that people have been using long before the conflict broke out to avoid difficult personal and political situations.

The RUC man draws off his skills as a trained interrogator to peel back Peter's past, while Peter draws off his IRA instincts to keep his past secret.

Peter's 15 years in the H-Blocks of Long Kesh become 15 years 'working in London', yet he can't answer simple questions about the city directly. David has spent a lifetime in the insurance business, yet he can't answer a basic question, why car insurance is high.

Peter tells David his son's name is 'Pearse'. The name confirms the suspicion in his mind about Peter. With a name like that he must be a republican. He acts on foot of his suspicions when Peter leaves the room. He calls his RUC pals in the local barracks and asks them to run a 'security check' on Peter. He gets the result he was looking for: Peter is a 'terrorist' who served a life sentence for killing a member of the RUC, who was a friend of David and Helen's.

The ease with which Peter's 'classified' personal details are handed over brings to mind the issue of collusion. It also reminded me of an incident in Crumlin Road gaol when I was there in 1976. A loyalist prisoner was in the cell next door to me. One night before lock-up I heard the flap on his cell door being opened by a warder.

The warder shouted into him: "Your Ma couldn't make it up today. She left your parcel in my house. I put it in the parcel office. You can get it at tea time."

I was shocked by the friendliness of this exchange and although benign in itself, it was this type of relationship that formed, in part, the basis on which collusion was built, between loyalists and the Crown forces.

What I found very useful about the confrontational scene is that neither man apologises for what they did during the conflict, because both believe that what they did was right. And equally importantly, if the circumstances were the same they would do it again.

Peter expresses sorrow at the impact on the family of the RUC man he killed, but not remorse.

Legitimising the respective combatants through their own views is very important, although the politics of the play are clearly republican.

A genuine process of conflict resolution should not make moral judgements on those who participated in the conflict. It is, of course, acceptable to make judgements on the outcome of their actions but not their motivation.

There were many issues dealt with but two are memorable.

Helen's description of the consequences for the family of the dead RUC man, and her appeal for help for those who lived through the struggle and survived: 'How do we, our generation, how do we move forward?'

The last scene in the play jars with what comes before it, mainly because there is little preparation for the mood switch on the stage.

Some might argue that it lacks credibility and is contradictory, others that it provides hope for the future. I'll go with all three, because that has been my experience over the last ten years, but make up your own mind. Don't miss the play if it arrives in your town.

BY JIM GIBNEY

The play's first series of performances has just ended but a second tour is planned for September