Farcical high court decision backs PSNI farce
Posted by Jim on October 27, 2018
By Chris Bray (Boston College Subpoena News)
I am now convinced that the Police Service of Northern Ireland is an
elaborate prank, a kind of brilliantly large-scale Candid Camera — and
the courts are totally on on the joke.
Let’s start with some background. Feel free to skip to the heading
WOODSHOP FELONY below if you’ve been following the Belfast Project
subpoenas closely (you poor bastard) and don’t need to go through the
whole farce again.
In 2011, investigating a 1972 murder that they had ignored for
thirty-nine years, the Police Service of Northern Ireland went shopping
for unearned confessions in a historical archive in the United States.
The subpoenas served on Boston College were, the claim went, desperately
necessary, investigative tools scratching away the truth behind the most
serious of crimes: the kidnapping, murder, and secret burial of a
widowed mother of ten children, Jean McConville, killed by the
Provisional IRA as a suspected informer in the employ of the British
army in Belfast.
Locked away in a university library, the Belfast Project tapes
supposedly held the answers; consisting of frank oral history interviews
with former members of paramilitary organizations, they would allow the
authorities to bring a set of killers to justice. The headlines said so,
plainly and uncritically. “Tapes Hold N. Ireland Murder Secrets,” CNN
reported. It was all pretty simple: Get the tapes, press the “play”
button, make some arrests.
The police got the tapes they sought, but it doesn’t appear that the
police got their Northern Ireland murder secrets. More than seven years
later, no one has ever been brought to trial over McConville’s murder,
or on any other crime supposedly exposed by the tapes. One elderly man,
allegedly a former Provisional IRA member of high rank, was charged more
than four years ago with crimes related to the killing, but his case has
become the Jarndyce v. Jarndyce of the criminal courts — forever subject
to status conferences, forever unresolved.
Following another, later subpoena, another set of charges were brought
against another elderly man alleged to have once been a ranking member
of a Loyalist paramilitary organization. Those charges have also gone
Full Kafka, forever wandering the hallways of the courts of Northern
Ireland and rattling their chains. One day the sun will implode, our
solar system will vanish into a black hole, and the charges brought on
the basis of the Belfast Project tapes will finally meet their
resolution.
WOODSHOP FELONY
But now the farce of the Belfast Project tapes has become something else
altogether, the word for which probably hasn’t been coined, yet. We’ll
need a neologism that combines the ideas of raw sewage, things of
microscopic importance, and pure farce. (This would be easier if we all
spoke German.)
In 2014, circling back to a source that had brought them no form of
success in court at all, law enforcement authorities in Northern Ireland
asked the U.S. Department of Justice to promulgate a new Belfast Project
subpoena. This time, the PSNI was seeking the recorded interviews
archived at Boston College in which a Belfast Project researcher,
Anthony McIntyre (a former Long Kesh prisoner who has a PhD in history),
is said to have discussed his own role in the Provisional IRA.
Federal authorities in Boston got McIntyre’s interview materials, and
the DOJ sent them off to Belfast. But McIntyre went to court to stop the
police from reading the transcripts or listening to the tapes. This
week, the High Court in Belfast issued a decision in McIntyre’s legal
challenge, which they heard almost a year ago.
The decision is, God help us all, comic opera. It makes the farcical
nature of the whole production abundantly clear, while attempting to
manage the discussion within the boundaries of language that declares
that this is terribly serious judicial business. I have a draft copy,
not yet signed by the court, and the court has posted a summary of the
decision here (link opens to PDF file). I’ll stick to discussing the
publicly available summary until the whole decision becomes public.
Now, remember that this all began, seven years ago, with a great deal of
somber tut-tutting about the seriousness of the Belfast Project
subpoenas, and the urgent work of the PSNI as it raced down the trail
after some murderers. So take a look at the summary posted by the court,
which describes the matters now being investigated by the PSNI with
regard to Anthony McIntyre:
“On 3 September 2014 the PSNI requested that the Public Prosecution
Service (‘PPS’) issue an International Letter of Request (‘ILOR’) in
respect of a criminal investigation it was carrying out into the
following matters:
[….]
The detection in 1978 in the applicant’s possession of an imitation
firearm while in custody in circumstances suggesting that he may be
planning an escape from custody. The applicant states that this is a
reference to an incomplete wooden gun in two parts which was found in a
search cubicle in prison reception. He was questioned at the time of its
discovery but not charged with any offence.”
Note that this sentence about events in the 1970s begins with “the
detection,” at the time, of the thing being discussed. So in 1978,
prison officials caught Anthony McIntyre with some pieces of wood, which
they suspected, probably for good reason, that he was planning to turn
into a fake gun so he could bluff his way out of prison. They questioned
him about it but decided not to charge him with a crime. Thirty-six
years later, the PSNI decided to conduct an investigation to determine
if Anthony McIntyre had possessed some pieces of wood that could be
turned into a fake gun for use in an attempt at a prison escape, and
they went through the complex and difficult process of obtaining
international legal assistance to subpoena interview materials archived
in another country.
The reason the PSNI suspected that Anthony McIntyre had once possessed
wooden materials that could be used to make a fake gun was that, nearly
four decades ago, prison officials in Northern Ireland caught Anthony
McIntyre in possession of wooden materials that could be used to make a
fake gun.
We suspect this man of Crime X because forty years ago he was caught
committing it, so now we need to find out if he committed the crime that
we know about because we know he was caught committing it.
Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, ladies and gentlemen.
The PSNI used the Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty between the United
Kingdom and the United States in an attempt to find out if Anthony
McIntyre hid some wood in his socks forty years ago, a thing they
already knew he did.
But let’s keep going, and take a look at the other things the PSNI
supposedly set out to investigate by digging into McIntyre’s Belfast
Project tapes. Like this:
“Membership of an illegal organisation.”
Goodness yes: Let’s use international legal assistance to conduct an
investigation to find out if Anthony McIntyre was ever a member of the
Provisional IRA, more than forty years after the time he was actually
convicted on that charge. McIntyre’s own website, by the way, has a
review of his book on Irish republicanism, which describes McIntyre as
“a historian, a former member of the IRA and a onetime party activist
with extensive contacts in the organisation.” It took me five seconds on
Google to come up with that one — but I don’t have the option of asking
the Department of Justice to issue subpoenas on my behalf, so I was
forced to fall back on other means.
Finally, the PSNI suspects that McIntyre carried out a bombing, with a
few problems:
“A bomb attack on a house at Rugby Avenue on 6 February 1976. The PSNI
claimed to have received information on that date the applicant was
involved in the bomb attack. The applicant, however, maintains that he
was in fact the target of the attack and that in any event if the attack
was on the date alleged he was in police custody throughout that day.”
More about the Rugby Avenue bomb later, when the full decision is
available, but alleging in an international letter of assistance that
McIntyre bombed somebody’s house on a day when he was in police custody
is an interesting choice.
Analyzing the international letter of assistance — the letter the PSNI
asked Northern Ireland’s Public Prosecution Service to prepare in order
to ask American law enforcement officials for help — the High Court
acknowledges in its decision that the police and prosecutors made a hash
of the whole thing. From the summary released by the court, and take a
moment to read this carefully:
“There were a number of errors in the ILOR including reference to the
incorrect date of birth of the applicant, the incorrect section of
legislation in respect of an offence, an assertion that the applicant
had been convicted of armed robbery in 1975 and sentenced to a period of
imprisonment of three years when in fact there was no evidence to
support that assertion and an incorrect date of Judicial conviction for
the offence of membership of a proscribed organisation.”
So the police set out to investigate whether Anthony McIntyre once
possessed some wood that they suspect he possessed because they know he
possessed it, and also set out to learn if a convicted IRA member had
ever been in the IRA, and also set out to determine if he blew up
somebody’s house on a date when he was locked up in the police station,
and when they wrote the letter outlining their investigation, they got
most of the supporting facts totally wrong.
These two conclusions come one after the other in the summary of the
decision posted on the court website:
* The errors in the ILOR were due to a distinct and surprising lack of
care on the part of the PSNI and the PPS;
* The errors in the ILOR were not indicative of bad faith.
Got that? They f*cked up everything they touched, which we’re pretty
sure proves that they were trying to be careful and do a good job.
More to come.