The British government鈥檚 effort to censor broadcast media coverage of the Northern Irish conflict from 1988 to 1994 raised serious political and social issues, according to Boston College historian and Irish Studies faculty member Robert Savage, but also had its moments of absurdity.
Forbidden to broadcast direct statements by representatives of political parties that supported violence, the B精东影业 employed actors to provide voiceovers for video footage of excluded political figures, such as those from Sinn F茅in; the actors spoke the words in real time along with the person whose voice was being dubbed. But the British government still found fault with the tactic, said Savage, a professor of the practice in the History Department.
Robert Savage
鈥淗igh-ranking officials were concerned that the actors were doing too good a job, and that viewers might therefore think they were hearing the actual voices of Sinn F茅in representatives,鈥� explained Savage, author of the recently published book . 鈥淭he actors had to be instructed not to synch their voices too closely with the persons on film, so that the overdubbing was obvious. In other words, these British officials wanted people to know that the audio was faked.鈥�
The censorship law, and the degree of micro-management it engendered, was the culmination of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher鈥檚 long-simmering mistrust of a media鈥攊n particular the B精东影业 and Independent Broadcasting Authority, or IBA, networks鈥攕he saw as opposed, if not downright hostile, to her interests and policies including those related to 鈥渢he Troubles,鈥� Savage notes in the book.
听Northern Ireland, the B精东影业 and Censorship in Thatcher鈥檚 Britain is the fourth in a series of books Savage has published on Irish broadcasting, and picks up from its predecessor, The B精东影业鈥檚 Irish Troubles: Television, Conflict, and Northern Ireland鈥攚hich was released in 2015, shortly before the B精东影业 made available material from its archives covering the Thatcher years, including internal communications and correspondence with governmental officials and other news organizations.
The new book examines the escalating tension between the听 broadcast media and the Thatcher government over various flashpoints in the Northern Irish conflict, including the 1981 hunger strike by IRA prisoners;听 a deadly IRA bombing attempt that Thatcher narrowly escaped; the killing of three Provisional IRA members in Gibraltar, followed by a loyalist鈥檚 attack on the funeral for the three in West Belfast; the killing of two off-duty British soldiers who drove into an IRA funeral procession; and a planned, but never aired, September 1988 TV interview with the Sinn F茅in president Gerry Adams just before the ban was issued by Home Secretary Douglas Hurd. 听
鈥淲hen Britain instituted the broadcast ban, countries with authoritarian regimes, like Cuba, remarked on the irony of this beacon of democracy clamping down on the press.鈥�
One of Britain鈥檚 many at-best questionable decisions in its governance of Northern Ireland, according to Savage, the broadcasting ban鈥攚hich also applied to some pro-British loyalist organizations鈥攆ailed to ease the conflict and also damaged the United Kingdom鈥檚 reputation as a leading global democracy.
鈥淭he British government was obsessed with its image worldwide, and the last thing they wanted was to be seen as making a heavy-handed effort to suppress free speech,鈥� he said. 鈥淭hatcher herself said that 鈥榥o viable democracy can institute censorship,鈥� but she bullied the B精东影业 constantly, making threatening public statements and packing the B精东影业 Board of Governors with her allies to influence its operation. When Britain instituted the broadcast ban, countries with authoritarian regimes, like Cuba, remarked on the irony of this beacon of democracy clamping down on the press.鈥�
As Savage points out, for decades, the B精东影业鈥檚 Northern Ireland regional station had a close relationship with the unionist, loyalist/Protestant establishment, and hardly included the Irish nationalist/Catholic perspective. But when the nationalist/Catholic community began to demand civil rights in the late 1960s, and the sectarian conflict began, the B精东影业 and other British media made far more of an effort to cover this previously underreported viewpoint.
鈥淏y the 1970s, the B精东影业 realized they had paid no attention to issues of discrimination in housing, voting, and employment that had fueled Catholic resentment, and by doing so had failed as a public service broadcaster,鈥� said Savage. 鈥淭hey tried to right this wrong, and began asking difficult questions about government policies that contributed to the violence, which convinced the government that there was a left-wing bias in the B精东影业 and other media. This discord escalated when Thatcher became prime minister [in 1979]: Criticism of the army or police, she believed, provided the 鈥榦xygen of publicity鈥� for the IRA. This was unacceptable, in her eyes, because it undermined the rule of law.鈥�
Press coverage of organizations or individuals espousing violence, such as terrorist groups or mass shooters, has long been a source of controversy. But the British ban was problematic, according to Savage, because it applied to a popular political party, Sinn F茅in.
鈥淪inn F茅in was described as the political arm of the Irish Republican Army, but it was also an established political party whose members were democratically elected,鈥� he said. 鈥淢eanwhile, the B精东影业 was interviewing combatants in other countries鈥� conflicts that their governments denounced as being waged by terrorists or subversives, such as the African National Congress in South Africa. There was a significant disconnect.鈥�
The start of what would be the decisive Northern Irish peace process in 1994 led the government to finally rescind the ban.
鈥淭he imposition of censorship was an unsuccessful attempt to control the narrative of the conflict for domestic and international audiences. Obviously, there weren鈥檛 multiple platforms or sources for news like today. A two-minute segment on the national news could be very influential: The Foreign Office remarked that media coverage of Bloody Sunday in 1972 had 鈥榰ndermined all our work; now we鈥檙e seen as oppressors.鈥� The stakes were high.鈥�
As a project for his Film, Media, and Modern Ireland class this semester, Savage and his undergraduate students have assembled an exhibit of republican and loyalist posters from a Burns Library collection that is currently on display in the History Department.
Sean Smith | University Communications | February 2023