Patrick Magee - Where Grieving Begins

by Jo Berry

It is both an honour and a challenge to write this foreword; it is unusual to be asked to write a foreword for someone who killed your father. Yet I have for the last twenty years been in dialogue with Patrick Magee, the man who planted the bomb at the Grand Hotel in Brighton which killed my dad, Sir Anthony Berry, and four others.

This book is Patrick Magees memoir, from his early memories to his vision of Belfast today; he charts his joining the IRA, the appalling experience he and others endured of internment, his active engagement, his imprisonment and his release. It is eye opening for us who have only heard of this time in history from the English perspective, revealing some harsh truths that I think it is important we learn about. The last six chapters describe our first meeting and the work he has since done with me and others from around the world, engaging in peace and reconciliation.

Please read this story as one of the many truths of the conflict; no one has the objective truth of what happened. Everyone who was present has a valid story that we can hear even if we dont agree. I have empathised with people who have been enemies to each other, and some to me, and I can see that if we had lived each others lives we may have made the same choices as the other person did. It is easy to judge, make someone wrong and someone right, but the question for me is how we can listen to one another and learn from the past so violence is not used again.

I appreciate the honesty of Patricks writing and I could feel the challenging situation he found himself in Belfast. I think it is important for those outside his community to see something of the harsh reality some Catholics experienced. There are parts of the first half of the book that I found hard to read; there is much suffering and pain. I cannot help but reflect on how different my experiences were at that age. I have never felt comfortable with justification for violence and there is much in this book. The nuances and uncertainty that Patrick has sometimes expressed in our talks do not feature but I understand that he is writing for some of his community who do not feel heard. For some people he may have gone too far, for others not far enough.

His description of our first meeting captures the intensity well, and to help the reader understand my motivation, I will share a little here. Twenty years ago, I arranged to meet Pat Magee as a one-off encounter so I could look into his eyes and see him as a human being. I did not need an apology, for that wouldnt bring my dad back; I knew from meeting others who had been in the IRA that he would come with a sense of righteousness. They were the oppressed, those without power, the marginalised my dad represented power and the elite. I knew Pat would see it as a righteous war and one they had had no choice in. He did start by justifying and talking from the generic we. I listened and asked open questions to find out more of his personal story. I remember the moment when I looked into his eyes and saw how much he cared for his community; at that moment, he was no longer a faceless enemy but someone with his own story and humanity. An enemy is just someone whose story we havent heard.

I was about to end the meeting when Pat had what he now calls his epiphany moment. I remember the difference he was no longer justifying or saying the word we. He was speaking from his heart, being vulnerable and asking me about my father. He was visibly shaken and emotional; his voice had more depth and I knew I needed to stay longer. It was dawning on him for the first time that my dad had been a human being and he had killed him. He realised he had lost some of his humanity and was guilty of demonising them in the same way he accuses the Other of demonising republicans. He could hear the impact of his actions.

I had reached my limit of being able to listen after another hour, and that was when he said I am sorry I killed your father. He spoke with great feeling and conveyed how this weighed heavily in him. I say, Im glad it was you the words just popped out, and twenty years later we are still discussing what I meant.

I was acknowledging that I did not think many would have opened their hearts at that point, to feel the emotional cost of their actions. Pat has said that if I had started the meeting with blame and finger-pointing, he would have stayed within the safe place of righteousness. Instead he was disarmed by the empathy I showed. I was more curious and interested in who was behind the rhetoric than seeking revenge for what he had done to my family.