23 July 2010
Belfast Telegraph
The lucid memory of that horrific episode, however, lives with him every day, emboldening a relentless, painstaking search for the truth about who was really behind it.
John Finucane, now an established Belfast solicitor himself, is certain that the security forces colluded with loyalists for an assassination he believes was condoned -- even sanctioned -- by the Government.
An outrageous suggestion some might think, but an hour in the company of this 30-year-old criminal lawyer and human rights activist may well cloud the most cynical minds in doubt.
"Through the very nature of his work in those days, my father was proving to be a thorn in the establishment's side," John says.
"He was taking on the British establishment -- with their own laws, through their own courts. He was good at it too, and I don't think they liked that. Quite simply, they killed him because he was effective at his job."
He adds: "My father was looking into unlawful detentions and killings by the security forces. He was one of a select few prepared to do the work."
That work was ended, abruptly and mercilessly, when Pat Finucane, then 39, was shot 14 times by loyalist paramilitary Ken Barrett and another man. Barrett, a UDA informer, finally pleaded guilty to the murder in 2004.
Pat Finucane had been representing well known IRA man Pat 'Beag' McGeown, a suspect in the notorious, brutal and all-too-public murders of two Army corporals in Andersonstown in March 1988. Pictures of Mr Finucane outside Belfast's Crumlin Road Courthouse with his client appeared in the Press. The UDA/UFF said they killed him because he was an "IRA officer" -- although no evidence has ever emerged to support this claim.
Pat Finucane did, however, have well established republican roots. Three brothers -- John, Dermot and Seamus -- were in the Provisional IRA. John was killed 'on active service' in 1972, Dermot was one of the 38 Maze escapees in 1983 and Seamus was a Provo colleague of Bobby Sands (later a client of Pat's); the pair were arrested attempting to destroy a Belfast property store in 1976.
Pat Finucane's son does not believe his father was merely paying for the sins of his siblings; his representation of high-profile paramilitaries is a more plausible 'justification.'
"My father represented loyalists and republicans," he says. "As a solicitor you can't refuse a case and he didn't. He got work because he was successful in challenging the police and the Government. I believe he became a hate figure for them."
John was only eight when his father was murdered in front of him, his mother Geraldine, his brother Michael (then 17) and sister Katherine (13) .
"It was around 7pm," he remembers. "There was a loud bang at the front door and before anybody had time to react my father was killed in front of us in the kitchen.
"We were literally in the middle of our dinner. They suspected the people who did this had done it before because every shot that was fired hit my father. It was particularly brutal in nature."
In 1999, the Metropolitan Police Chief Sir John Stevens, who had already been investigating collusion allegations in Northern Ireland for a decade, launched a specific inquiry into Mr Finucane's murder.
Arising from that investigation, RUC Special Branch agent and loyalist quartermaster William Stobie was charged with supplying one of the pistols used in the murder. He admitted the offence, but denied knowing who the target was. He also argued he'd warned his handlers a shooting was imminent.
The Stobie case collapsed in November 2001; he was shot dead by loyalists outside his own home shortly afterwards.
But John's focus is not on the paramilitaries involved.
"They were merely sent out to do a job," he says. "The main question is: who sent them out, and why? Loyalists have since gone on the record to say that they were told by the RUC to target my father.
"Why did the Government feel they could get a solicitor murdered in their own jurisdiction?
"Why did they have a policy where many other people were killed?
"If this was just about the murder of my father I don't think it would have gathered as much momentum or attracted as much attention as it has. This was a policy that affected many, many people."
He adds: "We know it was Brian Nelson (the loyalist and Army double agent) who provided the intelligence and who had helped set the murder up."
Army officers interviewed by the Stevens team denied any knowledge of a high-level plot but that isn't the source of frustration for the victim's family.
"Prosecutions aren't an issue for us," John admits. "We aren't interested in anybody going to jail for this. The main focus for us is getting at the truth.
"And, firstly, that truth must be told in its entirety. Secondly, that truth must be acknowledged and accepted by the British Government. Thirdly, we must learn lessons from this.
"Until we know what really went on, we'll never be able to learn from it. We must send out a message that we will not tolerate that sort of behaviour from our Government, or from its various agencies."
John's father was killed just weeks after Home Office minister Douglas Hogg told the Commons a number of Ulster solicitors were "unduly sympathetic" to the IRA.
"Yes, and he has never admitted why he made that statement," says John. "We have since learned that he was briefed by senior members of the RUC and given that information to say. One of Stevens' reports says Hogg was compromised.
"The Stevens Report itself has never been published -- why's that?"
You get the impression John Finucane knows the answers already. All he wants is for the Government to own up to its perceived involvement. It could be a long wait; it has already been.
"For the last 20 years, the British Government have resisted, have fought every step of the way to cover up the truth," he says. "As a family, it makes us very suspicious as to what they're hiding."
The Finucane family (John's brother, Michael, is also a solicitor) have been promised an inquiry into Pat's murder -- and they will settle for nothing less.
Put simply, they want the powers-that-be to finally say: 'Yes, that's what happened . . . and we're so sorry it did'.
"My family aren't asking for an open-ended, costly inquiry," John says. "I think this could be dealt with very swiftly. But we need to deal with the past; we can't walk away from it. "
The Finucanes' quest for adequate closure has been backed by, among others, various US Presidents, the Irish Government and the European Parliament.
"My mother (now 60) has likened it to a sore or a cut -- if you don't treat it properly and just cover it up, it will fester below the surface and eventually come up, even more rotten than it was originally," says John.
"And something very rotten was going on at that time, something that caused not just my father's death, but many others."
Today, sitting in a busy cafe in Belfast city centre -- a Belfast thronged with young people who have never heard this story and, frankly, would have no interest in hearing it either -- John admits to occasionally wondering why he has persisted in his quest for the truth for so long.
"I was eight when this happened; I'm 30 now. For the vast majority of my life I haven't known anything else," he says.
Time, however, doesn't make dealing with such a "violent, traumatic and unforeseen death" any easier for a family man looking forward to the birth of his third child next week.
One of his boys is nearly the age John was on that fateful night back in 1989.
"My father was taken away from me. I feel I've missed out on an awful lot and I miss him as much now as I ever did," he says.
"You miss having your father. And the more I find out about who he was, the more I've missed not having that person in my life. That pain, that grief will always be there."
He adds: "No-one wants to spend their life having to talk about the murder of their father and why they want justice to be achieved, but it's where we are. We do want to put this behind us, but until the truth is told I really don't think that's possible."
Previous Article
Post a Comment