Northern Spy

“So it was never peace exactly. The basic argument of the Troubles hadn’t been resolved: most Catholics still wanted a united Ireland, most Protestants wanted to remain part of the UK. The schools were still segregated. You still knew, in every town, which was the Catholic bakery, which was the Protestant taxi firm.”

The author here exposes the fundamental dilemma that fuels the ongoing conflict in her narrative. The political division concerning the state of Northern Ireland remains polarized both in verbal debates and in more physical and visible separations.

“I hoped she would. I liked the thought of her swimming through the limestone arches, bobbing in the water inside the mouth of the caves. It would be like an antidote, the quiet and the spaciousness. The exact opposite of Belfast, of her work as a paramedic, sitting in the back of an ambulance, racing through red lights, steeling herself for the moment when the doors will open.”

Tessa’s hopes for Marian’s vacation to be a reprieve showcase the level of trust and love she had for her sister prior to finding out about her membership in the IRA. There is a note of pride, too, in Tessa’s assessment of her sister’s job: Though it is an arduous task, it is implied that being a paramedic in times of civil war is an essential job.

“‘The United Kingdom will never bend to terrorism,’ [Rebecca Main] says. I stop the clip, leaning forward. She is wearing a bulletproof vest. You can just make out its shape under her suit.”

The justice minister’s statement demonstrates the level of fear that pervades the different levels of government since they are often the targets of the IRA. The author here creates a dichotomy to reinforce the underlying fear in Northern Ireland by having the justice minister visually contradict what she is saying.

“‘Let’s talk about the mailings your party has been sending to houses in Belfast,’ says Nicholas. ‘Do you not consider it divisive, asking citizens to spy on their neighbors?’”

Though the British government is actively trying to stop the violent conflict of the last decades, here the author demonstrates how their tactics can, at times, only further polarize the situation. By asking them to report on their neighbors, they effectively ask civilians to turn on each other, fostering suspicion and division even further within the population. Indirectly, too, the people of Northern Ireland are asked to put themselves in danger, as the IRA punishes those who leak information with death.

“‘Marian may have kept her decision to join to herself.’ ‘She tells me everything,’ I say, and the detective looks sorry for me.”

In this passage, the author signals the extent of Marian’s lies to her family and the cruel consequences such lies and secrets have on someone who believes her. The passage also implies that, for DI Fenton, this blind trust in someone who is, in fact, part of the IRA is something he’s seen often.

“He doesn’t understand, he’s not from our community. At midnight on New Year’s Eve, everyone on our estate came outside, and we joined hands in a circle the length of the street and sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’ together. After my father left, our neighbors gave us some money to hold us over. My mother still lives there, and she has done the same for them when they have their own lean stretches. No one has to ask.”

Tessa’s description of her Catholic community in Andersonstown operates in two fashions: First, it demonstrates how little resources the people there have and the severity of socio-economic inequalities within Northern Ireland. Second, it also suggests why the IRA can hide within communities that support them: They always take care of their own people.

“Having Finn has made me understand revenge. If someone were to hurt my son, I would rise up and find them. It has made sense of the conflict for me, and now I don’t see how it can ever end, with both sides desperate to avenge the ones they love.”

This passage foreshadows how Tessa’s convictions about the conflict will change and how this absolute, in fact, holds the very answer to how the conflict can be resolved. Though she believes revenge for one’s child will always fuel the conflict, it is also true that desiring a better future for one’s children can resolve it.

“He shrugs, and I know what he’s about to say. ‘I’d rather be here than anywhere else. They’ve already hit this once, haven’t they?’ ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ For a moment we look at each other openly. Neither of us believes a word of it, of course. No one knows where the next attack will be.”

Berry here creates an interesting depiction of how perpetual exposure to civil warfare pushes civilians to try to find patterns in the violence. It is a common practice to try and make the sudden shock of violence more predictable, normalize it, and, by extension, renew a sense of control for the victim as the violence then becomes an unremarkable feature of their daily life.

“It doesn’t matter that she suggested the trip. I’ve never watched a terrorist planting a bomb, but that can’t possibly be how they act. Marian didn’t show any sort of strain. She had a long chat with the vendor at the crêpe stall, she can’t have considered him a target.”

This passage exposes Tessa’s lengthy denial about Marian’s participation in the IRA and her misconceptions of what its members are meant to be like. By refusing to believe her sister is in the organization, the author demonstrates how thorough and insidious the IRA can be while also exposing her main character as naive and gullible.

“They have bad memories of the BBC from twenty, fifty years ago, of English reporters asking their children to pose with grenades, of them cutting the news feed on Bloody Sunday.”

In this segment, the author reminds her readers how British institutions like the BBC mishandled the conflict and denigrated the experience of those who lived in Northern Ireland. Such a historical reminder serves to explain why Catholic nationalists are still hostile toward the UK and continue to fight for reunification.

“I could do this with any of our conversations. None of them are stable anymore, they could all mean something entirely different than what I’d thought at the time. I must have seemed so stupid to her.”

Once Tessa is given irrefutable evidence that her sister is part of the IRA, it shatters the dynamics of their relationship as well as their family integrity. Because she wasn’t able to detect that Marian is an IRA member, nothing about their lives together seems genuine, and Tessa loses trust in every fact she thought she knew about Marian.

“He gave her books about England’s other colonies, and what the empire did in Cyprus, Kenya, India, all the reasons the British flag is called the butcher’s apron. He gave her Simone de Beauvoir, Jane Jacobs, Edward Said. She says, ‘He’d ask me, what do you think of that? Do you agree?’”

The author brings up Britain’s colonial past to suggest why the IRA believes they are justified in their pursuit of reunification. Cyprus, Kenya, and India have all been subject to British colonization but have been able to claim their independence, while Northern Ireland remains under the UK’s thumb.

“‘It’s not that simple,’ she says. ‘Should Kenya still be a British colony? Or India? It’s meant to be for the greater good.’ ‘No one asked you to do this for us.’ ‘Because they were scared of the reprisals.’ ‘No, Marian. Everyone’s scared of you.’”

This dialogue exposes how the two sisters have opposing views on the IRA’s mode of operation and its justifications for using violence. Marian believes that using any means to achieve decolonization and be free of British rule is justified, even if that means violence and death. Tessa, however, suggests that striking fear and harming the very people the IRA is meant to set free is unacceptable, no matter the intent.

“‘I want a free Ireland,’ said Marian, as though I don’t, too, as though I’m on the side of the colonialists.”

In this passage, the author highlights the popularity of reuniting with Ireland among the Catholic population of Northern Ireland. Reunification, she implies, is not simply an IRA ambition; rather, there are many who wish for the same thing but simply refuse to participate in terrorism to obtain it.

“The old instincts still apply. My sister has been a terrorist for the past seven years, but I still don’t want her skin to itch.”

Despite Marian’s being an IRA member, Berry here intimates that betrayal of trust seldom erases a lifelong-held love for one’s family member. Instead, love for this person persists and complicates one’s choices. Even though logic would tell her to abandon Marian, it isn’t possible for Tessa to stop caring for her sister despite knowing she has been aiding and actively participating in the IRA for the last seven years.

“Tears cover my face, my throat. We can’t leave here without his father’s consent. The only way for Finn to be safe is for this to stop. It’s not really a decision, is it? I’m going to become an informer. I’m going to do this knowing that the IRA’s punishment for informing is death, possibly a beating first, possibly torture.”

Through Tessa’s decision to become an informer for her son’s eventual safety, the author creates the counter-rhetoric to the IRA’s belief that only violence will allow them to obtain freedom from the British government. Instead, Tessa’s choice signals that putting a stop to the conflict is the only way to work for Finn’s—and, extendedly, every other child’s—future.

“On the bus into Belfast, I’m aware of every other passenger. You have to constantly reassure yourself, living here. No, that man isn’t acting strangely, no, those people aren’t signaling each other, no, there’s nothing unusual about that suitcase.”

This quote exemplifies the floating anxiety that defined life in Northern Ireland during the conflict. Though a person may seem innocent, no one can be trusted.

“‘So in a united Ireland you won’t feel guilty?’ ‘I’ll feel guilty for the rest of my life.’”

This passage exhibits how Marian is fully aware of the (at times devastating) consequences her actions have on the people of Northern Ireland. Though she will be haunted by all the people she has directly or indirectly harmed as an IRA member, Marian nevertheless believes in achieving freedom for the majority—even if some people are sacrificed along the way.

“Except for those moments in the car park, though, I’m less scared now than I was before becoming an informer. My position in relation to the IRA has shifted. I’m studying them now, working against them, not waiting to become one of their victims.”

In this excerpt, Berry shows the pitfalls of growing accustomed to being in close proximity but not in the thick of danger. Though she “studies them,” Tessa has no true knowledge of what it means to be in the IRA. Tessa’s hubris about her safety belies the real dangers of her position, as she believes herself in control of her safety and person.

“‘How can you do this to them?’ ‘I’m doing this for them, too,’ she says. ‘They need a peace deal, or they’re going to get themselves killed.’”

In this passage, Marian demonstrates the good intentions that often motivate her to take drastic actions, like becoming an IRA member and later an informer. Though she risks her life and those of her closest loved ones, the author implies that, at her core, Marian cares deeply about Northern Ireland and her people. How she acts on those feelings, however, is often misguided and leads to more issues than it solves.

“Watching them, they seem no different from a unit in the Special Forces or the Royal Irish Rangers, and the decision to join them no more dramatic than the decision to enlist in any army. I try to locate the moral difference between them and, say, the Royal Air Force. The RAF has maimed and killed civilians, too. It all seems equally vacant.”

With this excerpt, Berry outlines the moral dilemma of condemning the IRA’s violent siege on Northern Ireland. For most, violence that is deemed “warranted,” such as bombings during World War II, for instance, is acceptable because the context of the situation deems it necessary. What Tessa realizes in this instance, therefore, is that the only reason the IRA’s civil warfare is not as palatable as the actions of, say, the Royal Irish Rangers is because the context of their actions is deemed unnecessary.

“It feels like we’re serving him, the way our great-grandmother served men like him. She went to work at age twelve, and the landowner who hired her wouldn’t let her ride in his carriage, she had to walk behind it for miles. No one comforted her once they arrived at the great house, either. No one mentioned that she was a child, or that it was her first night in her life away from her mother. After four months of work, she was paid five pounds.”

Berry paints a vivid picture of the historical hardships that afflicted the Catholic community in Northern Ireland in this passage. Specifically, she emphasizes the temporal aspect of the differences between generations that, in the end, are not so different after all. In only four generations, the Daly family has gone from childhood servitude to independent women who nevertheless find themselves sacrificing themselves for the seemingly ungrateful British aristocracy.

“If I tell someone this story in sixty years, they might consider Seamus its hero. They might hope for his plans to succeed, and they might be right. Seamus is willing to die to bring about a fair future. It’s hard to say anymore which of us has Stockholm syndrome.”

Berry suggests with this passage that what is just and acclaim-worthy in violent conflicts is often decided by a person’s own subjectivity to the situation. The nuances of the situation often fall away or cling on depending on a person’s values, and for Tessa, who is torn between a desire for a reunited Ireland, an abhorrence for IRA tactics, and a longing for peace and respect, it becomes difficult to be purely critical and disapproving of Seamus, who, at the very least, is actively pursuing one of those goals, however horrifically.