Prisoners of history

At times during the Northern conflict, it was known as Long Kesh, the H-Blocks and the Maze. In advance of the prison's demolition, Carissa Caseyfinds plans for its future curtailed by the past

If history is written by the victor, then who writes the history of Northern Ireland? The first attempt at a shared public history for this troubled place is about to be carved among the crumbling walls of the H-Blocks in the now abandoned Maze prison near Lisburn in Co Antrim.

Most of the former internment camp and prison will be demolished by the end of this year but an old Nissen Hut, or cage in republican parlance, H-Block 4, the chapel and the hospital where 10 hunger strikers died are being preserved.

"It's not a museum," repeats the guide from the Office of First Minister/Deputy First Minister, which now owns the site, during a tour of the former prison.

"You're not allowed call it a museum, but it obviously is a museum," says Paul Butler, the Sinn Féin assembly member who sits on the Maze Regeneration Committee.

Butler and his party are the main moving forces behind the non-museum, officially called the International Centre for Conflict Transformation (ICCT). It is planned that the centre, which will cost about £10 million (€15m), will be used by people from troubled spots around the world to learn about the long-running and ultimately successful peace process in Northern Ireland. But it will also preserve a record of - and some would argue, become a potential shrine to - one of the most contentious periods of Northern Ireland's history.

According to Butler, the centre is a quid pro quo for the equally controversial National Sport Stadium which is also being built on the site about half a mile away.

"The unionists were very hostile to the idea of preserving part of the H-Blocks. They didn't want it. They thought republicans were going to march there every year and it would be a shrine. Politics were at play and the deal was that if unionists got their stadium - we were quite agnostic about the stadium - then we got our ICCT," he says.

The connection between Sinn Féin and the Maze can hardly be overestimated. Party leader Gerry Adams spent time there. Gerry Kelly, junior minister at the Office of First Minister/Deputy First Minister which now owns the site, was part of the 1983 mass-breakout.

Butler was on the same wing as Bobby Sands when he went on hunger strike and eventually died in the prison hospital. "There's a lot of emotion there and a lot of attachment to the place," he says. "We don't ever want to see another Long Kesh (the former name of the Maze) but at the same time we need to face up to the past in order to build a future."

For Butler and many of his party colleagues, the biggest motivation for creating the centre is to preserve the history of the hunger-strikes. "That's one of the bleakest and darkest periods for republicans. In other ways their sacrifices and deaths - Sinn Féin came out of that. This generation of republicans realised that the potential was there for the political process. In the jail the debate started that we would need to get involved in the political process and the rest is history."

In contrast many unionists and the Prison Officers Association for Northern Ireland would prefer to see the entire site demolished.

Butler believes this is an attempt to erase the past. "That's not going to work. It's a naive view. While they might have a different perspective, things did happen," he says.

To say there are different perspectives on the hunger-strikes in Northern Ireland is to put it mildly. For republicans and some nationalists, they were the painful birth of the peace process. To many unionists, the hunger-strikers were no more than a bunch of terrorists intent on suicide.

A former prison officer, who did not want to be named, was willing to talk at length about various events in the prison. Asked about the atmosphere around the time of the hunger-strikes, he replied "electric", then walked away, refusing to be drawn on the subject further.

On the bright April morning when parties in Northern Ireland selected departments for a new government, Butler and his DUP counterpart on the Maze Regeneration Committee, Edwin Poots, were at the former prison to watch the first part of the perimeter wall being demolished. "Stormont rises as Maze tumbles" ran the headline in a local newspaper.

Poots, now Minister-in-waiting for Culture Arts and Leisure, offers lukewarm support for the ICCT. "On the basis that it was perceived in the original report [ on the Maze Regeneration], that it will be neutral, inclusive and constructive, it's something I don't have an issue with," he says.

He admits it can "cause a bit of a stir" in his party and agrees that the very existence of an ICCT exposes the fundamental fault-lines in Northern Ireland's society. "It's also a demonstration that we can come to agreement on controversial issues," he says.

CAHAL MCLAUGHLIN, A senior lecturer in media studies at the University of Ulster, is charged with the task of producing material for the planned centre. A former documentary-maker, he will film about 100 people formerly connected with the Maze - republicans, loyalists, prison officers, doctors, Open University teachers - walking around the now defunct site this summer.

"We'll tell the story from every angle. It's not about reaching consensus. I imagine it will be very raw material, difficult to listen to and to watch. It's the personal angle here that's important. It's a memory archive, not a definitive history," he says.

He's hoping to interview about 15 former prison officers as part of the exercise. "While the POA has its official line, you find that once you start talking to individual officers they're very keen to talk. Often what they don't say is as important as what they do. The key to success is that we give people a veto over the end result. If they're not happy they can withdraw."

While republicans may be the main driving force behind the Maze centre, the prison was also home to several thousand loyalist prisoners.

The late leader of the Progressive Unionist Party (PUP) David Ervine once described how the prison became his university under the tutelage of the loyalist leader Gusty Spence. Billy Hutchinson, also of the PUP, spent time at the prison.

He says his concern is that loyalists won't get equal recognition at the centre. "They've already done a deal with republicans," he said. "People haven't consulted with us. I think it will become a shrine to the hunger-strikers. That's how I feel at the minute."

Both McLaughlin and Sinn Féin's Paul Butler say they are keen for former loyalist inmates to get involved. Hutchinson has previously participated in interviews with McLaughlin.

Hutchinson does not want to see the jail demolished, but he raises a valid concern, acknowledged by Butler, that the hunger-strike period and therefore republican history is likely to dominate.

Butler makes no secret of the fact that his party wants the republican story to be told. "What we want to see is schools coming up here from all across Ireland. This would be on the curriculum - the hunger-strike period."

For a new generation of young children in Northern Ireland, the Troubles and the hunger-strikes are already history. There is an optional module on the GCSE history course taught in schools covering the period from the Civil Rights Campaign to the Anglo-Irish Agreement and including the hunger-strikes.

According to John McManus, a history teacher at La Salle Boys School in west Belfast, so much effort is put into maintaining a sense of neutrality that the subject often becomes boring for students.

"Most kids have no awareness of the Troubles. They don't remember troops on the streets but they are very aware they live in a divided society," he says. "I see it dealing with soccer teams. There's still a real bitterness there even though there's no understanding of it."

Meanwhile, students often learn a less anodyne version of history at home. "It's very difficult to change what kids pick up at home. Many of the perceptions and prejudices come from there."

"The issue is whether we have a shared history or a contested history. The problem is when shared history ends up taking this neutered view of things. Then you have no incentive to look at the dirt under the rug. If the Maze centre explores the darker areas, I think that would be a good thing."

KILMAINHAM GAOL IN Dublin, which housed both 1916 leaders and internees during the Civil War, offers some kind of model for the proposed ICCT at the Maze. Niall Bergin, Kilmainham's supervisor, says their approach is to stick to the facts. "We don't try to gloss over anything but we're not giving a history lesson. We stick to the history of the building and how events outside affected what happened here."

Bergin says it might yet be too soon for a similar centre at the Maze. "In Northern Ireland, passions are still high. Kilmainham closed in 1924 and it wasn't until the late 1950s that it re-opened for tours. A lot of time had passed by then."

But he, like McLaughlin, is adamant that memories of the Maze should be preserved.

"The prisons are iconic," says McLaughlin. "If you look at what went on in them they are microcosms of the Troubles. For me it's crucial. It's about being able to face up the past and with it the future. In many ways, listening to the other side will be more important than listening to their own."