Despair returns to the republican heartland

MR John Fee, an SDLP councillor from Crossmaglen, visited the homes of nationalist supporters over the weekend. "There were a lot of tears, I can tell you. There was total depression, bordering on despair."

Republicans were also subdued. Nobody was openly crowing about the IRA Canary Wharf bombing. "But there was no criticism either.

"John Major and David Trimble had their chance. They had over 17 months to talk. They didn't."

This comment from one of the customers in Paddy Short's pub in Crossmaglen was followed by a shrug, a gesture stating that the bombing was ordained from the moment all party dialogue with Sinn Fein was denied.

"Nothing has changed," says the bar owner, Paddy Short "There's still armed Englishmen and Welsh and Scots ... passing my door at night."

He, too, feels the bombing was inevitable. "The British government was trying to humiliate Sinn Fein."

Republicans in south Armagh are still staunch. In Crossmaglen, Cullyhanna and Newtownhamilton on Saturday nobody was blaming the IRA, or Gerry Adams or Martin McGuinness for the collapse of the ceasefire.

South Armagh is tight, cagey territory. People are necessarily cautious of reporters. People must be careful of expressing their views, in ease of dangerous misinterpretation. Equally people are sick of south Armagh being labelled bandit country.

For the visitor, though, there is no doubt that this is republican heartland. On the approach road to Crossmaglen, the "On Hold" strapline, appended to the "Sniper at Work" roadsign after the ceasefire has been removed.

The letters "IRA" are affixed to telephone poles. Tricolours flutter in the breeze.

On the south Armagh hills the British army in its observation posts monitors people's movements. Outside the heavily fortified RUC and British army - station in Newtownhamilton - about eight miles from Crossmaglen, the security barriers are down again.

"I can't see the point. It would take a very strong earthquake to shift that fortress," says local SDLP man James Savage. He says the British government must accept some of the blame for the bombing. "There should have been talking."

In McConville's pub on the square in Crossmaglen a customer inquires, "And who's the editor of The Irish Times now?" It's a test: is this reporter really who he says he is?

Another customer says he hopes the ceasefire can be rescued. "It's been easier this past 17 months. People have been getting used to the peace.

In Paddy Short's pub, which is Just off the square, the half dozen customers are sipping bottles of McArdles, Smithwicks and Heineken. The television is flicked between sport and news. When Gerry Adams appears on one report someone exclaims, "That's our man".

"The trouble with you boys," says Paddy Short of the press, "is that you won't print the truth." He's weary and wary of reporters, but he and his customers gradually open up. "It would never have come to this if Albert Reynolds had stayed in power," says Paddy.

As for John Bruton and his Government colleagues, he is dismissive. "You have quisling politicians in the Free State."

And he adds: "Who's happy now that the ceasefire is over? Did you see them on television, those unionist politicians, grinning like Cheshire cats, saying we told you so, when they should have been talking to Sinn Fein."

Paddy and his clients were certain that Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness still had the total support of republicans. "It's not their fault the ceasefire is over. They did everything they could," said one customer.

In the nearby village of Cullyhanna, Jim McAllister, a Sinn Fein councillor, says the general mood is sadness at the end of the ceasefire. "While nobody is applauding the bombing, people knew it was going to happen sooner rather than later, the way things were going."

The one way to retrieve the situation was for the British government to initiate all party talks. "People here are very frustrated and demoralised. Republicans are treated as non existent people," he added.

"Everybody else's worries and fears matter, but ours don't. Well, our worries and fears do matter, and Mr Major better believe it."