The Ireland into which Thomas Russell was born in 1767 was in very many ways a different country from the country we live in today. Ireland (like the rest of the world) was a pre-industrial country in 1796. It was governed by aristocrats and the majority of people made their living on the land or in related trades. The formal political structures of eighteenth-century Ireland were based on religious background, and full membership of the political nation depended upon conformity to the Church of Ireland. Russell was raised an Anglican and was deeply religious throughout his life, but his radicalism would not allow him to accept the relative political privileges which his background allowed.

Russell’s religious thinking tended towards a belief in the coming Armageddon of The Book of Revelations. Upon learning that he was to be executed, he asked for a stay of execution so that he could finish his study of the coming end times. Pre-figuring some ‘liberation theologians’, Russell’s Jesus was a radical, bringing comfort to the oppressed. “When will this social war cease?” Russell asked. “How my heart beats. Jesus wept… Were He to revisit this earth, where would He be found? Would it be at the Episcopal tables or with stall-fed theologians? He would be found in the cottier’s cabin. His hand would pour balm on the mangled body of the expiring husband; and His eyes would spread the consolation of heaven upon the wretchedness of the Irish peasantry.” 

Rather than become an Anglican cleric as his father desired, Thomas Russell joined his brother Ambrose as a soldier, and later became a revolutionary activist, a prisoner and ultimately a martyr, dead at the age of 36.  Rather than entering ‘good society’, Russell seemed to prefer the company of the poor. “I am much interested for this seemingly unfortunate young man Russell, wrote Martha McTier to her brother William Drennan in 1793. “He seems very poor, is very agreeable, very handsome and well informed, … His dress betrays poverty, and he associates with men every way below himself, on some of whom, I fear, he mostly lives…”

Russell was born at the cusp of the transition to new manufacturing processes in textiles, extraction and steam power that became known as the industrial revolution and his journals show his keen interest in scientific discoveries of his time. He was born into a world in which people were routinely bought and sold as slaves, and against which he protested by boycotting sugar. Mary Ann McCracken remembered that, as a young officer in Belfast, Russell had “abstained from the use of slave labour produce until slavery in the West Indies was abolished, and at the dinner parties to which he was so often invited and when confectionery was so much used he would not take anything with sugar in it.”

Thomas Russell was also born into a world of political revolutions. The French Revolution of 1789 encouraged radical movements in Scotland and England, and as far as Haiti where the slave revolt of 1791 led to that country’s independence from France. In Ireland revolutionary activism culminated in the 1798 rebellion which one historian describes as “little short of civil war”.  

Having been a British soldier in India in the 1780s, Russell returned to Ireland and resumed his military career in 1790 as a junior officer in Belfast. The French Revolution in 1789 had been warmly greeted in Belfast as were its ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity. In 1791 Bastille Day was enthusiastically commemorated in Belfast with parades involving local Volunteer companies, other celebratory activities and souvenir merchandise offered for sale and in October 1791, the Society of United Irishmen was formed in Belfast in Peggy Barclay’s tavern – a pub in an entry off High Street. Russell was an enthusiastic early member. “I confess”, Russell wrote, “[that] I am quite proud of this club [the United Irishmen] … It is the first ever instituted in the history of this kingdom for the removal of religious and political prejudices. I think it as an event in the history of this country and, if properly managed, as the dawning of liberty.”

Pressure from Dublin Castle would later force the United Irish movement to become a clandestine organisation as the would-be revolutionaries sought to continue their slow progress towards challenging the status quo. In 1796 Russell was arrested and imprisoned without trial as a “state prisoner” in Dublin and later Scotland. missing out on  participation in the 1798 rising as a result.

What was the nature of Russell’s radicalism? His radical religiosity was a constant throughout his life, although it was tempered with the guilty pursuit of worldly pleasures. His political radicalism can be seen most clearly in his Letter to the People of Ireland, which was published in 1796, the year of his imprisonment. It is a historical document that can usefully be re-read in 2017. “Great pains”, Russell wrote, “have been taken to prevent the mass of mankind from interfering in political pursuits; force, and argument, and wits, and ridicule, and invective, have been tried by the governing party, and with such success, that any of the lower, or even middle rank of society who engage in politics, have been, and are, considered not only as ridiculous, but in some degree culpable; ….  it became an indisputed maxim that the poor were not to concern themselves in what related to the government of the country in which they lived… Those insolent enslavers of the human race, who wish to fetter the mind as well as the body, exclaim to the poor, ‘mind your looms, and your spades and ploughs; have you not the means of subsistence; can you not earn your bread, and have wives and get children; and are you not protected so long as you keep quiet?’”

It is here, in this radical egalitarianism, in this radical refusal of injustice that Thomas Russell speaks to us from the very different Ireland of 1796. Because the rulers of the world, still want to “to prevent the mass of mankind from interfering in political pursuits.”  Referring to the rulers of Irish society, Russell asks us to, “look at their fruits in history, and see what terrible calamities the perfidy, ambition, avarice, and cruelty of these rulers have brought on mankind; look at the people who are said to make laws for this country; look at some of that race who inherit great fortunes without the skills or capacity of being useful; those fungus productions, who grow out of a diseased state of society, and destroy as well the vigour as the beauty of that which nourishes them. These are some of the wiser heads; these are the hands in which the people are to repose their lives and properties; for whose splendid debaucheries they must be taxed; and for whose convenience they must fetter even their thoughts.”

Unfortunately, this scathing judgement could be used to describe the political and economic rulers of Ireland in 2017 as much as those of 1796. The farcical politics of Northern Ireland played out by the sectarian parties do not blind us to tragic outcomes that the current economic system visits upon the majority. Meanwhile in the South, the Irish Times reports that in 2016 according to the annual Forbes ranking of global billionaires six Irish citizens are members of the billionaires’ club with a combined net worth of more than $30 billion (€27.6 billion),  The richest Irish-born billionaire is include Digicel founder Denis O’Brien, whose fortune is estimated at $5.7 billion, while financier Dermot Desmond is estimated as being worth $1.9 billion. Other statistics show that the top 10% of households receives 24% of Ireland’s total disposable income while the bottom 10% of households only receives 3% The number of people officially living in poverty in Ireland has increased by more than 100,000 since the onset of the recession – meaning that 750,000 people in Ireland currently live in poverty including one in five children.

Despite the development of industry and invention in the past two hundred years, the glaring injustices that inspired Russell to a revolutionary life persist in 2017. These injustices and the lives of revolutionaries such as Russell are our inspiration.

At this graveside last year Lily Kerr spoke fondly of the similarities between Thomas Russell and our late friend and comrade, Des O’Hagan. Des O’Hagan was a source of inspiration to many if not all of us here today and a founder and driving force behind these annual events. He was, like Russell, a great voice against injustice and sectarianism on this island and around the world. We are honoured to remember him along with Thomas Russell here today.

Mendel-Gleason said:

‘The Workers’ Party has a costed policy for universal cost rental housing, and our figures accurately account for the cost of underground parking. €100,000 is an unbelievable figure and does not reflect industry estimates of costs which are closer to €20,000. By removing the outlandish profit margin – 10-20% – building apartments with adequate underground parking is affordable.

Mendel-Gleason stated:

‘Though parking increases costs, building apartments is still viable if the universal, public cost rental model is used. This model, directly built by the state, offers the best solution to the housing crisis as it cuts out the need for a profit margin for the developers and can be offered to tenants regardless of their income levels.

‘How come the government considers every possible measure to reduce costs – scrapping carparking, reducing storage, reducing windows in apartments – except the most obvious: scrapping the extortionate profit made by developers, by simply building houses directly?’  

Mendel-Gleason concluded by slamming the CIF and Tom Parlon as greedy property interests whose attitude symbolises why Ireland has such an appalling housing crisis:

‘It comes as no surprise that Parlon would put forward such figures to try to drive down standards. As a former Progressive Democrat Minister for State, and now, Director General of the CIF, he has been a representative for some of the most right-wing neoliberal interests in the country. It is their failed economic model of tax breaks, lack of regulation and privatisation that has the country in the grip of this appalling housing crisis. It’s well past time for the state to step in and directly build public housing – our figures show it offers much better value.’

Austin Kelly delivers the oration

Oration, Workers’ Party Commemoration, Sunday, 3rd September 2017

Comrades and Friends,

We gather here today to remember our members and supporters who lost their lives in 1976-1977. I would like to thank you all for coming, especially the family members of those we are here to commemorate. We share your continuing grief at the loss of your loved ones.

Forty years have passed since the untimely deaths of Gerry Gilmore, Kevin McMenamin, John Short and Trevor McNulty. It is important to remember the political context in which these attacks on our members and their families took place. Until July 1977 the Fine Gael-Labour coalition government led by Liam Cosgrove (which had viciously attacked civil liberties) was in power in Dublin until replaced by Fianna Fáil under Jack Lynch.

In Northern Ireland our Party, then known as the Republican Clubs, reaffirmed its demand for the abolition of all repressive political and social legislation; called for a fully integrated, comprehensive system of education, a Bill of Rights and the introduction of a national minimum wage; demanded an end to the vicious campaigns of bombing and killings carried out by various forces and re-stated its position that peace was a revolutionary demand.

The Republican Clubs also condemned the period of 1976-77 as a “political vacuum” during which a vicious circle of murderous violence was carried out by various forces, including the state, maintaining a state of communal terror which undermined the capacity of working people to develop progressive politics. Despite the difficult political environment, the Republican Clubs secured six seats in the local government elections in 1977.

On 13 July 1976, Gerry Gilmore, aged 19, was murdered by the UDA/UFF at the Boundary Bar in Bawnmore. At the time of his murder Gerry Gilmore was protecting his class from sectarian attack (as many of you know the Greencastle area throughout the 70s & 80s had borne the brunt of sectarian violence from Orange & Green sectarian & fascist gangs) and there is no doubt that Gerry helped to save many other lives that same night we can only speculate as to how many.

Kevin McMenamin aged 7, was murdered by the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) when they carried out a bomb attack on a Republican Clubs Easter commemoration parade at Beechmount Avenue on 10 April 1977.

John Short aged 49, was murdered by the Provisional Alliance in Turf Lodge on 10 April 1977. He was on his way with members of the McMenamin family to tell other family members of Kevin’s death.

On Wednesday, 27 July 1977, Trevor McNulty was murdered by the Provisionals in the New Lodge. Trevor was a member of the Northern Ireland Executive of the Republican Clubs and held the post of Education Officer.

Young Kevin McMenamin was only 7 years of age when he was murdered.

Our comrades, our friends, were murdered because of their dedication to their principles, to the ideals of Tone and Connolly, to the unity of the working class, to building a socialist future, the establishment of a democratic, secular, socialist, unitary state on the island of Ireland – a Republic.

They were murdered because of their commitment to the cause of building a revolutionary party of and for the working class.

In 1976/77 Northern Ireland was in the grip of a belligerent, poisonous sectarianism. Our Party and its members were seen as a threat by a repressive state and openly sectarian para-military groups which included ultra-leftists and reactionary pro-British and pro-Irish nationalists. Those responsible for the attacks on our Party in 1976/77 shared a hatred of our democratic, secular, anti-sectarian, internationalist, socialist politics. The Provisionals, in particular, thought they had an opportunity to remove us from the political stage. They could not abide the fact that our political message and our anti-sectarian campaign was gathering support in areas they regarded as theirs.

Nor could they forgive the fact that the very existence of our Party exposed the hollowness of their sham republicanism, revealing it for the squalid sectarian nationalism that it was. That is why they targeted our Party and talented and committed comrades like Trevor McNulty.

The 1970 Ard Fheis was a defining moment in the history of republicanism in Ireland. It set the framework for the transition from narrow nationalist militarism to revolutionary socialism. During the 70s we clarified our ideology, strengthened our party organisation and began to develop clear class priorities to establish our credentials within the working class.

In 1972 Sean Garland, at the grave of Wolfe Tone, made clear that a revolution could not be made by a small conspiratorial elite, but only by a mass movement of the people. He laid out clearly what was needed if such a movement was to be built – a revolutionary party committed to building class consciousness and unity among all workers in Ireland.

As Sean stated:

“The revolutionary party of the people recognises only the unity of the working class and will not now engage in any campaign which could only have the effect of helping the miserable rulers of the working class to survive.”

In 1977, the year in which our comrades were murdered, the Party took the historic decision to add the words “The Workers Party” to the Party name, a vision that led ultimately to the adoption of the party name as “The Workers Party”, in 1982.

At the 1977 Ard Fheis it was manifestly apparent that this decision was a clear political message, as one delegate put it: “the end of the Griffith’s era and the beginning of the Connolly age”. This was aimed at making clear that our party stood in the revolutionary socialist tradition, stripped of the nationalist baggage and language of the past, confident of the future and seeking the allegiance of the entire working class, across the island of Ireland, in the struggle to build socialism. As Tomas MacGiolla, put it in his Presidential Address at that Ard Fheis:

“Sinn Fein is the party of the Workers and we have the policies which can build a democratic, socialist republic.   We claim the support of the working people of both North and South because we are in the vanguard of their struggle.”

This was a direct declaration that our Party and its members was about to seriously take up the new phase of struggle and Sean Garland spelt out in explicit terms the nature and course of that struggle and how that differed from the tactics of the past. We had consciously adopted a new party name and a new strategy and programme.

We were now a Workers’ Party.

No longer prisoners of history our Party, as the advanced vanguard of the class-conscious working class, embarked on the long hard course of political struggle under the slogans of “Peace, Work and Class Politics”, raising class issues  such as unemployment, poverty, homelessness, entering all geographical areas without exception to promote the socialist message.  And all this was achieved at a time of ongoing state and paramilitary oppression, and the murderous attacks upon our members and their families from orange and green nationalists.

Those who did not understand this new phase of struggle, or who did not have the ability or imagination to comprehend a new revolutionary course, sought refuge in the grey romantic, militarist mists of the past. For them, there was no revolutionary future where workers might build a new society in which they were the masters and in which their rights were protected and guaranteed.  For them, all efforts were to be devoted to the preservation of the glorious failures of the past.

Over the years we have had some who have tired of the struggle for a socialist Ireland, who have opted instead for the cosy embrace of social democracy with its ample personal rewards or who have retreated into the comfort of reminiscence rather than the demanding work required to build a revolutionary party and construct socialism. Some left to pursue what Malachy McGurran once referred to as “greener but safer fields”.

Those we honour today were committed to our struggle. To abandon that struggle and to retreat into some false nostalgia or mawkish sentimentality would be to betray the sacrifices made by our comrades, and would rob those sacrifices of their meaning.

We are now as we were then, The Workers Party, unambiguous and unashamed.

40 years on, the best tribute to the comrades we commemorate today is the legacy of a strong and vibrant Workers’ Party. Building our Party, on ideology rather than sentimentality, engaging daily in the hard slog to fund and mobilise our Party  and its ongoing struggle to forge the unity of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter; to raise class consciousness among workers; to educate, agitate, organise, and to create a socialist Ireland ruled by the workers, for the working class.

This will be the most powerful monument and memorial to those we remember today.