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RTÉ's ‘Noraid: Irish America and the IRA' leans towards the Che Guevara version of history
RTÉ's ‘Noraid: Irish America and the IRA' leans towards the Che Guevara version of history

Irish Times

time10-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Irish Times

RTÉ's ‘Noraid: Irish America and the IRA' leans towards the Che Guevara version of history

The makers of Noraid: Irish America and the IRA , RTÉ 's flashy new two-part documentary about the Provisionals' support base in North America, say they want to 'tell a story that is misunderstood or not known at all'. But of course, anyone who was alive during the Troubles will remember only too well how elements within Irish America helped fund the IRA's campaign and, in so doing, contributed to the bombings of civilians, the kneecappings, the murder of Gardaí and the sectarian campaign against Protestant farmers along the border. How shocking to think this part of history might be in danger of slipping between the cracks of popular recollection. The film (RTÉ One. 9.35pm) doesn't quite paint Noraid – a contraction of 'Irish Northern Aid Committee' – as misunderstood heroes. However, it might have gone further in making explicit what they were supporting. That is, the slaughter of pensioners on Remembrance Sunday, the kidnapping and murder of businessmen, industrial-scale bank robbery. That isn't to absolve the British state of its sins in the North , its backing of loyalist death squads or the stain of colonialism, as dark as not-quite-dried blood. But the documentary does not convey, or even really acknowledge, the horror the overwhelming majority of people in Ireland felt at the time towards the Provos. And that is relevant to the story, as it also explains the widespread revulsion towards Noraid. If anything, the first of two episodes leans ever so subtly towards the Che Guevara version of history – never mind the body count; look at the cool poster we got out of it. READ MORE Hipster touches abound as the producers play up the New York element of the story. The Beastie Boys feature on the soundtrack, and the title cards are modelled on old cop shows. These are flourishes that do not always sit well with the grim subject matter. Still, there are flashes of humour, too – such as when activists recall arranging for senior members of the republican movement in Belfast to be interviewed by one of America's most widely-read journals, Playboy. Meanwhile, taxi driver John McDonagh remembers booking an ad in Times Square supporting the IRA – it finished with the initials 'UTP'. This spelt 'Up the Provos', though the company that took the booking thought it meant 'Up the Pope'. 'They never asked me what type of charity,' McDonagh says. 'I said I wanted to send season's greetings to the Irish people. They never asked what type of Irish people. I didn't offer what type.' If the film doesn't take a strong enough stand on the Provos, it does give a voice to senior Noraid figures and allows them to communicate their views uncritically. It introduces Martin Galvin, a lawyer and leading figure in Noraid. He was banned from entering Northern Ireland but went anyway in 1984. In the riot that followed his appearance at a rally in West Belfast, British security forces shot dead a protester with a rubber bullet. Galvin obviously wasn't to blame for the bloody excesses of the British security establishment. However, the violence would not have broken out had he not been there. 'We support Irish freedom ... the only way the British are going to leave Ireland is for the fight to be successful,' Galvin says – seemingly cleaving to the old republican shibboleth as seeing the British as an entirely external force and ignoring the inconvenient presence of a million unionists. Still, it is revealing to learn that Galvin and other Noraid members are far removed from the misty-eyed Irish-American stereotype. Noraid was largely based in New York, and its members have the hard-bitten qualities of characters from a Scorsese movie. That said, modern Sinn Féin's hipster-Marxist axis won't be thrilled to learn that Noraid expunged any hint of socialism from imported copies of An Phoblacht because that sort of thing would not have gone down well with Irish Americans. Nor do the producers address the uncomfortable fact that Irish America – so keen on the physical force of republicanism – would go on to become a power base for Donald Trump and, thus of 21st century Neo-Fascist. Interviewed today, Galvin is unapologetic and still retains some of the firebrand qualities that are a feature of his archive appearances. The documentary is also careful to point out that while Noraid organised fundraisers for Sinn Féin, it never supplied arms to the Provos. The task of smuggling guns across the Atlantic fell to organised criminals. That story will be told in part two and will touch on the role of Whitey Bulger (as later played on screen by Johnny Depp). But part one provides a fascinating portrait of a crucial element of the struggles – of true believers from across the sea who seemed to fancy themselves more Irish than those in the 26 counties who didn't much care about the Constitutional status of the North, only that people stopped dying. 'What I've found is the diaspora make a serious attempt to understand the Irish culture, whereas a lot of people that are actually from the island of Ireland have never made an attempt to understand the diaspora culture,' says Chris Byrne, a former New York cop and republican sympathiser. It is a reminder few are as committed to the spilling of blood in Ireland as those who never set foot here.

Noraid: ‘They started to run it down from the early 1990s – They said I had an image as an IRA supporter'
Noraid: ‘They started to run it down from the early 1990s – They said I had an image as an IRA supporter'

Irish Times

time06-07-2025

  • Politics
  • Irish Times

Noraid: ‘They started to run it down from the early 1990s – They said I had an image as an IRA supporter'

Ernie O'Malley's pub on East 27th Street in Manhattan, between Lexington and Third, is where those of Irish birth or lineage gather to watch GAA matches from a place many still call 'home'. Next Wednesday, July 9th, however, the pub will be crowded not to watch GAA, but for RTE's latest documentary, Noraid : Irish America and the IRA, the story of Republican fundraising in the United States during the Troubles. Now ageing, the group will include Martin Galvin, Noraid's public face for decades; New York cab-driver, newspaper editor and radio presenter John McDonagh; and Father Pat Moloney, jailed for four years for a 1993 Brinks Mat heist, which he still denies. The documentary, directed by Kevin Brannigan, evocatively captures New York in the 1970s and 1980s, and the controversies surrounding an organisation blamed by the Irish and British governments, and by Washington, for raising money for IRA weapons. READ MORE Throughout the two-part documentary, the organisation's members agree on a few points – the proper title of the organisation was never Noraid but, rather, Irish Northern Aid and it never bought IRA guns. Irish-American members of Noraid protesting in New York in the 1980s Few outside the organisation have ever, or will ever, call it Irish Northern Aid, however, while few among two generations of Irish, British and US police and intelligence figures will ever accept its denials about weapons. Galvin adamantly rejects the allegations, however, pointing out that it was investigated repeatedly by the FBI and others: 'I would have been put in jail, if that was the case,' he tells The Irish Times. Equally, British intelligence had its own eyes inside Noraid since Sinn Féin figure, Denis Donaldson, outed nearly two decades later as a British informer, worked with it in New York in the early 1990s. Martin Galvin in New York in 2024. Photograph: Faolan Carey '[He] had our books open. If we were sending money back, or it was being diverted to IRA, that would have been passed on,' Galvin goes on, insisting that the money raised went, as it always said it did, to families of those affected by the Troubles. IRA figures involved in buying US weaponry, such as Gabriel Megahey or John 'The Yank' Crawley – who was later jailed for the foiled 1984 arms smuggling attempt on board the Marita Ann trawler – agree. If anything, they were told to stay away from Noraid because it would bring them to attention. Donaldson, killed later at a cottage in Donegal by people unknown, features frequently in conversation with Galvin: 'I complained about him. I could see even then that he was an informer. But I was told he had impeccable credentials.' Galvin had quickly suspected him: 'He told people I was a particular target. Then, he'd disappear for a few days and try to undermine anybody associated with me. Then, he was seen drinking with FBI people.' The first episode traces how 1920s anti-Treaty IRA men who quit, or fled, Ireland after the Civil War infused New York's Irish-American community with strong Republican feelings brought to life later with The Troubles. Remembering people such as Michael Flannery, who fought in 1916, John McDonagh says: 'Their hatred of the Free State knew no bounds. It was always, 'Free State', and 'bastards' wasn't long after it.' The second episode traces the impact of the 1981 hunger-strikes and Noraid-organised visits of Irish-Americans to Northern Ireland in the mid-1980s that radicalised opinion across Irish-America. Graphic for RTE documentary on Noraid It tracks, too, Sinn Féin's entry into the top strata of US politics, including White House visits – a process that was first pressed by Noraid calls for a Northern special envoy and a visa for then party leader Gerry Adams. It also maps the volleys of criticism from Garret FitzGerald, Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan and others on both side of the Atlantic and in the press, with Noraid supporters often labelled as misguided, deluded or simply supporting evil. 'We always got a fair shot from The Irish Times and [the newspaper's Washington Correspondent until 1992] Sean Cronin [who was the IRA's Chief of Staff during part of the 1950s Border Campaign],' Galvin says. Today, Noraid is a pale shadow of its former self. People still give it 'money in their wills', says Galvin, which is used for a few student bursaries and to help anyone 'being victimised today because of their involvement in the struggle'. Blacklisted for years, Galvin and others now get invited to official Irish Government events hosted by the Irish Consulate-General in Manhattan and get briefings from the Department of Foreign Affairs. [ Irish unification would cost €152m annually to give Northern Irish civil servants pay parity, report says Opens in new window ] If, however, relations with 'official' Ireland have warmed, ties with Sinn Féin have gone in the other direction – with Noraid pushed into the background and replaced by its New York-headquartered Friends of Sinn Féin. Galvin tries not to sound hurt but it is clear that he is: 'They started to run it down from the early 1990s. I was told that I was to stand back. 'We want to go in a different direction,' they said. 'They told me that I had an image as a supporter of the IRA, which I had, and that they wanted to go in a different direction,' he says. 'It was actually more difficult to step back than it had been to step forward. 'No individual is that important,' he says, with a shrug. Looking back, one senses regret in Galvin, not in his interest in Northern Ireland, his support for the IRA or his involvement in Noraid since the 1970s but, rather, at the cost it inflicted on his own life. He had joined Noraid hoping that he would not attract 'a lot of publicity' because he was then 'an assistant district attorney, a prosecutor, if you will'. He goes on: 'That was a path to a judgeship. That's what I wanted to do.' If Galvin is diplomatic, John McDonagh is not. For years, he interviewed Sinn Féin figures on his New York radio show when they were not allowed on the airwaves in the Republic of Ireland or the UK, along with editing The Irish People newspaper. One of the first signs of changing winds from Ireland came, he says, when Sinn Féin ordered an Irish pipe band in Philadelphia who had long worn berets, black ties and black jackets that they could not 'dress like that any more'. 'Sinn Féin came over, shut down everything. They traded in Irish Republicans in New York for Wall Street Republicans. They're the only Republicans that Sinn Féin want to hear about. They don't want to hear about Irish Republicans.' People who had 'carried the movement during good and hard times in New York were just jettisoned right off the bat', says McDonagh, who speaks with humour in his voice but the bitterness underneath is palpable. Neither is convinced that a United Ireland is coming soon or, perhaps, at all. Galvin wants a referendum but not one in 2030, while the British now just 'smile indulgently as if this is something that is never going to happen'. If it does, Galvin is not convinced that it would be fairly fought, believing that nationalist voters would be threatened with the loss of pension benefits and other losses if they vote for unity. Typically, McDonagh is blunter. [ 'People don't care that much': Frustrated sighs audible as students asked the 'British or Irish' question Opens in new window ] 'Listen, I've been listening to bulls**t in New York since the 1990s. Joe Cahill [the late IRA chief of staff] told me personally: 'We're getting the prisoners out and we're going to have a united Ireland in about five, 10 years.' He came and went. 'Then, Martin McGuinness said: 'We're going to have it in the next 10 years.' That went nowhere. Then, Gerry Adams said it would be in 2016, on the 100th anniversary of the Rising. That didn't happen. 'Now, we've Mary Lou coming out. Now, it's not a United Ireland because the tone has changed. It's a shared or an agreed Ireland. That's the semantics and the wording now. Everything's getting very fuzzy. 'The one thing I have found out is you can't defeat human nature. The people who get into power turn exactly into the people they just turfed out.' So, would he do it all again if he had the chance to roll the clock back 50 years? Just for a moment, he pauses, before recalling a conversation with senior IRA bomber and hunger-striker, the late Brendan 'Dark' Hughes. 'I asked him the same question as you have. 'Brendan, would you have got involved knowing how it ended?' He said, 'I wouldn't have got out of bed'. 'There are a lot of people who feel that way,' he goes on. Do Noraid people meet up now? 'At a freaking funeral home on Queens Boulevard, when they die. They're the only meetings you're going to get,' he replies, drily. Bar Ernie O'Malley's on Wednesday. Noraid: Irish America & the IRA begins Wednesday, July 9th, 9.35pm on RTÉ One

The Indo Daily: Noraid- The IRA and Sinn Féin's American funding wing - where all those dollars went
The Indo Daily: Noraid- The IRA and Sinn Féin's American funding wing - where all those dollars went

Irish Independent

time22-06-2025

  • Politics
  • Irish Independent

The Indo Daily: Noraid- The IRA and Sinn Féin's American funding wing - where all those dollars went

From lavish dinners to buckets in Irish pubs in the US, Noraid members collected millions of dollars for the republican cause. But the question was always: where did the money go? Did it – as claimed – go to help support the families of imprisoned IRA members or did it go towards buying arms? And if it did, were Noraid members involved in gun-running? RTÉ is set to broadcast a two-part documentary Noraid: Irish-America and the IRA. This series looks at how Irish-Americans helped to keep the Provisional IRA's armed campaign going, but also ultimately brought it to a conclusion. It was written and directed by Kevin Brannigan – he joined Ciarán Dunbar on The BelTel. Today's Indo Daily podcast comes from our sister podcast The BelTel.

Noraid: The story of the IRA, Sinn Féin's American wing, Martin Galvin, and where the money went
Noraid: The story of the IRA, Sinn Féin's American wing, Martin Galvin, and where the money went

Belfast Telegraph

time16-06-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Belfast Telegraph

Noraid: The story of the IRA, Sinn Féin's American wing, Martin Galvin, and where the money went

From lavish dinners to buckets in Irish pubs in the US, they collected millions of dollars for the republican cause. But the question was always – where did the money go? Did it – as claimed – go to help support the families of imprisoned IRA members or did it go towards buying arms? And if it did – were Noraid members involved in gunrunning? RTÉ is set to run a two-part documentary Noraid: Irish-America and the IRA. This series looks at how Irish-Americans helped to keep the Provisional IRA's armed campaign going, but also ultimately brought it to a conclusion. It was written and directed by Kevin Brannigan – he joined Ciarán Dunbar on the BelTel.

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