This revelation has led to some consternation in the media, with the unionist newspaper the Belfast News Letter leading with this headline on Wednesday: SHOCK AS DISSIDENT SUPPORT REVEALED.

The story is currently listed as the Most Popular Story on the News Letter’s online homepage.

Professor Jon Tonge of the University of Liverpool was involved in crafting the questions about dissident violence, which were part of the 2010 Northern Ireland General Election Survey.

The survey was completed three weeks after the end of the general election in May and carried out by Northern Ireland Market Research. It was comprised of 1002 face-to-face interviews, including 429 with nationalists, 508 with unionists, and 37 with Others.

Tonge said that his research team were taken off guard by the results, as reflected in the title of his own editorial contribution to the News Letter, ‘Surprising Level of Sympathy for Perpetrators.’

Tonge has also told the media, and those of us at the conference today, that these results indicate that there may be more support for dissident republicans than has been previously supposed. As he wrote in the News Letter,

One of the mantras of the peace process is that ‘dissident’ republicans have no support.

To suggest otherwise risks talking up a disparate, seemingly desperate, band of diehards.

… Yet the assumption that dissidents have no support has been precisely that – an assumption, untroubled by actual evidence either way.

He then goes on to present the results of the survey as if it indicates that there is more support for dissidents than had been supposed.

But I have a problem with the substitution of the word ‘support’ for the word ‘sympathy.’ After all, sympathy was the word which was used in the actual survey questions.

People were asked if they had SYMPATHY FOR THE REASONS why dissidents might use violence, not if they SUPPORTED the dissidents or if they AGREED WITH THE USE OF VIOLENCE.

When challenged on this point by Dr Katy Hayward, a sociologist at Queen’s, at today’s PSAI conference, Tonge said that the research team had deliberately chosen a ‘softer’ question about violence.

They did not want to ask a too-direct question, such as whether or not people supported dissident republican violence, for fear that they would not answer honestly.

Tonge added that they had not expected to find so much sympathy for dissidents’ use of violence. Had they anticipated this, they might have considered formulating follow-up questions that asked more directly about ‘support’ or agreement with the use of violence.

In its coverage of the survey, the Irish Times, at least, included a quote from Tonge saying, “This doesn’t mean there is unequivocal support. It’s important to put in that caveat.”

The BBC avoided the use of the word support and, more accurately, reported on the sympathy.

But  I am troubled by other reporting on the surveys, which uses the word ‘support’ without drawing out the nuances.

One such nuance is that ‘Republican Sinn Fein,’ with a stronger base in the Republic, is better ‘liked’ than the 32-County Sovereignty movement, which has a stronger base in Northern Ireland.

At today’s conference when Dr Paul Dixon of Kingston University pointed out that this seemed odd, Tonge admitted that probably some respondents had gotten their Sinn Feins mixed up and thought they were indicating that they liked Martin McGuinness and Co.

Again, ‘liking’ is not nearly as strong as saying that you ‘support’ a group.

To me, ‘support’ conjures up images of active encouragement and perhaps even participation in a movement. Using the word ‘support’ to describe the results of this survey just distorts the findings.

That was the theme of the first session of the McCluskey Civil Rights Summer School, held on Saturday 28 August at the Heritage Centre in Carlingford, Co. Louth. The Summer School honours the legacy of civil rights leaders Dr Conn and Patricia McCluskey.

It was almost inevitable that the first session would generate heated debate, given that it featured civil rights leader Austin Currie and Danny Morrison, the former Communications Director for Sinn Fein.

Morrison is a careful speaker, who managed mostly to avoid words like ‘inevitable’ and ‘justified’ in his defence of Sinn Fein and the IRA’s joint ‘Armalite and ballot box’ strategy. One of his major claims was that the unionist and British Government responses to the peaceful civil rights protests (which he initially supported) was what ultimately sparked republican violence.

Further, Morrison claimed that it was the pressure of republican violence that allowed constitutional nationalists to argue for meaningful power-sharing and the inclusion of a Council of Ireland in the 1973 Sunningdale Agreement.

Currie, of course, disagreed, arguing that republican violence was in fact a hindrance to negotiations and had prevented the implementation of Sunningdale. He also focused on the role that the Rev. Ian Paisley played in promoting violence – nearly claiming, it seemed to me, that Paisley could be blamed for most of the mayhem that followed the initial civil rights marches.

Currie also raised the question of what were Paisley’s true intentions throughout the Troubles?

Currie said that if history showed that Paisley was not really as bigoted as he had seemed all those years, and that he had finally compromised with Sinn Fein only to gain personal political power, that he should be judged all the more harshly by future generations.

At one point Morrison said that everyone in Ireland bore some responsibility for the Troubles, which provoked an angry reaction from the crowd. Cries of ‘shame’ and ‘not in my name’ stopped him from offering a fuller explanation of what he meant by this.

I don’t agree with the ‘armed struggle,’ and clearly most of the audience didn’t either, but I do think that Morrison had a point and I would have preferred to hear him out. In the study of conflict transformation, one of the common fallacies that usually must be overcome is the idea that it is a few ‘terrorists’ who are causing all the problems.

Generally, even those who do not commit violent acts are in some way supporting, or not challenging, or living in leafy suburbs where they can relatively safely ignore, those who are involved in violence.

That’s an important part to remember when the violence has stopped, and the work of reconciliation has to be done. Reconciliation is not just something for the former combatants, it’s something that ideally has to happen amongst people at all levels of society.

That said, it’s clear from the reaction at the Summer School that questions about whether or not violence was justified can quickly and dramatically and open old wounds. Is Northern Ireland prepared to embark on a ‘Dealing with the Past’ process that could unleash such strong emotions?

As the unionist newspaper the News Letter puts it, ‘Ulster Rejects Eames Bradley Report on the Troubles.’ So is this just another case of ‘Ulster Says No’?

First, I think it’s worth pointing out that the Eames Bradley Report was itself the product of a wide ranging consultation.

The responses that Paterson has published are essentially yet another consultation on a consultation.

The BBC Reports that this second consultation received 174 individual responses, as well as 72 responses from organisations, political parties, academics and medical experts. It summarises,

Of the organisations that gave a clear view on the recommendation, 22 supported it while 15 opposed it. Out of the 174 individual responses, 165 were against the proposal.

It also says,

Out of 174 people who responded to the report, most rejected it in its entirety without comment.

I have to ask how useful a consultation is that doesn’t manage to get many of those who rejected the Report to provide any reasons for doing so, let alone constructive criticisms or alternative suggestions.

Of those who did respond more fully, Paterson notes that this serves mainly to highlight the disagreement and diversity of opinion about what should be done to deal with the past.

It’s hard to know if or how much any of those who responded to the Report were affected by the negative reaction and coverage of one of the report’s recommendations, a £12,000 recognition payment.

Indeed, in an editorial in today’s Belfast Telegraph, Paterson specifically condemns this recommendation,

Discussion of the Eames-Bradley Report was, of course, dominated by the proposal for a £12,000 universal recognition payment.

This Government does not agree with that recommendation and will not be taking it forward. Such payments would make no distinction whatever between the perpetrators of terrorism and their victims.

We cannot — and will never — accept that.

Politically motivated violence, on all sides, was never justified, and we will not be party to a re-write of history in order to give it a spurious legitimacy. We will not compromise our support for the rule of law.

Paterson also said,

Following Saville, there will be no more open-ended and costly inquiries into the past at vast public expense. We will not accept a hierarchy of investigations into the past.

So we know what we won’t be dealing with the past through recognition payments or inquiries. But what will we be doing?

It’s not clear to me that the publication of these responses advances that debate very much, although Paterson identifies some questions that need to be addressed:

• What is the right process for dealing with the past?
• Do we need to do more work on building a shared future before actively confronting what are very painful events?
• How should we spend the limited resources we have on the past when there are so many pressures on current public spending?
• How do we balance investigating the past while ensuring that we effectively police the present and the future?

That last question should take on an even greater urgency given the rioting over the 12^th of July period. For those tempted to dismiss the mayhem, a chilling article from Sunday’s Telegraph bears the tagline, ‘Last week’s riots in Northern Ireland could be the harbinger of a new wave of republican terrorism, with dissident groups recruiting youths who feel betrayed by Stormont.’

It details how Sinn Fein representatives, who previously might have exerted some control over the area, were mocked by the rioting youths, one of whom shouted at Bobby Storey,

"Shove off, old man. … Sure, you sold out your community. Just so that the likes of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness could parade about in posh suits and sit up in Stormont. What do they care about the Ardoyne now? You lot don’t speak for us any more. Why don’t you just f––– off.”

Dealing with the Past and Building a Shared Future – these two processes must be inextricably linked if Northern Ireland is to move beyond its ancient troubles.

But the rounds of consultations Northern Ireland has had on its past and on its future don’t seem to have gotten us very far.

(The full response document can be found here.)

Parts of Little’s story are relatively well-known. It was the basis of a BBC drama featuring Liam Neeson and James Nesbitt, Five Minutes of Heaven. This film presented a fictionalised account of a proposed meeting between Little and the brother of the man he shot dead.

Along with Wilhelm Verwoerd from the Glencree Centre for Reconciliation, Little now teaches a module on Conflict Transformation as part of my School’s Master’s programme.

There’s much in Little’s book that is powerful, not least his accounts of growing up in Lurgan during the Troubles and his reflections on the choices he made which led him to become involved with the UVF.

Little’s not making excuses here, but he is providing a genuine insight into the process that he went through, including the emotive experience of funerals, the pressure from older boys, the thrill of rioting, and tensions in school.

That’s an eye-opener for someone like me who grew up in rural Maine in the US, or even for the middle classes of Northern Ireland who have little insight into life ‘on the ground’ in the toughest areas during the Troubles.

Little, who was just 17 years old when convicted of the murder, served 12 years in Long Kesh and the H-blocks. He provides a harrowing and sometimes surprising account of what he experienced there –uncomfortable reading for those who have thought little about how prisoners were treated during the Troubles.

Little’s prison story includes a religious conversion experience, a phenomenon that is sometimes mocked among loyalists as it carried with it connotations of going soft or ‘using’ religion to get jail time reduced. But Little’s conversion just made life more difficult for him. Acting from Christian conviction, he transferred from Long Kesh to the H-blocks. He writes (p. 108),

‘I’d arrived in the ‘H’ Blocks looking to continue my journey of discovery and personal transformation. Within a short time I’d become an angry and hate-filled man. … I was furious with this system that couldn’t recognise and support anyone who was trying to move away from violence, and didn’t care what happened to people.’

Little’s story also highlights the complex role that religion has played in Northern Ireland’s conflict. For example, Little is clear that the rhetoric of the Rev Ian Paisley was inspiring to him when he turned to violence. But Little also writes of the transformative effect of the Christian women who visited him in prison: Mrs Blackthorn from his hometown and a Quaker, Marty Rafferty.

For me, one of the most moving passages in the book was when Little recounted the story of a conversation between Marty and a prison officer (p. 108),

‘Later I learned that Marty had asked the prisoner officer who I was. ‘That’s your man, Little. Do you hear the hatred and bitterness in him? He’s a nasty piece of work.’

‘That’s not what I heard,’ replied Marty. ‘I hear pain and hurt.’

Little says he initially resisted having those ‘weak’ emotions applied to him. But Marty’s reframing of his story illustrates the potential that can be unleashed when someone helps another think about their own story in a different – and eventually transformative – way.

The book also details Little’s struggles on release from prison, including his experience of post traumatic stress and the challenge of having his peacebuilding work accepted as a worthy pursuit for an ex-prisoner.

Little reminds us that there are many in our society who believe that those who committed overtly violent acts during the Troubles should be socially stigmatised and psychologically tormented indefinitely. Further, he criticises a culture of snobbery that permeates some academic approaches to conflict transformation work. He writes in the concluding chapter (p. 221),

‘I understand why others believe I’ve no right to any positive quality of life, but I know too that through my struggles to understand my own history, I’ve learnt so much. The skills and insights I’ve acquired through that journey have been and remain a source of healing for many men and women, both victims and perpetrators. As I continue in this work, maybe those who hear my story will not begrudge me experiences of grace.’

As Northern Ireland continues to struggle to come to terms with its past, I wonder what some former paramilitaries can teach us about grace – and if we are willing to listen?

An elderly man was injured in the explosion. Police said they received no prior warning about the bomb, although they had begun to evacuate residents before it exploded. The press-ganged taxi driver, whose family had been held hostage, exited his car shouting that there was a bomb.

It goes without saying that we are at a place now in Northern Ireland’s political story where all political parties, including Sinn Fein, have condemned the bomb and say that there is no place in Northern Ireland for such acts.

The BBC’s Mark Simpson summed it up this way,

On a day when a new political era is starting at Stormont, dissident republicans wanted to highlight one of the weaknesses the peace process – the threat of further violence.

The truth is the police suspected something might happen this week.

The reality is that they were not able to stop it.

That will be food for thought for Stormont’s new justice minister.

The Alliance Party’s David Ford is expected to be confirmed as the Justice Minister later today.

Dissident republican groups seem to have become more visible in the last few months. Living in West Belfast, I’m especially aware of this, as we’ve had ‘white line protests’ of late, as well as significant dissident presences at the recent Easter commemorations.

That’s not to mention more violent acts by the various groups, such as the maiming of PSNI officer Peadar Heffron, the murder of Constable Stephen Carroll, etc.

In an intriguing interview on the Steven Nolan show on April 2, PSNI Chief Constable Matt Baggott, who has been a president of the Christian police association, said that he has prayed for dissident republicans, adding that he asked God to,

"take the scales from the eyes" of those who were engaged in a "cycle of violence and anger".

Baggot also spoke to a dissident supporter who phoned in, saying,

"You are obviously a very angry man and I’m sure there are things that have happened in the past that have made you angry and I respect that.

"But when I go to the graduation ceremonies of new recruits, many of whom are Catholic young people doing a fantastic job, they are not joining the PSNI to be part of a British war machine, they are joining to be the impartial guardians of your family and your young people’s future.

"The PSNI does not swear allegiance to the Queen, it swears allegiance to the people of Northern Ireland or the North of Ireland, however you want to call it.

But no matter Baggott’s personal faith, and as Baggott would certainly acknowledge, prayer isn’t going to be the preferred policy option when it comes to dealing with dissidents.

One again, this latest explosion forces us to ask questions about just how our justice system, our police, and we as a society should respond to the dissidents.

Round them up like criminals? Bring them into political dialogue? People in Northern Ireland have asked those questions before.

But there’s a difference now. Today, Northern Ireland Secretary Shaun Woodward said that the dissidents ‘have no support anywhere.’

And in condemning the attack, Sinn Fein Deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness said,

"It is a truly historic day – people out there who would like to destroy the peace process are not going to succeed because of the strength of the political process we have built up over recent years."

McGuinness’ comment points to the idea that political and justice processes must move together in tandem. That’s what the dissidents don’t want.

Are the rest of us committed enough to living together to make sure that the dissidents don’t derail our uneasy peace?

So much for ‘homeland security.’ A man who was denied entry to the UK because of security concerns, and whose father tried to alert Western governments about his son’s intentions, almost single-handedly brought down an American passenger jet.

Terrorism will always be with us. This is one of the lessons that Richard English, Professor of Politics at Queen’s University Belfast, makes in his latest book Terrorism: How to Respond (Oxford University Press, 2009).

English’s chief concern is to identify principles policy-makers can apply when attempting to respond to terrorism. These are distilled in the fourth and final chapter of a clearly-written and compact volume in which he also sets himself the tasks of defining terrorism, explaining why people resort to terror, and distilling lessons from terrorism past. (In this his major case study is the IRA, and he casts a sharp and critical eye on British government policies.)

English’s principles may seem deceptively simple:

1. Learn to live with terrorism

2. Where possible, address underlying root problems and causes

3. Avoid the over-militarisation of response

4. Intelligence is the most vital element in successful counter-terrorism

5. Respect orthodox legal frameworks and adhere to the democratically established rule of law

6. Coordinate security-related, financial and technological preventative measures

7. Maintain strong credibility in counter-terrorist public argument

Listing English’s points like this does not do them full justice. Only reading the whole book and seeing how they flow from his historical case studies can do that. English also does not claim that these principles provide a ‘neat solution’ to terrorism (p.143). But he is right in arguing that most of these points have been ignored in the War on Terror. Perhaps it is a case of it is easier said than done, especially in a world in which policy-makers are not above emotional responses to acts of violence. Regardless, it is plain to see how neglecting some of these points can lead to more incidents like that in the skies above Detroit on Christmas Day.

Beyond these practical points, English engages with some of the difficult emotional, moral and intellectual questions that are raised in debates about how to define terrorism. Such arguments have not yet gone away in Northern Ireland, and will continue to rage as people disagree about who were the victims and who were the terrorists during the Troubles. English also delves into the latest research about the psychological make-up of people who decide to use terrorist violence, claiming that terrorist acts usually proceed from rational thought processes in which people see no other viable alternatives.

This all makes for a fascinating read. The writing moves at a brisk pace and is free of academic jargon. Perfect reading for your next flight.