The year is 1988, and the conflict between Irish Unionists and Republicans is at its height, with hundreds of bomb attacks and more than 3,000 casualties over the course of 25 years. Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams opines that the IRA has the right to armed struggle, a stance that Conservative British PM Margaret Thatcher equates with endorsing terrorism. So she decided to silence Adams and his accolades by introducing a media ban of their voices.
The presumption was that the voices of “terrorist sympathisers” could coopt unsuspecting and decent citizens. Thatcher asserts: “terrorists should not get the oxygen of publicity”. The problem is that the ban disregarded their image and their words. Journalists could still talk to Sinn Fein leaders and supporters, they just couldn’t use their real voice. So they dubbed their words instead. Stephen Rea reenacts Adams. One of the impromptu voice artists is told off for doing a very good job. Adams and his thugs should sound dispassionate and robotic, it becomes clear. Hilariously, a prominent Sinn Fein member opted to inhale helium “in order to subtract credibility from his statement”. He sounds like Mickey Mouse on narcotics.
The fact that Sinn Fein had about 15% of the vote in Northern Ireland, as well as a few seats in Parliament, did not exempt them from the ban. Thatcher hypocritically claimed that “we [the British government] don’t believe in constraining the media, still less in censorship”, while seeking to discredit, erase and even criminalise the voices of her political enemies. She cynically suggested that the British media should “create amongst themselves a voluntary code of conduct”. John Major was a vocal supporter.
At just 27 minutes and consisting entirely of archive footage (of assemblies, protests and television interviews with leaders from both sides of the political spectrum), The Ban is enlightening, curious and even funny. It wraps up by reminding viewers that “The threat of terrorism continues to be invoked by the British today to censor free speech and the right to protest”. But it stops there, without mentioning who the present-day victims of censorship are. The modern list of “terrorists” is extensive, and the mere suggestion that they not be terrorists could represent a proscription offence. Roisin Agnew’s short documentary opted not to fall into that trap, and avoided going into the nuts and bolts of present-day censorship. Perhaps precisely for that reason, The Ban has not been banned.
The Ban just premiered at CPH:DOX.
