Guns and iron bars rule in paramilitary land

There's the obvious stuff you can see on the Shankill and the Springfield Road: the murals, the litter, the "peace line", the pubs, the sectarian hatred. Then there's the unseen iron rule of the paramilitaries.

The law doesn't count for much in communities where no one has a TV license because the vans just get burnt. So the "organisations" rule, largely by fear. There's the UFF/UDA with their lucrative drugs trade on the Loyalist side and the IRA with their virulent crusade against drugs, joyriding and gluesniffing controlling the Republican territory.

You won't see much. Perhaps the odd twitch of a curtain if you're nosying around one of the estates. Or a dagger-like glare and speedy subject change if you chat, even in very general terms, about the organisations in a public place. Then there's the slightly less subtle: "I can't tell you that. I'll get shot dead," if you dig too deep in private.

But the shady "secrets" are common knowledge. Everyone knows. Everyone knows the few hundred square yards of freshly levelled earth on the Lower Shankill estate were "the drugs flats" until they were knocked down in late January. And that Catholic kids would sneak across from the Springfield Road for their cannabis and ecstasy, unafraid of sectarian attacks because everyone knew what they'd come for: the IRA is so hard on drugs they're more difficult to get hold of in Republican areas. Even to a Loyalist paramilitary group like the UDA, business is business.

In Republican territory, everyone knows what happens to you if the Provies, as the Provisional IRA are called, catch you dealing drugs, joyriding or "touting" to the RUC or anyone else. First you get "lifted" - taken from your home or the street, interrogated and threatened. You're probably offered a timeframe in which to amend your behaviour. If you continue to offend, punishments vary in severity. There's a straight shooting. Then there's a "six pack" -shots in the hands, knees and ankles. Then there's a severe beating with an iron bar. Theoretically you can only be shot ifyou're over eighteen, but people can tell of it happening to teenagers as young as thirteen or fourteen.

On the Shankill, few long-time residents would be unable to point out the house of the jailed UFF commander Johnny Adair from a bus passing the Lower Shankill estate. I've heard it's full of cameras, thick doors, massive ornaments, wadges of cash... But then again, not everything you hear is true in a community where gossip and rumour create an intelligence network the secret services would be proud of.

No one really seems to mind you knowing most of it. It's just not them that told you.

Michael and Jon: "They stick needles up your fingernails"

Michael (20) and Jon (17) are members of the Catholic Reaction Force, a 'hood' of guys - "A squad who everybody fucking fears," as Jon puts it. They tell me they're labelled as joyriders and gluesniffers: "And we're not saying we haven't done it," Michael adds. I suggest they give me their names: "We'd be dead!" they laugh in response. They won't let me tape their voices. Michael does most of the talking, but says even having the things he says written down makes him nervous.

OTN: So have you been in trouble for things like joyriding and gluesniffing?
Michael: A couple of our friends have been 'dealt with' by the IRA.

OTN: What does 'dealt with' mean?
Michael: One got shot recently, about three weeks ago.

OTN: Where did they shoot him?
Michael: "Up into the feet."

OTN: What for?
Michael: The same thing, standing about on corners, glue-sniffing, joyriding. He was doing it in the area. He wasn't covering his face.

OTN: What happened to him?
Michael: He was in a barber's shop, having his hair cut. The IRA came in and put a hood over his head and they took him away to a safe house. They gave him a cup of tea first, then they interrogated him. They lie you on your back, tie you down, and put a soaking towel over your face so you can't breathe. They were trying to get names of drug dealers and joy riders out of him.

OTN: Where did they actually shoot him?
Michael: In the bottom of an entry - an alleyway.

OTN: Did they have masks on?
Michael: They wouldn't have had masks on. It was in broad daylight, it was on the main road, but nobody's going to say anything, because it's the Ra.
Jon: They pull your toenails out, they stick needles up your fingernails [He giggles]. I'm laughing, but it's fucking awful.
Michael: He's stoned.

OTN: So if joyriding's so risky, why do people do it?
Michael: It's fun. It's a buzz. There's nothing else to do. It's a thing that's always going to happen.

OTN: How did you get involved with the CRF?
Michael: It happened when I started hanging out with gluesniffers. That's where all the fun was. And then I moved up in the ranks.

OTN: Has the area changed much over the last few years?
Michael: It isn't like it used to be. It's changed over the last few years. People used to do whatever they liked. Where we stand, the CRF stronghold, there would have been 30 people with take-outs, sniffing glue, stealing cars. Gradually it just died down - up to a year ago. That's when the local people really started taking the law into their own hands.

OTN: Why do you think that happened then?
Michael: They're more interested in their fucking politics than their people. They drive around saying 'get away from the corner, you hoodies, you glue-sniffing bastards.'

OTN: What about the RUC, what do you think of them?
Michael: Don't like 'em. They're just the same. Baiting you, fucking harrassing you. I ask what else they like doing.

Michael says he likes dance and trance music, is into DJing and has now got his own decks. It's given him something to do instead of burgling, taking drugs and sniffing glue:

Michael: I've tried everything else, but I've never tried coke. If I could get it I would, but you can't get it here.

OTN: How easy is it to get drugs here?
Michael: It's not as easy as it used to be. People are getting shot for drug dealing.

OTN: And where did you used to target for burglaries?
Michael: It wasn't in this area. Anywhere on the outskirts. All the big, posh houses.

OTN: What did you spend the money on?
Michael: Glue, drugs and drink.

OTN: Were you addicted to glue?
Michael: Yes, very much. I did it for at least 5 years. It's very addictive. It's the best high you'll ever get. And if you sniff glue and take an e, or acid, it's even better. You're always wanting a better high.

OTN: Why did you stop?
Michael: I had to stop it for a while. The paranoia sets in. You can't socialise. You'll be walking down the street and you think everyone's talking about you.

OTN: Do you think things are likely to get better here?
Michael: They'll get it to die down for a while, but you'll always get somebody getting a punishment beating."

We chat for a while. They want to know about London, they don't meet many people from elsewhere. As I leave, Michael shakes my hand. "It's been nice meeting you," he says.

February 2001

Steve: "If you smoke blow you get beat up by the Provies"

Steve is 16. He's lived on the republican side of the Springfield Road peace line all his life and likes dance and rave music. We chat about his life.

OTN: Do you like living here?
Steve: No.

OTN: What don't you like about living here?
Steve: Everything.

OTN: What's the worst thing?
Steve: People I don't like.

OTN: Which people?
Steve: I don't want to say their names.

OTN: Do you mean the Protestants over the wall?
Steve: No, not just that. No. They're alright. It's just men that no one wants, like.

OTN: Have you had any trouble with them?
Steve: If you smoke blow, you get beat up by the Provies.

OTN: Has that happened to people you know?
Steve: People's got shot.

OTN: So what do you do to have fun?
Steve: Just run about going mad. Smoke blow, get a carryout or something. Go to parties and free houses.

OTN: What about the guys over the wall?
Steve: Most of 'em are alright like. You can't really say anything about 'em if you don't know 'em. It doesn't make a difference what they are or who they are.

OTN: Would you like to get to know them?
Steve: Wouldn't mind.

OTN: Have you got any friends that live across the wall?
Steve: No.

OTN: What do you think when people talk about peace in Northern Ireland? Do you think there's peace?
Steve: Mostly, aye. Except for the Provies. They never leave us alone. Whatever happens around the IRA, we get blamed, even if we didn't do it. It's always the older ones that get the blame. People from different parts come in and do whatever it is, joyriding and all that… We don't even know who they are and we get the blame for it. They say 'who is it that doing it?' and if you don't know then they say 'well, you're doing it'. Then if you don't know who's doing it, then you just get the blame.

OTN: Does that mean you're scared to do a lot of things?
Steve: No.

OTN: Are you scared of them?
Steve: No. They put me on curfew, and I didn't do it. I had to be home at half seven every night. I'm not going to let them run my life.

OTN: How did they tell you you were on curfew?
Steve: They told me that after half seven I was getting beat up.

OTN: Do you think there's anything that could be done to stop things like that happening?
Steve: Don't do it, and then it won't happen.

OTN: Is that what you do?
Steve: Aye, but you have to enjoy your life, and there's nothing about here to do. There's nothing at all.

OTN: What was it like here when you were younger?
Steve: Can't remember. That's what cannabis does to you.

OTN: Do you smoke a lot?
Steve: Every night.

OTN: What happens when you smoke?
Steve: You feel happy. You feel good about yourself all the time when you're on it. You hit the munchies and you run into a shop - get a Chinese or something.

OTN: What's it like when it wears off?
Steve: You just go and get more.

OTN: What would you tell people from outside, who don't know what it's like here? Steve: It's crap. It is but. There's nothing else to say about it.

Graeme: "... then they'll give you another kicking for saying yes"

Steve's mate Graeme, also 16, has lived in the area all his life too.

OTN: Do you like living here?
Graeme: It's crap. There's nothing to do. It's just you wander about and do nothing all day. It's shit.

OTN: Anything else you don't like?
Graeme: All the Provies. They do ma head in, so they do. The way they go on and on at yous. You don't do nothing but they come up to you and try and beat it out of you, even if you didn't do nothing. And if you say no they'll beat it out of you some more, and then you'll have to say yes. And then they'll give you another kicking for saying yes. And then if you tout they'll give you another kicking for touting. So either way you're fucked.

OTN: What sort of things would they do that for?
Graeme: If something goes missing, or somebody's house gots broken into, they'd go to us. If a car got stolen or something like that.

OTN: Do they always know what you're doing?
Graeme: Aye, they know all our names. They have all our names down on a piece of paper, on a sheet of paper going around. They know everything so they do. There's people talking, letting loose. Spies. [Laughs].

OTN: What do you do when you get bored?
Graeme: Same thing that he does. Get stoned.

OTN: Are you stoned now?
Graeme: No.

OTN: When did you last smoke?
Graeme: When was it? This morning? About an hour ago.

Gary: "He got caught breaking into a house, and got tied to a lamp-post"

Punishments happen in Loyalist areas too. I hear of one recently kneecapped teenager who was caught burgling a house, and also meet Gary, aged 13, from the Shankill Road area, describes what happened to a local boy caught burgling a house.

OTN: What happens when people get in trouble here?
Gary: There's one wee lad. I'm not going to mention his name. He got caught breaking into a house, and got tied to a lamp-post and they had a sign on him saying "beware, housebreaker". The paramilitaries did it. The police had to come and cut him out, because no one else was allowed to cut him out or they would have got shot. The police were the only people who were ever allowed to do it.

OTN: What did they tie him there with?
Gary: Plastic straps. They put it through a wee hole and pull it tight. Nothing else can get it off, you have to cut them. He was meant to stay there for three hours, but he was there for an hour and fifteen minutes, then the police came and cut him down. That was it, they just let him go.

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