Enniskillen bomb was ‘false flag’, author of new book says

New book challenges historic account

On November 8, 1987, hundreds gathered in Enniskillen for a Remembrance Sunday ceremony. Mothers held the hands of children dressed in their best clothes. Uniformed musicians stood beside the cenotaph, tuning their instruments. Friends exchanged hushed greetings, some perhaps not having seen one another since the previous Sunday.

Then, at 10:43am, minutes before the ceremony was due to begin, an explosion tore through the crowd.

Security forces had searched the route of the planned military parade but failed to search St Michael’s Reading Rooms beside the East Bridge.

The 40lb (18kg) bomb, allegedly made in Ballinamore, had been brought to Enniskillen overnight in a sports bag and left against the building’s gable wall. The explosion caused the wall to collapse on the people below.

Eleven people, including three married couples, died on or immediately after the bombing. A 12th victim, Ronnie Hill, died 13 years later after remaining in a coma. Dozens more were injured, some suffering life-changing wounds.

Nearly four decades on, author Dermot McMonagle says he cannot accept the bombing’s traditional account.

Unacceptable

“I am of the opinion, and researched opinion, that it was done with the influence of forces outside the IRA,” he says.

Asked whether he believes the bombing was a staged attack - what would now commonly be described as associated with a “false flag” operation - McMonagle is unequivocal.

“Yeah, well, that is correct.”

The claim places McMonagle at odds with the established historical account, which has long attributed the bombing to members of the Provisional IRA, specifically its West Fermanagh Brigade, which was subsequently stood down.

In his new self published book, Ireland’s Divide: A History, The Troubles & Enniskillen Remembrance Day Bombing, due in October, McMonagle sets out a case assembled over years of archival research and conversations with people connected to security in the region at the time.

His interest in the bombing is inseparable from the place where he grew up.

“I remember the day. It affected me very deeply because Enniskillen was very close to my own family,” says the Ballyconnell native.

Border ties

For those living along it, the border was more than a line on a map. It shaped roads, trade, policing and daily life, even as people continued to cross it for work, sport, business and friendship.

On the day of the bombing, McMonagle remembers asking himself: “Did the IRA really do this?”

Conversations over the years with people connected to policing and the security forces did little to settle his doubts.

One particularly influential figure was former District Superintendent Tom Curran.

McMonagle recalls the late superintendent telling him during “long conversations” that he did not believe the IRA would have placed two bombs in the same area on the same day - referring to Enniskillen and a device at Tullyhommon.

Hours after the Enniskillen bombing, someone purporting to speak on behalf of the IRA called a radio station to say it had abandoned a 150lb (68kg) bomb at Tullyhommon after it failed to detonate.

“When the British Army announced that it was a 40-pound bomb that blew in Enniskillen,” McMonagle recalls, Suptintendent Curran “put it into just plain language. A 40-pound bomb, as the IRA was making at the time, wouldn’t blow your nose.”

A different reading

McMonagle’s argument about Enniskillen forms part of a broader challenge to how the conflict has been understood.

“Why was it kept going, and for what reason?” he asks. “The Troubles lasted longer than the Iron Curtain.”

His research, he says, brought him into contact with people who describe a complicated world of Republican and Loyalist paramilitaries, security forces and clandestine intelligence operations.

“I got into the nitty-gritty of the coercion between Loyalists, old Army men, new Army men, what was it that was keeping it going.”

The book draws partly on official records and partly on accounts from people who spoke on condition of anonymity. McMonagle describes some of the information as “privileged”.

The picture he presents, he argues, is of a conflict considerably more complicated than the accepted narrative suggests.

“It was a long, dirty and murky war,” he writes, “in the hands of ‘out of control’ armies, which has left much to be untangled.”

Media

McMonagle also challenges how the conflict was reported. He argues that restrictions on broadcasting Republican voices left the public with an incomplete picture.

“All that we were left with was to accept whatever the British Army and armed forces...”

“Crown forces,” comes the correction.

“Crown forces,” McMonagle agrees.

“Therefore, it wasn’t balanced.”

He believes the restrictions had wider consequences.

“Who did it benefit to keep it going?” he asks, before making another striking claim: “I’ve heard a lot from — I know it’s stated in my book - journalists in the North of Ireland knew more than the police ever did.”

Curiosity

The book does not begin with the Enniskillen bombing. It begins with a child trying to understand how, only miles from his front door, a country could be divided. McMonagle recalls his mother saying the border had been founded on “a lie”.

“Confusing!” he recalls. “One could tell a lie and hear a lie, but how could you see it?”

Eventually, he could. Roads were blocked. Security installations rose above the surrounding landscape. Customs officers searched car boots and used mirrors to inspect undercarriages. The divide became more visible. Mistrust grew, even as cross-border ties endured.

Some of McMonagle’s research took him to Windsor Castle.

In 2016, he spent a week examining historical documents relating to Ireland, the monarchy and the Third Home Rule Bill.

“I was very lucky to get to do some research in Windsor Castle on the King’s documents,” he says.

The material appears in the book’s appendices.

The experience also left him with a memorable impression of the archive staff.

“I was treated royally,” he quips, “with much respect and curiosity.”

Painful truths

McMonagle also spoke with people who witnessed violence first-hand.

Some memories, he says, were “painful to hear”.

“For them, words were often difficult to find when recalling such traumas.”

He believes those voices matter, particularly as questions remain about the extent to which British Army intelligence had infiltrated senior levels of the IRA, what it knew about planned operations and what, if anything, was allowed to proceed.

“Hard questions are now asked,” he writes, “and more remain to be asked.”

Yet he believes the peace that followed the Good Friday Agreement has created space for old relationships to return.

“Thankfully, the trust and respect of old are returning,” he says. “There was never any reason for innocent blood to be shed on our island.”