Britain Gambles on Peace

IT was a dramatic turn in the endless, blood-drenched conflict between Britain and Ireland, Protestant and Catholic. It was also the boldest step of British Prime Minister Edward Heath's career. In a daring attempt to end the terror in Northern Ireland, he last week imposed direct rule by London on that troubled province. Hoping to break "the vicious circle of violence and yet more violence," Heath suspended for at least a year the Protestant-dominated government at Stormont, which has ruled Ulster since 1921. For Catholics, it was the most significant victory yet won for political equality. But in ending home rule, he ran the huge risk of entangling Britain even more deeply in Ulster's troubles and loosing new legions of communal furies.

Heath's immediate aim was to pacify Ulster's 500,000 Catholics and thus dry up their support of the outlawed Irish Republican Army. At week's end, though, the urgent question was whether Heath's proposals--or any others that would satisfy Ulster's Catholics --might provoke a long-feared uprising by Northern Ireland's 1,000,000 Protestants.

Jackboot Unionism. Protesting what they regarded as a sellout, 6,000 Protestant shipyard workers walked off their jobs and marched on Belfast's city hall, carrying Union Jacks and the red cross flag of Ulster. William Craig, the right-wing former Home Minister who heads the militant Ulster Vanguard, warned that "Ulster is closer to civil war today than it was yesterday." He called for a massive, two-day strike this week by Protestant workers who man Ulster's public services, and vowed that the shutdown would be only the beginning. "We have the power to make government in this country impossible," he declared.

Moderate Catholic leaders, although fearful of the Protestant reaction, voiced a predominant mood of relief that they were no longer governed by the Protestant Unionist Party at the Parliament in Stormont. "Catholics have lost the feel of jackboot Unionism," exulted Gerry Fitt, leader of the Social and Democratic Labor Party. If that mood continued and if the Protestants could be restrained, there was a chance that Heath, with a little bit of luck, might win his gamble.

Clearly some dramatic stroke had been needed to halt the campaign of I.R.A. bombings, which reached a bloody climax in Belfast last week. There, pedestrians crowding a busy shopping street sought refuge in a narrow thoroughfare after police received a series of telephoned warnings that a bomb was due to go off in a nearby street. Suddenly 100 Ibs. of gelignite exploded--not where it had been said to be, but in a car parked amid the fleeing shoppers. In the heaviest daylight toll to date, six were killed and 146 injured. Two days later, another bomb exploded, near the Great Victoria Street Railway Station, wrecking passenger cars, shattering every window in one entire side of the nearby Europa hotel, Belfast's newest, and injuring 70.

Against that backdrop in Ulster, Heath prepared in London to unveil his long-awaited new policy for Northern Ireland. Some proposals had already been announced: "an active, permanent and guaranteed place" for Ulster's Catholics in the government of Northern Ireland, massive economic aid to ease unemployment, and a gradual phasing down of the internment of I.R.A. suspects without trial, which had, more than anything else, infuriated the Catholic community. What had not been known was that Heath had also decided to place the police--up till now responsible to Stormont--as well as the army directly under Westminster.

Flying in from Belfast, Northern Ireland's tough, pragmatic Prime Minister Brian Faulkner first learned the contents of Heath's package. He accepted in principle an easing of internment, and Heath's plan for periodic plebiscites on Ulster's political future (the results are entirely predictable, since the Protestants have a 2-to-1 majority). But Faulkner balked at a London takeover of Ulster's security, and for nine hours argued that it would make Stormont "a mere sham and face-saving charade." Faulkner flew back to Belfast and then, with Cabinet backing, returned to London, where he formally rejected Heath's proposals. The Prime Minister had no choice now but to impose direct rule.

The Commons met next morning

Protestants, Heath carefully pointed out that Stormont was not being abolished, merely prorogued, a step that preserved intact a constitutional guarantee that Ulster's status would not be changed without the approval of the local Parliament. But that right of approval will be Stormont's only power.

As of this week, when Brit ain's Parliament passes en abling legislation and Faulkner officially resigns, the Northern Ireland government will be run by a Cabinet member from London.

Labor Party Leader Harold Wilson, apprised in advance of Heath's plans, pledged "full support," ensuring swift passage in the Commons. But Ulster's eight Unionist Tory M.P.s declared their opposition.

Captain Lawrence Orr de scribed Heath's plan as an "act of folly," and James Molyneaux charged that the Prime Minister had "done a Munich." The Unionists' opposition raised the possibility that they might retaliate by withholding their support on Common Market legis lation, thereby cutting into the Prime Minister's dan gerously thin majority on that issue. The Rev. Ian Paisley, a fiery Protestant leader and M.P., called from the Tory benches for complete integration of Northern Ireland and the United Kingdom. Right-wing Tories immediately cabled Queen Elizabeth, who was attending inde pendence-day celebrations on the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean, to pro test the "betrayal of your loyal Ulster subjects."

Curiously, one Ulster M.P. who said not a word was firebrand Catholic Bernadette Devlin. In the Commons, reported TIME Correspondent Honor Balfour, "she slumped like the dormouse in Alice on the Labor benches, and merely watched the proceedings through her spaniel hair."

The new Secretary of State for Northern Ireland--who surely has the most thankless job in Britain--is an old and closely trusted friend of Heath's: William ("Willie") Whitelaw, 53, the former chief Tory whip in the House of Commons. A Scottish landowner, a former officer in the Scots Guards and a Cambridge graduate, Whitelaw is neither an intellectual nor an orator. But he does bring to the job a reputation for common sense, compassion, political skill and, obviously, courage.

By installing his own proconsul for Belfast, Heath instantly altered the calculations of all concerned. For the I.R.A. it was a short-run victory in its long-run struggle to bring about the reunification of all Ireland. By I.R.A. reasoning, direct rule will mean an open confrontation with Britain -- a necessary step in the terrorists' campaign to get the British out of Ireland entirely.

Confirming as much, the chief of staff of the I.R.A.'s militant Provisional wing, Sean MacStiofain, promised an "even more direct conflict with the British army." In Belfast, though, one local I.R.A. leader called for a one-month truce.

Now that Ulster is governed by Lon don, the I.R.A. could conceivably carry its terror to England in a repetition of the Aldershot army camp bombing of last February. Even though such a cam paign would be sporadic at best, Faulk ner called direct rule a "sinister and de pressing message" to the I.R.A. that "violence can pay. If Belfast is to bow to violence today, where will it be next?

Birmingham? Battersea?"

Midnight Talks. The answer de pends in large part on Ulster's -- and the rest of Ireland's -- Catholics. If they take Heath's move as evidence of good faith, the I.R.A. could be deprived of popular support. Ireland's Prime Min ister Jack Lynch last week welcomed the British decision "as a step forward in seeking a lasting solution to the re maining problem in Anglo-Irish rela tions." Northern Ireland's Catholic op position, the Social and Democratic Labor Party, which has demanded an end to internment as its price for COoperation, welcomed Heath's move. Two S.D.L.P. leaders called for an end to terrorism "in order to make a positive response to the British government's proposals."

But in appeasing the Catholics, Heath had unavoidably offended the Protestants, now deprived of the political dominance they had historically enjoyed through Stormont. At best they might accept sullenly the decision and continue the remarkable restraint that they have shown up to now in the face of I.R.A. violence. At worst they could follow the I.R.A.'s example and mount a campaign of violence against the Catholic population. That would bring them into conflict with British troops--and launch a replay in reverse of the sorry scenario of the past six months.

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