Editor:
For half a century, allegations have swirled around Gerry Adams—often repeated as if the accusations themselves were proof.
But when you follow the record instead of the rhetoric, a stubborn fact remains: the major episodes of interrogation, detention, and litigation most commonly cited to “determine” his guilt have not delivered the definitive findings his critics promise.
Take the most publicized modern detention. In May 2014, Adams was held and questioned for days over the 1972 abduction and killing of Jean McConville, then released without charge.
Whatever one believes about the moral and political history of the era, that outcome matters in a society that allegedly claims to run on evidence, not insinuation. The same evidentiary gap shows up in courtrooms.
Adams has consistently denied IRA membership and involvement in violence; that denial has become so legally consequential that it is now routinely stated as a formal disclaimer in major media portrayals.
And when a broadcaster crossed the line from reporting controversy into presenting a specific, defamatory claim as fact, Adams fought back, not frivolously, but based on facts.
A Dublin jury found the BBC had defamed him and awarded damages over an allegation that he sanctioned the 2006 killing of Denis Donaldson.
Why can the individual win against a conglomerate but the Empire and BBC, with all their respective resources consistently come up empty?
What gets far less attention is the volume of independent scrutiny documenting wrongdoing not by republicans, but by the British state.
The Saville Inquiry of 2010 concluded that the British Army shootings on Bloody Sunday were “unjustified and unjustifiable,” and the then UK prime minister issued an explicit apology.
Multiple investigations and reports have also detailed collusion and impunity problems involving policing and intelligence structures, including the RUC and MI5.
Most recently, Operation Kenova’s final report criticized state agency behavior—including obstruction—and laid bare how informant-handling corroded justice.
And then there’s the political punch in the face. While victims’ families have been told to “move on,” the UK’s Legacy and Reconciliation Act 2023 created a conditional immunity scheme that can only be described, plainly, as an amnesty architecture.
Now, due to immense pressure from families on both sides of the Troubles, they seek to amend it.
At the same time, after legal rulings opened paths to compensation for unlawful detention, governments moved to rewrite rules to block payouts - actions targeted particularly at Adams and others.
You can dislike Adams’s politics and still recognize the double standard: relentless allegation as substitute for proof on one side, and law-engineered impunity on the other.
It's a funny thing that any time Sinn Fein gets a bump in the polls, or there is a growing discussion and media coverage on the reunification of Ireland, you can always count on the British sponsored state media to defame Sinn Fein leadership and/or a frivolous civil or criminal action to steal the headlines for a while in the hopes of delaying the inevitable.
Gerry Adams stepped down as Sinn Fein's President in 2018 after serving in that position since 1983, in part, to remove the distractions that his name, and name only, have caused.
He did so, because he understood that the movement was more important than any one person.
Yet, as we can see, the threat of a united Ireland is such a threat to some, they must do whatever they can to tarnish the old guard.
The tactics haven't changed but have become extremely tedious.
Tiocfaidh ár lá.
Marty Glennon Melville, NY
The writer is an attorney with the law firm Archer Byington, Glennon & Levine, LLP
