How pub brawl turned into republican crisis Angelique Chrisafis, Ireland correspondent Monday February 28, 2005 The Guardian Who will be next? said the placard carried by the McCartney family  yesterday as they were clapped and cheered to a makeshift platform  outside the Short Strand shops in east Belfast. The IRA were once the respected protectors of this small nationalist  enclave in the city, where 3,000 Catholics are still protected by  "peace" walls from the 60,000 Protestants surrounding them. But yesterday afternoon, as 1,000 people gathered in protest at the  murder of Robert McCartney at a bar last month, apparently by members  of the IRA, trust in the organisation had run out. A movement once known as the Ra was being called the "Rafia" - the lies  it has told about the killing compared to those the British army  "continue to tell about Bloody Sunday" said some locals, and the local  IRA commander was angrily confronted to give his men up. For republicans to kill an innocent man and one of their own community  was shock enough. But the cover-up, intimidation and lies which  residents said continued this weekend, despite an IRA statement  expelling three of those involved, had badly damaged their standing. People once proud of republicans for fighting for justice for all, were  uniting against what they said was the reality of "peacetime"  paramilitarism: a local "Goodfellas gang" which residents said has been  out of control for years, involved in paedophilia, attempted rape and  domestic violence - in one case branding a woman on her breast with a  steam iron. The murder of Robert McCartney was the last straw. Yet despite Sinn  Féin leader Gerry Adams' calls for republicans to go to court to  testify and the three expulsions, the guilty men were still being  sheltered. In the front room of a terrace house, Robert McCartney's five sisters  and fiancée sat trying to keep his two confused sons, aged two and  four, from overhearing the grim details of what happened a month ago in  Magennis's bar. They are unlikely folk heroes. The family have always voted Sinn Féin,  and yesterday again paid tribute to the sacrifices IRA members and  "true republicans" had made to protect their community from loyalists,  the old RUC and the British army. Yet they vowed they would not give up  until the IRA "came clean" and made sure the dozen of its members they  believe to be involved in the killing are tried. The sisters have not slept for several nights. Paula McCartney, 40, a  women's studies student, who is considering standing as an independent  councillor in Short Strand, said she has not yet cried. "We can't  afford sentiment at the minute," she said. If grief was allowed to take  its natural course, the whole campaign would collapse. The sisters have a clear view of the sequence of events told to them by  witnesses while their brother lay in hospital - a version which they  say the IRA has tried to muddy with a whispering campaign and its own  highly selective version of events released on Friday night. It was a Sunday night. Robert McCartney, 33, a forklift driver, was  having a drink with an old friend. A number of IRA men who had come  from the Bloody Sunday commemorations in Derry were drinking at the  bar. According to the McCartney family, a senior IRA man accused Mr  McCartney of making a rude gesture to his wife. He denied this, but his  friend, Brendan Devine, offered to buy the women and her friends a  drink to apologise. This wasn't enough for the senior republican, who  asked McCartney: "Do you know who I am?" McCartney, who also worked part-time as a bouncer to save for his  wedding, was described locally as a diplomat, a diffuser of rows. He  knew exactly who the man was, but did not apologise, saying he hadn't  done anything wrong. A row ensued. A bottle was smashed, and used to  slash Brendan Devine's throat. McCartney and Devine stumbled out of the pub. Devine told his friend to  run but he wouldn't leave him. At this point, a friend of Mr  McCartney's called his mobile. He heard smashing glass, Devine shouting  "I never touched anyone" and a woman begging the attackers to stop. The family believe around 15 people followed the two men out of the  pub. McCartney and Devine were beaten with plastic and iron sewer rods  and slashed from their neck to their navel with knives, said to have  been taken from the pub kitchen. McCartney was kicked and his head  stamped on. Some witnesses have said a gun was produced. McCartney lost  an eye in the beating. The family said the perpetrators left the men for dead, went back to  the pub, locked the door, conducted a forensic clean-up operation in  which evidence and CCTV footage were removed. "They closed the doors and said: 'Nobody saw anything; this is IRA  business'," says Paula McCartney. No ambulance was called. The men were picked up by a police patrol.  Devine survived. McCartney died in hospital. One month on, of 70 witnesses in the pub, none has come forward with a  full account of what they saw. Most tell the family they were in the  toilet at the crucial moment. So many people have said they were in the  small toilet at the time, the cubicle is now known as "the Tardis". The family and other Short Strand residents blame the continuing IRA  intimidation of witnesses. The sisters said the men they believe were  responsible were walking around the area "as normal, going in and out  of shops, getting themselves a carry-out, going into the bookies,  saying hello to people and saying hello to the family". Catherine McCartney, a teacher, said last week one of the alleged  killers, a senior republican, stood openly in the street in long  conversation with a key witness. "Their presence is intimidation  enough," she said. The family disagree with the version of events presented in an IRA  statement released on Friday night and described as "pure damage  limitation". Even after the IRA expelled three members on Friday night,  many in the Short Strand feel the men are still under protection from  the organisation and it is not safe to speak out. When Gerry Adams last week carefully referred to the McCartney killing  as "murder or manslaughter", the family said the insertion of the "wee  word manslaughter" was part of a quest to "dilute the severity" of the  murder, which has caused far more grassroots damage to Sinn Féin than  allegations over the £26.5m Northern Bank raid. The family said suggestions that they were setting out to damage Sinn  Féin politically were laughable. "What have we got to gain from damaging Sinn Féin, especially when we  voted for them?" asked Paula McCartney. "Robert's murderers were the  ones who damaged Sinn Féin so let's keep the blame where the blame  belongs."