Monday, Jun. 12, 1995

AFTERLIFE OF VIOLENCE

By BARRY HILLENBRAND/BELFAST

Patrick Teer was a child of war, brought into the world just as the Troubles were transforming his Roman Catholic neighborhood of North Belfast into a battle zone. Yet Teer, now 20, relishes the memories from those turbulent times. He recounts the "fun" of throwing rocks at the British patrols, the drama of street demonstrations and the exhilaration of getting chased by cops. "There was always something going on in those days," he recalls. And unless luck turned sour, kids like Teer survived with their body unscathed. Their futures, however, were more precarious.

In 1981 Teer was photographed as he watched the funeral of a neighbor killed in a clash with British troops. A picture of Teer -- his face troubled by a forlorn and vulnerable look -- appeared on the cover of an issue of TIME dealing with the effects of war on children around the world. Teer still has that same lost expression today, but added to it is a tinge of fear. Last February he was abducted from in front of his home, held blindfolded for 24 hours and then severely beaten. His abductors thrust Teer's legs through the pickets of a wrought-iron fence to immobilize them and then proceeded to batter his limbs with steel pipes. When the ambulance arrived 20 minutes later, he was covered with blood. His left leg was broken in four places. His right leg, the shinbone sticking through the skin, was so swollen that the bars of the fence had to be cut away to release him.

Teer was the victim of a "punishment beating," a form of thuggery long practiced by both the Catholic Irish Republican Army and the Protestant Loyalist paramilitaries. The beatings are used to enforce discipline within their ranks and to combat what they self-righteously call antisocial behavior in their respective communities. Before last August's cease-fire that ended the bombings and shootings in Northern Ireland, the I.R.A. and the Loyalist hard men meted out their punishments by shooting their victims through the knees or ankles. Those grisly crimes blended into the general backdrop of violence, causing only muted outrage. But the 100-plus punishment beatings administered since the cease-fire have become a major focus of attention. They raise doubts about the sincerity of the vow taken by both the I.R.A. and the Protestant paramilitaries to give up their violent ways. "This is still terrorism," says a social worker from West Belfast who deals with young people. "Only now they are terrorizing their own communities."

Politicians from both Catholic and Protestant communities hedge their condemnations of this violence. "We are opposed to punishment beatings, and will not condone them," says Martin McGuinness, second-in-command of Sinn Fein, the I.R.A.'s political wing. "But the reality is that the community is demanding action against criminals." Even the police admit the vigilantes have a measure of popular support. Crime is a growing worry in some neighborhoods of Belfast and other cities, and citizens are unwilling to turn to the police, who are deeply distrusted. "There is no doubt that some people -- not the majority -- approve of the beatings," says Chief Inspector Peter Kane of the Royal Ulster Constabulary. "In some areas, especially those plagued by joyriders or drug dealers, they are popular. But you can't call what is handed out justice, by any means."

Patrick Teer knows that only too well. Clearly traumatized by the beating, Teer and his family refuse to talk about the motivation behind it. They will not even hint at who might be responsible. But it is widely known by police and others in Belfast that Teer was in the backseat of a stolen car that rammed an auto belonging to an I.R.A. chieftain. For Teer, the arbitrary sentence handed down by an I.R.A. kangaroo court for this careless act of joyriding has resulted in a 5-in. steel pin to hold his shattered left leg together and months of physical therapy.

There is deep hypocrisy in the paramilitaries' alleged concern with crime. Operatives from the I.R.A. and the Ulster Defense Association, one of the leading Protestant paramilitary groups, have long been extorting protection money from construction companies, small businesses and shop owners to finance terrorist activities. Police also accuse the I.R.A. and the U.D.A. of running drugs while making a show of beating up drug dealers. "These rackets are great money spinners for the I.R.A. and the U.D.A.," says Chief Inspector Kane. "They can't give them up now, when money from the community is drying up."

The beatings, however, are more than a misguided attempt at crime control or fund raising. Violence, disguised as crime fighting, is one way the I.R.A. maintains its influence. "The paramilitaries use punishment beatings to fight for social control of the ghetto," says Chris McGimpsey, a Belfast city councilor who represents the Protestant Shankill Road area. "The paramilitaries fear the loss of power now that there is a cease-fire."

Punishment beatings threaten the optimistic mood of peace that prevails in Northern Ireland. "The cease-fire means absolutely nothing to me now," says Mary Teer, Patrick's mother. Until the I.R.A. and the Protestant paramilitaries give up their vicious beatings, the legacy of the years of violence will continue to haunt Northern Ireland, and the faces of the children of war will continue to show fear.