We don't believe that winning elections and winning any amount of

Opening Scene

The rain had begun to fall, tapping gently against the small, fogged-up window. Outside, the streets of the city were shrouded in a mist, the only sounds the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional rumble of thunder. The dim light from a single lamp filled the room, casting long shadows over the cluttered table in front of Jack. He leaned back in his chair, the edges of his coat still damp from the rain, his expression somber. Jeeny stood by the window, her back to him, her gaze fixed on the world outside, lost in thought.

Host: The atmosphere was thick with the weight of the day, and though the rain softened the noise of the world outside, inside, the tension was palpable. Jeeny’s voice, soft but firm, cut through the stillness.

Jeeny: “You ever think about how much it really takes to win freedom, Jack? Martin McGuinness once said, ‘We don’t believe that winning elections and winning any amount of votes will win freedom in Ireland. At the end of the day, it will be the cutting edge of the IRA which will bring freedom.’ It makes me wonder… does freedom really come through bloodshed, or is there another way?”

Jack: Chuckles, his voice tinged with cynicism. “Winning elections doesn’t seem to be the answer, Jeeny. Look at all the promises politicians make, only to go back on them once they’re in power. But do I think violence is the answer? No, I don’t. The IRA and their cutting edge might have had their reasons, but how many lives were lost in the process? How many innocent people caught in the crossfire?”

Host: The silence stretches for a moment, only the soft sound of the rain providing a distant rhythm. Jeeny’s voice, though quieter, carries a weight of conviction.

Jeeny: “But Jack, isn’t there something to be said for action when nothing else works? Sometimes, words aren’t enough. Sometimes, the world doesn’t change until forces are at work, forces that demand attention. Maybe McGuinness was right — maybe it’s the cutting edge, the actions that shake the foundations, that make people listen. Maybe it’s not about the elections or the votes, but about power.”

Jack: He leans forward, his eyes hardening slightly as he looks at her. “Power? At what cost? You can’t tell me that the violence, the suffering, was ever worth it. At the end of the day, how many people really gained freedom from all of that? Freedom isn’t just about winning through force. It’s about finding a way to live together, to build something that lasts without destroying everything else.”

Host: The rain continues to pour, a quiet background to their growing tension. Jeeny turns slightly, her gaze shifting toward Jack, but her expression remains steady.

Jeeny: “But what if there was no other choice, Jack? What if peaceful protest, elections, and all the other methods you’re talking about had already been tried, and they didn’t work? What if Ireland was just too deeply divided, too entrenched in conflict for anything else to succeed? McGuinness wasn’t talking about violence for the sake of it. He was talking about the struggle for a country that had been denied its rights for centuries. At some point, isn’t action necessary?”

Jack: Shakes his head, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Action is necessary, Jeeny. But there’s always a better way than violence. There has to be. We can’t keep going in cycles of bloodshed and revenge, because that just creates more hate. Freedom can’t be built on the bodies of the innocent. If we keep fighting in the same way, we’ll never break the cycle.”

Host: The air is thick with the weight of their words, the rain beating down harder now as though the weather itself was reflecting the storm within. Jack’s voice drops a little, his expression softer but still filled with unease.

Jack: “I get why McGuinness would say something like that. Desperation can lead to dangerous places. But at what point do we stop justifying the costs? At what point do we ask ourselves if the price is worth the freedom we seek?”

Jeeny: She takes a deep breath, her voice quieter but filled with a calm resolve. “Maybe the price is never worth it, Jack. But in a world that’s been broken, sometimes freedom is earned through sacrifice. McGuinness didn’t just speak for the IRA — he spoke for all those who had nothing left to lose, who felt that their voices would never be heard unless they forced them to be.”

Host: The room feels heavy, the quiet now broken only by the sound of the rain. Outside, the world continues to move, the darkness of the evening descending over the city. The weight of their conversation lingers in the air, but there is a moment of stillness between them, as if they’re both coming to terms with the complexity of the question.

Jeeny: “I’m not saying I agree with everything the IRA did, Jack. I’m not saying that violence is the answer. But there’s something to be said for the fire that drives people when they’re desperate for change. Freedom isn’t just about the methods — it’s about the willingness to fight for what you believe in, even when the odds are stacked against you.”

Jack: Pauses, his face softer now as he reflects. “I understand that, Jeeny. I really do. But I just wonder, sometimes, how much further we could’ve gone without all the bloodshed. How much more we could’ve accomplished if we’d tried harder to understand each other.”

Host: The rain begins to slow, its rhythm now almost gentle, as though the world is settling into a quieter moment. Jack leans back in his chair, his eyes distant as he processes Jeeny’s words. There’s a quiet realization in the room now, a shift in their understanding, even if they don’t fully agree.

Jeeny: “Maybe we’ll never know. But that’s the price of freedom, isn’t it? The choices we make, the consequences we face, and the paths we’re forced to take.”

Host: The evening settles into a quiet peace, the storm outside subsiding, leaving behind a sense of contemplation. Their conversation has reached its own uneasy silence, but it feels like a place of shared understanding. The weight of history lingers, but for now, they are left with the quiet question of what freedom really costs, and what it truly takes to achieve it.

End.