Michael Phillips ✍ I bumped into my traitor one day in Belfast.
It was unexpected, to say the least. I wouldn’t be overly confident the feeling was mutual, though. The only significant indicator that he wasn’t acting alone was his sudden appearance and equally strange exit. The surprise encounter naturally blindsided me. 1–0 to him.
His initial reaction to our encounter did, however, tell me he knows that I know. Apologies for being overly enigmatic at this point, so just bear with me. Despite knowing it was bound to happen sooner or later, I was left feeling unusually vulnerable and chastised myself for it later. I’ve simulated the experience many times in my head and therefore run through the whole gamut of emotions one would expect from a friend who had planned to put a bullet in your head.
And not just me. I’m not that special. He could have made it 2–0 earlier had it not been for their ineptitude.
The point being, I decided on the spot that it wouldn’t serve any purpose raging about it, cursing him or making a scene. Besides, he possesses powers of invincibility and would make a suitable character in Marvel’s anti-hero series The Boys. As well as being adept at deception, his range of superpowers includes resisting public humiliation, shrugging off defamation, surviving demotion and possessing no discernible moral compass. Basically, nothing sticks.
The rest of our short conversation revealed little of any tangible substance about our impromptu meeting, if there actually was one. He is quite skilled and manipulative, but his armour can be pierced. Every anti-hero has an Achille’s heel, naturally, and his kryptonite is talking.
It may seem counter-intuitive for a traitor, but he is a seasoned, competent speaker. On the other hand, he tends to shift from subject to subject in the same breath, in what is known as ‘cognitive load management’. He also frequently steers the conversation towards safer ground with familiar topics. It’s a technique referred to as ‘strategic redirection’ and helps bring the listener in closer.
Those near and dear to him might appreciate these peculiar traits as dynamic, a bit nuts, random, quirky. In reality, it’s being evasive and deceptive for those who understand the game.
As we said our goodbyes, he invited me for a coffee. Funnily enough, I was expecting this, since I’d been informed, he had employed this tactic before.
And that is exactly what I did next.
I felt a touch of apprehension, as I had no idea what I was walking into. Acts of betrayal have that effect on friends. I was quite intrigued by his behaviour at this point. I certainly wasn’t poking around for ‘evidence’ of his guilt, nor was I trying to provoke him into letting his mask slip. That’s Amateur Hour.
There’s a bigger picture, which I’ll return to later.
He’s in the driving seat here, and I was the lone passenger along for the ride, wondering where the hell we were going.
My visit to his office on this occasion was a surprise to him. We’re 1–1 now. He couldn’t mask it, but he was afforded a few minutes to compose himself while I waited for him to join me. His manner was more relaxed, but we still went through a similar dance routine to the first time around: shifting subjects, walks down memory lane. I got a personal tour of his office.
Unfortunately, the coffee bar was closed.
On a personal note, a couple of things grabbed my attention.
When he mentioned another person in a certain context, he used the term ‘one of us’, and I thought it was a fascinating reference. I was relishing the idea of quipping that he was, in fact, a very unique individual, but I let him carry on. I saw it as a ruse to retreat to his safe space.
Another incongruous matter was the way he dealt with a person in our presence. He plied them with exaggerated compliments, and it suddenly reminded me why so many people blindly appreciate the respect and adulation he confers upon them.
It’s so much harder to suspect a nice guy of treachery.
I wasn’t searching for the truth because I’m absolutely convinced that even if forced to observe the physical torture of a family member, my traitor wouldn’t blink twice. I’ve come to terms with what he is and can take an educated guess at his raison d’être.
Ultimately, he carries around a gargantuan, egocentric sense of himself that you will not see externally, since his survival utterly depends upon it.
In My Traitor, the novel, the protagonist Antoine is shocked by the revelations that his friend and mentor, Meehan, is a tout, but eventually learns to accept the contradiction. It really appears he captured the essence of those entangled in close proximity to traitors.
Whilst the book is based on reality, I found a glitch in Antoine’s psychology that undermines his supposed loss and profound disappointment in humanity. He was an outsider, got manipulated by a conman and, when confronted with the hard facts, continued to believe Meehan was a redeemable character.
Doubtless, Antoine demonstrates motivated reasoning, clinging to Meehan because of the significant fear that accepting the truth may reflect on his own deeper character flaws. It was a devastating mistake in any case, and one many of us could make if left to face similar circumstances.
My curiosity, rather, has evolved from those Republicans who are behaving like Antoine by accepting the contradiction of this agent and his co-sponsors. The difference, though, is that many of them know or suspect reality is being twisted around them, yet they continue to provide moral and physical support for these agents.
To add further insult, my traitor picked up the equivalent of Charlie’s Golden Ticket and could have tiptoed off to start a new life elsewhere. Instead, the leadership wholeheartedly welcomed him back into their arms, which are apparently as wide as the Mississippi.
No wonder he feels like ‘one of us’ and confidently struts around the Republican communities he once wrought murder and mayhem upon.
Much has been discussed, argued and speculated over informers continuing to clock into work in the North, but one question begs a proper answer, and it’s nothing to do with their dark arts.
They’re just doing what their British masters trained them for.
After 30 years of peace, leading Republicans demonstrate an irrational willingness to shed these critical tools of betrayal, regardless of the mountain of material currently stacking up against them.
Why?
The Dark was right.
And finally, if you’re reading this, you still owe me a coffee.
His initial reaction to our encounter did, however, tell me he knows that I know. Apologies for being overly enigmatic at this point, so just bear with me. Despite knowing it was bound to happen sooner or later, I was left feeling unusually vulnerable and chastised myself for it later. I’ve simulated the experience many times in my head and therefore run through the whole gamut of emotions one would expect from a friend who had planned to put a bullet in your head.
And not just me. I’m not that special. He could have made it 2–0 earlier had it not been for their ineptitude.
The point being, I decided on the spot that it wouldn’t serve any purpose raging about it, cursing him or making a scene. Besides, he possesses powers of invincibility and would make a suitable character in Marvel’s anti-hero series The Boys. As well as being adept at deception, his range of superpowers includes resisting public humiliation, shrugging off defamation, surviving demotion and possessing no discernible moral compass. Basically, nothing sticks.
The rest of our short conversation revealed little of any tangible substance about our impromptu meeting, if there actually was one. He is quite skilled and manipulative, but his armour can be pierced. Every anti-hero has an Achille’s heel, naturally, and his kryptonite is talking.
It may seem counter-intuitive for a traitor, but he is a seasoned, competent speaker. On the other hand, he tends to shift from subject to subject in the same breath, in what is known as ‘cognitive load management’. He also frequently steers the conversation towards safer ground with familiar topics. It’s a technique referred to as ‘strategic redirection’ and helps bring the listener in closer.
Those near and dear to him might appreciate these peculiar traits as dynamic, a bit nuts, random, quirky. In reality, it’s being evasive and deceptive for those who understand the game.
As we said our goodbyes, he invited me for a coffee. Funnily enough, I was expecting this, since I’d been informed, he had employed this tactic before.
And that is exactly what I did next.
I felt a touch of apprehension, as I had no idea what I was walking into. Acts of betrayal have that effect on friends. I was quite intrigued by his behaviour at this point. I certainly wasn’t poking around for ‘evidence’ of his guilt, nor was I trying to provoke him into letting his mask slip. That’s Amateur Hour.
There’s a bigger picture, which I’ll return to later.
He’s in the driving seat here, and I was the lone passenger along for the ride, wondering where the hell we were going.
My visit to his office on this occasion was a surprise to him. We’re 1–1 now. He couldn’t mask it, but he was afforded a few minutes to compose himself while I waited for him to join me. His manner was more relaxed, but we still went through a similar dance routine to the first time around: shifting subjects, walks down memory lane. I got a personal tour of his office.
Unfortunately, the coffee bar was closed.
On a personal note, a couple of things grabbed my attention.
When he mentioned another person in a certain context, he used the term ‘one of us’, and I thought it was a fascinating reference. I was relishing the idea of quipping that he was, in fact, a very unique individual, but I let him carry on. I saw it as a ruse to retreat to his safe space.
Another incongruous matter was the way he dealt with a person in our presence. He plied them with exaggerated compliments, and it suddenly reminded me why so many people blindly appreciate the respect and adulation he confers upon them.
It’s so much harder to suspect a nice guy of treachery.
I wasn’t searching for the truth because I’m absolutely convinced that even if forced to observe the physical torture of a family member, my traitor wouldn’t blink twice. I’ve come to terms with what he is and can take an educated guess at his raison d’être.
Ultimately, he carries around a gargantuan, egocentric sense of himself that you will not see externally, since his survival utterly depends upon it.
In My Traitor, the novel, the protagonist Antoine is shocked by the revelations that his friend and mentor, Meehan, is a tout, but eventually learns to accept the contradiction. It really appears he captured the essence of those entangled in close proximity to traitors.
Whilst the book is based on reality, I found a glitch in Antoine’s psychology that undermines his supposed loss and profound disappointment in humanity. He was an outsider, got manipulated by a conman and, when confronted with the hard facts, continued to believe Meehan was a redeemable character.
Doubtless, Antoine demonstrates motivated reasoning, clinging to Meehan because of the significant fear that accepting the truth may reflect on his own deeper character flaws. It was a devastating mistake in any case, and one many of us could make if left to face similar circumstances.
My curiosity, rather, has evolved from those Republicans who are behaving like Antoine by accepting the contradiction of this agent and his co-sponsors. The difference, though, is that many of them know or suspect reality is being twisted around them, yet they continue to provide moral and physical support for these agents.
To add further insult, my traitor picked up the equivalent of Charlie’s Golden Ticket and could have tiptoed off to start a new life elsewhere. Instead, the leadership wholeheartedly welcomed him back into their arms, which are apparently as wide as the Mississippi.
No wonder he feels like ‘one of us’ and confidently struts around the Republican communities he once wrought murder and mayhem upon.
Much has been discussed, argued and speculated over informers continuing to clock into work in the North, but one question begs a proper answer, and it’s nothing to do with their dark arts.
They’re just doing what their British masters trained them for.
After 30 years of peace, leading Republicans demonstrate an irrational willingness to shed these critical tools of betrayal, regardless of the mountain of material currently stacking up against them.
Why?
The Dark was right.
And finally, if you’re reading this, you still owe me a coffee.
⏩Michael Phillips is a former republican prisoner. Keep up with his work.
















