Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland

by Patrick Radden Keefe

Adams acknowledged that there was a “culture of concealment” in Irish life regarding the issue of sexual predation. But he was going public now, he said, to help “other families who are in the same predicament.” On the one hand, this was an astounding turn, and a window into how Adams became the cipher that he did: here was a man who had grown up in a penumbral world of secrets and who had cultivated the quick and unsentimental reflexes of a survivalist. At the same time, some observers detected in this jarring announcement the deft hand of public relations. Áine Tyrrell would later allege that her uncle, whom she called “the Beard,” had urged her not to go public and had done everything in his power to prevent the revelations about Liam from coming out. When he came forward with his own story of growing up in an abusive household, Adams was breaking, belatedly, a code of silence that had allowed abuse to flourish. But why come forward with the story of his father now, days after the exposure of his brother? As one political journalist in Belfast noted, “He must have known, and been advised by his media handlers, that it could move the story on from Liam.” Adams possessed an uncanny grasp of the metabolism of the news media. The new story “would provide a follow-up, give things a new twist,” perhaps even “attract sympathy for Adams.”