Terrorism syndrome

London--The last train from King's Cross was 45 minutes late. A graveyard-shift patrolman announced, "Due to police action the eastbound train will be delayed."

Would-be passengers erupted. "Will there be anymore trains?" demanded one. "Why'd you wait an hour to tell us?" yelled another.

The patrolman shrugged and returned to his station. Ten minutes later the reason for delays was explained: A bomb had exploded in a trash bin near Old Brompton Road on the subway's Circle Line. This time the only casualties were nearby hotel windows. No one immediately claimed responsibility, causing London authorities to question whether it had indeed been the work of the Irish Republican Army.

This incident was not unusual: When the IRA shattered its 17-month ceasefire with an explosion in the Docklands Feb. 9, Londoners rediscovered a nearly-forgotten, pit-in-the-stomach fear. Now the flash of blue lights and din of sirens instantly remind central Londoners that they are again under the terrorist's thumb.

The Docklands episode, which killed two and wounded 100, was particularly unnerving because it took place in a high-rent financial district considered above the fray. Soon after, the IRA promised "25 more years of fighting." So residents are vigilant and Christians especially so: When another bomb went off two weeks later, a nearby gathering of members of Parliament and community leaders that included Christians was quickly transformed into a one-hour prayer session for the city.

The renewed vigilance is everywhere. Scotland Yard's finest man listening posts in machine guns and flak vests at entrances to Heathrow Airport. New cement barricades block areas formerly open to pedestrians near Buckingham Palace. Troops in camouflage fatigues mingle with the familiar red jackets and bearskins of the palace guards outside the queen's residence. Princess Diana, who had become accustomed to going in public without protection, now travels again with a bodyguard.

With a return to stepped-up security and public anxiety, the city is easily brought to its knees. Transportation spokesman Graham Simper illustrates a typical weekday: "Yesterday morning, Westminster [subway station] closed because there was a suspected vehicle outside. Then there was a phone call to say that there were bombs at three stations, but they didn't [sound authentic] and Euston closed but Paddington and King's Cross remained open.

"About 9:30 Liverpool station closed because of a suspected package on the platform, Holborn closed because of a suspected vehicle parked outside, and Waterloo closed because of a suspected item on the platform. At 10:30 Bond Street closed because of a suspected item in the booking hall, and Moorgate closed because of a suspected item on the train."

The next morning rush-hour train service was delayed again when officials became suspicious about a parked car displaying Irish license plates. The car was finally blown up by a bomb squad, then later found to have been innocently parked.

What's different about this latest round of consciousness-raising activity on the part of the IRA is that, so far, it's largely been confined to London. Irish members of Parliament insist they want to get on with the business of governing and stop letting terrorists set the agenda.

"The fear factor is there, but things like the Family Law Bill take more precedence right now," Charlie Colchester, a lobbyist who works closely with the Irish MPs, told WORLD. As head of CARE, a Christian organization that provides members of Parliament with interns as well as engaging in some lobbying activities, he says opposition to the divorce liberalization bill is being led by Ulster Unionist parliamentarians.

Now before the House of Commons, the Family Law Bill would allow essentially no-fault divorces to be granted throughout the United Kingdom. Introduced by British Prime Minister John Major's Conservative Party, it has split the party and-to a lesser extent-Christians within it. A few of them favor the bill on the dubious grounds of getting the government out of legislating on family matters. The parliamentary debate thus far belies this libertarian impulse: Opponents forced Public Services Minister Roger Freeman to announce changes to the bill like the divvying-up of pensions between ex-husband and ex-wife.

Mr. Colchester notes: "It's ironic that just when America is waking up to the faults in no-fault divorce that a conservative administration here is trying to introduce it."

The Conservative opposition is being led by three Northern Ireland MPs: Ulster Unionist leader David Trimble, ex-leader Sir James Molyneaux, and Chief Whip Martin Smith. Normally caught up in campaigning for Northern Ireland's continued alliance with the U.K., they are voicing the will of the people of Northern Ireland, Mr. Colchester says, that IRA activities be downplayed. "And they are unequivocally outspoken for the family," he said.

In both parts of Ireland support for what the Unionists are doing on the Family Law Bill crosses denominational lines, and Mr. Colchester says, "It's terribly important to understand the kind of cross-church communication that is going on." It's an indication, he says, that the overwhelming majority want peace for Belfast.

"Even to characterize the conflict as between Roman Catholics and Protestants is wrong," said Mr. Colchester. "The men of violence know they will never represent any kind of majority. There is no substantial number who will vote for Sinn Fein or the IRA."

Mr. Major last week announced elections for Northern Ireland will be held next month for a 110-seat forum that is supposed to be a stepping stone toward all-party peace talks starting on June 10. The election process includes a compromise favored by Sinn Fein and other separatist factions. But whether the IRA or its political wing, Sinn Fein, will be included in the talks will depend on whether they lay down arms between now and then.

Does the terrorist fear intrude on the parliamentarians working in the middle of Westminster? "When some bombs go off from time to time that is just the way of it," Mr. Colchester shrugged. "There is nothing anybody can do about it."