The Crumlin Drimnagh Feud Documentary

THEY STARTED OUT as most criminals do robbing cars, joyriding and getting involved in petty thieving. They were boyhood friends and neighbours. They had gone to the same primary school, and those that continued in education also ended up in the same secondary school. They were a tight group around ten friends who were fiercely loyal and protective of each other. If you took on one, you took them all on. That was the way it was. The Crumlin and Drimnagh area towards the end of the 1990s was a tough place. Notorious criminals like The General, Martin Cahill; The Viper, Martin Foley; Seamus Shavo Hogan and Dublins original drug baron, Larry Dunne, all hailed from the area. Crumlin and Drimnagh are often referred to as the home of organised crime in Ireland. Many in the local community treated these old-school gangsters like Robin Hood type figures. The gang looked up to these men, admired their lifestyles and made a vow that one day they would be like them and would have what they had one way or another. Their chance came earlier than they anticipated. In 1996, Sunday Independent journalist Veronica Guerin was murdered at the behest of John Gilligan, the country s biggest drug importer. An unprecedented wave of public outrage followed, and the government made Gilligan its public enemy number one. A massive Garda investigation put Gilligan and his gang out of business, and almost overnight a major vacuum developed in Dublin s gangland. The gang had started working for John Gilligan a few years before his downfall and had started to move up the drug-dealing ladder. With Gilligan permanently out of the way, the young and eager gang was perfectly positioned to take over, and did so with gusto. The gang developed contacts with two Irish expatriates in Spain and then with contacts further afield. They built up a supply line and began importing millions of euro worth of cocaine, heroin and ecstasy into the capital. As sweeteners, and to show their appreciation to the gang for its business, the foreign suppliers threw in dozens of high-powered weapons with each shipment. The mob began to make tens of thousands of euro each week dealing drugs, and had soon conquered the market around Crumlin, Drimnagh and Dublin s south inner city. Two separate groups formed, with Brian Rattigan leading one faction, and Fat Freddie Thompson taking over the other. Over the next nine years, sixteen, people would lose their lives as part of the feud, either directly or indirectly the average victim being just twenty-three years old. The falling out of old friends quickly became the deadliest gangland feud in the history of the state. Gardaí struggled to keep on top of hostilities, with literally hundreds of tit-for-tat incidents being recorded. The Gardaí s dedication and hard work undoubtedly saved lives, but the accepted rule in the area of never co-operating with the police made the detectives lives very difficult, and they were always fighting to keep a lid on the feud. The deep hatred that the two rival gangs had for each other made the frequent peace efforts futile.

The feud did not just have an impact on the lives of the dead victims; dozens of other lives have been permanently destroyed. From the innocent residents caught up in attacks of mistaken identity to the relatives of feuding criminals becoming virtual prisoners in their own homes, unable to even drop their children to school because of the very real fear that they could be attacked and murdered, it is a feud that has driven a deep wedge in what was once a very close-knit community. Many of the criminals who were central players also desperately tried to get out but found that they were in too far. One notorious hit man took to driving around Dublin dressed as a woman, so he wouldn't be recognised and shot. While the money man for one of the mobs managed to evade the law and invest hundreds of thousands of euro in property, he wasn't able to escape a bullet to the head from his own gang. For the first time, the story is told of how one gang leader orchestrated murders from the comfort of his prison cell, with only his beloved pet budgie for company. The Crumlin/Drimnagh feud has changed the political landscape in Ireland. It has resulted in one Justice Minister nearly having to fall on his sword because of an illconceived remark. It has directly led to a crack anti-gangland Garda unit being formed and the introduction of draconian legislation to allow Gardaí to permanently take feuding criminals off the street. Towards the end of the 1980s, Larry Dunne spoke to Gardaí about the next generation of criminals. He said: If you think we re bad, wait until you see what s coming behind us. This quote has never been more apt. The Crumlin/Drimnagh feud has given the area an undeserved notoriety and divided what once was a strongly united community.