
‘It's thrilling': almost three centuries of the Belfast News Letter go online
Welcome to the pages of the Belfast News Letter, where updates on the French Revolution run alongside adverts for brandy and the American Declaration of Independence was reported as a contemporary event.
The 3 October copy has a special place in newspaper history – it stakes a claim as the oldest surviving edition of the world's longest continuously published English language daily newspaper. In fact, the paper is so old that it predates the UK's switch to the Gregorian calendar. The edition would have been published on 14 October according to modern dating.
For the first time, the News Letter's coverage of the most momentous events of the past three centuries can now be accessed free by anyone with a library pass or an online subscription, after the completion of a project to digitise its surviving editions. Everything from the Crimean war to the Troubles in Northern Ireland are covered, thanks to the joint project between the Northern Ireland Office, the British Library and online platform, Findmypast.
While the earliest editions are austere in appearance, Ben Lowry, the Belfast News Letter's current editor, said they had many of the ingredients of the modern-day newspaper. 'They look so severe that they're like a reminder of an almost ancient age of poverty and hangings,' he said. 'But actually, you see the genesis of newspapers in them. They're full of fun. They have gossip. They have salacious stories.'
The first edition was probably published in 1737, some 60 years before the Act of Union and 175 years before the sinking of the Titanic, a major news event for a paper published in the city where the doomed liner was built.
The American Declaration of Independence, reproduced in its 27 August 1776 edition, featured alongside adverts for books, an appeal for a lost watch and a reward for finding a stolen horse – one guinea for finding it, or three for delivering the horse and thief. Adverts were the only items featuring illustrations at the time. Theft was denoted by woodcut prints of the devil.
It was once thought that its publication of the declaration was a Europe-wide scoop. The editor sneaked a peek at the document as it travelled to London via Northern Ireland – or so the story goes. Like other journalistic stories of triumph, it appears the tale may have grown in the telling. In truth, two London papers, the St James Chronicle and the General Evening Post, had already printed the historic text a week earlier.
While the paper was dominated by world events, even the oldest editions have examples of unusual yarns too good to leave out. The 20 April 1739 edition carried a lengthy piece about a marriage near Dunluce, County Antrim, at which the bride was so drunk she demanded to go to bed the moment the ceremony had been completed, only to fall and break her nose. She was later spotted in bed with a man who was not the groom.
The oldest surviving edition recounts the dramatic tale of an Italian woman who stabbed and killed a man who had been harassing her for 18 months.
The earliest copies ran across just two pages and were largely made up of letters from around the world, or material relayed from other sources. 'There was a lot more censorship during this early period,' said Beth Gaskell, lead curator of news and moving image at the British Library. 'There's a bigger focus on international news and a lot of verbatim reporting of events. There's less opinion because it was dangerous. But that doesn't mean that you don't get these kinds of really interesting stories.'
From 1789, the paper was dominated by the French Revolution, but the news could be a little on the slow side. In the days that followed the storming of the Bastille, an edition stated: 'The French mails, which arrived this morning, brought little of consequence.'
However, accounts of the tumultuous events in Paris appeared later that month, including how 'armed burghers paraded the city, attended by drums, beating to arms', before giving accounts of the storming itself. It described the Bastille's governor 'holding out a white flag and opening one of the gates' before a party entered and were fired upon. It states the governor was later beheaded.
On Thursday 11 April 1912, the paper ran an enthusiastic if lowkey piece on the Titanic's maiden voyage. 'The departure yesterday from Southampton of the newest ocean giant, the Titanic, of the White Star Line, was an event that marks the last note of progress in modern shipbuilding,' it stated. 'A large concourse of people had gathered to speed the vessel on her maiden voyage and she made an impressive picture as she quietly glided in brilliant sunshine.'
Just five days later, it ran what looked like a modern-day headline, albeit on page seven. 'The Titanic sunk. Collision with iceberg,' it declared. '1,500 lives lost.' In a sign of the printing timeframes, the front page of the same edition ran an advert for White Star Line and its 'triple screw' steamers, including the Titanic.
The Belfast News Letter was founded by Francis Joy, a lawyer and notary. His death was recorded in the paper in 1790, but he had the misfortune to die just as the paper carried a lengthy obituary of Benjamin Franklin, one of America's founding fathers. Joy's passing was given a single sentence.
Lowry said he had not 'given up hope' that more of the oldest editions would be located, but said the new digital archive would open up the existing back catalogue to anyone wanting a glimpse into the past over their morning coffee. 'It is thrilling,' he said. 'It's very important history, but above all, it's very readable and enjoyable history.'
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Telegraph
29 minutes ago
- Telegraph
Recognising Palestine is not only reckless, it may be unlawful
The Government's defeat in court over migrants being housed at the Bell Hotel in Epping seems to have alarmed the Government and shocked some commentators, particularly on the Left. But really it shouldn't. In case anyone else had not noticed, the expansion of judicial review over the years means that judges regularly block ministers from doing things. It usually boils down to whether the court thinks the government is being 'irrational'. Housing migrants in a way that breaches planning laws will have that effect. Other cases might potentially prove the same point. The Prime Minister's move to formally recognise Palestine as a sovereign state, goes beyond political misjudgement. It is administratively incompetent for the UK to recognise a state which has two rival Palestinian governments; in the West Bank where Mahmoud Abbas has not held elections for 20 years and which is in a state of fierce enmity with the terrorists who are the controlling force in Gaza. It is irrational and bitterly inconsistent with British post-war policy to empower Hamas to such an extent that they have been crowing loudly that the recognition being promised is justification for the most murderous pogrom against Jews since the Second World War, their savage slaughter of over a thousand civilians on October 7, 2023. Judicial review allows judges to assess whether a government decision is so irrational or unlawful that it must be struck down. Although not a judicial review, the result at the Bell Hotel appears to fulfil those criteria. This power has actually been expanding for decades. Just recently, a judge allowed a legal challenge to proceed against Home Secretary Yvette Cooper's decision to proscribe Palestine Action as a terrorist group, the first time a court has agreed to review such a designation under the Terrorism Act. Could the courts now intervene in Starmer's decision to recognise Palestine? Traditionally, foreign policy decisions have been protected from judicial interference, resting on ancient royal prerogatives. But that protection may not last for ever. In 2015, a court suggested that if a foreign policy decision was sufficiently irrational, it could be subject to legal review. We may now have reached that point with Palestinian recognition. This is because Starmer wants to recognise a 'state' not only with no clear government, but with no internationally recognised borders, and where any UK diplomatic representative to the new state visiting Gaza would be holding court with a proscribed terror group Hamas, which throws gay people off buildings and keeps hostages in such torturous and starving conditions that even Henry VIII's stomach would have turned. This is not just reckless, it may be unlawful. Worse still, the Prime Minister and his Attorney General, Lord Hermer, have been fixated with international law, or at least their selective understanding of it, to such an extent that they have been blind to the UK's national security interests. Their legal idealism is overriding basic strategic sense. And what's more, instead of focusing on the real issues facing Britain, a faltering economy, a failing welfare state and unsustainable immigration, Starmer is wasting time trying to placate a Parliamentary Labour Party he clearly can't control whilst also giving succour to extremists who have brought sectarian tensions to the streets of the UK for nearly two years now. If no one challenges the recognition of a Palestinian state in court, it will not be because it is a sound decision. It would probably just be because no one has raised the money to initiate the challenge. And I wouldn't place a bet on that. If it does get tested in court the Prime Minister may find himself embarrassed, and not for the first time.


The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
At 19 I had to flee my country, afraid for my life – without even saying goodbye to my family
For three days, Mohanad had been lost at sea in an overcrowded wooden boat. Travelling across the Mediterranean from Libya to Europe, he and the other passengers had run out of food and water, were running out of fuel, and had mixed their remaining sugar with sea water to see if they could drink it. 'It was madness,' he says. Weak and exhausted, passengers began drifting in and out of consciousness. Mohanad kept waking up an Ethiopian man – who was nearer the edge of the boat – worried he might fall in. At night, there were large waves, and Mohanad slept for a while himself, but was woken by a loud splash. People began screaming the Ethiopian man's name. He had slipped over the side into the water. They turned the boat around to look for him, but he had drowned. On the morning of the third day, the sea was calmer, but no land was visible. A white object appeared on the horizon. It got bigger and bigger. When the people on the boat with Mohanad saw the letters MSF (Médecins Sans Frontières) on the side, they got up to shout and cheer. 'I cried,' Mohanad says. He urged the others to calm down, and to think of the women and children on board, as their boat almost capsized in the excitement. The larger vessel was a search and rescue ship called Geo Barents, which was operated by MSF. On board, they were given nutritional supplements and water, before being taken to a migrant centre in Bari, on the coast of southern Italy. Mohanad was overwhelmed with relief, and says it was like being born again. 'I just kept remembering, I'm not going to go back to Libya.' His hope on arriving in Europe was simple: that he would start to be 'treated as a human'. Mohanad grew up in Darfur, in Sudan. His family are Zaghawa – one of the non-Arab ethnic groups in Sudan, targeted by both government forces and armed militia. 'In my country, there's a massive amount of discrimination,' he says, describing the persecution his people have faced. The Janjaweed militia, which evolved into the Rapid Support Forces, has carried out mass killings and ethnic cleansing in his region. 'They don't just murder people, it's the way they do it,' Mohanad says – describing rape, mutilation and other UN-documented atrocities. 'Wherever you go, they ask, 'What is your tribe?' That will determine what happens to you, and how you are treated.' Four of his uncles were killed by snipers in an attack on their village when he was a child. 'I witnessed a lot of horrible stuff,' he says. His family escaped on a lorry – he still remembers seeing swollen bodies by the road, and ransacked shops. From then they were often on the move, going from city to camp. He remembers a child who got sick in one of the camps where he lived. The child's mother couldn't afford to pay for basic medicine, so the child died. He also remembers visiting a large hospital, overflowing with patients, but with only one doctor to treat them all. He decided he wanted to become a doctor. Mohanad was clever; his mother had worked as a teacher before the family was displaced, and she encouraged him to attend school wherever they were. He continued to study while he worked to help support his family – selling food, drink, sometimes clothes. When he was 18, he was accepted into a medical school in a town near the camp where they lived. 'I was so excited,' he says. Those first weeks at university were the 'best of my life'. It was a big chance for him – very few people from the camp got to study at this level. But, like others on the course, he was disappointed by the poor teaching, the lack of basic services such as water or electricity, and the focus on subjects such as Arabic studies, at the expense of community medicine, which was covered in only a few days (in other parts of Sudan, the topic was taught over a whole year). 'We said, if they don't teach us properly, we can't help people, it will put lives at risk,' he says. He was threatened by the vice-chancellor, who told him to keep quiet, or he would be 'silenced', but he kept asking for improvements, sending messages to the university, and attending demonstrations with other students. He was arrested twice for taking part in protests in 2018, and, he says, treated more harshly because of his ethnicity. After being detained, 'some people disappear, no one knows what's happened to them, but they are probably dead'. He doesn't want to go into details about the prison he was held in, but says, 'the point is, you will be worried after that'. He knew, once he got out, that he had to leave immediately. He didn't dare to even say goodbye to his family. He was 19. Now the authorities had his details, he was worried he'd be caught at one of the many checkpoints and sent back to prison. 'You have to leave in secret, you have to choose an illegal route, just in order to leave the country. I would never, ever have been allowed to fly, the government would have arrested me.' Mohanad knew a truck driver, who transported sheep, okra, tomatoes and kidney beans. He hid among the vegetables and spent three days travelling from place to place via remote roads, heading north, hiding at every checkpoint, until he made it over the border into Libya. He was unprepared for what he found there. In Libya, Mohanad was kidnapped repeatedly – he lost count of how many times. 'We migrants call it hell on earth,' he says. 'They will capture people and call their family and ask for money.' The first time this happened was not long after he entered the country. He was in the middle of nowhere, in the desert. A man offered to help him, and he said yes, without hesitation – he thought he might die out there. The man took him to a farm, and locked Mohanad up, before transferring him to a place with many others. At this point, he was told he had to pay thousands of dollars to be released. He didn't have that kind of money. So they kept him, and he worked for free, for six months, barely fed, mixing concrete and carrying materials, on a series of building sites. Sometimes other people came on site, like engineers. 'They didn't know we were victims of human traders,' he says. He tried to ask them questions, to find out where they were, but had to do this out of earshot of the gang members. After six months, he escaped by asking one of the visitors for a lift to a nearby town, pretending he wanted to get some cigarettes. He had learned enough of the local dialect to get by, and after this he sometimes managed to evade capture for a few months, but it kept on happening. Sometimes he was caught travelling between cities, sometimes he escaped by bribing the police or jumping out of a car. The kidnappers often began by promising him work. 'Then when you get in their car, they start swearing at you, they show you their pistol, or their machine gun.' He was beaten hard and saw people shot in front of him. 'It's a sequence. If you get lucky you escape, or someone you know pays for you. If not, you may get killed, punished, burned with liquid plastic on your back, or they pull out your nails.' He spent three years in Libya – most of the time trying to get out. Some Sudanese people helped him for a while, offering him food and a place to stay. He applied to the United Nations to be resettled as a refugee. 'If they sent me to another safe African country, I would have gone,' he says. But he waited, and nothing happened, and then he was kidnapped again. After a while, risking the dangerous sea crossing to Europe began to seem like his only hope of escape. 'You have no choice. In Libya you will never be safe, and you can't go home – so going over the sea becomes the least dangerous option.' Mohanad had friends who had died trying to leave Libya – shot while they were trying to escape armed gangs, or drowning at sea. More than once, he was cheated by smugglers – he paid money for a place on a boat, but when he went to meet them, they tipped off another contact, and he was captured again. 'We were just victims of their business … They'd say on the phone, 'I have 70 heads' – they don't even call you people.' It took him a year to save up for that last boat trip. 'The guy, he was OK. He put us on the sea. It was a small boat but there were a lot of people, and it couldn't take us all.' After he arrived in Italy, he was taken to a huge, overcrowded migrant centre near Bari. 'They register you, and they say 'share this room', but there are only eight beds, and 16 or 17 people.' There were people who had been waiting there for months, so a group of them decided to leave – Mohanad took a bus to a border town, where a lot of people were sleeping rough. He spoke to others who hoped things might be better over the border in France. At the border, a French official asked him where he was going, and he said, 'I have no idea.' They gave him a piece of paper saying he had to leave France within three days, and one of the officials suggested going to Paris and on to Calais – he understood that there would be food and help there. At that point, he didn't even know that Calais was on the coast. By then, Mohanad was in a group of seven or eight people, from Sudan, Syria and Chad. They moved through France, sleeping on the streets, travelling on trains without a ticket, until the guard or the police threw them off. Between trains, they wandered around all night, freezing cold, in the rain, searching for shelter. They had a few biscuits from Bari, which soon ran out. In Dijon, the rain fell all night, but they met a kind Nigerian, who gave them food in his own home. 'If I had a chance, I would thank him now, it was an amazing thing that he did for us.' 'We had no idea about claiming to be a refugee or an asylum seeker. No one advised us,' Mohanad says. Other migrants directed them to Calais, where there were charities providing food, but he was sleeping rough – locals threw glass bottles at him and he says he experienced a lot of racism. He discovered that many people there were trying to cross the Channel. 'I just wanted a warm place, a safe place,' he says. French police confiscated any tents they had. Mohanad tried to help some younger Sudanese teenagers, but one of them was killed boarding a truck, and another was badly wounded in an attack. In September 2021, Mohanad crossed to the UK, hidden in a vehicle. He climbed inside, in the early morning – he couldn't see out, but knew when they started driving again that they'd reached England. They stopped in the late afternoon, when the driver began to unload his boxes at a factory near Birmingham. Mohanad jumped out and ran away, because he was worried the driver would be angry. 'The driver was very surprised.' It was a sunny day, and everything looked different – he noticed that people seemed friendlier than in France. He asked a couple of passersby for help, until a woman pushing a buggy showed him the way to the nearest police station. 'I said to them 'Hello, is this a police station?'' he says. 'They said, 'Are you alright? What's the problem, where did you come from?' I said I come from Sudan. I came by lorry.' The absurdity of it makes him smile. 'They were surprised. How did you come from Sudan, and end up in Birmingham?' He says the police were kind and offered him food. At first, he knew nothing about the system here, but after a month, when he was told about the option to claim asylum, Mohanad did so. He spent 15 months in asylum accommodation in Yorkshire, first in hotels and then in a shared house, waiting for a decision. At first, just having somewhere safe to stay and a bed to sleep in was a huge relief, but the uncertainty and not being able to work was unsettling. 'You have nothing to do,' he says. He had flashbacks, and was diagnosed with PTSD. Things improved when he started volunteering with the Refugee Council on a healthcare project, where he was trained to give advice and support to other refugees. This gave him a chance to speak to people, a bit of experience in how the NHS works, and also a sense of purpose. He says he's experienced less racism in the UK than in France or elsewhere. But he never felt fully part of the community until he was granted asylum, and was accepted as a refugee. 'When I got my papers, it was the same feeling as being rescued at sea. I thought, 'Yes, I can live.'' Mohanad found a room, and last year, thanks partly to his experience with the Refugee Council, he enrolled on an access to medicine course. He passed the science elements with a distinction, but struggled to reach the required level in English. For now, he's looking for work as a security guard or in a warehouse, but he still hopes to keep studying medicine, and has also applied to volunteer at a local hospital. Since he left Sudan, the war has spread, and he is worried about his family. 'I know war, it's not something new to me. But to see the whole of Sudan in that pain, you can't describe it. The same militia are killing and murdering and raping people. They took control of my whole region, except for one city. To see the same thing, ethnic killings, genocide …' He says he'd like the world to pay more attention to Sudan. Sudanese refugees who do make it to safety here, against the odds, face hostile policies. 'Now there's a plan to refuse citizenship to refugees,' Mohanad says. 'If I spend my whole life here, I will remain a refugee, a second class or even third class citizen. It feels as if they can just deport me. I started worrying again,' he says. 'They say we have to come here legally – so why don't you provide safe routes?' He says it would be better if there were a realistic way to apply for refugee status before travelling to the UK. There are no schemes to help people from Sudan, he points out, and getting an aeroplane, let alone securing a visa, is impossible for most. He didn't set out to come to the UK, he says – he wanted to stay in Sudan and become a doctor – but that wasn't possible, and he left to save his life. Making this journey is how he survived.


The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
Met police's facial recognition plans fall foul of European law, says watchdog
Scotland Yard's plan to widen the use of controversial live facial recognition technology is unlawful because it is incompatible with European laws, the equalities regulator has claimed. As the UK's biggest force prepares to use instant face-matching cameras at this weekend's Notting Hill carnival, the Equality and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) said its use was intrusive and could have a 'chilling effect' on individuals' rights. The development will be a blow to Mark Rowley, the Metropolitan police commissioner, who has backed the use of the technology at mass events such as this weekend's carnival, when 2 million people are expected to descend upon west London. The EHRC has been given permission to intervene in an upcoming judicial review launched last month by the anti-knife campaigner Shaun Thompson. Thompson, a Black British man, was wrongly identified by live facial recognition (LFR) as a criminal, held by police, then faced demands from officers for his fingerprints. Data seen by the EHRC shows that the number of black men triggering an 'alert' while using the technology is higher than would be expected proportionally, when compared with the population of London, it said. A letter last week from 11 anti-racist and civil liberty organisations, disclosed in the Guardian, urged the Met to scrap the use of the technology over concerns of racial bias and the impending legal challenge. LFR technology captures and analyses the faces of individuals passing in front of real-time CCTV cameras. It extracts unique biometric data from each face and compares it against a 'watchlist' of thousands of people sought by the police. There is at present no specific domestic legislation regulating police use of LFR, with police using common law powers instead. The Met insists that the Equality Act 2010 places legal obligations upon them to eliminate discrimination. The EHRC said that the claim brought forward by Thompson 'raises issues of significant public importance' and will provide submissions 'on the intrusive nature of LFR technology' which focus on the way in which the technology has been used by the police. The Met's policy on LFR technology is unlawful because it is incompatible with articles 8 (right to privacy), 10 (freedom of expression), and 11 (freedom of assembly and association) of the European convention on human rights, the watchdog says. Rebecca Vincent, the interim director of Big Brother Watch, said the EHRC's intervention was 'hugely welcome'. She added: 'The rapid proliferation of invasive live facial recognition technology without any legislation governing its use is one of the most pressing human rights concerns in the UK today. 'Live facial recognition surveillance turns our faces into barcodes and makes us a nation of suspects who, as we've seen in Shaun's case, can be falsely accused, grossly mistreated and forced to prove our innocence to authorities.' John Kirkpatrick, chief executive of the EHRC, said: 'There must be clear rules which guarantee that live facial recognition technology is used only where necessary, proportionate and constrained by appropriate safeguards. We believe that the Metropolitan police's current policy falls short of this standard.' The Met said last month it would deploy specially mounted cameras at entries and exits of the two-day event in west London. Rowley wrote on Tuesday that the technology would target the 'small minority' who commit serious crimes including violence and sexual offences. The Met has been approached for comment.