It May Be Time for the SAS to Speak Up

As Labour moves to repeal the Legacy Act, former special forces personnel face an impossible choice between loyalty and justice.

In the world of special forces, few groups are as revered as the British SAS. Their commitment to secrecy, loyalty, and operational security is legendary. However, the very code that once served to protect them — Omertà, a strict code of silence — has become a double-edged sword for many SAS veterans, especially those involved in operations during the Troubles in Northern Ireland.

Omertà is a principle that has long governed the actions of soldiers in elite military units, including the SAS. This ancient principle demands absolute silence, forbidding members from sharing details about their missions, experiences, or operations with outsiders, particularly the media or the public. This unspoken rule is seen as essential to maintaining unit cohesion, protecting operational security, and ensuring that soldiers can carry out their duties without the fear of reprisal or legal consequences.

Yet, in the current climate, particularly for veterans involved in the Troubles, this code of silence has taken on a new, more troubling meaning. What began as a practical military necessity — "don't brief the enemy" — has calcified into an inflexible cultural badge of honor that increasingly appears out of step with modern realities. During active operations, this secrecy served clear tactical purposes: preventing the revelation of methods, strategies, and capabilities that could advantage adversaries. But today, decades after the conflict, this same silence serves different masters.

In an era where the fight for justice for victims of the conflict continues to unfold, Omertà has inadvertently silenced those who may have crucial insights into the actions of the SAS during one of the most contentious periods in British history.

For some veterans, remaining silent is not a choice but a legacy of loyalty to their comrades, a bond forged in the crucible of war. But for human rights activists, victims' families, and others seeking accountability, the silence surrounding the SAS’s operations during the Troubles has fuelled suspicions of cover-ups, conspiracies, and a lack of transparency.

The problem lies in the tension between two conflicting imperatives: the desire to protect military honour and security on the one hand, and the demand for accountability and truth on the other. The SAS's reputation for secrecy has, over time, become synonymous with being untouchable, even as accusations of unlawful killings, human rights violations, and abuses of power continue to surface. When SAS veterans remain silent, as required by the Omertà code, they are often perceived as part of a conspiracy to shield the military from scrutiny, making them easy targets for criticism.

But the truth is more nuanced. SAS veterans are often caught between loyalty to their brothers-in-arms and the need to clear their names in the face of ongoing legal battles, often decades after the events in question. Many feel that speaking out about their past operations could not only endanger their comrades but also lead to legal consequences, particularly in the current climate of “lawfare” where military personnel are increasingly being pursued through the courts for alleged war crimes and human rights violations.

This complex dynamic has left many veterans in a difficult position. While some feel compelled to adhere to the code of silence, others are beginning to speak out, challenging the narrative and pushing back against what they see as an unjust targeting of former soldiers. For them, it is not about covering up past actions but about defending their integrity and that of the SAS, which they view as a force for good, despite the moral and legal ambiguities of certain operations.

Moreover, there may be a sense that Omertà is being weaponised by the authorities, making it difficult for these veterans to find justice or be heard, while also potentially being used to shield those in power from accountability. The government's selective enforcement of the Official Secrets Act raises troubling questions about whose interests are truly being protected.

While veterans are compelled to maintain silence in their own defence, they can be forced to reveal all in court proceedings — sometimes before individuals connected to the very forces they once fought against. This contradiction exposes how Omertà has evolved from a tactical necessity into a tool for political control, allowing governments to shape narratives while leaving veterans vulnerable to what many view as vexatious litigation.

The Regiment’s close-knit nature and emphasis on loyalty to the unit have helped protect its members, but this protection has sometimes come at the cost of transparency and justice. As more veterans find themselves embroiled in legal challenges related to their actions during the Troubles, the question arises: Does the Government, especially the Ministry of Defence owe veterans a duty of support, or does this perpetuate a culture of silence that prevents accountability?

What is clear is that the SAS veteran community is facing an existential challenge. The silence that once protected them now risks isolating them in a legal and moral grey area. The loyalty that drives many veterans to literally take secrets to their graves increasingly appears misplaced, as they find themselves reduced to mere "agents of the state" in legal proceedings rather than being recognised as men and women who served their country to the best of their ability.

They face an impossible choice: maintain their silence and potentially sacrifice their own legal rights, or speak out and break a code that has defined their professional identity. The very principles of loyalty, duty, and camaraderie that were once the backbone of the Regiment are now being used as weapons against them.

In the midst of this, the Labour Government is moving rapidly to repeal the Legacy Act, a piece of legislation that was introduced to address the legacy of the Troubles and provide a clearer framework for dealing with historical investigations and prosecutions. This shift could drastically change the landscape for SAS veterans, potentially oepning them them to further legal actions, while also raising new questions about how we balance justice for victims with the need for closure and reconciliation.

The way forward requires a delicate balance between honouring military service and addressing historical wrongs. Veterans should not be caught between the demands of loyalty and the call for justice. It’s time for a broader discussion about how we balance military honour and transparency, especially when the silence that once served to protect is now being used to conceal. The story of Omertà and the SAS is not just one of secrecy — it is one of competing values, moral dilemmas, and the ongoing struggle for justice in a divided society.