On December 9, 2025, the United Kingdom was rocked by the release of the final Operation Kenova report, a searing indictment of MI5’s conduct during Northern Ireland’s Troubles. The report revealed that Britain’s domestic intelligence agency not only protected a notorious double agent within the Irish Republican Army (IRA), but also suppressed critical truths about his involvement in serious crimes, including murder, torture, and abduction. The agent, known by the codename Stakeknife and widely believed to be Freddie Scappaticci, operated at the heart of the IRA’s internal security unit while secretly passing information to British intelligence. His legacy now stands as a stark symbol of the moral compromises made in the name of national security.
The Troubles, a period of intense conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s until the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, left about 3,600 people dead and more than 50,000 wounded. The violence pitted Irish republicans, who sought a united Ireland, against British loyalist paramilitaries and the UK’s security forces. Amid this chaos, intelligence agencies on all sides recruited informants to infiltrate enemy ranks. But few, if any, were as centrally placed as Stakeknife.
According to the Associated Press, the Operation Kenova investigation, which began in 2016, found that MI5 had “greater and earlier knowledge” of Stakeknife’s activities than previously acknowledged. Scappaticci, who died at age 77 in 2023 without ever facing charges, led the IRA’s internal security unit—infamously dubbed the “nutting squad”—responsible for rooting out suspected informers. He has been linked to at least 14 murders and 15 abductions, and the Kenova report concluded that MI5’s protection allowed him to continue these crimes unchecked.
The report’s findings are damning. MI5, it said, provided fresh material as recently as 2024 showing that Stakeknife’s handlers twice flew him out of Northern Ireland for “holidays” even while he was wanted by police for conspiracy to murder and false imprisonment. In effect, the agency shielded him from justice, prioritizing the value of his intelligence over the safety of potential victims. “The organization’s role in running Stakeknife was far from peripheral, as had been claimed,” said Jon Boutcher, Chief Constable of Northern Ireland’s police force, during a press conference covered by The Independent. He added, “I’ve not seen anything, anything, that shows that the activities of the agent Stakeknife that people were seeking to stop what he was doing. I have not seen anything to suggest that.”
Operation Kenova, which cost £47.5 million (about $53 million), examined 101 murders and abductions linked to Stakeknife’s IRA unit. Investigators discovered more than 3,500 intelligence reports from the agent that were not acted upon, suggesting that lives “could and should have been saved.” An interim report in 2024 had already concluded that “murders that could and should have been prevented were allowed to take place with the knowledge of the security forces, and those responsible for murder were not brought to justice and were instead left free to re-offend.”
MI5’s handling of Stakeknife was not just a matter of oversight, but of active complicity, the report suggests. The agency’s director general, Ken McCallum, apologized for the late disclosure of key files but insisted no material was deliberately withheld. “The fact this material was provided so late and at a point when further investigation was impossible only caused further upset to the families who have already waited many years to find out what happened to their loved ones,” McCallum said, as reported by The Independent. He also offered sympathies to the victims and their families, acknowledging the pain caused by the agency’s actions.
Yet for many, apologies ring hollow. KRW Law, representing families of those murdered by the IRA, called it “insulting” that Stakeknife has not been officially named, despite overwhelming evidence of his identity. “It’s a slap in the face by the state at a time when there ought to be the most fulsome of apologies over what was a state-sponsored murder operation lasting from 1979 to 1994,” the firm stated. Chief Constable Boutcher echoed this frustration, describing the refusal to name the agent as “untenable and bordering on farce.”
The Kenova report also criticized MI5 for delaying the release of key documents, with several incidents interpreted as attempts to “restrict the investigation, run down the clock, avoid any prosecutions … and conceal the truth,” according to Al Jazeera. Late-coming information revealed that MI5 was closely involved in Stakeknife’s handling, with his commanding officer briefing MI5 every four to six weeks. The report stated bluntly, “MI5 had automatic sight of all Stakeknife intelligence and therefore was aware of his involvement in serious criminality.”
Despite the scale of the investigation, which considered 32 people—including former police, military personnel, and individuals linked to the IRA—for prosecution, the Public Prosecution Service in Northern Ireland ultimately found insufficient evidence to pursue cases. No one has been held legally accountable for the crimes committed under Stakeknife’s watch.
The report’s recommendations are clear. It urges the UK government to drop its Neither Confirm Nor Deny policy and officially name Stakeknife, citing a “compelling ethical case.” It also calls for an official apology to bereaved families and surviving victims, as well as a full apology from the republican movement for the IRA’s abductions, torture, and murders. A No 10 spokesperson, while declining to comment in detail due to ongoing litigation, emphasized that such criminal conduct “would not be tolerated today” and that “the principal responsibility rests with the Provisional IRA.”
The revelations have reignited debate over the moral cost of intelligence operations during the Troubles. As BBC News reported, public interest in Stakeknife’s story remains high, with documentaries and podcasts offering deeper dives into the agent’s shadowy career. The Big Cases: The Executioner Next Door, a documentary by Jennifer O’Leary, and a 12-part BBC Sounds podcast trace Scappaticci’s secret life and the web of deception that surrounded him.
For the families of victims, the Kenova report brings some measure of truth, but little closure. The legacy of Stakeknife is a bitter reminder of the blurred lines between justice and expediency in times of conflict—and the enduring pain when accountability is sacrificed for intelligence.
