Michelle was only seven years old when her father, a member of the IRA, was killed by a bomb by Loyalist paramilitaries. “I remember it like it was yesterday. There are things that, no matter how small you are, remain clear in your memory because they mark you forever, “she says. Her mother was left a widow with five children. It was the day to day of the “Troubles” (Problems), a euphemism for the bloody three-decade conflict between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland, in which more than 3,000 people lost their lives. The Peace Agreement is now 25 years old. But there are still great physical and, above all, psychological barriers between the two communities. Every Palm Sunday, Michelle is part of the procession organized by the Republican community to commemorate the 1916 Easter Rising. The participants carry photographs of their relatives and a lily, the flower with which nationalist fighters are remembered.
“Of course I don’t forget, but we have to move on and continue with the peace process because I don’t want my children to go through the same thing that I go through,” he says. During the “Troubles”, Michelle’s aunt -Catholic like her- got married to a Protestant so she has a family “on the other side”. “When we see each other there is no problem even though we never talk about politics,” she says. While the nationalists want the reunification of Ireland, the unionists want to remain part of the United Kingdom. Coexistence between both communities is something that has always been instilled in their children. “They move freely where they want. They have friends of all religions. But, to this day, I, who am over 50 years old, still avoid certain neighborhoods. I guess it’s a generational thing.”clarifies.
This type of processions are organized throughout the region. The one that took place yesterday in Derry-Londonderry (which had not requested authorization) caused great disturbances after some participants attacked the police with Molotov cocktails. The authorities have raised the level of terrorist threat due to the possibility of attacks by dissident groups before the arrival this Tuesday of Joe Biden. The procession in Belfast proceeded without incident. It advanced through Falls Road, the main nationalist area to the west, and culminated in the Milltown cemetery, the scene of some of the most atrocious episodes of the conflict. On March 16, 1988, a Loyalist paramilitary threw Molotov cocktails at people attending a funeral for three IRA members. Three people died. Everything was recorded by television cameras. Just three days later, another IRA funeral was held. Two British soldiers – who were in plain clothes but carried weapons – ended up in the middle of the funeral procession as they tried to maneuver a car. It is believed that his intention was to go through another street. But given what had happened just a few days ago, panic spread among the Catholics, who ended up pulling the soldiers out of the car windows, kicking and torturing them until they were finished. Again, journalists witnessed everything.
The cemetery is located a few meters from one of the 100 great walls that still exist in the region to separate some neighborhoods. They are called Walls of Peace. Another euphemism. They are cement and metal monsters that can exceed eight meters in length. But even so, there are neighbors who cover their patios with metal fences. The feeling is claustrophobic. Like being in a jail. «You will never understand it because they have not burned down your house at night. It’s better to watch this from the window than go to bed afraid,” says Patrick. Simply by saying his name –patron of Ireland– one already knows that he is Catholic. Northern Ireland is a region full of slogans. It matters a lot if you’re called Sean or Billy. If you mean the second largest city like Derry or Londonderry. Or even if you pronounce the “H” one way or another. These are details that, during the “Troubles”, could cost you your life.
«Simply by the way of speaking or by the school that you had studied, you already knew which community you belong to. With the partition of the island, they made sure that we Catholics were a minority. We were completely marginalized. We could not access certain jobs. Without work you could not have housing. And without housing you could not have a vote. We were oppressed,” reveals Patrick. Like many tour guides who now point out the murals that mark every corner of the city, he was a former member of the IRA.
Others are former members of the British Army. So the historical version of the tour varies considerably depending on who is booked. Although some like Joe and Mark have ended up becoming partners. The first teaches the Catholic part, the second the Protestant. “The day will come when the walls come down. It all depends on education,” says Joe.
Today, there are only 70 integrated schools with 25,000 students, which represents only 7% of the students. In other words, about 92% of children continue to grow up only surrounded by Protestants or Catholics.
Some coincide later in the university. Theresa and Myriam became best friends while studying nursing. After the first year on campus they went to share a flat. But the first, a Protestant, acknowledges her nervousness when she had to introduce her friend to her parents. “She’s not only Catholic, but she’s from the Republic of Ireland and she didn’t know how they were going to handle that in my house…but it all worked out in the end,” she explains. Myriam, her older brother, had already been warned that things north of the border were different. So she was prepared to face some “awkward situations” like the fact that some hospital patients refuse to be treated by her. “As soon as I start talking to them they recognize the accent. And then they ask for another nurse », she explains with some impotence. commemorates the 25th anniversary of the historic pact that brought peace to the region. For Catholics it is the Good Friday Agreement. For Protestants it is the Belfast Agreement.
Discussion about this post