Post by earl on Apr 7, 2008 21:49:01 GMT
APOLOGIES dear readers: after giving a rather bleak assessment of Cyprob developments last week, I have come to the conclusion that there is no room for cynicism in this world. I've spent the last week in Belfast on a UNDP training course and the first thing that comes to mind is: we think we've got problems...
I've spoken to residents, taxi drivers and journalists past and present about the troubles and strife of Northern Ireland in the last 40 years. I've seen the deep-rooted division within society and the sky-high 'peace walls' still keeping Protestants and Catholics apart. But I have also witnessed the remarkable turnaround since the 1998 Good Friday agreement.
Conclusion? If the two communities in N. Ireland can overcome the obstacles to peace – 3,000 plus unsolved sectarian murders, decommissioning of arms and release of all political (paramilitary) prisoners – to share power in an involuntary coalition at Stormont, then the future is certainly bright for us in Cyprus.
I don't have the space to give you a decent background, but in a tiny cracked nutshell: the 1916 Easter Uprising in Dublin against British rule resulted in partition of the island. The Republic of Ireland (Catholic) governed over 26 counties in the south while six counties in the north-eastern tip holding a Protestant majority remained a part of the United Kingdom. Over the years the Catholic minority in N. Ireland suffered discrimination over housing and jobs and didn't enjoy the 'one man one vote' afforded the rest of the UK.
The 1960s civil rights movement in the US triggered Catholic civil rights marches and counter-protests in the region, leading to violent unrest between the Catholic Nationalist and Protestant Unionist communities. Not all Catholics wanted to join the Irish Republic and not all Protestants were loyal to the British Queen. However, from 1969 to the mid-nineties, paramilitary groups on both sides waged war against each other, the British army, politicians and civilians in Northern Ireland and the British mainland.
By the 1990s, life was pretty grim on the streets. A number of leading figures took a good hard look at the situation and decided it was time for an end to the war. Ceasefires and breakthrough talks were tentatively held until the 1998 Good Friday agreement was finally concluded. The deal ended direct rule from London, and handed over the reins to a power-sharing executive and an elected assembly sitting in Belfast. The Irish Republic gave up its constitutional claim to the north while Britain left a door open for a future vote on union with Ireland. Note, the two communities are sharing power in an involuntary coalition where legislation cannot be passed without a majority on both sides.
Ten years on, the peace is fragile and the politics has yet to catch up with the breakthrough institutions. The Unionists still want a British union while the Republicans seek unification with Ireland. But the British army has pulled out, sectarian killings have mostly stopped and a mixed police force is fighting crime. The media is no longer reporting on bombs and sectarian killings, focusing instead on issues like badly treated livestock and the proposal to deter under-age drinking by selling alcohol in transparent bags. The oddest picture painted by this Irish fairytale is that of First Minister Reverend Ian Paisley of the Democratic Unionist Party sitting in power with Deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness of Sinn F?in (the political face of the IRA). Even Belfast's Catholic paper, News Letter, is on board, devoting the whole of Thursday's page 3 to Paisley's morning gym routine, complete with photo of the 82-year-old Unionist lifting weights in his grey suit.
So, in effect, we have a phenomenal situation here. For decades, Britain and Ireland refused to talk to each other, never mind engage in joint-talks with the IRA, while people were dying, mostly innocent civilians, targeted for their faith in a drawn-out political war.
Fast forward to today, and we see Protestants who once boasted about being able to “smell a Catholic” now sharing power with Catholics who were once involved in organising violence and terror. We also see the 'motherlands' Ireland and Britain now co-operating with N. Ireland in cross-border institutions. At some point in the near future, the areas of policing and justice will also be handed over to Stormont. One really needs to appreciate the enormity of this. The police and courts, former enemies of the Republicans, will soon come under the wing of a shared executive, including those same Republicans... A Good Friday indeed. I'm surprised the marketing managers of TGI Friday's have yet to seize on the great potential here in Belfast.
One can only really appreciate the strides Northern Ireland has taken when one gets a better picture of what life was like before. Sitting in a taxi from Belfast airport, I spotted my first mural, painted on the side of a house on the edge of a loyalist estate (loyal to the Crown). Between two red and bloody hands of Ulster, a painted masked gunman informed me that I was about to enter the loyalist heartland of South Belfast Ulster-Freedom Fighters. To be totally honest, it was quite exciting because my vision of the conflict up to then had been formed by news bulletins and Hollywood films, so this was my first real contact. That is, until the taxi driver dropped us off at our hotel, just opposite the road. Then I felt less excited and more embedded.
But there is really no comparison with the last decade. One former BBC journalist explained that when he was stationed in Belfast, a city no bigger than Nicosia, in the 1970s, no one stayed in any one place for too long.
“We used to take different routes to the BBC every day because the organisation was seen as just another British tool,” he said.
The pavements on the high street were separated from the road by wooden fences. To enter a shop, you had to pass through an armed checkpoint, leave your bags at the door and shop within a limited time (not so critical of this last restriction).
Once he was called out to investigate a killing. A woman had been blown up while answering the front door, her body parts scattered across the hallway and onto the Christmas tree in the back.
“This woman had been blown to pieces and no one in the neighbourhood had heard or seen a thing. I thought to myself, 'it could be me one day, and no one will notice',” he said.
Compare that scenario to the recent non-sectarian murder of an ex-IRA man. In the past, this would have been a private affair between the IRA and the killer. Today, members of the community were encouraged by Sinn F?in to assist the N. Ireland police as much as possible. Yesterday's papers revealed that police have so far received over one hundred witness statements.
Another journalist was last in Belfast in 1995. “They've sandblasted the whole place to get rid of all the grit and grime. The city used to be dark and dangerous, but even then, it was a great place to go out. The people are amazing.”
He's right. There aren't many places you can find people so open and friendly, and ready for a song and dance at a moment's notice. It's the people's great friendliness and lust for life that makes the sombre story of Northern Ireland all the more difficult to digest. One thing's for certain, things have changed. There are still walls of hate, divided communities, fortified police stations and armoured vehicles, but society, especially the youth, has tasted a kind of freedom from fear that they will find hard to relinquish in the future. Recruitment would be hard, and both sides know it.
The rather crude embodiment of peace and progress hit me yesterday in the shape of 15 English men arriving at the hotel for a stag weekend. You would not have seen an English groom dressed in a wig, skirt and fake breasts, drinking his way through all the bars of Belfast a decade ago. It may not be pretty, but it beats the bombs and bullets.
I've spoken to residents, taxi drivers and journalists past and present about the troubles and strife of Northern Ireland in the last 40 years. I've seen the deep-rooted division within society and the sky-high 'peace walls' still keeping Protestants and Catholics apart. But I have also witnessed the remarkable turnaround since the 1998 Good Friday agreement.
Conclusion? If the two communities in N. Ireland can overcome the obstacles to peace – 3,000 plus unsolved sectarian murders, decommissioning of arms and release of all political (paramilitary) prisoners – to share power in an involuntary coalition at Stormont, then the future is certainly bright for us in Cyprus.
I don't have the space to give you a decent background, but in a tiny cracked nutshell: the 1916 Easter Uprising in Dublin against British rule resulted in partition of the island. The Republic of Ireland (Catholic) governed over 26 counties in the south while six counties in the north-eastern tip holding a Protestant majority remained a part of the United Kingdom. Over the years the Catholic minority in N. Ireland suffered discrimination over housing and jobs and didn't enjoy the 'one man one vote' afforded the rest of the UK.
The 1960s civil rights movement in the US triggered Catholic civil rights marches and counter-protests in the region, leading to violent unrest between the Catholic Nationalist and Protestant Unionist communities. Not all Catholics wanted to join the Irish Republic and not all Protestants were loyal to the British Queen. However, from 1969 to the mid-nineties, paramilitary groups on both sides waged war against each other, the British army, politicians and civilians in Northern Ireland and the British mainland.
By the 1990s, life was pretty grim on the streets. A number of leading figures took a good hard look at the situation and decided it was time for an end to the war. Ceasefires and breakthrough talks were tentatively held until the 1998 Good Friday agreement was finally concluded. The deal ended direct rule from London, and handed over the reins to a power-sharing executive and an elected assembly sitting in Belfast. The Irish Republic gave up its constitutional claim to the north while Britain left a door open for a future vote on union with Ireland. Note, the two communities are sharing power in an involuntary coalition where legislation cannot be passed without a majority on both sides.
Ten years on, the peace is fragile and the politics has yet to catch up with the breakthrough institutions. The Unionists still want a British union while the Republicans seek unification with Ireland. But the British army has pulled out, sectarian killings have mostly stopped and a mixed police force is fighting crime. The media is no longer reporting on bombs and sectarian killings, focusing instead on issues like badly treated livestock and the proposal to deter under-age drinking by selling alcohol in transparent bags. The oddest picture painted by this Irish fairytale is that of First Minister Reverend Ian Paisley of the Democratic Unionist Party sitting in power with Deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness of Sinn F?in (the political face of the IRA). Even Belfast's Catholic paper, News Letter, is on board, devoting the whole of Thursday's page 3 to Paisley's morning gym routine, complete with photo of the 82-year-old Unionist lifting weights in his grey suit.
So, in effect, we have a phenomenal situation here. For decades, Britain and Ireland refused to talk to each other, never mind engage in joint-talks with the IRA, while people were dying, mostly innocent civilians, targeted for their faith in a drawn-out political war.
Fast forward to today, and we see Protestants who once boasted about being able to “smell a Catholic” now sharing power with Catholics who were once involved in organising violence and terror. We also see the 'motherlands' Ireland and Britain now co-operating with N. Ireland in cross-border institutions. At some point in the near future, the areas of policing and justice will also be handed over to Stormont. One really needs to appreciate the enormity of this. The police and courts, former enemies of the Republicans, will soon come under the wing of a shared executive, including those same Republicans... A Good Friday indeed. I'm surprised the marketing managers of TGI Friday's have yet to seize on the great potential here in Belfast.
One can only really appreciate the strides Northern Ireland has taken when one gets a better picture of what life was like before. Sitting in a taxi from Belfast airport, I spotted my first mural, painted on the side of a house on the edge of a loyalist estate (loyal to the Crown). Between two red and bloody hands of Ulster, a painted masked gunman informed me that I was about to enter the loyalist heartland of South Belfast Ulster-Freedom Fighters. To be totally honest, it was quite exciting because my vision of the conflict up to then had been formed by news bulletins and Hollywood films, so this was my first real contact. That is, until the taxi driver dropped us off at our hotel, just opposite the road. Then I felt less excited and more embedded.
But there is really no comparison with the last decade. One former BBC journalist explained that when he was stationed in Belfast, a city no bigger than Nicosia, in the 1970s, no one stayed in any one place for too long.
“We used to take different routes to the BBC every day because the organisation was seen as just another British tool,” he said.
The pavements on the high street were separated from the road by wooden fences. To enter a shop, you had to pass through an armed checkpoint, leave your bags at the door and shop within a limited time (not so critical of this last restriction).
Once he was called out to investigate a killing. A woman had been blown up while answering the front door, her body parts scattered across the hallway and onto the Christmas tree in the back.
“This woman had been blown to pieces and no one in the neighbourhood had heard or seen a thing. I thought to myself, 'it could be me one day, and no one will notice',” he said.
Compare that scenario to the recent non-sectarian murder of an ex-IRA man. In the past, this would have been a private affair between the IRA and the killer. Today, members of the community were encouraged by Sinn F?in to assist the N. Ireland police as much as possible. Yesterday's papers revealed that police have so far received over one hundred witness statements.
Another journalist was last in Belfast in 1995. “They've sandblasted the whole place to get rid of all the grit and grime. The city used to be dark and dangerous, but even then, it was a great place to go out. The people are amazing.”
He's right. There aren't many places you can find people so open and friendly, and ready for a song and dance at a moment's notice. It's the people's great friendliness and lust for life that makes the sombre story of Northern Ireland all the more difficult to digest. One thing's for certain, things have changed. There are still walls of hate, divided communities, fortified police stations and armoured vehicles, but society, especially the youth, has tasted a kind of freedom from fear that they will find hard to relinquish in the future. Recruitment would be hard, and both sides know it.
The rather crude embodiment of peace and progress hit me yesterday in the shape of 15 English men arriving at the hotel for a stag weekend. You would not have seen an English groom dressed in a wig, skirt and fake breasts, drinking his way through all the bars of Belfast a decade ago. It may not be pretty, but it beats the bombs and bullets.