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Editorial:
Trust enough? From
the director: Icons of Culture and Political Identity: A Decade
of Opportunity Comment:
Shaking hands with soldiers At
the end of the day: Trust Remember
1916 Shattered
pieces - a journey in recovering trust Interview
with Rev John Dunlop & Danny Morrison: Truth & Trust Faith
matters lyo
nta kindi dufite uretse UKWIZERA A
Reader's Response to Lion&Lamb #40 Bible
Study: Trust Review:
Religion, Identity and Politics in Northern Ireland: Boundaries
of Belonging and Belief Review:
1916: Lest We Forget Difficult
Conversations |
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THAT’S THE FAMILIAR LINE that is normally trotted out when some of those elected to lead us are faced with the difficult question of ‘why?’ – why have they so far failed to reinstate devolution? Of course, it is always up to the other guy to build the confidence, as if the problem has only ever arisen from that particular quarter. First of all it was an IRA declaration that the war was over, then it was IRA decommissioning, now it has moved on to an ending of IRA criminality and, no doubt, there will be something else after that. When my wife, Sharon, was murdered in October 1993 I began a campaign to highlight atrocities carried out by paramilitary organisations. I recall in those days carrying placards and shouting abuse, mainly directed at Gerry Adams, in places like Dublin, New York and Boston. I wrote letters, gave media interviews and took every opportunity I could to confront those I believed to be the ‘godfathers’ of terror. In my mind, it was clear who the bad guys were, and if we could only be rid of them then this ‘wee country of ours’ would be a great wee place. Sound familiar? Unfortunately, the sad truth of the matter is that it most likely wouldn’t be much better than it is now – because I was forgetting the root cause, namely ‘sectarianism’. At the end of the day, ‘trust’ will never be built up if people are kept apart, or choose to keep themselves apart, and never stop to wonder whether the only thing that really distinguishes them from those they are separated from is the accident of where they are born. For many months after Sharon’s death I kept a journal. I would often get up early in the morning and travel out to her graveside at Carnmoney and spend time just writing – I completed three books in the first year and a half. Initially, they were just the thoughts of a man missing the woman he loved. But, as time moved on, I started to think about the people that murdered her – two young people aged 19, who came from an area about half a mile from where I was brought up, an area where the pavements may have been painted a different colour yet was more or less the same, with the same kind of problems – unemployment, social disadvantage, paramilitarism, etc.. Those were the days of tartan gangs, Gerry Fitt and Bernadette Devlin. I remember an occasion in our house when Bernadette was on the TV and a relative (who, incidentally, happened to be an upstanding member of the community and pillar of the church) said, “Would you look at yon oul’ fenian bitch”. I remember going to school with the letters UVF and UDA clearly written in white paint on my school bag. Or coming home and going for a riot with those that lived up the road – people who were not like me or my friends, people with names that nobody in our estate could spell and who pronounced the letter ‘H’ funny. They all had big families, ginger hair and sponged off the state, or so I was told. They were definitely not the kind of people you could trust or build a relationship with. As I reflected on this, it became apparent to me that while paramilitaries are totally responsible for the atrocities they have been involved in, it would be a nonsense to suggest that they alone were responsible for the conflict in Ireland. At the end of the day, if people like Thomas Begley and Seán Kelly had lived in another part of the British Isles – say Essex or Waterford – they may not have walked into the fish shop on the Shankill Road that Saturday lunchtime and murdered nine innocent people, all Protestant. Or equally, if Torrens Knight and his cohorts had been brought up elsewhere, they might not have carried out the revenge massacre at the pub in Greysteel. In saying all of this, I don’t want to trivialise the ‘conflict’ or reduce it to a mere sectarian squabble. I know it was not as simple as that, but sectarianism definitely played a pivotal role in keeping it going. My fear now is if we don’t address this then we will never know what it is to trust those who live across the bridge or up the road – individuals and communities that we need to embrace if we are to have any hope of securing a shared future. What is the alternative – to continue to live in a state of cultural and political apartheid, where fear and mistrust are the order of the day? I know that many of these issues are being tackled by the likes of the Community Relations Council and EMU [Education for Mutual Understanding] programmes carried out in schools etc., and I welcome this, but more is needed at the political level. When it comes to creating trust and building good community relations it’s surely up to our politicians to lead by example. Which brings me back to my initial point – let’s implement the Good Friday Agreement now. If we wait until people trust one another we will be waiting for some time – would it not be preferable to use the Agreement as a basis for building that kind of ‘trust’? What greater message of hope for the future could be sent out, if Ian Paisley and Gerry Adams could form a government to meet the needs all of the people, regardless of background? It may be a dream but, hey, what’s wrong with dreaming? ALAN McBRIDE is a Youth Worker with the WAVE Trauma Centre in Belfast. |
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