Malcolm meets the Loyalists

Throughout the 1990s I worked with Global Exchange, a progressive travel company based in San Francisco. It was rewarding work that taught me a lot about how to relate to people and gave me an opportunity to develop my knowledge of Irish history and politics. Above all, it allowed me to travel around Ireland and get to know parts of my country that I wasn’t familiar with while being paid at the same time. For that I will always be grateful.

The tours that I enjoyed most were political and educational tours. At that time the peace process had barely taken root, so a lot was happening in terms of negotiations and while these were underway there was, tragically, ongoing violence. One of the most difficult “sticking points” in the talks was the insistence of unionist politicians and the Orange Order that they had the right to march through the nationalist neighbourhood of Garvaghy Road, located near Drumcree church in Armagh. The standoff in Drumcree went on year after year inflaming tensions throughout the north of Ireland and beyond.

One particular year, 1995, stands out in my mind as being particularly volatile. The tension led to violent confrontations, particularly in “flashpoints”, those areas where nationalist and loyalist neighbourhoods directly adjacent, such as Lanark Way in Belfast, Ardoyne in the north of the city, and also of course, in Drumcree among other places. Drumcree was where loyalist and Orange Order marching bands from Armagh and beyond were determined to gather so that they could then follow the route they insisted on… along Garvaghy Road in full view of the nationalist population of that area.

In the years when they were given permission by the authorities to follow this route, the scenes broadcast on television were terrifying. Helicopters monitoring the situation showed images that were reminiscent of KKK marchers in the US forcing their way through a black neighbourhood or settlement. Lines of police separated the marchers from the residents who were incensed at the authorities and, of course, the marchers themselves who had asserted all the bigotry they were capable of to get their own way, trampling the sensitivities of Catholics in the process.

Such was the mood and rising level of violence in 1995 that I decided to cancel a visit to the Shankill Road in Belfast I had planned for my Global Exchange group in July. This decision was taken because of the potential danger and because, as Tour Leader, I was responsible for the safety of the group I was working with. When I broke the news to the group, they were disappointed that they were going to miss the opportunity to meet some of the people representing the Shankill Road loyalists. However, they agreed that I had made the right decision… except for one.

Malcolm was an ex-hippy from California who had a relaxed and easy going approach to life. He didn’t always accept explanations at face value if he had the option of investigating and reaching his own conclusion. This was the chief motivation for his decision to check out the loyalist Shankill Road for himself. I gave him directions on where to cross the peace wall/line and what NOT to say if he got into conversation with anyone while he was in that area.

I didn’t see him again until later the following day when he joined me and the rest of the group in one of the local pubs on the Falls Road. Malcolm sat next to me and explained that his trip to the Shankill Road had been frightening and that he was sorry he had gone there. He had walked up and down the Shankill Road, taking photos of the various murals and sights, which he enjoyed. Just before heading back into the city centre, he decided to call into one of the local pubs for a pint of Guinness.

The pub was not particularly busy and there were abundant empty seats. Malcolm chose one of the stools at the bar and gave his order to the barman. While he was waiting for the Guinness to settle, he picked up the remote control of the wall mounted television to look for the latest news on Drumcree. The news didn’t feature in his search, but the all-Ireland hurling championship final did and the commentary on the match was live. This was a sport the Malcolm was keen to learn about, so he stopped searching for the news and began to watch the game. Within a couple of minutes two men approached him from behind and sat on stools on either side of him. One hissed in his face the words, “You’re not from around here, are you?” That was when Malcolm’s strong Californian accent saved his life. On hearing the reply, the loyalist thugs gave him his marching orders, telling him to “F***off to wherever he came from before they “beat the f*** out of him.”

From what was said, there was no mistake that Global Exchange was close to having one member of its groups hospitalised or even worse that day, all on account of a game of hurling… apparently. What Malcolm had come up against that day on the Shankill Road was naked bigotry and sectarian hatred of anything associated with Catholics/nationalism. He was fortunate that he was able to walk away from it; many others were not.

Meanwhile in Drumcree a different, but equally ugly confrontation had occurred thweekend. Several bands of the Orange Order were allowed to march along Garvaghy Road on prior agreement with the authorities and local residents that they, the Orangemen would not insist following this route again. This was to be the last time Orange marches would be seen on this road unless they had the consent of nationalists who lived along this road. That was highly unlikely.

That was almost twenty years ago and since then politicians have taken the lead in resolving most of these contentious issues. However, sectarianism still persists throughout the north even if it doesn’t lead to these dramatic confrontations. Nationalists are now in the majority in Stormont, the devolved government that debates and decides on behalf of the population in the north of Ireland. In Belfast city council there is also a majority of nationalist councillors, reflecting the changing demographics of the north, where the Catholic population is a growing majority.

Times have changed significantly since Malcolm had his unpleasant encounter with loyalists on the Shankill Road. The political situation has undoubtedly been transformed by a determination to move on from those days. Nevertheless, twenty-five years later those old hatreds and sectarian beliefs still prevail in the north of Ireland. Seemingly, they are rooted in the psyche of people in this part of the world. As such, it will be very a long time before I could confidently assure any more Malcolms that they would be entirely safe visiting the Shankill Road alone and fearlessly. If only it weren’t so.