Hello. Welcome to Irish passport. Let’s do it. Welcome to the Irish passport. I’m Tim Mc Inerney. I’m Naomi O’Leary. We’re friends. Cé he bhfuil tú Naomi? Go hana mhaith ar fad, Tim. This is your passport to Irish culture, history and politics. I’m recording. 1 2 3. OK.
Welcome to the second part of the Irish Passport, two part series on Northern Ireland. In this episode, we are going to Belfast as the city gears up for the annual peak of the marching season.
Yes. Welcome back, listeners. So if you’ve already caught up with our last episode about Derry, you’ll know that we travellyed to Northern Ireland recently to do some reporting on the Twelfth of July period. Now you’re new to the podcast. You might want to take a listen to that episode for us because it explains a lot of the background stuff that we’ll be discussing today.
In this episode, we’re going to take a closer look at the July 12th celebrations, their history and how they’re seen today.
We’ll be speaking to people from both communities about what the city is like during these celebrations and why they inspire joy and happiness for some. And fear and intimidation in others.
So we left Derry on the Eleventh of July and we drove across the province of Northern Ireland to Belfast. The second biggest city on the island of Ireland after Dublin. Now, this was no ordinary day in Belfast. The night of the Eleventh July is when people from the Unionist and British identifying communities in Northern Ireland celebrate their identities and culture with huge bonfires and street parties.
It’s the buildup to the so-called Glorious Twelfth, when the Protestant fraternity known as the Orange Order marched the streets all over Northern Ireland. They’re accompanied by processions of flute bands and the sound of pounding drums. They do this every year over the course of a whole parade season. They celebrate military victories over Catholics in the 17th century, among lots of other things. It’s a tradition that isn’t very well understood in the Republic. So before we go any further, let’s hear from a specialist on the issue to get a bit of historical context for the celebrations and what they mean. This is Donald MacRaild, professor of British and Irish History in Roehampton University, and he’s the author of Faith Fraternity and Fighting the Orange Order and Irish Migrants in Northern England.
The Orange Order is a Protestant Self-Defense Association, which was established after the Battle of the Diamond in County Armagh in 1795, and its principal objectives, which defend Protestantism and Protestants against what they saw as the rising Catholic threat. The Catholic threat, which, of course, resulted in the 1798 rising.
OK, so to break that down a bit, listeners, the organizations, like so many aspects of Irish culture, go back to the colonial penal laws in the 18th century. Now, this was a time when the British crown was trying to convert the Irish population to Protestantism, and that was basically a matter of national security for Britain. The laws tried to make life difficult for Catholics and for dissenting Protestants so that they might eventually go over to the established Anglican Church. In reality, though, those laws just created a deep set of divisions built around class and religion. So you ended up with this tiny, very, very wealthy Anglican colonial elite, a small, disenfranchised population of dissenting Protestants, mostly in the North — that’s people like Presbyterians and Methodists — and a sprawling majority of pretty much wretchedly poor and disempowered Catholics. So unsurprisingly, you’ve got these sectarian clashes in the 18th century between these groups all the time. And there were these kind of mafia militia groups all over the country representing the different religious factions. And that was the context in which the Orange Order grew up. It started as a secret society created to defend Protestant interests and British royalty against those growing and dangerous Catholic militias, especially in mixed areas like County Armagh. In the 1780s and 90s, though, the order faced an even greater threat: the United Irishmen.
Our old friends, the United Irishman. Now, we’ve mentioned those guys before. It was a massive rebel movement that was inspired by the French Revolution. They wanted to unite Catholics and Protestants together to overthrow British rule entirely and establish a secular Irish republic.
Exactly. And in response to that, the British administration back then in the 18th century threw all its support behind the Orange Order to try and reestablish division and the old sectarian order against this this idea of a secular republic. The United Irishman staged one of Ireland’s biggest rebellions in 1798, but it was violently defeated and pretty much ended in a bloodbath, really, you know, all over the country. Particularly in the north, actually. So in the aftermath of that membership of the Orange Order, it pretty much exploded because all these Protestants were seeking to band back together and defend their links with the British crown.
It’s primarily an organization back then of Anglicans. Presbyterians didn’t become involved until much later in the 19th century — late-19th century. It was supported by local landed elites and local industrialists and so on. It was seen as a very useful tool for the establishment in Ulster. And it was something that was exported around the world by Ulster emigrants pretty much everywhere the Irish went.
Since their establishment, one of the major activities of the Orange Order has been these yearly parades. Their members dress up in these striking costumes with black bowler hats and these kind of electric orange sashes, and they lead huge processions through towns and cities in Northern Ireland. These possessions bang these huge big drums called Lambeg drums. And they play flutes, usually in commemoration of military victories. It’s a tradition that has always stoked tensions, but which became particularly contentious during the civil rights movement and subsequent conflict between 1968 and 1998, because it was seen by many nationalists as this kind of symbol of Protestant-unionist supremacy in Northern Ireland.
The first parades are in the summer of the early eighteen hundreds and you have parades in Ulster very quickly established as part of the cultural fabric of Orangism. Why does it go on so long? Why has it become so absolutely central to the idea of being Orange? Well, first of all, because the Orange Order has that military evocation because of the, you know, the background in military lodges, parading and marching in military fashion has that sense of being proud, sober and all that. I think, and the uniforms and the narrative, it is a well-organized people with clear reference to Freemasonry, with its secret rituals and to the military, with its marching tradition, its bands and whatnot, carrying banners and flags. But once you get opposition to marching, then, of course, your desire to march grows. What you also get, though, were party processions acts in the 1820s, 30s and 40s which bands parading sectarian parading. So when the state starts to ban these things things, then of course people want to do them even more. And you have a number of causes célèbres around this question of trying to stop Orangemen parading and Orangemen desiring to parade. So there’s been a lot of opposition and there’s been hostility around those parades, but they are locked into the mentality for a reason of opposition to that opposition, because they really have been going on for a very long time. And these traditions really are very long indeed.
One of the most notorious flashpoints was in the town of Drumcree, where Catholic residents had decided to resist Orange marchers parading through their district back in 1972. That standoff led to recurring violence and rioting at the site right until 1998.
Protestant Orangemen had this idea that where you could parade, you could control. There is a validity in the claim that these are exertions of oppression, of the of the expression of the dominant ethnie over the weaker enthnie. Though, of course, republicans also march and have flute bands and things, as well. In many ways, these are, you know, reacting to the existence of Orange parades. Factually, though, you know, whether the average Orangemen in Ulster really represents the hegemony of wider loyalism over republicanism is probably moot because, of course, most of the people are talking about are working class but an often disadvantaged working class set against each other. One orange, one green, you know, one loyalist, unionist, one republican. But in the broader sense, it’s true.
I think that’s a really important point that MacRaild made there. Now, we have to remember that the Orange Order, and the Twelfth in general, doesn’t represent all Protestants or unionists in Northern Ireland. There’s a lot of class politics involved here. And inter-community distinctions. And we need to always keep that in mind in this discussion.
Definitely. Whatever the case, though, the Eleventh and Twelfth of July are perhaps the most starkly divided time in Northern Ireland between the two communities. For many Protestant Unionists, this is the peak yearly festival of their culture. It’s as important to them as, let’s say, the Fourth of July in the US.
Yeah. For nationalists and those who identify as Irish though, it can be quite a scary time and it’s common for people to leave Northern Ireland entirely. Lots of people take some time off work. The Twelfth of July is a public holiday in Northern Ireland, by the way. And they cross the border into the Republic for short holidays in Donegal, Dublin or Wexford. Now, we spoke in our last episode about how we’re a bit removed from all this in the Republic. You know, marches like this generally don’t take place there, but this phenomenon is one thing that is noticeable down South every year. Suddenly you’ll see all these UK registered cars showing up and you’ll likely hear a northern accents on the streets all around the place.
So people thought it was really weird for us being Irish to take the reverse journey to travel into Northern Ireland for this exact time of year. Our families were a bit concerned for our safety. And lots of people along the way gave us pretty stern warnings to be careful.
It’s probably not obvious for some of our international listeners, but our accents do make us immediately identifiable in Northern Ireland as being from the Irish Republic. And that tends to make us very conspicuous at this time of year when, of course, these huge bonfires are being set up burning symbols of that same Republic.
Depending on where we were in the city or southern accents, were either a serious safety liability or a ticket to a warm welcome.
But we went straight into the thick of it anyway. All for you, listeners. Further into the thick of it, actually, than we ever thought we’d get. And I think it’s fair and it’s fair to say that we were consistently surprised by almost everything we thought we knew about the Twelfth in Northern Ireland. Would you say that, Naomi?
Yeah, definitely.
We definitely saw several sides to the whole cultural phenomenon. We saw how it can be a beloved family tradition on a nice day out with barbecues and bouncy castles for children in some communities.
But we also saw the sad truth that particularly the Eleventh can be quite scary and frankly, a festival of hate.
And we also got an interesting insight into how the parade season is viewed from the other side of the city, where lots of Catholic residents feel like they have to stay well away from the city center until the whole thing has died down.
In the background, of course, the political situation was continuing to destabilise in Northern Ireland. Of course, it has no functioning government. It’s pretty much at the frontline of the Brexit fallout. So while we were in the north, there was an unusually high level of disorder and arson in various flashpoints across the province. And shortly afterwards, the houses of the famous republicans Gerry Adams and Bobby Storey were petrol bombed — not by loyalists, but it’s believed by republicans who would like to revive the armed struggle against British rule.
OK, so before we go any further, just like in the last episode, we have to make a disclaimer here. We’re coming at this whole situation from a very specific perspective as citizens of the Irish Republic. You know, we try, as always, to be open minded, but this subject is thick with history and it’s about as contentious as a topic can get. So we know our report is probably not going to please everyone.
We’re absolutely aware of that. We know we have our own particular perspectives and no doubt we’ll see things differently to other people and probably overlook things as well. So we welcome you getting in touch with us to tell us what we missed. And if you have something to say, don’t hesitate to hit us up on Twitter.
You can find us, as always, at @PassportIrish.
We appreciate the heads up and like everyone else, we’re trying to understand.
OK, so let’s start by looking a bit at the city of Belfast. This is, of course, the capital of Northern Ireland, and it’s by far the biggest city in the province, actually. Steve Bradley, the regeneration consultant that we interviewed in our previous episode, he described Northern Ireland as something of a Belfast city-state.
Like Derry, this was once the site of a colonial plantation. It was settled by English and Scottish migrants in the 17th century. Unlike Derry, though, this side of Northern Ireland is pretty much as far from the border as you can get. And Belfast is positioned right within the heartland of unionist British identifying Northern Ireland, which includes the coastal counties of Antrim and Down.
Right. So, as a result, Belfast once had a firm Protestant majority. But this has definitely changed in the last decades. According to the most recent 2011 census, almost 42 percent of the population of Belfast now identify as Catholic. The population identifying as Protestant has also fallen to only 34 percent, according to those figures. But that also seems to reflect the rapidly growing number of people who don’t identify with either group. And that has grown to about 24 percent, now.
Very important to remember that quarter of the population that isn’t on either of these two sides that we’re gonna be talking so much about. But to just describe what Belfast is like, it has a very different cityscape to Derry. Like, there’s no medieval big walls and fortifications here that this city’s major period of growth was during the industrial revolution. The city’s waterfront faces out under huge historic shipyards where, of course, the Titanic was built famously back in 1912.
Yeah, of course, Belfast was home to one of the largest shipyards in the world at the beginning of the 20th century. It was kind of a world leader in shipbuilding, and that’s the reason the Titanic was built there and lots of other cruise liners. It was one of the only shipyards that was big enough really to house them.
That gives a glimpse into the status of Belfast as an industrial city. And that makes it a bit of an oddity in Ireland. The industrial revolution didn’t really happen in the rest of the country, which, of course, had been devastated by that great famine in the mid 19th century.
Indeed, during the 19th century and much of the 20th century. Belfast was very much a jewel in the United Kingdom’s industrial crown. It also played a very important role strategically to the UK because it’s positioned at the Straits of the Irish Sea between Scotland and Northern Ireland. It would’ve been really, really significant for any potential and naval invasion of the UK.
These two fundamental assets provided plenty of incentive for the UK to hang onto the city, and the northern region in general, after the south won independence in 1922.
Absolutely. In addition, of course, Belfast was largely loyal to the British crown. During the industrial period, the city built up this very proud Protestant working class and middle class who had this reputation for hard work and success. You know, the Protestant work ethic thing. These British identifying partisans, they were contrasted all the time to the agricultural Irish identifying population in the south who were often stereotyped as lazy and treacherous.
Damn it, Tim. They’re on to me.
Yeah. Well, I mean, like we laugh, but those stereotypes of industrious Protestants versus lazy Catholics, you know, they persisted until relatively recently and they got to hang around a little bit in the air even still.
The Voice of Ulster film clip:
Our small farms are still work by people who, like myself, can trace their descent from the 17th century settlers. My plot of land may be small, but I am entirely self-supporting. Yes, it is from the hard work of the wee farmers that Ulster has built up its reputation for sturdiness and independence.
Ulster in Peace and War film clip:
The Northern Ireland parliament made this declaration at the outbreak of war. The people of loyal Ulster will share the burdens of their kith and kin in every part of the empire to the uttermost extent of their resources. Britain’s difficulty is Northern Ireland’s opportunity to place all her possessions — human and material — at the service of our King. The people of Ulster her have long loved and defended liberty. They will not fail to defend that now.
These are such batshit clips, by the way. Where did you find them? They’re so funny.
Don’t even ask. They’re from a 1946 tours film called The Voice of Ulster. And the second one is a 1940s British Council film called Ulster in Peace and War.
That second clip that you might have caught, listeners, is a pointed dig at the Irish Republic, which traditionally held that Britain’s difficulty was Ireland’s opportunity. The Republic, of course, remained neutral during World War Two, and that further increased this British image of doughty Ulster Protestants as upstanding and dutiful compared to their neighbours in the south.
So Belfast, like we said, is roughly divided between Protestant and Catholic. And there are flashpoints between the two sides are where huge walls have been built, known as “peace lines.” They’re up to 7.6 metres tall and they can run for up to five kilometres in length.
The peace lines were originally built in 1969 during the Troubles, but since the Good Friday agreement of 1998, they have actually, depressingly, increased in number and in height. So there are more of them than ever before. They’re a visual reminder of how sadly segregated people’s lives can be attending different schools, living in different spaces. It’s not uncommon for people not to meet someone from the other side until they’re grown adults, despite huge efforts to address this.
There are also, of course, huge areas of inbetween territory where Catholics and Protestants totally live peacefully together. And that’s really important to note.
The city was far more integrated before the conflict broke out in the late 60s. People segregated as a response to violence and feeling unsafe. And still today, families can be intimidated out of their homes if they’re deemed to be in the wrong place. Some older people remember with great nostalgia the days when communities were more mixed and it just wasn’t a big deal.
OK, so let’s get onto the bonfires. The first bonfire we visited when we arrived in Belfast was on the Donegall Pass. That’s just south of the city centre. And on its eastern side, it runs through this loyalist stronghold. And the affiliations here are very clear to see. On the way into the road, there is this massive mural of a Union Jack with the letters U V F.
UVF stands for Ulster Volunteer Force. And this particular part of Belfast is UVF turf. It emerged during the Troubles to oppose Irish Republicanism and keep Northern Ireland part of the UK. And it’s named after the original Ulster volunteers, who were a militia formed to resist home rule in 1913.
During the Troubles, this group killed hundreds of people, mostly Catholic civilians, who were shot or stabbed at random. It also bombed Dublin and Monaghan in the Republic of Ireland in 1974, killing 34 people. And that was the single deadliest bombing of the whole Troubles, I think.
Nowadays, the UVF is a very different thing. Time has moved on. Much of the conflict ended in 1998, but groups like the UVF persist as kind of local strongmen who dominate their area and deal out vigilante justice. Most of the people they attack or kill these days are within their own community. Often teenagers who’ve they’ve decided are out of line. There are turf disputes over drug dealing and they sometimes also feud with other loyalist groups.
So as we walked into this area, there were flags of the UVF up on lampposts all over the place. They’re orange and purple flags and they have the red hand of Ulster over the letters UVF. Funnily enough, it’s something of a local Chinatown, too. So they’re also all these yummy looking takeaways and restaurants know just beneath the flags. Which, you know, made us pretty hungry.
Yeah, it was a really interesting like mix and Tim and I totally caved and went for a chinese in the end. But that’s another story.
It was great. Anyway, the atmosphere brightened up a lot as we continued down the street.
There was a community garden that was holding a barbecue. There was a big bouncy castle for children. There were chip vans and there was music playing. And lots of young families just, you know, out in the sun having a nice time.
Sure. Yeah. I think it’s fair to say, despite this omnipresent symbolism of the UVF, it didn’t feel in the slightest bit threatening where we were. We were a little bit nervous approaching people to speak to at first. But when we did talk to one couple, they couldn’t have been friendlier.
I was born around this district. And it just every year this time the same sort of thing happens, you know. It’s just celebrating your culture, you know. That’s all it is.
But you don’t get the same excitement as what you did years ago. It’s not the same. I think from the Troubles. It sort of hasn’t… It’s changed really, you know. Because when you were younger, you know, the excitement building up to the Twelfth, especially the Eleventh, you know what I mean. So it was, you know, and Sandy Row. I’m sure you’ve heard Sandy Row. I mean, everybody headed to Sandy Row, didn’t they? Every Eleventh. I mean you couldn’t’ve got moving. You more or less moved with the crowd. You know, you didn’t move, the crowd moved you. You know.
Would you go to one tonight?
We have one just round the corner.
Could we go and see it? Would we be OK to have a look?
Oh, yeah. See, if yous cut through there… We’ll walk up with you.
Oh, that’s so kind of you. Thank you.
Our new friends told us the event here was organized by a local community forum which provides grants for neighborhood activities like this during the holidays. As we made our way to the local bonfire, their interest was actually piqued by the name of a podcast because one of them was in the process of applying for an Irish passport herself. Let’s have a listen.
Eight to ten week backlog.
No way.
That’s to do with Brexit.
I know, because it means you have a European passport, more or less.
Is that why you’re applying?
Well, it would have been more complicated for me to get a British one. I had a British one years ago. But because it was… I was married then, but I’m divorced now. I would have to get all this… these papers and stuff, which I don’t have anymore.
But everybody seems to be getting Irish passports.
The local bonfire was relatively small, but still by of a one storey house, say. There were no flags on it at all. But the UVF symbols were still fluttering around us. When we asked our new friends about this, they immediately drew the attention away, and instead spoke about the flags for local flute bands. It was very much in the spirit of kindness, I think. And they wanted to bring out the pride they had in their traditions.
The fire usually gets lit about half 11-12, doesn’t it?
Oh, it’ll be happening about 11-12 o’clock.
And then there’s fireworks. Are they havving the fireworks this year? You usually have the fireworks as well, you know.
They usually have them on for the kids, first, you know. So they can go on to bed. The young ones.
I see. I see.
There’d be a big crowd up here, like at night like. Twelve o’clock. See, years ago they used to light them earlier on and all, you know. But it just seemed to go further and further and now it’s usually twelve o’clock.
Yeah.
And what are the flags here?
Well that’s the Union Jack.
Yeah, that one I know.
What’s that, the Apprentice Boys?
Yeah, that’s the Apprentice one. That’s the maroon-y coloured one.
Apprentice Boys. OK.
YCV.. Young Citizen Volunteers.That was the junior version of the UVF. Ulster Volunteer Force.
OK. And then that one’s UVF.
That’s our bond down here.
OK.
We have our.. Oh, you’ll see! They’ll be marching around tonight. But they don’t come round in their uniforms.
They usually parade tonight, too.
But they don’t come round in their uniforms.
Because their uniforms is for tomorrow like, you know.
OK, I see.
So they’ll just come round in their ordinary clothes tonight, you know.
South Belfast Young Conquerors.
They also told us about some community tensions. This year, the council had tried to dismantle some bonfires or move them out of fire safety fears, while at the same time they said this area was falling victim to redevelopment and a depletion of social housing and community dispersal.
Local bonfires would be around this size normally? Or would they…
No. Some of them’s massive.
Some of them’s big. Really too big. Far, far too big.
There might a bit of trouble tonight, too. Not over here, but over the east.
Why?
Because they went in today at lunchtime, and knocked a bonfire down and started taking it all away, like.
Oh, I see.
Instead of doing it before the day it was to happen, you know? They’re only really going to cause trouble.
OK.
You know. And then last night…
So the council moved in or something?
And last night… They, uh… there was trouble over the east, there was trouble too with them taking a bonfire. But I mean, they should’ve taken it weeks before. That’s what you do instead of waiting until the last day to sort of do it, you know.
Do people feel like their culture is sort of under attack? Is that why…
Yes. Yes.
You see, that’s what it is.
That’s why they’re sort of sensitive about it?
But it a way, too, it’s right. Because a lot of them are too close to buildings and all.
Yeah.
You know, it can be dangerous to people. That shouldn’t happen.
Yeah.
And that’s why they do it, you know.
You see, years ago when we were kids, you know, when you were doing your bonfire…
Ack, every street had…
You started off with a small… Well, when I say small I don’t mean tiny.
Yeah.
But you wouldn’t’ve had a bonfire like…
But you still have a load of wood. And as the night went on you just kept throwing it on. You know what I mean.
You just kept throwing it on. You didn’t pile it up like this mountain.
But that’s the way they’re all doing them now. But like the only thing about the pallets, they burn… it burns too quick.
OK.
Years ago, they went for days. Because somebody’d just lift another wee bit of wood…
And threw it on. You know what I mean. And every street more or less had a bonfire.
Every street had their own bonfire.
You know?
Like where I lived down here when I was young. It was a different house and all…
Yeah.
All the streets… Well you had actually two. One at the top and one at the bottom, you know? But then it’s all boiled down to just one for each area sort of thing. Right.
Is that from lack of interest or what it too contentious or…?
No, well, they way the housing was changed and all, you know. It’s different too now. And then we didn’t have a carpark or anything. That was actually our streets, too.
Really?
Yes. They were all three streets.
So, what happened to them?
Well, what happened, actually. That’s why I had to move into here at the time. There were knocking all the old houses down to build these new ones. So they moved us. I actually ended up in a place called Cregagh on the other side of town.
Yeah.
But they promised us we’d get offered a house back again.
Yeah.
But they’re not doing twelve hundred houses. They only built six.
So how do you get the people back in again?
That’s shocking.
Well, you see, it’s the way, it’s way they try to move the people that they want moved.
Yeah. So, if we came here later, do you think we’d be OK to wander around?
Oh no, you’ll be safe enough. You’ll be safe enough. No, you’re fine.
Will we, would we be OK to ask people questions like we chatted to you?
I would think so. As long as when you say about the Irish thing, you know (laughing). It makes you, like you know, it’s nothing to do, but the first thing that’ll come into their heads is, “yous are trying to get us into an All-Ireland, or soemthing,” you know.
Yeah, sure.
Just, say, you know, that it’s a documentary-type thing, you know.
Ok, yeah. That’s a good word to say, actually like. Because, that’s, that is what we’re doing.
Yeah.
It’s like a documentary style report thing. OK, cool. Well, thank you so much for talking to us. It was great to meet you.
Lovely meeting you love. Ok. All the best.
And they were right. We did pass the area later on and it was still an absolutely fine atmosphere.
Yeah. A lot of people we spoke to in advance told us that this was the real face of the Twelfth. Like you might see in smaller towns, you know, a lot of people said that Belfast isn’t very representative of what the Twelfth means in Northern Ireland at large. But of course, we were only 10 minutes walk away from these huge mega structures that have a rather less savory reputation than that.
As we headed north from the Donegall Pass toward the loyalist area of Sandy Row, the streets were thronged with people outside pubs and shops. Many of them were wearing British flags or red, white and blue colours. And there was a kind of a street party atmosphere going on.
Yeah. The flag issue, and the politics around flags, was really interesting throughout our trip, actually. I was surprised here at the number of English flags at first. But then, of course, I remembered not the World Cup was going on while we were there and England was playing Croatia that night. So that explains it a bit. But it was definitely an interesting crossover with those, you know, football and English flags and the general celebration of Britain.
There was other unexpected flags, too, such as the American Confederate flag, which was flying from one unionist pub we saw. That made us pretty uneasy, considering its renewed political significance in the last few years, and its adoption to support racist or alt-right positions in the United States. The general atmosphere here was a bit laddish and kind of macho, but it’s still pretty good natured and not completely out of the ordinary. There was also a lot of novelty merchandise everywhere.
Yeah, absolutely. People were wearing, you know, British flag wigs and sunglasses and hats. And there were loads of there was loads of paraphernalia to do with the parades. Flutes and drums and stuff. So we stopped into small shop that was selling flute band supplies to ask what trade was like at this time of year.
I’m David Milligan, part owner of Sandy Row Marching Band Supplies, Belfast on Sandy Row, here.
What’s your biggest selling item, would you say?
That depends on the time of the year. Mostly drums and flutes, but at this, over the Twelfth period, you have all the traditional souvenirs and flags. The Twelfth of July is a traditional parade held by the Orange Order to commemorate at the Battle of the Boyne. In Northern Ireland, there’s approximately 650 marching bands. Plus you would have your pipe bands, and that on top of it. But connected to Loyal Order parades and that there’ll be some bands who only parade once a year. But there’s roughly about 650 marching bands.
That’s amazing.
There’s a bit of a, there’s a street party vibe happening out there. So what would happen on a typical Eleventh this evening, then from now?
Well, it’s like any carnival atmosphere. You know, there’d be plenty of beer and music. And then they light the fires later on.
Will you be going to a bonfire yourself?
I will be, but I’ll be going to one in Carrickfergus. That’s my hometown. Where the King might have landed himself. The man that started all this.
Really! I didn’t know that.
OK, so that’s an important one, then.
Yes.
And what would you say, like the whole, like the most important ethos is that you celebrate with this festival? Is it about community? Is about tradition? How would you describe it?
It’s everything rolled in. It’s community and tradition. That’s something that’s passed down. And it’s just a carnival atmosphere that everybody enjoys and everybody’s welcome to and enjoy.
Just around the corner from this shop, though, the atmosphere suddenly changed. In a massive vacant lot on Sandy Row. There was this enormous pyre. And I think when it came into our site, it kind of took our breath away.
Completely. Just at the entrance, there were big gangs of young men that were hanging around. And it was the first time we felt we should probably fall back a little bit. So we walked around to the other side to take a look at the bonfire through the wire fences that were surrounding it.
And this thing was enormous. It was like the mutant monster version of the one that we had seen a few minutes earlier. Like, it’s hard to convey its scale, and it’s hard to convey how close it was to all the other buildings around it. And we’ll put some pictures up on Twitter. Some of those young guys that we saw, they were mostly, I’d say, in their 20s or maybe older teenagers. They were scaling up and down this huge structure, putting on the finishing touches.
We just happened to arrive as they were nailing the Irish tricolour to the top of their bonfire. They were also nailing up the Palestinian flag pretty much at the same level.
Now, we talked about this in our last episode. The reason why the Palestinian flag is up there is that Irish nationalists have traditionally sympathized with the Palestinian cause. It’s seen by some as analogous to the situation in the north.
And on the other side, of course, some loyalists have adopted the flag of Israel. And that’s one that we also saw flying in the nearby streets.
At this stage then it was just before dark and there were a lot of tourists and onlookers hanging around watching the construction of the whole thing, which was really impressive. We spoke to one young French woman who lives in Belfast, and we asked her how this whole thing feels to someone with an outside perspective.
The thing is like I have a big political backgrounds, so I knew the history of Belfast before coming. And me, I am living on Falls Road and I’m drinking — most of my friends would be republican, and I’m drinkng more in republican pubs. I don’t feel not safe. So for me, the Eleventh of July or the Twelfth of July, it’s just, like, interresting. I honestly, I don’t think… I don’t feel not safe. I think like nowadays, like it’s all right. You can trust, go to see a bonfire. You’re safer than maybe 20 years before, 30 years before, obviously. But I don’t feel comfortable, because it’s not my political opinions. We don’t share the same… It’s not my “community” even though I don’t like using this word.
OK. And will you visit the bonfires when they go alight tonight?
No. No, I won’t go because it’s not something that I really enjoy. Sixty percent of my friends from Falls Road are actually tonight and tomorrow in Donegal. OK. Most of my friends are Irish and it’s like a kind of reminiscence sense from the Troubles, as well. So, they prefer like staying away from the city centre. And, yeah.
As for us, we decided to go and have a drink and watch the England-Croatia match. And we decided to come back later, just before midnight, so we could see the moment the bonfire was set alight.
Naomi, Naomi. It’s starting. Look. Ok, so a flame was just started at the very top of the bonfire.
By the time we returned to Sandy Row, the whole place had been transformed. It was dark now. There were crowds of hundreds, maybe thousands. It was difficult to tell. It was almost entirely younger adults in their 20s and 30s, and they were drinking a lot and dancing and horsing around. A lot of people actually were very, very drunk, which I suppose isn’t that unusual since this is, after all, a big holiday celebration.
There were definitely no families here. There were no bouncy castles. And it was not a welcoming atmosphere. We were pretty tense walking into the crowds and we came up with a really absurd backstory in advance that we would pretend to be Italian if anyone spoke to us. But it did… It did feel like if we were outed as who we really were, that anything could have happened.
It’s still not unusual to see banners on those bonfires reading K A T, and that stands for “Kill All Taigs” with “Taigs” being a derogatory term for Catholics. So, you know, like a genocidal intent.
We can’t just taigs in this context, though. The bonfire was there all prepared for burning anyway, and there was a heavy smell of petrol and plastic. And we could just we could make out that alongside the Irish flag at the very top, the peak of the bonfire, the EU flag had been put up as well, and that was also to be burned, which is very interesting in the context of Brexit and the border discussions. We have to be a bit subtle with our microphone. A few people kind of clocked it, and you know, it didn’t seem like they were happy we were recording.
Definitely not.
We also didn’t see any other journalists around really. So that and the booming sound system caused a little bit of distortion on our mic.
Once the fire got going, it was frankly terrifying. The flames travel up in this kind of giant spiral from the bottom very, very quickly. So the last thing to burn are the flags on the top. And at that stage, it had kind of chimney’s into this tornado of flames just gushing out this endless stream of like very, very black smoke from all the pallets.
At the very top. At the very top of the bonfire is the Irish flag — which is the sort of center piece. And you can first just start to see it take flame there. People around here are really happy about it. They’re singing and that. And I just… and Tim and I are just kind of touching each other, because it’s kind of upsetting.
From what I could see, anyway, the energy in the crowd was steadily ramping up higher and higher and it got darker and the energy got more aggressive along with the fire. You know, people started throwing empty liquor bottles at the fire itself. You know, sometimes they were just literally screaming into the fire, which is, you know, something to to behold. I think I was really taken aback by just how joyless the whole thing was. You know, it was so explicitly about anger and hate. And people seemed to want to dwell in the ugliness of it all.
I did find it particularly horrible when the Irish flag caught alight. It kind of took ages to do it. Maybe it has flame retardant or something on it. But when it finally went up, there was like a guttural roar of like satisfaction. It was the kind of climax that the whole thing. And it was just really grim and horrendous to watch.
We started to move away when the bonfire is started to collapse on the way, we bumped into a guy with a pretty impressive set of camera equipment, so we presumed he was a journalist and we thought it might be safe to talk to him.
As it turned out, that wasn’t the case. But, let’s have a listen.
The bonfires are always great. You’re always going to get a reasonably good, and reasonably good picture.
Where are you from yourself?
I’m from London.
So, what do you do with this video footage?
It all depends. Sometimes I save it for up high, sometimes I put it up online.
What part of London are you from?
Croydon.
Croydon. That’s a nice part of London.
It’s not really. It’s gone downhill quite a lot. And a lot of problems… The Home Office is flooded, is flooded with immigrants. You know, um, Somalis and all sorts of (inaudible).
Alright.
It was great when I was growing up.
What’s your connection with the Orange culture here and all that?
Um… I like the fact they’re proud to be British. I support them for that. And um, yeah.
Rather than directly confront him, we just basically sidled away as I started to think that he didn’t know at first that we weren’t from the north, but he was beginning to figure it out.
Right. So, I mean, I thought that was a really interesting facet, actually. Like that he went, too, I suppose, like racism really — straight away — as his reason for being there.
Yeah. Like, that was apropos nothing. Like we didn’t, we did not we did not prompt that. Like he just came forward with that.
Right. OK. So we began to make our way out at that stage. And I think actually getting out of the paddock was probably the scariest part actually, because we hadn’t realized while we were in front of the fire, that the crowd had really, really grown. There was just one small exit. As far as we could see anyway. And we had to push our way through these really, really dense throngs of people.
As we walked through the crowds, we realized we had to look happy or we would stand out. So we put on like big fake smiles and we kind of pretended to be like dancing and having fun and stuff.
Yeah. We probably looked like maniacs, to be honest.
Right when we got to the thickest part of the crowd where it was most difficult. We couldn’t move for Rudaw back. They started chanting and jumping, and they were chanting, “We hate Catholics.”
We’re going to walk away a bit.
Crowds chanting “We hate Catholics. Everybody hates Catholics.”
Smile Tim, it’ll make you seem more inconspicuous.
Do you remember how it felt, Tim? I mean, for me, it was a really weird, bizarre experience. Like it was particularly bizarre that we were able to kind of passing incognito with no one knowing that we were, you know, that we were Irish, we were the hated group. And when we finally got out. I remember I was like, “I need a shot of whiskey.”
Yeah. No, I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was harrowing, frankly. I knew it would be bad, obviously, but I don’t think I was prepared for the full force of the hate, really. And that was just emanating all around us. You know, we definitely needed that whiskey. My body was literally shaking as we walked away, but we were good podcast hosts, listeners and we headed straight back to our BnB, because it was time to get ready for the Glorious Twelfth the following day.
The bonfires often get used as some sort of place to make a political statement. And historically different things would have appeared on bonfires reflecting, I’d say, the politics of the time. So that, for instance, years ago you’d have got the Pope burnt on the top of bonfires. Now, I haven’t seen a pope on the top of a bonfire for a long, long time. And that’s in a sense, quite interesting. But loyalists conception of who the enemy is seems to have shifted.
The following morning, we spoke to Dominic Bryan, professor of anthropology at Queen’s University Belfast and author of Orange Parades: The Politics of Ritual, Tradition, Control.
Now you get an array of flags. Most obviously, the tricolour still gets burnt. Now, not all of them are a couple of ones I went to which had no flags on at all, which is quite interesting. And there’s quite a lot of people that argue they shouldn’t burn flags within loyalism. But you obviously get the tricolour burnt a lot. And then you get a mixture of that sort of politics which loyalism feels like it’s opposing amass. Palestinian flag. ISIS — I saw one ISIS flag up there. I’m always very careful about not overdoing the meaning of it because I tend to think it’s just about burning the flags that the others thin are important, rather than a deep knowledge of conflicts in the Middle East, for example.
We noticed the EU flag up there on on Sandy Row last night.
I noticed that, yeah. That has appeared the last two years, and I think it reflects Brexit. And I think it reflects a notion that there was obviously strong support for Brexit in some loyalist areas. Again, I think that’s quite mixed. I think if you went and asked quite a lot of people around the bonfire, not not everybody would have reflected that sort of politics. But yet that was certainly burned the other day.
We met with him and a group of his students as he was leading them to the Orange Order parades.
Dominic told us that the parades were also important in the class politics of Protestants in Northern Ireland. The processions were traditionally an opportunity to show solidarity between the working and middle class Protestants of the city.
These parades have quite a respectable element to it. There’d be plenty people in it who would want it… would want people to be well-behaved. You don’t do too much drinking. And that’s their view of what the parade is. That said, there has been historical elements who have wanted to bang the big drum as they go through Catholic areas. And, you know. And those could become effectively what a clash points as parades go through those sort of spaces. The parades were not designed to mark out Catholic areas, nor they designed even now, I think, to intimidate Catholics. I think that’s a misconception. That said, does the ritual as a whole contain elements and moments when that happens? Without a shadow of a doubt.
Dominic was pretty insistent on the plurality of these marchers. Some, he pointed out, would spend all day drinking on the street, while others were marching with temperance and abstinence badges. Some were representing their hometown, pure and simple. While, for others, it was a very religious display. For others still. It was an opportunity to make a political statement. I asked him about the role the paramilitaries play in the parades today.
Paramilitarism appears in this parade probably less so than 10 or 20 years ago. All right. And it sort of has its place in the culture. But it’s not… It’s not strikingly obvious from what takes place. You will have some of the bands play tunes, which you would, could you would call sectarian. And some of them also have paramilitary connections. So, so does that exist in the parade? Yes. Is a dominant part of the parade? Absolutely not.
And you mentioned that some of the lodges now have to attach their banners onto cars because they actually don’t have the numbers to physically hold them up. What’s behind that decline?
Interestingly, in the last few years, the Orange Order has declined in numbers quite markedly in Northern Ireland. Probably — or, the Grand Lodge of Ireland — probably gone down from around 100,000 to maybe 35,000, something like that. And so it’s gone through a period of significant decline. Collapse in industrialization and things like that has seen the Orange Order, I think, in a much weaker position in terms of membership. And you see that when you’re out on the streets, the the old pictures of lines of four Orangemen, huge length of them coming down the street gone. And, you know, you’ll have a few lodges with around 100 — maybe. But many of them are 20 and 30, and a few of them would struggle to get a dozen. And you look at the age of the Orangemen, and I think that also tells its own story.
So visually, what we saw were a lot of people dressed in band costumes. They were playing traditional tunes, carrying the banners that represented their particular groups and communities. And they very much represented community. Some members were very young. I think I spotted some that could have been four or five.
Sure, if not younger. Yeah.
Yeah. Quite a lot of them were pretty elderly as well. Members of the Orange Order are distinct among them. They wear bright orange sashes and they’re often decorated with little badges and different symbols representing different aspects of unionist culture.
The drumming was very impressive and a lot of the bandleaders, they do this thing when they throw their drumsticks in the air and they catch them quite elaborately. We found one spectator in an Orangeman sash. So, we went over to hear what he had to say about the event.
It’s more or less to sort of celebrate our religious order. The Eleventh night, which you would see a lot of controversies over the bonfires that there is, they were actually lit as a beacon to let the people in the country know that King Billy — King William — had arrived in Carrickfergus. Big ones were lit across the country. And that’s why it’s at every Eleventh night. It’s been enjoyed for years, so it has. You’ll get the odd elements no matter what you’re going into, or anything else. But, disagree with it and you’ll start a bit of an argument, nothing else. But, I mean, you can see today. And this is every Twelfth. People are out, who are enjoying themselves and nothing else. You’ll get contentious parades there in another part of the country. Where other factions don’t, uh, what do you call it, don’t agree with, you know. But they come and do it and that’s it. It’s the same with Saint Patrick’s Day. Saint Patrick’s Day is, what do you call it, the Roman Catholic side of the community said well, it’s their day. But I mean, we all live on the one island, so we are. Whether it’s north or south, you know. I’ve celebrated Saint Patrick’s Day for donkeys. I’ve also celebrated it when I was in the military. So, what’s the difference?
Further towards the city centre, the crowds began to get denser. And, there were quite a lot of young people hanging around. You could see them cracking open cans and that. We spoke to one group who were having a fantastic time, and they were all decked out in the colours of the Union Jack.
So what’s it all about then today? What’s there? What does it mean to you?
It means a lot to me. It does. I love my red, white and blue. Love it.
I don’t know. It’s just like. It’s like, I’ve been brought up with it. So I don’t know anything different than being here like today. I’ve never missed it in 21 years, like. I came here first when I was about six months old.
No! April, May, June, July — three.
Three months old, sorry. Well, three months old and I haven’t missed it since, like. So.
Will it be a big party tonight?
Oh, aye. I know where we are, where we’re going, aye.
Where are you off to then? What’s the schedule? What’s the plan?
Ack, well, we’ll be staying here and watching the parade. And then, once they’re coming home and then we’ll probably head back to the house and have a wee sash bash.
(Laughing) A sash bash.
A sash bash!
A wee sash bash, so.
We hung around at the parade for a while, but there was something that was kind of niggling at us. So the whole city center had more or less been taken over by the celebration for two days now and it seemed more and more striking that maybe part of the story isn’t who’s present, but who’s not here.
We wanted to know what this festival where like, the city center is open to unionists just to do have fun in any way they want. We wanted to know what it was like for the other half of the city who possibly felt a bit like us — intimidated and out-of-place and pretty much unwelcome.
Right. And we wanted to know how does it feel when your own city burns symbols of your identity in its main streets? Does life go on as normal? Are people used to it? Is it changing at all? We deserted the marchers and we hopped in a taxi to head over to the Falls Road. The stronghold of republicanism in Belfast.
It’s only a short drive away. You pass through a huge peace wall that leads into a Catholic district of the city, and it immediately feels like the Twelfth was on another planet here. There were also flags flying from buildings and pubs, but they were different flags.
For example, we saw the flag of Croatia. They’d just defeated England in the World Cup. So they’d been hosted over one prominent republican pub. Alongside the Croatian flag, we saw Palestinian flags, of course, the Irish tricolour. And interestingly, the gay pride flag, which we’ll get back to.
Right. Our first stop was the Rock Pub. And that’s a notorious republican hangout. It’s been the scene of multiple attacks over the years, including of the bombing of a British soldier and an RPG rocket attack.
This area, the Falls, saw some of the worst violence during the troubles, and it’s been commonly linked to republican paramilitary activity. But honestly, we had a sense of relief just crossing the peace wall and being able to speak out loud again without worrying. It didn’t matter that we were from the Republic here, of course. Probably a positive thing, if anything. Nobody batted an eyelid.
Sure. It’s worth pointing out for our international listeners that unlike Northerners or Southerners, Catholics and Protestants within Northern Ireland aren’t generally identifiable by their accents. One person we spoke to said that there was a slight tell in the way each side pronounced the letter H.I even thought about how I pronounced it there.
“Aiche” or “haitche”. Which one is which, again Tim?
The aspirated H, like we in the Republic aspirate the letter H, like “ha ha”.
“Haitche”.
While people in Britain and apparently, according to this person, Protestants in Northern Ireland say “aitche”.
Right.
But that was about it. I think. There might be more, that but we didn’t hear anything. Write in to us if there’s anything we’ve missed there. So it was really interesting that the Catholics we spoke to mentioned that it wasn’t their speech, but some aspects of their behaviour could give them away at any at any point around this time of year. Let’s hear from some of the regulars at the Rock.
Would you ever go to a parade or a bonfire?
Would I ever go to, what, a Twelfth parade?
Yes.
I was actually… I’ve been in… Well, I was coming home from um… Coming home three or four years ago from one, and I ended up in the middle of it. And I had some fear for my safety trying to get across the road to get on Castle Street. But, too many people were… Me trying to get across the road. And when I got across the road, I tried looking behind my back. Because they knew if you were going to Castle Street you were a Catholic.
So how would they know you were Catholic?
Because you’re going to Castle Street and you’re not joining in the parade. I actually feel intimidated when I’m walking across an area. I’m going to work tomorrow. I couldn’t work today. I was working yesterday. But I can’t work on the the Twelfth.
You can’t work on the Twelfth at all?
No.
Can I ask what you do?
I’m a painter-decorator.
That’s because you can’t travel?
No, because I’d be walking across an area and I’d be working on the Twelfth… You’re a Catholic.
I see. So they’d know then. And you wouldn’t feel safe.
That’s just the way it is. And that’s the way it’s always been.
So the very fact of working on this holiday could mark someone out as being a Catholic. That was really interesting to hear. One girl we spoke to in a nearby shopping center said that even though no one knew she was Catholic, she felt like she had horns when she was near the parades. Like, you know, the other people could sense it and they might spot her at any moment. That was really identifiable after our incognito visit to the Sandy Row bonfire. That feeling that you might be spotted at any moment. They can just kind of sense it.
So what’s this time of year like? Is it different? Is that like a bit quieter or what happens?
I’d say it’s probably different to two different sides of Belfast, obviously. One’s mental, and then ours is quite quiet.
Have you ever seen a parade or what goes on the other side?
Yeah, I’ve seen it. I obviously don’t go to the Twelfth, just for… I’d be scared. But, no, I have seen it and I know what it’s like.
And what is it like?
It’s just… I don’t know the reasons why they do it. Like, I haven’t paid that much attention to it, but I just know that it’s crazy. Like, they just love the party and they’re it’s all for their culture. And that’s there weekend to have so they can have that.
Can people tell like that you’re not from there, or would they like figure out that you’re from West Belfast?
Probably, yeah. Well, when I’m in that area, I feel like I’ve horns sticking out. Like they know it’s me. But they probably can’t. That’s probably just me being paranoid. I’m not really sure.
And do you have friends who’ve left, or people who’ve just got out of the city at this time?
Well, no, because the majority of my friends, they’d celebrate the Twelfth. So they’re all, they’re all there doing their thing. And then the rest of us, ok, have all just stayed indoors and stayed in that one side of the city.
Does that cause any problems between you and your friends ever?
No! Like we rip each other out all the time, like calling each other names and whatever. But it’s all just like, banter. It’s not… There’s no like harm at all. Yeah. We started like workig together when we were like eighteen. So, we’ve all kind of stuck together. And I say the majority of them are Protestants, so like they love this time of the year. And then we fight over it — not like fight, like harmful fighting — but just joking and, yeah. They just do what they want. So I just kind of, from the way I was brought up, just let them have their day and stay away from all the drama.
We headed further down the Falls Road to the famous Felons Club. That’s a club that was founded by republican ex-prisoners and internees so that they could stay in touch. It was pretty notorious during the Troubles, and it used to be raided by the RUC police force all the time. Nowadays, though, it’s a very open and lively bar and restaurant with a nice terrace out front. The place was thronged with people eating outside and there was a generally happy holiday atmosphere. You know, once again, this is a public holiday in Northern Ireland.
Let’s listen to what some of the locals there had to say about their experience of marching season in the city.
You do notice in your own street, and you know like in work and stuff. There’s a lot of people still who take their time off. Our brother’s actually Donegal.
Our brother’s in Donegal. A lot of people go to Donegal.
And my sister’s in Waterford today. So a lot of people still do leave, because a lot of, you know, thing’s aren’t open. And, you know, there’s still is a bit of tension about.
You don’t feel intimidated?
No. Well, as long as you stay to the right areas.
You would need to stay local. Like you couldn’t…
Well, we went last year. We went to Newcastle, and it took us about two hours to get home for a forty-five minute drive. So…
We got stuck behind parades.
And then, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. So you’re just as well just staying locally. You are restricted still, yeah.
But you would feel intimidated if you went out of your own area.
And you couldn’t go anywhere near the bonfires or anything like that.
Have you ever been to a parade?
God, no.
(Laughing) What’s the matter with him?
No. You would never choose to go to one.
We were talking to a few people on the other side of city yesterday who said that everyone was welcome and that it wasn’t such a big scary…
That’s repugnant.
It’s still a sectarian march.
Now, we mentioned flags there earlier. But one of the most interesting aspects of the flag politics in the Falls we found was how permanent the gay pride flag was. Next door to the Felons Club, a local print shop was covered in the pride flag from top to bottom. And we also saw them flying in various places — houses, lampposts, old man pubs — everywhere.
Yeah, there’s a lot to unpack here, actually. It was pride season during that time, which is probably why most of those flags were on the lampposts. But you also have to remember that equal marriage is still not legal in Northern Ireland.
Right. And this is largely because the biggest unionist party, the DUP, have repeatedly blocked any possibility of it happening. Many Protestants in the DUP, we might note, are quite hardcore in their religious beliefs — kind of think the long line of evangelicals in the United States, say — and many believe that homosexuality is just intrinsically wrong.
Yeah, right. So in a way, for nationalists in the Falls to fly the pride flag proudly is a bit of a two fingers to the unionist DUP. But even aside from that, flying this flag proudly is still quite a statement from a mostly Catholic community. And it aligns Northern nationalists with the new majority in the Republic who recently brought in equal marriage by this landslide popular vote a few years ago.
It’s also politically clever because it aligns nationalists with progressive and liberal values. There’s a very strong demand, particularly from a younger generation, for a positive politics that make just, you know, works to make people’s lives better rather than focusing on these old divisions. Again and again. And the gay rights issue is a rallying point for progressive and unaligned people across the spectrum. And it’s quite a strong contrast with some strands of unionism that are kind of doubling down on their conservatism.
There was one more reason for the particular access of pride flags in the Felons Pub, though. The previous night, loyalists had stolen the pride flag from the print shop. This was in order to put it on their bonfire — we were told, anyway. So now the street was hanging them out in force, in response. We spoke to one man we spotted in the club wearing a pride t-shirt, and he told us what had been going on in the last few days.
Um, well, let’s just start on the pride flag. Obviously, it is the month of July, which is more or less represented for the pride itself. Not that I’d be swinging that way myself. I’ve got two kids to back that up. I do think that everybody deserves an equal chance in life, especially those who are a bit more prone to prejudice. People obviously just want people to be true and equal. Myself included. I couldn’t care less your nationality is, your religion, your sexual background is. Why should people bother? I think people are starting to realize that the people should not be too involved in other people’s lives.
So, Tim, what was your biggest takeaway from all of this?
Well, of course, the whole thing was a really fascinating experience. I suppose it’s a kind of a cliché to take away from Northern Ireland. But I was amazed, again, just at the extent to which people go on with their normal lives in the shadow of this incredibly divisive and traumatic activity going on around them. On the one hand, I was really balked by the extent to which unionists seemed to be able to take over the city. That they have this kind of unquestioned run of the place, and that that’s based on an underlying implicit threat of violence. On the other hand, though, I was so impressed and charmed by that lovely couple that we met at the first bonfire. And by that whole atmosphere actually in the Donegall Pass. And when you see things like that, you can definitely see how this whole festival could very feasibly be made inclusive and violence free and something for the whole community. You know, the main celebrations are focused on these 300 year old historical victories. And they, you know, undoubtedly played a really important role in the whole culture and history of the province. There’s no reason why everyone shouldn’t be able to join in in a festival that’s based around that. So maybe, maybe you could catch a glimpse of the parades and the bonfires having a different future in a peaceful Northern Ireland. Maybe in the next generation or two, who knows? One last thing that really hit me here, more so than in Derry, actually was a kind of frustration in the nationalist community with us, basically with us from the south. You know, when we were asking questions about this, you know, a lot of people, you know, just kind of sighed. They sighed at us. Like at our own relative knowledge gap about these incredibly significant things that were happening just a few kilometres over the border. Now, what about you, Naomi? What did you take away?
Yeah, I remember those moments as well. Like people just looked at us like, what are you an idiot? Like, if we’d ask them, like, so what’s the Twelfth? What’s that all about? You know, people who like looking at us like, “what’s wrong with you?”
As if we didn’t really know. Yeah.
I mean, obviously, we ask questions like that because we want them to explain it in their own words, not because we don’t know anything. But, you know, we were being the ignorant and cosseted Southerners in that moment. And we really got a sense of the frustration. You know, like that they deal with day to day and like, you know, we’re just totally, kind of ignoring it and not not engaging with it.
For sure.
The other thing is there are so many stories that we could have told and didn’t hear because I mean, we’re talking about an entire city. We’re talking a lot of diversity here. So, for example, we were told about and, you know, provisionally sort of invited to a barbecue that happens of people from all sorts of different backgrounds and who I don’t identify as any either that they have, you know, every year on the Twelfth, kind of as a gathering for people who don’t kind of care or engage in the Twelfth in one way or another, you know. So that shows you that, like, there is there’s a whole huge middle ground, as always.
Sure. Yeah. And we were also invited to East Belfast to hang out with some progressive loyalists on the Twelfth to chat with them about why the day is important for them. And those were people who would have no problem. We should say flying the pride flag or anything, who would identify as working class, unprogressive, but very much loyalist at the same time. And unfortunately, it was really sad, that was a side we didn’t get to explore because the situation was getting just a little bit too tense in East Belfast and we were having major problems with transport. So we couldn’t really rely on getting there safely and back again. So sorry, guys, but in the end, we’re really just glad we got to make the trip at all, I think.
We really wanted to go there because it’s this huge cultural event that we really don’t get to know about really, at all. And we wanted to see if we could understand it. That was my my main thing is it’s something that one day potentially we could be a part of. Could we all celebrate this together? But also, I really wanted to make this episode, so that there would be a way of telling people in Britain that this goes on as well. Because every now and again, there are these sort of, like, a little bit of token media coverage maybe about it. But you get the sense, you just get the sense that nobody knows anything about it. And I wish they would. You know, I wish that they that they knew. So hopefully, this, I don’t know… Maybe people can maybe listen to this as a way in.
Yeah, we’re looking like we’re looking at you Karen Bradley.
Oh, my God, Tim. Yeah. We’re recording this just after Karen Bradley, the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, has admitted that she didn’t even know the politics was divided along community lines in Northern Ireland before she became secretary of state for Northern Ireland. And that she had never been to the province, either. So…
At this stage, we’re just checking our…
Like in a really grim way, not surprising. You know, like the last Secretary of States also, were completely ignorant, but like to just sort of blithely say that, not even afraid of the consequences, like that’s that’s something in itself, isn’t it?
Yeah, absolutely. I think she could do actually with maybe retracing our steps in Belfast over the Twelfth to get a window in. One last thing I think that is important to say is that our last episode, of course, was a little kind of encapsulated history of Derry. But you know, Belfast is a lot bigger than the Twelfth, and the Twelfth is a lot bigger than Belfast. We’re not trying to align the two in any way. This is just our experience of these two days.
Before we go, we have to say I’m really heartfelt thank you to our Patreon donors. These last two episodes would not be possible without you.
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Yes. And support like this has just kind of opened the doors for what’s possible for us on the podcast. Thank you so much for just helping us to bring the podcast to a new level.
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Slán, everyone.