The event on Tuesday last week, at Queens
University, to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the Good Friday
Agreement, was an opportunity to reminisce about the difficulties we all faced
at that time, and the lessons for today.
An earlier event organised by Féile an Phobail at
St. Mary’s College on the Falls Road put the spotlight on the positive and
constructive role of the community and voluntary sector in the peace process.
This aspect of the Good Friday Agreement and of the peace process has never
been properly examined or appreciated. It was also particularly appropriate
that Féile organised the event given that this year Féile celebrates its 30th
birthday.
For those of you too young to remember west Belfast
in 1988 was a militarised war zone. Heavily armed British troops
and RUC officers occupied our streets. British Army and RUC forts like Jericho,
Henry Taggart, Silver City, Pegasus, dominated the streetscape and main roads.
As part of their efforts at control the British
constantly monitored the movement of people. The military bases on top of Divis
Tower and the Nurses flats at Broadway, along with cameras on every fort and
barracks, constantly observed people. House and street searches, military
roadblocks and stop and search operations were a regular feature of life. And
everything was noted for intelligence purposes. I remember the Brits boasting
on one occasion of stopping three quarters of a million vehicles in one
two-week period!
There was also the ever present threat of sectarian
attack by unionist death squads, often operating in collusion with British
state forces and the IRA was active. Conflict was a constant in the life of
this community.
The catalyst for Féile was the killing in Gibraltar
of three young IRA Volunteers from this area; Mairead Farrell, Seán Savage and
Dan McCann.In
the two weeks that followed nine more people died - another four from this
constituency. The
people of this proud community were demonised and labelled by some as savages
and animals. Féile an Phobail was our response to this. It was our way of
demonstrating to the world that the people of west Belfast are a
generous, humorous, talented, gifted and inclusive community.
We were lucky in one respect. The system of discrimination and
inequality employed for decades by Unionists and the British had forced
nationalist communities to fall back on our own resourcefulness, ingenuity and
determination.
For example, after the pogroms of 1969, and the introduction of
internment by the British, we witnessed the largest movement of a civilian
population within Europe since the end of World War 2. Thousands of families
were forced to flee their homes. I remember many being rehoused by us in
half-finished homes in Twinbrook, Andersonstown, Moyard and other places. There
were no windows, floors, doors or heating. These houses were literally built
around these families. Incidentally the unionist parties campaigned against the
building of Poleglass which was intended to ease the housing crisis.
In the midst of riots and street fighting the bus services often
collapsed. Out of that shambles emerged the Black Taxi service. Political
vetting too was an integral part of the British state’s efforts to marginalise
and isolate republicans and anyone else deemed disloyal by them. Community
groups suffered cuts in funding, and jobs were lost as a result of this policy,
which was supported by the SDLP and the local Catholic Bishop. Despite all of
this wonderful projects like Conway Mill survived and are now flourishing.
This
is because the people and the community groups of west Belfast refused to
acquiesce to any of this. In 1993 their strength and resilience helped break
the demonization policy of two governments. On that occasion President Mary
Robinson visited Belfast. She was invited by community leaders in west Belfast
to attend “A Celebration of Culture and Creativity”. I was on the list of
attendees. The late Inez McCormack and Eileen Howell, and others still active
today, played a central role in this initiative.
The
British were outraged. West Belfast was the so-called ‘terrorist community’.
They refused to allow the visit. Then when the President insisted that she was
going to come she was refused diplomatic security protection.
The
response of the Irish establishment wasn’t much better. Labour leader Dick
Spring made several efforts to persuade Mary Robinson to pull out of the visit.
When that failed Irish government officials tried to ensure that I wasn’t
invited and when that didn’t work, that I would not meet the President, and
most definitely we would not shake hands.
In
the face of this official hostility by two governments the west Belfast
community remained rock solid. To her credit so did President Robinson. But the
visit unleashed a torrent of abuse against her. The Sunday Independent, which
at that time was consistently attacking John Hume for just talking to me,
called on her to resign.
Later the antagonism of officialdom toward west Belfast again reared
its ugly head when I organised a meeting between the Board of the Bunscoil from
the Shaws Road Gaeltacht and British Secretary of State Mo Mowlam. For years
the west Belfast community had financially supported a Naiscoil and Bunscoil
with no state backing and against the opposition of an antagonistic Department
of Education.
Mo told me before the meeting that her intention was to give the Shaws
Road Bunscoil funding for the first time. She said she had not told her
officials. When the meeting ended, and we left her office having been told
funding was to be granted, one of the Department officials whispered to one of
the Bunscoil delegation; “We’ll get you
in the long grass”. I brought the delegation and the culprit straight back
into Mo Mowlam again and we faced him down in front of his boss.
In September 1997 when Sinn Féin finally entered into talks we were
inundated with messages of support from local community groups which faxed,
posted or hand delivered messages of solidarity. I know that the Sinn Féin
negotiating team was encouraged and sustained by that support. More importantly
I am convinced that without the courage and steadfastness of community leaders
and activists during the decades of discrimination and violence the search for
peace would have been much more difficult.
The community and voluntary sector of west Belfast sector is owed a
great debt of gratitude. Without their resilience and commitment to equality,
respect and inclusivity there would be no Good Friday Agreement.
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