Getting out of town

Welcome to South Armagh, circa 1997.


I’ve felt for some time that my grasp of things here are limited in two important ways. First, I have far too few contacts in the Loyalist community. Nearly everyone I talk to when I come here are either Nationalists* (political or not) or fall somewhere on the Republican spectrum. Second, my vision is skewed by the amount of time I spend in Belfast. That’s not to say that the city was not and is not central, but politics in Northern Ireland has always had a profound rural-urban divide on top of the other divisions that are so prevalent.

Now both of these limitations are understandable. I talk mainly to Republicans because they’re the specific focus of my current research. And I meet mainly Nationalists because most of the relationships I’ve made over the years are with members of that community, and the places I tend to go when I am out socializing are where they feel comfortable. In short, you’re more likely to find me in a City Centre place like Kelly’s or Maddens or the Duke of York than you are to find me at the Royal Bar** in Sandy Row or the Rex Bar on the Shankill. The Unionists*** I’ve met and built relationships with have been from the uniformly respectable ranks of the middle and upper classes, and while their views are interesting, they were in many ways spared some of the worst aspects of the violence that unfolded. For example, a fellow once confided to me, as we walked into Ulster Hall for a performance of the symphony, that for him the Troubles were little more than a nuisance consisting of closed roads and unpleasant news on the television.

And I’ve spent nearly all my time in Belfast because the first contacts I made were Belfast-based, rental cars are expensive, driving on the wrong side totally freaks me out, and public transportation via trains and buses is really very good and is comparatively affordable. So far everywhere I’ve needed to go has been accessible via public transit. But as I said, all of these factors have come together to narrow my vision. So this week I am getting an opportunity to do something about that.

On Wednesday I am meeting a contact who has agreed to show me around South Armagh, which was some of the most dangerous territory in Northern Ireland when things were bad here. This is the part of the country, along the border with the Republic, where the British Army built hilltop forts and watchtowers but for years could only move between them by helicopter since the IRA controlled the countryside. The iconic sign at the top of the post was no joke. You can look it up. And things remain rather unsettled there, despite the relative calm that prevails most everywhere else. My guide is an uncompromising Loyalist who considers the peace process a sham.

So now I will get to see what happens when I take seriously my own rules about talking to everyone and meeting them on their own turf if that’s what makes them comfortable. Stay tuned …

*A totally unsatisfactory label, but better in some ways than “Catholics” since many of the people I meet from this background are either atheists or non-observant. Labels are even more politically loaded here than they are at home.

**Actually, I did spend a very pleasant evening in the Royal Bar several years ago after attending a Loyalist flute band parade through Sandy Row. So I’d go back, but my friends won’t enter the neighborhood, so that’s a problem.

***Another of those pesky labels. I could get in to the differences here between Loyalists and Unionists, but that would be a digression … not that I’m above digressions. Maybe I’ll have something to say about that another day,