Is It Time to Move On?

I’ve been around for 63 years now…and have lived in Belfast all that time. From a small semi at the bottom of Stockman’s Lane before the M1 was constructed to the edge of East Belfast. From quiet political Unionism through the political turmoil of the Troubles to end up today with relative peace. I remember my late Mum’s comments when the first riots in Derry were reported, a joke from Mr Radcliffe the butcher, “Gerry Fitt went to Derry for a laugh and came back in stitches!”. My father’s solutions, “if they don’t like it here they can all move to the Free State!” “They should go up there and sort them out once and for all”.

At Inst we had our one Catholic in our year, Jim Gillen. We heard bombs, knew where to go to get a bus, avoiding Great Victoria Street on a Friday because the Europa would be being bombed or there would be a scare. I answered a quiz question at Scouts about the name given to an IRA bomb type, the Castle Robben Mark Three. I was Unionist by default, not having the information to be anything else.

Then Queens. Radicalised to use modern terminology, but radicalised by truth, and cross community friendships forged in the Student’s Union raising money through Rag. A relationship with a young lady from a family of eleven. Studying history and politics. Dad going ballistic when the education he wanted me to have turned me into a son he couldn’t relate to anymore.

And on and on, but always optimistic. Always of the view that the violence would end. That alternatives would be found. That politics would revert to elections and debate, anger, and division but expressed with language and not weapons.

And now, married to a wonderful woman from Dublin, with children who prefer Irish to British, and wind me up about it, discussions around identity sometimes, but more often social issues that were not even issues when we were young.

So has the time come, is there enough distance, to look back and see that the people of Ireland/Northern Ireland are not naturally more violent than others?

To say aloud that all the people who were protagonists were driven by the context of the political environment. That on all sides of the conflict, loyalist and nationalist, the thousands of young men and women who became involved were driven by the circumstances? That they would have led normal lives, struggled with the everyday ups and downs of jobs, family, health, and education were it not for the situation in Northern Ireland or the Six Counties, whatever you want to call this piece of silent land.

And time to stop pointing and blaming, to stop refusing to engage with each other because of 800 years, or this dreadful event or that one. To grow up as the countries did following the horrors of WW2, who within years were working together to prevent it ever happening again?

A memorial to all that died, every single person, in the grounds of Stormont, to remind our politicians that it was political failure that killed all the victims. To drive them to do their utmost to prevent it ever happening again. No argument about who should or shouldn’t be there because they are all the result of the failure of politics and politicians. So that people who directly had loss can see that they are remembered, but also that we can all see that each individual had a family and loss is the same for every mother or father.

This is not to forget, or to side with one or other, but to recognise that there are two completely different histories in this place and unless we bring them together to understand each other we will never move forward.

And to forgive, to share the past not use it to continue the anger. To look forwards.