Ed Shevlin
Pat Finucane Centre
Belfast, Ireland
As a Human Rights Fellow, I have my work before me. My project demands a huge amount of my time, but my curiosity about the application of human rights here in the north of Ireland extends far beyond the library and my project at the Pat Finucane Centre.
The multifaceted city of Belfast presents many opportunities for one to observe how both the Unionist and Nationalist communities assert their human rights. One of the most obvious statements of political affiliation comes in the form of large murals which adorn the sides of buildings and other structures. These murals serve not only as a display of political affiliation, but also as an outlet for artistic talent which resides within the community. But another function of these large murals is rather ominous: they exist as a warning to outsiders that the neighborhood wherein the mural is displayed is sectarian—that is to say, the area is either Nationalist/Catholic or Loyalist/Protestant.
Upon my arrival at the bus station in Belfast a month ago, I was immediately put on notice that I was in the Unionist stronghold of Sandy Row when I went outside to wait for my landlady in the car park. Although I was well aware of the existence of Sandy Row, I had no idea that it was located in the city center. Looking across the street, I saw a massive mural of the Protestant King William, the victor over the Catholic King James II at the Battle of the Boyne some 325 years ago. The battle took place on the 12th of July 1690 and is still celebrated by the Unionist community as an example of their superiority in the north of Ireland.
The 12th of July is the biggest day on the Unionist calendar and is celebrated with parades and bonfires all across the north of Ireland. I visited these celebrations against the advice of friends both old and new as it is important to me that I learn about these things firsthand.
What I witnessed was disturbing. Preparations for the parades and bonfires begin well in advance of the 12th of July, as was made obvious to me on my first day in the city. Just next to the King Billy mural, in the parking lot of the Days Inn Hotel was a 60-foot-high pyre of wooden pallets to be torched at the stroke of midnight on the eve of 12 July. The pyre was still under construction when I first saw it. Several people told me that it is under constant scrutiny by its builders (some actually live within the structure) to prevent premature immolation by Nationalists.
The big parade in Belfast was, in my opinion, an expression of hatred for those who oppose the union with Britain, just as much as it was a celebration of that union. So contentious are the thousands of parades that take place in Northern Ireland throughout the month of July that a special entity was created to regulate them. The Northern Ireland Parades Commission has the final say as to where a parade may be routed, what music may be played, and who may participate.
