By Nicole Lund, DIS, Cross Cultural Communications student
Belfast is a city still so divided after decades of animosity that an imposing wall stands between the Catholic and Protestant areas.
Seeing it cut through the landscape, hovering over houses and separating neighbors, left a deep impression on me.
Before coming to Belfast I knew that the issues between Catholics and Protestants, Republicans and Loyalists, were still present, but the full extent of those problems didn’t hit me until I took a tour of the Shankill and Falls Roads and saw that wall.
I was immediately reminded of the Berlin Wall, and found it difficult to wrap my head around the fact that the residents of Belfast chose to divide themselves in such a physical way from their neighbors.
However, during my guided tour of the Shankill Road I was made more aware of the thought processes of the Protestant portion of the Belfast population in terms of their division.
The Shankill Road is the main street of the Protestant area of town, the Falls Road is the Catholic equivalent, and is designated by several murals like the one in the above picture. These colorful murals are used to glorify the Protestant heroes as well as remember the dead.
I was most struck by the strong emotional impact of the murals, which utilized vivid language and often violent imagery to promote the Protestant cause.
The above image is a good representation of this effect. Five smiling men wearing everyday clothes and wielding large guns are standing ready for conflict, with the classic Protestant symbol above them displaying the words “For Gold and Ulster”. This is the slogan of the UVF, Ulster Volunteer Force, a Loyalist paramilitary group known for its violence towards the Irish Catholic population of Belfast during the Troubles. While the group officially declared a ceasefire in 1994, members are still active today and the organization still has a criminal reputation.
Seeing this symbol on a prominent mural communicates that UVF is still supported in the Protestant areas. This fact is not entirely surprising, but it is troubling considering that hundreds of people walk by this mural everyday, making the symbol a normal sight.
One of the most thought-provoking parts of the tour happened when someone asked if these murals promoted even more conflict in the area. Confused, our guide explained that Catholics don’t venture into this part of town and therefore can’t get offended by it.
What was obvious to everyone except him was that the question was geared toward local Protestants, not Catholics. What happens when young Protestants see this mural everyday? Do they start to believe that violence against Catholics is heroic? Do they aspire to be like the men depicted?
Our guide didn’t see it that way, but all I could think about was how different my life would be had I grown up in an environment like that, so weighed down by anger over the past. But that right there is the point: This man grew up during the Troubles and was heavily influenced by the conflict around him, experiencing violent attacks from i.e. IRA on the Catholic side, while I did not.
There is no way that I can fully understand his point of view, or look at these murals through the eyes of the people who live here and walk by it everyday.
Walking along the Shankill Road and observing the murals painted on walls every few feet was an enlightening experience to say the least. It was as if I could feel the tension and animosity around me, even though on the outside the street wasn’t much different from any other. It is very clear on both sides that the generation who lived through the Troubles does not want the time to be forgotten, painting murals that only seem to encourage the cycle of violence between Catholics and Protestants.
I have learned from this visit to Belfast that grief and rage can be interchangeable, hurting everyone, from those who don’t want to move on to those who have no choice but to be reminded of the conflict everyday.
Cross Cultural Communications in Belfast 