No more bombing no more murder
No more killing of our sons
No more standing at the grave side
Having to bury our loved ones
No more waiting up every hour
Hoping our children they come home
No more maimed or wounded people
Who have suffered all alone
No more minutes to leave a building
No more fear of just parked cars
No more looking over our shoulders
No more killing in our bars
No more hatred from our children
No more. No more. No more!
For a brief moment, I saw the image of a peaceful Belfast. Protestant Dylan Wilson reached for Catholic Dearbhla Ward's hand and I reached for a frame of reference to help me make sense of the conflict that shaped an entire city. Belfast has a history that precedes itself, a history that lines the still-segregated streets and pollutes the heavy air. When I arrived in Belfast, I was instantly aware of how little I knew about that history: the Troubles, the organized crime, the eventual peace agreement. I hadn't researched the history of the tension nor kept up with the city's more recent events. Though I arrived in Belfast oblivious, it wasn't long before the city itself spoke to me of its history. With its strikingly political murals, partitioned neighborhoods, and post-apocalyptic atmosphere, Belfast has a history I had to experience to understand.
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| Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images |
We seek nothing but the elementary right implanted in every man: the right if you are attacked, to defend yourself.
This freshly painted loyalist mural stands in East Belfast, off Newtownards Road--just blocks away from the "No More" mural. I listened to the tour guide's nonchalant drawl and wondered how two dramatically opposing ideas could exist and even thrive in such close quarters. Every day unassuming citizens walk past these two gun-wielding loyalist rebels and simply continue with their lives, without giving the mural a second thought. This deep-seated struggle has intrinsically dictated the city's growth, making such evidence of the Troubles commonplace--entirely normal.
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| virtualvisit-northernireland.com |
I hardly think that stardom is the way to refer to 20th century Belfast. Its notoriety, its conflicted and dangerous history, etc., might be better. When you refer to East Belfast/West Belfast, be sure to capitalize the direction as well as the city.It is historically true that the murals of the unionists/loyalists are much more bellicose than those of the nationalist/republicans. They also look like ninjas or criminals, and, in fact, both groups have turned to crime much more heavily since the peace accords. Nice piece.
ReplyDeleteI really liked your use of quotes from the murals. I see the city in a similar way, the divide is still very present throughout parts of the city and it really gets a person thinking. Your use of language was great and the picture you painted of the city through your writing was very distinct.
ReplyDeleteGood job bringing the reader into the piece by 'reaching for a frame of reference,' and then giving it to us. I share your confusion regarding the coexistence of such radically opposing ideals, especially so close to each other. Do you think the citizens are really unassuming though? I've been wondering this myself: How do these murals and messages affect the people that grow up there, from childhood to adulthood? The abundance of masked men and armaments and the color red and severed hands must have a psychological effect on the people.
ReplyDeleteI like this piece-easy to read, bringing the language of the murals, yet still dealing with a complex prob. The last paragraph has some contridictory ideas in it.
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