(Poelker) The Colony of Ulster

I looked up from my book and out the window of the tour bus to see, flying over the green fields of Ireland, the Union Jack. “We must be in Ulster,” I thought and the reality of this colony set in. With no warning we had crossed the imaginary line into Northern Ireland and the British Empire, where my Euros were useless and I imagined, naively, that half of the people were running around shouting “God save the queen” and the other half were cursing her name.

When I got a chance to wander around a little bit the next afternoon, I got a much different picture of the city. Sure there was the odd British flag, but most of the imagery had to do with corporations. After the probably the most authentic Cuban sandwich of my life (made by an immigrant from a different colonized island, conquered by another empire) I stepped out of the Belfast market in search of my friends. They were not, as expected, at the pub next door which gave me the opportunity to explore the city centre at my own pace. Since I wasn’t in the mood for a shopping trip to the Gap or H&M, or any of the other international corporations who’ve put down their feet in industry hub that makes Belfast so valuable to the UK, I started looking for a quiet place to enjoy a pint of the black or a cup of coffee--any dark liquid to take the edge off of the weary afternoon.

On one of Belfast’s busiest streets, I almost didn’t notice one small indication of unrest in the midst of the corporate mecca that the “powers that be” would have its people believe that Belfast has become.  On the side of bus-stop awning an advert depicting a fried chicken “SNACK BOX” claimed that this greasy fare was the choice of the so-called “STR££T WISE.” But the clever substitution of the symbol for the pound was subverted by black-and-white flyer slapped across the restaurant logo asking, “Can the dictatorship be defeated?” A meeting of the Socialist Party would take place at 2pm that afternoon in which a “Hong Kong socialist” would preach revolution against oppressive rulers and their imposition of will in a speech called “CHINESE WORKERS STRIKE BACK.”

It’s been said that the violence in Belfast has receded in part because people have more money. People don’t want to bomb each other if they have enough to eat, etc. But perhaps for the militant protestor depicted on this poster, for whoever had the guts to print it out and post in on that wall, and for those who showed up at the meeting, there is a new oppressor: capital. I don’t know the full effect of British colonization in Hong Kong, or what it’s like to work in Belfast, but I can understand how the need to rebel will never disappear. Some people are always going to get fucked over by the system, and some of those people are inevitably going to get mad.