Times have changed
By Brian Campbell
The other day I drove through the gates of Stormont for the first
time and when I saw the splendid building on top of the hill at the
end of the mile-long, tree-lined drive, the hairs stood up on the
back of my neck.
This was - like so many colonial seats of governments - a piece of
architecture designed to inspire and also to intimidate.
The Stormont Parliament Building in the Unionist heartland of East
Belfast was opened in 1932 at a time when British imperialism still
had its necessary confidence and arrogance. In the newly established
statelet of `Northern Ireland' this solid seat of a Unionist
parliament - with its sweeping view over Harland and Wolff shipyard
and the other industries which excluded Catholics - spoke of
permanence and domination.
How Unionist hearts must have swelled as they strode through those
gates and saw the gleaming white building on the hill.
d how nationalists must have burnt with resentment and humiliation
as they looked upon this pillared symbol of their exclusion from
power. It is significant that hardly any nationalists ever saw
Stormont in real life - their view of it was confined to pictures and
newsreels and television screens. I asked family, friends and
neighbours of all ages, and not a single one had ever seen the
building for real, nor did they know anyone who had been there,
except in recent months.
For over forty years Stormont was the seat of one-party rule which
presided over discrimination, gerrymandering and repression. It was
not a place nationalists cared to visit, nor would they have been
welcome if they had. But it was a place with special meaning for
Unionists because it symbolised their power and security in their own
place - it truly was, in their own words, a Protestant parliament for
a Protestant people.
The very fabric of the building speaks of Unionist power, beginning
with the statue of Edward Carson, the Unionist hero who stands guard
at the top of the drive. Inside, more Unionist icons and imperial
symbols send a clear message to any nationalist who may find
themselves there.
These trappings make the sanctuary of the Sinn Féin offices all the
more welcome. The party has over 20 offices - one for each of their
Assembly members and others for meetings and administration. The
state-of-the-art computers, faxes and office furniture are a world
away from the usually decrepit premises and barely functioning
equipment which activists have used over the years. Revolutions are
always made on a shoestring.
Among the Sinn Féin people in Stormont are many who had been in jail.
And it struck me that their very presence, their easy informality
allied with a professional approach and their healthy disrespect for
rules and procedures was as subversive here as it had been in the
jails.
It also struck me that there is a feeling of delighted defiance and
it is impossible not to share in it. To walk along the corridors of
Stormont as if you owned the place is to put two fingers up to a
lifetime of Unionist and British domination.
No wonder Unionists are fighting so hard to keep Sinn Féin from
taking their seats in a new Executive and on the all-Ireland
Ministerial Council. For the Unionist political leadership, the very
fact that Sinn Féin occupies a part of this hallowed building is
almost impossible to stomach. It is the ultimate shock to their
political system.
What the Sinn Féin presence in Stormont symbolises is that everything
has changed. Not only are nationalists and republicans ready to take
their share of power but they are doing so in an administration which
has an all-Ireland dimension which will forever change the face of
politics in Ireland. Despite what Unionists say, that is what they
signed up to in the Good Friday Agreement. Their only way out is to
bring down the Agreement.
But what the Sinn Féin presence also symbolises is that Unionists
cannot turn the clock back. The castle walls have been breached and
the rebels are swarming all over the fine furniture. They are ready
to turn the place upside down and, ultimately, there is nothing the
Unionist leadership can do about it.
So, instead of talking about ``a life outside politics'' David Trimble
should embrace the new realities - something he should have done nine
months ago - and accept that the old certainties which Stormont
represents for him no longer hold true. Times have changed.