Republican News · Thursday 4 July 2002

A difficult walk into history

BY JIM GIBNEY

The walk itself wasn't too far. It wasn't even a 'dander' in Belfast parlance, more of an amble or a short stroll of a Sunday afternoon. It would be over in a minute if you walked too fast. There was little exertion; no breath loss involved not even a flutter of a heartbeat. But tens of thousands of people's eyes were watching.

In over 80 years, no one else in republican Ireland had ever walked the distance or even thought about walking the distance.

The walk and the walkers were resplendent of symbolism: ten Sinn Féin Councillors, including Mayor Alex Maskey, former Sinn Féin Councillor Sean Mc Knight and Liam Maskey, Alex's brother, walked the 200 yards and broke the mould of nationalist and republican history.

The occasion: the 86th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme last Monday. The location: Belfast City Hall. The event: Mayor Maskey laying a laurel wreath at the cenotaph to Irish First World War dead.

The whole affair - the walk, the laying of a wreath, the minute's silence was over in less than five minutes. The consequences, both timing and impact, would, I guessed, last for a more indefinite period into the future.

As the bells of the Presbyterian Assembly headquarters peeled 9am under a threatening Belfast sky, Mayor Maskey, dressed in funereal attire and chain of office, stepped forward from the Sinn Féin group.

In his hands was a laurel wreath, deliberately chosen by Sinn Féin. The laurel wreath, circular and evergreen, represents eternal memory and life.

Alex, an imposing figure dressed in black against the light grey texture of the City Hall granite, stood in dignified silence in front of the cenotaph for a minute after laying the wreath. The inscription on the wreath reflected republican sentiments for the occasion. It read: "In memory of all the men who made the supreme sacrifice at the Battle of the Somme and during the First World War and in recognition of the sorrow, suffering and sense of loss of their relatives, friends and comrades".

This inscription from Mayor Maskey summed up the republican approach to this controversial event, which had caused much soul searching inside republican circles since Sinn Féin first mooted it shortly after Alec was elected Mayor of Belfast on 5 June.

As we left the scene I heard two unionist onlookers: "Can you believe that? Can you fucking believe what is happening?" I noticed an elderly man, a solitary figure, move to the cenotaph after Alex left. He stood in silence and wept. I later found out he was a nationalist from the Falls Road whose grandfather was killed at the Somme. Alex's presence at the Cenotaph made it easier for the man, for the first time in his life, to publicly pay a tribute to his grandfather.

A short time later I sat beside Sean McKnight in the Council chamber. We observed from the gallery the proceedings. Looking at me and looking down at the same time was the frowning face of a huge portrait of Queen Victoria on a wall opposite where we were sitting.

Below us were the seats used by the King and Queen of England when they opened the first unionist parliament, which was based in the City Hall. Beside them was the table used by unionists to sign, some in their own blood, the 'Ulster Covenant' in 1912. All around us was British and unionist regalia.

I felt very little of the warmth that was supposed to replace the 'cold house' for nationalists which David Trimble said unionists had created after partition but which he promised would warm up following the adoption of the Good Friday Agreement.

Before proposing the formal Council motion Alec made it clear that it was unacceptable to him but a shortage of time and sensitivity left him with no other choice but to propose it

In what could be interpreted as acknowledgement of Sinn Féin's 'monumental step' in the words of the Lord Mayor, former unionist Mayor Jim Rodgers was quick on his feet to second Alex's motion. All councillors then stood for a minute silence.

In those few moments of contemplation, I was struck by the fact that the motion, in its narrow focus on the 36th Ulster Division, airbrushed out of history the many other First World War Irish soldiers who died along with those from the 36th Division.

As I stood in silence I looked forward to the day when a unionist Mayor of Belfast would reciprocate Alex's gesture and attend a ceremony for Ireland's republican dead.

A few minutes later, I was standing where I stood earlier watching the Sinn Féin councillors approach the Cenotaph. Only this time I was surrounded by the armed wing of the British government and the unionist establishment, churches and parties.

armed platoon of the Royal Irish Regiment, formerly the UDR, were on parade. The UDR, notorious for their sectarian killings of Catholics, were never made accountable for their actions. In the corner, the RUC/PSNI band played and around the cenotaph, now bedecked in union flags, more military personnel were on display. Prayers were said for all those who died during the First World War but special mention was made of those in the 36th Ulster Division. As the ceremony came to a close, the British national anthem was played.

I have no doubt that most of those attending this ceremony did so for genuine reasons but it is quite clear that unionist councillors have used the memory of the sacrifice of the 36th Ulster Division as a badge of loyalty to 'their' state and their unionist view of the world. As a result of this unionist policy, many soldiers of Irish regiments in the British Army who died in the First World War were and are excluded from any formal act of remembrance.

Belfast republicans in the person of Alex Maskey took a bold and correct decision to lay a wreath at the cenotaph. I hope it generates the much-needed debate about remembering our dead in a way that enhances the living.