6 Things We Learned about Northern Ireland in 2021

A review of 2021 in Northern Ireland from Michael Bennett of the AltUlsters Project

(1) Brexit is hurting Northern Ireland

English nationalism has caused many problems for the people of Northern Ireland but the fallout from Brexit has become one of the biggest.

Sectarian rioting in Belfast, 2021

It is worth remembering that the people of Northern Ireland voted to remain part of the EU in 2016 — a fact that has often been ignored by the government in England (a theme I will return to later). It is also evident that, mindful of the benefits of trade with the South, most people in the North (reluctantly or otherwise) support the temporary arrangements known as ‘the Protocol.’

This fact is lost on many right-wing Unionist politicians who have chosen to make the Protocol a constitutional issue. The subsequent wrangling over trading and border issues has been a gift to sectarian nationalisms within Northern Ireland, with new divisions over Brexit feeding and reviving older senses of difference, destabilising cross-community engagements and putting the peace process itself in jeopardy.

The spring and summer of 2021 saw a revival of street violence, with attacks on the police and rioting (with a distinctive sectarian flavour) in many parts of Belfast. Instead of leading their constituents away from confrontation, Unionist leaders have sought to ride on this wave for short-term political gain. It is a risky strategy even for Unionism itself: recent opinion polls show the main unionist party (the DUP) has recovered some of the support it was losing earlier in 2021 but it remains well behind Sinn Fein in the polls.

This is probably because voters in Northern Ireland as a whole rank debates around the Protocol and constitutional issues well below those of health, recovery from the pandemic and the economy in importance. By making the fallout from Brexit an ideological issue, the British government and many politicians in Northern Ireland are (once again) ignoring the wishes and interests of the people they are supposed to represent.

(2) Hardline Unionists are stuck in panic mode

Opinion polls in early 2021 made bad reading for hardline Unionists in Northern Ireland — especially those from the largest party, the DUP.

A right-wing Unionist protest, summer 2021

As the year began, the DUP leader Arlene Foster was First Minister of Northern Ireland, presiding over a party that had received over 30% of votes at the 2019 Westminster election. When polls in January revealed that DUP support had slumped to just 19% and that the DUP were now trailing Sinn Fein by 5–6 percentage points, a sense of panic overwhelmed the party.

A group of DUP MPs and MLAs wrote a letter calling for Foster to resign. On April 28th the First Minister announced her resignation and the election for a new leader began. Support was split between the hardliner Edwin Poots and the ‘moderate’ Jeffrey Donaldson; in the end the former triumphed by a narrow majority of 19 to 17. Poots, however, lasted just 21 days in his new post. Party officers reacted against his support for the restoration of the Stormont Assembly and — perhaps mindful of a survey in the Belfast Telegraph that showed huge support for Donaldson among party members — forced Poots to resign and began a process of ‘coronation’ in which Donaldson was appointed leader at the end of June, becoming the fifth DUP leader in history but the third in just 50 days.

As leader Donaldson showed little of the ‘moderate’ side so trumpeted by supporters. He began his tenure by giving public backing to Loyalist youths building bonfires at community interface points, dismissing accusations of sectarian insensitivity. He then embarked on a long campaign to undermine the Protocol, announcing in September a boycott of north-south ministerial meetings as well as threatening to withdraw from Stormont if the party’s demands were not met. These threats continued to be made up to December and led to some commentators ridiculing the DUP leader as fast becoming ‘the boy who cried wolf.’

By the end of 2021 opinion polls in Northern Ireland suggested that this hardline stance had led to some recovery of the DUP vote share from an historic low of 16% in the summer to around 21% in November. But the party still trailed Sinn Fein by around 3% and was continuing to face pressure from both the genuinely moderate Alliance Party and other parties from the left and right of unionism.

With Donaldson unlikely to withdraw his support from the Assembly until he stands a chance of winning the resulting election, it appears that the people of Northern Ireland will have to face another 4 months of stalemate and frustration at least. And while Sinn Fein remains ahead in the polls, when the election does finally arrive you can be sure it will be dominated by the politics of sectarianism and fear rather than focusing on the issues that matter most to the electorate.

(3) Sinn Fein is (quietly) changing

At the same time as all the drama of the DUP leadership was taking place, another party was caught up in a struggle for power. In April, the entire leadership of the Derry Sinn Fein group — including two Derry MLAs, Karen Mullan and former IRA prisoner Martina Anderson — were asked to step down by a Sinn Fein committee investigating poor election results in the city.

Former Derry MLAs Martina Anderson and Karen Mullen

Although the process ended relatively quickly and quietly, it was clear that the leadership in Dublin were sending a message to those in the party who continue to celebrate the military actions of republicans in the years before the ceasefire and peace process. For the ‘new Sinn Fein’ on the brink of taking power in the Republic, such perspectives are dangerously outdated and risk alienating their newer, younger supporters.

This message was hammered home by party leader Mary Lou McDonald. ‘I acknowledge that the process of reorganisation and change is challenging but it is my belief that our best days lie ahead in Derry and nationally as a new generation of republicans come forward,’ she said in April. Visiting the city in August, she went further: the party ‘needed a shake-up’ in Derry, she said.

Under the leadership of McDonald, there has been a quiet revolution in Sinn Fein. Aware that the younger Irish population has proved willing to challenge the old political and religious order in recent years, the party has consciously orientated itself towards ‘progressive’ politics. It is now talking as much about inequality, climate change and women’s and LGBTQ rights as it was previously about constitutional issues.

In addition, there has been a subtle but significant change of tone on the ‘armed struggle’ during the Troubles. In April, McDonald expressed regret at the killing of Lord Mountbatten by the IRA — a different stance than that taken by previous leader, Gerry Adams. At the party’s Ard Fheis (annual conference) in October much less emphasis was made on the ‘heroic struggles’ of the past and much more on 21st century problems (housing, health, women’s/LGBTQ rights and climate change).

At that Ard Fheis a significant decision was made to end the party’s long-standing objection to non-jury courts; a policy change which risked alienating older supporters, but which crucially allows a future Sinn Fein government to rule in coalition with one of the mainstream parties.

It is easy to be cynical about these shifts in tone and policy — as many critics of the party have been. These criticisms range from characterisations of a party willing to ditch everything in order to gain power to the rather hysterical denunciations of the British tabloids and the First Minister.

But other, less antagonistic observers are noticing a genuine change of path. . Jon Tonge (Professor of Politics at the University of Liverpool) gave a cautious welcome to a party making peace with the political system. Writing for Slugger O’Toole, David McCann noted the emphasis upon policies that actually matter to voters at the Ard Fheis. The New Harvard Political Review has talked of a ‘New Sinn Fein’, moving from an anti-establishment protest party to one which ‘has reimagined itself into the first alternative vision for an Irish future that the country has seen since the War of Independence.’

It is undoubtedly true that McDonald is seeking to become the president of a party that heads the government both sides of the Irish border. Her ambition is clear, as is her calm but ruthless determination to achieve that goal. In 2021, McDonald has signalled the party’s change of direction and faced down criticism of it from all directions. In 2022 and beyond, Sinn Fein might well be in power in Northern Ireland. As McCann notes, that could mean much more influence over events on the island of Ireland ‘and should be a lesson for anyone who thinks that the party is better being on the outside rather than in the Executive.’

(4) Legacy issues remain unresolved

Later this month, there will be a series of events in Derry marking the 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday — the unlawful killing of 14 unarmed civil rights protesters by soldiers from the British Army on January 30th, 1972.

Despite the fact that Bloody Sunday ruined many lives, it took over 26 years for the UK Government to properly investigate the killings and another 12 years passed before it apologised to the victims. Trials against soldiers identified as committing crimes on Bloody Sunday collapsed in 2021 and it is becoming increasingly obvious that the UK Government sees ‘legacy issues’ like these as something to avoid.

Victims’ Groups unite to oppose UK government proposals to end prosecutions

The ‘Troubles’ — the conflict in Northern Ireland between the mid-1960s and the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement of 1998 — caused many casualties.

It is estimated that around 3,500 people lost their lives and over 100,000 suffered some kind of injury, the vast majority within Northern Ireland itself. Here, it has been calculated that around 30% of the entire population were directly affected by the violence: through the loss of friends, family members, homes and businesses. Many more suffered from damage to physical and mental health.

The 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday comes in they year after the British Government announced plans to prohibit future prosecutions of military veterans and ex-paramilitaries for Troubles incidents pre-dating the Good Friday Agreement. This plan has been denounced by victims’ groups across Northern Ireland and has led to representatives from all communities expressing opposition and distrust in the motives of the British state.

Despite the fact that prosecutions relating to the actions of soldiers and policemen make up a smaller proportion than those against former paramilitaries, the British government has chosen to make political capital out of the issue. Ministers have stated — without any supporting evidence — that the cases against security forces are simply ‘vexatious prosecutions’ and designed to reward lawyers and litigants rather than deliver justice. This is part of a strategy by the current Tory administration to limit the power of judges to interfere (as they see it) in political decisions.

It is also part of a longer-established phenomenon: the inability of the British state to admit that crimes were committed by their agents during the administration of colonial territories, especially when so close to home as Northern Ireland.

In 2021, as in many previous years, lawyers for the British government and security forces have gone to extraordinary lengths to prevent their dirty secrets being exposed.

In December, the Police Service of Northern Ireland was challenged at the Supreme Court by the so-called ‘Hooded Men’: internees of 1971 who had been subjected to methods of interrogation that many now regard as torture. (These included being sleep-deprived, exposed to loud noise and even hooded and thrown from helicopters a short distance off the ground, having been told they were hundreds of feet in the air.) The PSNI had refused to investigate their case seven years previously; in fact, it was the PSNI who took the case to the highest court in Britain having failed in Belfast’s Court of Appeal to overturn an earlier High Court ruling that found it should complete an investigation into the treatment of the men. In its 2021 judgment the Supreme Court ruled once again that the PSNI had been in the wrong, describing the decision not to investigate as ‘irrational’. Despite this clear ruling, the PSNI has still shown no indication that it will comply (presumably hoping that the forthcoming UK legislation on Troubles-era crimes will remove their obligation to do so).

And it is this consciousness of a future legal block on seeking redress through the courts that led Steven Travers and other survivors of the Miami Showband Massacre to settle his civil suit against the Ministry of Defence out of court.

‘Our case proves that it is not easy to get into court,’ he said. ‘It took us 10 years to get them kicking and screaming into court. So all this [talk of vexatious prosecutions] is completely false.’

(5) British indifference makes things worse

During his tenure as Prime Minister, Boris Johnson has used and abused Northern Ireland in his own interests. During the 2019 election campaign he sought to characterize the leader of the Labour opposition as a ‘terrorist sympathizer’, simply because Jeremy Corbyn had often questioned British policies in the province. His current stance on legacy issues is about preserving his position by offering a sop to right-wing backbenchers rather than concerns about justice.

UK Prime Minister, Boris Johnson

But the attitude to legacy issues by the current British government should come as no surprise. Ireland, especially Northern Ireland, has always been little more than an afterthought in the minds of British politicians (and many of the British electorate too).

While many British politicians and journalists were singing the praises of the recently deceased Desmond Tutu, they mostly failed to appreciate the lesson the former anti-apartheid campaigner taught them about resolving conflict. The establishment of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa was instrumental in bringing the country together after the end of apartheid. Tutu and other left-wing commentators suggested a similar approach to Northern Ireland during the Peace Process. But the suggestion was ignored and a valuable opportunity to bring reconciliation as well as peace lost.

As I have described earlier, the rise of English nationalism and the consequent obsession with Brexit has hurt Northern Ireland deeply. The significant number of people who voted to remain in the EU have simply been ignored by Westminster. The interests of businesses who benefitted from EU membership and are prospering under the Protocol are dismissed, as are the thousands who rely on regular border crossings for work and family life.

In fact, it could be argued that the objections to the Protocol are also hurting British business. US negotiators have made it clear that the delay in signing a US-UK trade deal is down to US reluctance to risk the Good Friday Agreement by allowing the Protocol to go. The continued uncertainty caused by the constant renegotiations in Brussels is affecting British people and the economy; it seems likely that EU impatience with British right-wing posturing could mean the whole deal may need to be renegotiated with all the problems that further delays will cause.

Worst of all, the alliance of hardline Unionism with right-wing English nationalism has encouraged a hardening of attitudes and the development of a siege mentality by some Northern Unionists. This has led to a renewed obsession with constitutional issues (rather than the actual concerns of voters) and the likelihood that the next Stormont election will be dominated by scaremongering and sectarianism rather than proposals to improve people’s lives.

The willful ignorance and dismissal of Northern Irish concerns comes with a long history and a terrible set of costs.

(6) 2022 could be a momentous year

A lot happened in 2021: new leaders for 2 of the main parties; renewed street violence and angst over the Protocol; dismay at the policies coming from Britain.

But all this could pale into insignificance if the opinion polls are correct, and Sinn Fein becomes the biggest party at Stormont after elections scheduled for this May.

What road will Northern Ireland take in 2022?

Since the formation of Northern Ireland in 1921, a non-unionist party has never been the largest party in terms of votes cast in Stormont elections. Sinn Fein never even contested elections until the 1980s and only took an active role in Northern Ireland’s government after the Good Friday Agreement created a power-sharing format for the Assembly in 1998.

Within the last few years, however, the party has maintained an impressive 20–25% vote share due in part to demographic changes which have increased the non-Protestant population, partly to being seen as a party of government rather than a protest group, partly to altered campaigning styles and issues raised, and partly to the growth of parties like Alliance which have attracted disillusioned unionist voters in significant numbers.

This year, then, Sinn Fein is poised to take a senior role at Stormont for the very first time. Clearly buoyed by a strong election result in the Republic the party has become confident of imminent success both sides of the border. (It is noticeable that it has stopped talking of ‘if’ unification happens but rather ‘when’.) 2022 could be the start of a ‘decade of opportunity’ for Irish republicanism.

But, of course, its not that simple.

Unionists are clearly spooked at the current state of the opinion polls and the DUP is attempting to form an electoral pact with other unionist parties to prevent a Sinn Fein victory. It has not been successful in this so far, but as the election approaches and the prospect of a Sinn Fein victory becomes more real it would not be surprising if some informal arrangements were made.

In addition, the DUP has already started to make threats of non-compliance, suggesting it would not nominate a Deputy if Sinn Fein’s Michelle O’Neill was to become First Minister (and thus bring the Stormont Assembly down). As the DUP have many friends at Westminster and Sinn Fein do not, it would be interesting to see what the British government would do in such a situation. Prime Minister Johnson is currently being held hostage by around 80 right-wing members of his Conservative party, few of whom would want to see a republican-led government in Northern Ireland.

But, as Suzanne Breen recently argued on BBC Radio Ulster, if Sinn Fein were to counter such a negative campaign from unionists with a positive campaign, emphasizing the progressive nature of having a first female leader, as well as being a party willing to speak up for young people and focus on 21st century issues (as Alliance has successfully positioned itself in recent debates) then it might be able to counteract the fearmongering and almost certain sectarianism of hardline unionism with a vision of Northern Ireland that the majority of voters are willing to embrace (however reluctantly).

Whatever happens, 2022 is going to be a fascinating time to be alive in Northern Ireland, that’s for sure.

January 04

On This Day in History

1969

Burntollet Ambush: Approaching Derry on the final day of a civil rights march across Northern Ireland (organised by People’s Democracy), protestors were ambushed and attacked by a loyalist mob at Burntollet Bridge.

It appears that the ambush had been planned in advance and around 200 loyalists, including off-duty members of the ‘B-Specials’, used sticks, iron bars, bottles and stones to attack the marchers, 13 of whom received hospital treatment.

The marchers believed that the 80 Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) officers, who accompanied the march, did little to protect them from the Loyalist crowd and the incident led to a collapse of any remaining confidence in the RUC. It was also seen by many participants as the moment ‘the Troubles’ became inevitable.

(More details here.)

As the march entered Derry it was again attacked at Irish Street, a mainly Protestant area of the city. Finally the RUC broke up the rally that was held in the centre of the city as the march arrived. This action, and the subsequent entry of the RUC into the Bogside area of the city, led to serious rioting.

Troubling Times: An Introduction to the AltUlsters Project

When it comes to ‘the Troubles’, ever feel you haven’t been told the whole story?

The conflict in Northern Ireland between the mid-1960s and the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement of 1998 has weighed heavily upon British political and cultural life.

Impact

It is estimated that around 3,500 people lost their lives and over 100,000 suffered some kind of injury, the vast majority within Northern Ireland itself. Here, it has been calculated that around 30% of the entire population were directly affected by the violence: through the loss of friends, family members, homes and businesses. Many more suffered from damage to physical and mental health.

In Britain, there were a series of bombing campaigns mostly directed against military institutions, political actors and ‘economic targets’ (such as the Stock Exchange and transport networks). Although these claimed many fewer casualties than in Northern Ireland itself, they nevertheless created a climate of fear and a sense of threat to some people’s enjoyment of life – especially when British civilians were killed or injured. Coupled with the deaths of soldiers born in Britain, these ‘outrages’ led in some cases to hostility against Irish people and an escalation of tension in those British towns and cities with traditions of either Irish immigration or military service.

The ’British Problem’

For many in Britain, the reasons for the conflict in Northern Ireland were simply incomprehensible. Most British politicians and British media outlets chose to portray the conflict as a fight between two irreconcilably-divided communities drawing upon ancient hatreds to assert dominance over the other – with poor old British soldiers caught in the crossfire between them, attempting to keep the peace. This crude, cartoon-like analysis became the dominant mode of discourse in late 20th century Anglo-Irish politics.

It was joined by a deep loathing of the Irish Republican Army. As Loyalist paramilitaries rarely engaged in violent acts on mainland Britain during ‘the Troubles’ era, it appeared to many British people that the violence was perpetrated solely by Irish nationalists – a perception few politicians sought to challenge. This meant that those commentators who attempted to raise the issue of nationalist grievances or state violence were often shouted down, labelled as ‘apologists for terrorism’ and excluded from the (already limited) conversation about ‘the Irish problem.’

Peace

When the peace process became formalised in 1998 and demilitarisation took place in the 21st century there was a sense of relief among the inhabitants of Northern Ireland that was largely shared by the people of Britain. As renewed investment, political compromise and efforts at cross-community engagement helped to make life in Ulster more ‘normal’ there was an emerging confidence that a shared identity and a prosperous future was possible.

One of the obstacles to achieving that better tomorrow was the existence of ‘painful pasts.’ In a society that had suffered so much violence, it is perhaps understandable that some remained unwilling to let go of their private suffering and engage in the process of healing and moving on. That so many did just that is testament to the strength of the desire for peace and resolution of the conflict in Northern Ireland itself.

But the process of ‘resolution’ raised many questions. How did ‘the Troubles’ begin? How did things become so violent? What caused neighbours to hate each other so much? Why was there such widespread distrust of police, politicians and even peacemakers? And what was to be done with the large number of participants in violent acts? Would grieving families ever know why their loved ones became victims? How could the history of the conflict be told in a way that both encouraged remembering but also enabled healing?

Many politicians in Northern Ireland have proved seemingly incapable of finding ways to address those questions. After some initial hesitant steps toward collective engagement, the main political actors have retreated to entrenched positions and treated ‘legacy issues’ as a political football. Many opportunities to move forward have been squandered.

A Postcolonial Legacy

In Britain, the situation is even worse. Supporters of the British state have always been reluctant to acknowledge any responsibility for how the Troubles began or how the conflict played out for so long. And more recently, the rise of extreme nationalism in England has had a toxic effect upon political discourse. Any attempt to present a nuanced view of events in Northern Ireland (especially relating to the role of the British state) is greeted with a tirade of abuse from right-wing politicians and a combination of disinterest and uncomfortable silence from the wider population. The kind of difficult conversations that are desperately needed are becoming even more difficult to generate. Any nuanced criticism of Britain’s role has been likely to fall victim to the traps of alt-right politicking with emotive terms like ‘vexatious prosecutions’ and ‘apologists for terrorism’ being utilised to silence departures from the preferred narrative. As I have argued elsewhere, this should not be a complete surprise: postcolonial societies are often unwilling to discuss the legacies of their actions in an open and honest manner, least of all when it is suggested that those actions may have been problematic.

English nationalism and its promotion of a messy departure from membership of the European Union has created more problems in Northern Ireland as well. The absence of consideration for the effect on the island of Ireland was already an issue before it was compounded when the inhabitants of Northern Ireland voted to remain in the EU. The subsequent wrangling over trading and border issues has been a gift to sectarian nationalisms within Northern Ireland, with new divisions over Brexit feeding and reviving older senses of difference, destabilising cross-community engagements and putting the peace process itself in jeopardy.

These are troubling times.

A History of Violence

But what about academia? Surely within the halls of universities and colleges, the emphasis upon scholarship and intellectual integrity must be producing a careful and questioning analysis of Britain’s long relationship with Ireland? Well, yes and no.

Over the last 50 years, there have been many attempts by social scientists to study and provide critical analysis of the conflict in Ulster. (So many in fact that several commentators routinely refer to Northern Ireland as the most studied region on the planet.) It is striking, however, that, until recently, there were few academic works of history being produced. Part of this was due to the ongoing conflict, of course: it is hard to be definitive about a subject which is in constant flux. But when the peace process began to bear fruit in the early 21st century, there remained a deficit of major studies. Why was that the case?

I would suggest that there are two main reasons.

One is that, despite the ending of violence, access to source material remains difficult. Whilst communications between ministers and some official documents have become available, allowing forensic studies by Thomas Hennessey and others, there is little access to police, army or security service information. The reluctance of government lawyers to allow the courts access to papers or witnesses during truth recovery projects has been a feature of Northern Irish historical enquiries for many decades and shows little sign of abating. In addition, many of the political parties do not reveal their inner decision-making processes, meaning any study of motivations or strategies are hindered by a deliberate opaqueness.

Secondly, and more of a concern, has been the reluctance of many historians to engage with narratives and approaches that challenge the dominant ideologies underpinning previous studies. There is a strong conservative tradition among Irish academics, most visible in works like JJ Lee’s Ireland 1912-85, which prioritises high politics and philosophy over community battles and denigrates those engaged in left-wing politics as deluded and disruptive. Until recently, this has also been present in much of the work of historians working in British universities: one thinks of the condescending remarks by Roy Foster about the ‘reductionist, naïve and reactionary’ politics of those who employ colonial discourse analysis or the ferocious, almost frenzied attacks on postcolonialist approaches to Irish history by Stephen Howe. It is tempting to see in this a (perhaps understandable) reluctance to engage with the anti-colonial politics of Sinn Fein and the Irish republican movement, but I would suggest it is part of a wider issue: the considerable difficulties that postcolonial states experience in the process of acknowledging difficult pasts.

New Directions

Thankfully, both of these issues have begun to be addressed.

In the first place, the increasing application of oral history techniques to Northern Ireland has allowed a fundamental shift from reliance on published memoirs to a forensic analysis of key events in specific times and places. Recently, Michael McCann and Brian McKee have engaged in studies of the 1969 Belfast riots (Burnt Out) and the recovery of multiple viewpoints from one locality (Ardoyne ’69) which are deepening our knowledge and offering fresh perspectives on areas largely untouched by traditional studies.

In the second place, postcolonial studies and other ‘new histories’ have increasingly become established in British and Irish universities. This has allowed for the production of the more nuanced postcolonial studies of Britain and Ireland’s relationship called for by Livesey & Murray some 25 years ago. This is very much a work in progress – we are still waiting for a genuine postcolonial history of Northern Ireland – but there is definitely a change in the direction of travel, as witnessed recently by Daniel Finn’s One Man’s Terrorist: A Political History of the IRA and many of the papers presented to the New Directions in Irish History conference at Teesside University in 2019.

Alternative Ulsters

The AltUlsters Project aims to be part of these new directions.

This project is concerned in the first instance with revealing the historical narratives about ‘the Troubles’ in Northern Ireland which are rarely featured in academic discourse. In particular, it seeks to explore radical perspectives – those of the Far Left, the Peace Movement, Feminists and Irish radicals living in Britain.

It will explore the materials published by groups and individuals in the political journals of the time as well as the attitudes expressed in popular culture. These political and cultural texts reveal a set of historical narratives – implied or clearly stated – which fed into a public history about ‘the Troubles’ which was (and continues to be) very different from ‘official’ accounts or orthodox histories.

This focus on the subaltern fits into the tradition of postcolonial studies and allows for a serious consideration of an anti-imperialist political discourse that is shared by many people in Britain and Ireland, one that has produced an influential public history of ‘the Troubles’ which needs to be examined and explained.

It is perhaps understandable that British and Irish scholars have sought to distance themselves from colonial comparisons in the past, linked as they are to the political discourse of a republican movement that is loathed by many citizens as well as academics. But the war has become peace and those considerations can no longer be used as an excuse for not engaging with narratives and explanations that make us uncomfortable. It is, surely, all part of that process by which we as historians contribute to an ‘unending dialogue between the present and the past.’

Michael True Leveller Bennett (6th August 2021)

Endnotes

Feargal Cochrane, Northern Ireland: The Fragile Peace (new edition, 2021)

Joseph Lee, Ireland 1912-1985: Politics and Society (1989)

R. F. Foster, The Irish Story: Telling Tales and Making It Up in Ireland (2001)

Stephen Howe, Ireland and Empire: Colonial Legacies in Irish History and Culture (2000)

Thomas Hennessey, The Evolution of the Troubles 1970-72 (2007)

J. Livesey & S. Murray, ‘Post-colonial theory and modern Irish culture,’ Irish Historical Studies, xxx, 119 (1997).

Michael McCann, Burnt Out: How ‘The Troubles’ Began (2019)

Brian McKee, Ardoyne ‘69: Stories of Struggle and Hope (2020)

Daniel Finn, One Man’s Terrorist: A Political History of the IRA (2019)