A changing island - Figures that speak louder than words

Early last month, the cadaver of violent nationalism dusted itself off one more sorry time, stepped out from the shadows and, feeding on the anti-democratic delusions that have cost so many lives on this island marched behind the coffin, offensively draped in our national flag, of a dangerous Dublin criminal.

That the daylight murder of Alan Ryan signalled a new and escalating round of gangland killings over the closing weeks of September shows exactly what kind of republican he was and the kind of republicans those who paraded as a “colour party”, or in paramilitary uniforms, at his funeral actually are.

On Saturday, 30,000 people marched through Belfast to mark the centenary of the Ulster Covenant and though it did provoke moments of tension it was far, far more peaceful than it might have been even a decade ago. Comparing the two events may not be a faultless way to review how relationships and society on this island are evolving but it is nevertheless a valid, if fleeting, metric.

The Belfast event marked a defining moment for this island. Indeed, some historians contend that it shaped this island more profoundly than even the 1916 Rising.

One of the Ulster Covenant’s objectives was to resist — “by all means necessary” — Home Rule, which many Unionists then saw as little more than Rome Rule. History shows those fears were, unfortunately, justified, though it might be easier to empathise with the demands for religious freedom in the Covenant had they been extended to everyone in Northern Ireland.

Another comparison forced upon us by our past is the idea that a march celebrating Unionism must not be triumphalist. This principle was by and large observed on Saturday, though a minority, like the Ryan cortege, used the moment to pick at old but healing wounds by ignoring agreements reached with the Parades Commission.

It will be interesting to see how celebrations for 1916’s centenary, now just over three years away, observe this principle because what will they celebrate if not the triumph of Irish nationalism over a colonial master? How can they be anything but triumphant? And if they are to be such, how can they not risk undoing so much of the progress, consolidation, and bridge-building of recent years? Are we secure enough in ourselves to bow our heads in reverence rather than stick out our chests in assertion? Have we even considered that we might have to celebrate a major event in our history in a minor key to continue building the future that that event hoped to bring about? Are we capable of doing that?

Undoubtedly there will be outrages, orange or green, before then that will offer opportunities to rehearse all the old arguments, but maybe now that we have seen what this island might be like if solidarity fully replaced tribalism, they might be greeted with a unified and resolute opposition.

One hundred years ago, 471,414 Ulster men and women signed the Covenant in one day. Four years later, our history changed for ever. On Saturday, around 30,000 people marched in Belfast. Last month, a few score unrepresentative people marched behind Alan Ryan’s coffin. Thankfully, these figures speak far louder than any words.