I’ve been
procrastinating this post for a few reasons. Firstly, we have had a jam-packed
schedule for the past few weeks. Secondly, I have been trying to draft this
post in my head but no words seem to do it justice. Thirdly, whenever I think
about trying to condense my past few days into a post, I’m overwhelmed.
Everything seems vitally important. What I’ve come to realize is that I cannot
begin to understand this deep seeded conflict with origins centuries old.
Northern Ireland is still a puzzle to me and anything I write here now is
merely a part of my thinking process. In my attempt to wrap my head around my
experiences here, I will share the stories about a few of the people we met
along the way.
Story #1:
Republican Majority View in South Armagh
Our first stop
was in South Armagh, also known as “Bandit Country” to all those outside of the
community. South Armagh is an unofficial division of the county of Armagh,
which borders the Republic of Ireland, but is part of Northern Ireland. Some
people in Armagh felt as if they were caught on the wrong side of the partition
and defended Irish nationalist ideas. Our guide was Thomas Marron, a former
member of the Provisional Irish Republican Army. Thomas spent 16 years in
prison as a political prisoner. He was released early under the terms of the
Good Friday Agreement. As part of his job helping the community deal with the
conflict, he takes groups on tours through South Armagh in an effort to give
the Republican perspective and help to promote understanding of the conflict.
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| Thomas |
We met Thomas in
his office: a room covered with artifacts of the Irish conflict: Maps of the
location of the military bases in the area, unexploded petrol bombs, photos and
lists upon lists of volunteers who had died. Thomas works directly with
families who are still recovering from the Troubles and many contributed to
this unofficial museum. Thomas is as cool as a cucumber and cares deeply for
his surroundings and heritage as well as his political beliefs, but also
recognizes the need for peace and healing.
Once we made our
introductions, we piled in the van and set off on our tour. Thomas pointed out
different landmarks, which were significant to the conflict. I felt as if every
100 feet there was another site. We saw O’Hanlon’s Pub which housed secret
meetings of the IRA, Donnelly’s Bar which was the site of a bombing (with
suspected British Army collusion), and granite monuments commemorating those
who were killed or died for their cause. As we drove through the countryside,
it was impossible to tell which side of the border we were on. There are no
checkpoints, no barriers, or signs designating your position. Mailboxes were my
only hint in orienting myself: green for the republic, red for Northern
Ireland. South Armagh is mostly farmland. I found it hard to believe that it
was once the most militarized area in Western Europe. During the Troubles, the
British Army constructed military bases on every hilltop and used only
helicopters to move from place to place as the region was so volatile.
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Memorial of So. Armagh IRA Volunteers who died
as a result of the conflict |
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Memorial to those who died on hunger strike to obtain
political prisoner status |
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| The group at the hunger strikers memorial |
Thomas grew up
in this militarized culture. He endured raids and harassment by the British
Army on a daily basis. His family, friends, and neighbors were under constant
supervision and faced a severe lack of privacy. The feeling of occupation was
oppressive. This is what made him decide to join the IRA. During his service, he
carried out many bombings and attacks on the British Army. One of the stops we
made on the tour was to what the IRA called “The Street.” The Street is a
former IRA hideout. On one side of the street is a memorial to IRA Volunteer
Seamus Harvey who was shot by British soldiers in an ambush. Across the road is
an old run-down farmhouse. Thomas told us that a local IRA sympathizer allowed
them to use the building as a hideout. I can only imagine what it must have
felt like to lie awake on the rickety floor of the farmhouse in the blackness
of the Irish countryside; each snap of a twig or rustle of the grass evokes the
fear of an ambush.
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| Farmhouse used as IRA hideout |
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| Upstairs |
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| View from the farmhouse |
