he years following the historic 1994 IRA cease-fire have, ironically, been some of the most turbulent in the history of the Troubles. These six years have encompassed the sheer joy of the first post-cease-fire Christmas, the sight of former terrorists — both Republican and Loyalist — actively engaging in constructive dialogue with London and Dublin, and the utter devastation of the Omagh bomb, the largest single loss of life incurred in the current conflict.
The one constant throughout this period has been the issue of "The Marching Season", and the ensuing battles for control of the streets of Northern Ireland. The picturesque Drumcree church on the outskirts of Portadown has become, since 1995, the unlikely focus of the disputes over the "right to march". To outsider the annual summer fallout seems bizarre and inexplicable — why must grown men don bowler hats, wear lurid polyester sashes and bang on drums? Equally, why should it matter so much to Catholic residents if these people then choose to parade down their streets? There are no simple answers to these questions, but for the peace process to keep moving forward the issues have to be addressed and in some way resolved. An accommodation of sorts has been reached in the City of Derry after both sides made concessions, but in Portadown — the spiritual home of Orangeism — the prospects for peace remain bleak. The past year in the Portadown area has seen a number of unpleasant incidents, perhaps most notably the assassination by car bomb of the Garvaghy Road residents lawyer Rosemary Nelson, and the murder of Elizabeth O'Neill, a Protestant woman married to a Catholic, killed by a grenade thrown into her home by Loyalist paramilitaries. Following on from such events as these the gulf between the communities is, if anything, widening.
Away from the ultra-Loyalist bastion of Portadown however, the reconciliation continues. It may still be a tentative process but the sheer normality of Belfast city centre would amaze anyone who left in the 70s or 80s. One of the most heartening aspects of the last few years is that many of those at the forefront of change in the Protestant community are former paramilitaries who have shown a degree of imagination and trust beyond that of the supposedly mainstream Unionist parties. It would be foolish to suggest that there will be no more tragedies in the years ahead, but a lasting peace is now definitely within the grasp of the people of Northern Ireland.
he years following the historic 1994 IRA cease-fire have, ironically, been some of the most turbulent in the history of the Troubles. These six years have encompassed the sheer joy of the first post-cease-fire Christmas, the sight of former terrorists — both Republican and Loyalist — actively engaging in constructive dialogue with London and Dublin, and the utter devastation of the Omagh bomb, the largest single loss of life incurred in the current conflict.
