Alexander Poots - The Strangers House: Writing Northern Ireland

At times it seems that every inch of Belfast has been written-on, erased, and written-on again: messages, curses, political imperatives, but mostly names, or nicknamesRobbo, Mackers, Scoot, Frasometimes litanized obsessively on every brick of a gable wall, as high as the hand will reach, and sometimes higher, these snakes and ladders cancelling each other out in their bid to be remembered. Remember 1690. Remember 1916. Most of all, Remember me. I was here.

Ciaran Carson, Schoolboys and the Idlers of Pompeii

Northern Ireland is comprised of six counties: Antrim, Down, Armagh, Tyrone, Fermanagh, and Derry. These six counties form the greater part of the ancient province of Ulster. Ulsters three remaining countiesMonaghan, Cavan, and Donegalare part of the Republic of Ireland. The partition of Ireland, on 3 May 1921, divided not only the island, but Ulster as well.

Nationalists view Northern Ireland as a colonial hangover, and often favour alternative expressions for the region. The North of Ireland is the most common of these in print, though The Six Counties (along with variations like the Upper Six or the Occupied Six) is used frequently enough in conversation, in song lyrics, and on social media to be noteworthy. In the Republic, most people refer simply to the North.

For Unionists, Northern Ireland is an integral part of the United Kingdom. It is the name of their country and their home. Unionists waxing poetic may sometimes refer to Northern Ireland as Ulster, although this is not as common as it used to be.

A word on religion. It is true that the vast majority of Nationalists are Catholic, and that an overwhelming number of Unionists are Protestant. Consequently, religious affiliation has often been used by journalists as a shorthand for political belief. This has given rise to the viewin England, at least, astonishingly widespreadthat the Troubles were in essence a theological dispute that spilled out of the divinity schools and into the streets.

The reality is quite different. Religion may be a useful shorthand, but it is a shorthand that records only a fraction of what is said. Certainly faith has played a vital part in shaping Northern Irish society. This has always been a conservative part of the world, though things are changing, at least in urban areas. Decades of scandal have lamed the Catholic Church. Sinn Fin, the largest force in Nationalist politics, is avowedly socialist in orientation. And although Presbyterian and Evangelical denominations remain powerful in Unionist political circles, their influence on broader society is much reduced, at least among the young. The internet is a great leveller.

These are recent developments. Yet even fifty years ago, when the Catholic Church still held sway and Presbyterian ministers still spit fire from the pulpit, religion was rarely the primary source of friction between communities. Access to good land and decent employment, combined with competing ideas of what and where home is, are of much greater importance to the history of conflict in Northern Ireland.

I am aware of how much like a vocabulary list this note appears. Reality has never been so simple. The real story of Northern Ireland exists in the gaps between the blanket terms and the binary opposites. This is something which the men and women who write well about this place have always understood.

Alexander Poots, Belfast, January 2022