Freedom!

THIS BLOG IS ON HOLIDAYS. JUST SO THAT YOU KNOW.

AND AS LONG TIME READERS OF THIS SPACE WILL KNOW, DURING THE AUGUST BREAK THIS BLOG DOES NOT WATCH OR LISTEN TO NEWS PROGRAMMES OR READ NEWSPAPERS.

APART FROM A REGULAR TIE IN WITH THE OFFICE FOR EMERGENCIES I REFUSE TO DISCUSS POLITICAL MATTERS OR INDEED CURRENT AFFAIRS WITH ANYONE.

EVEN YOUR MAN.

HE IS ON HOLIDAYS AS WELL.

BY THE WAY HE DIFFERENTIATES BETWEEN BREAKS AND HOLIDAYS AND BY THE WAY AGAIN HE IS NOT WITH ME ON HOLIDAYS. OR ON A BREAK EITHER FOR THAT MATTER.

IT IS VERY LIBERATING. HIS ABSENCE. I JEST. THE ABSENCE OF NEWS. OR AT LEAST ABSENCE OF THE COMPULSION TO WATCH OR LISTEN OR READ THE DAILY DOSES OF WHAT PASSES FOR NEWS THESES DAYS.

INCIDENTLY WHEN I SAY I DONT GET NEWSPAPERS THERE IS AN EXCEPTION TO THAT. I GET THE ANDYTOWN NEWS IF IT IS AVAILABLE AND ON A SATURDAY I GET THE IRISH TIMES. FOR THE SPORTS, THE REVIEW SECTION, BOOKS, THE MAGAZINE AND ALL THE REST OF IT.

AND I TRY TO SET ASIDE A GOOD SPACE ON A SATURDAY AND DEPENDING ON THE TIME OF DAY, FOR A COFFEE OR A GLASS OF VINO OR A PINT OF PLAIN AND I ENDULGE MYSELF. IT MAKES MY DAY. THE MAIN THING IS THE SPACE. AND THE TIME. TO READ EVERY THING WHICH IS OF INTEREST TO ME.

 

THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE WAY IT WAS BEFORE THE HYPER HOURLY CYLE OF REGURITATED SOUND BITES AND TABLOID SUPERFICIALITY.

 

IN THE OLDEN DAYS PEOPLE HAD TO WAIT FOR THEIR INFORMATION ABOUT WHAT WAS GOING ON IN THEIR WORLD AND THEN THEY WOULD TAKE TIME TO DIGEST IT AND CONSIDER IT UNTIL THEY GOT THE NEXT BIT OF SCEAL FROM WHOEVER HAPPENED TO BE PASSING BY.

 

NOWADAYS WE ARE BOMBARDED WITH NEWS AND WHILE THE WAYS OF THE INTERNET AND SOCIAL NETWORKING ARE HUGELY SIGNIFICENT AS A MEANS OF DEMOCRATISING ACCESS TO NEWS AND EMPOWERING CITIZENS THROUGHOUT THE GLOBE, IT IS STILL WILDLY REFRESHING FOR ME TO BE OUTSIDE ALL THAT EVEN FOR A FEW WEEKS.

 

I WAS NOW GOING TO SPECULATE ON ALL THE THINGS WHICH MAY BE HAPPENING OUT THERE IN A ‘SO FOR ALL I KNOW’ WAY.

FOR EXAMPLE FOR ALL I KNOW ENDA KENNY MAY HAVE WON BACK ECONOMIC SOVEREIGNTY EVEN IN HIS OWN IMAGINATION BUT EVEN THE THOUGHT OF ENGAGING IN SUCH MEANDERINGS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME. IT HURTS MY IMAGINATION. SO I WILL PASS.

 

WHAT DO I DO INSTEAD? I LISTEN TO MUSIC A LOT. A VERY BIG LOT INDEED. I SIT IN THE GARDEN. THATS WHERE I AM NOW. SNOWIE IS KEEPING GUARD. SO IS OUR RESIDENT ROBIN. HE HOPS CHEERFULLY ABOUT THE PLACE. I SLEEP. LIKE A LOG. I COOK. A LOT. AND EAT LIKE AN ATHLETE. I EXERCISE A LITTLE. THAT WILL COME LATER WHEN I HAVE EXHAUSTED MYSELF DOING NOTHING.

 

OH ....AND I READ. BOOKS. I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF THREE AT THE MINUTE.

 

THREE ENTIRELY DIFFERENT TOMES. JOE O CONNOR – WHO I ADMIRE GREATLY – AND HIS ‘GHOST LIGHT’.

 

A BOOK ABOUT FATHER TOMMY MAHER AND HIS PART IN THE RENAISSANCE OF KILKENNY HURLING CALLED THE GODFATHER OF MODERN HURLING BY ENDA MCEVOY.

 

AND IVOR BROWNES TREMENDOUS ‘MUSIC AND MADNESS’ WHICH IS A REVEALING,HONEST AND COMPELLING STORY ABOUT HIMSELF AND THE RECENT HISTORY OF MENTAL HEALTH PROVISION AND MORE SIGNIFICENTLY THE AUTHORS ONGOING PERSONAL AND PSYCHIATRIC SEARCH FOR AN UNDERSTANDING OF ‘THE HUMAN CONDITION’.

 

SO THERE YOU ARE.

 

I HAVE A LIST OF OTHER TITLES TO CATCH UP ON INCLUDING A BOOK ABOUT CHRISTY RING BY VAL DORGAN AND DONAL ÓG’S ‘COME WHAT MAY’ AND J.M COETZEE’S ‘DISGRACE’. AND A VIRTUAL LIBRARY OF POETRY AND THRILLERS TO BE ABSORBED. SO THERE IS A LOT TO DO.

 

AND FOR PURELY MEDICINAL PURPOSES I MAY EVEN TAKE A SMALL SUP. OR TWO.

 

A BIRD NEVER FLEW ON ONE WING.

 

AND THERE IS THE PROSPECT OF THE GALWAY-KILKENNY HURLING FINAL.

 

AND DONEGAL OUT AGAINST CORK THIS SUNDAY IN THE FOOTBALL. AND IM TRYING TO WRITE A BOOK OF SHORT STORIES. OR AT LEAST IM TRYING TO START THINKING ABOUT IT.

 

SO ALL IN ALL A BUSY TIME. THE THING IS IT IS MY OWN BUSY-NESS. DOING THE THINGS I WANT TO DO. OF COURSE I WON’T GET DOING MOST OF THEM. BUT WHO CARES? AT LEAST I HAVE THE FREEDOM TO DO WHAT I WANT. AND THATS REAL FREEDOM.

 

EVEN IF IT IS ONLY FOR A WEE WHILE.

 

 

Tiocfaidh ár lá

Dungiven National Hunger Strike Rally

There is a presumption often made by republicans that when we hold commemorations or someone of my generation mentions in passing some past event that others who are listening connect immediately.

Mention August 1969 and they remember or can picture in their heads the pogroms of that month in Belfast or the Battle of the Bogside in Derry. Mention internment 1971 and the mental image unwinds of barricaded streets, the sound of gun battles and exploding bombs, and the sights and sounds of hundreds of young men fighting, sometimes hand to hand with British squaddies on the streets.

Talk of collusion and reference the MRF – the Military Reaction Force – and we assume that our audience understands the use by the British of paid agents and counter gangs to kill citizens and stoke the fires of sectarian conflict.

But the fact is that many of the faces looking up at me in public conferences and speaking engagements across this island were not alive when many of these remarkable events took place. The first IRA cessation took place 18 years ago this month. Many were only babies or small children or not even born when the H-Block protest took place or when 10 men died on hunger strike.

While a big part of our endeavour and strategizing has to be about looking forward it is also true that we need to understand our past. You will understand nothing about our history if you don’t examine it in its context.

This is especially true of the hunger strike. Why would 10 men refuse food and die? Why would others participate in the hunger strike or stand ready to join it? Why would countless tens of thousands across this island and around the world find inspiration in the courage and valour of the men and women political prisoners?

In the here and now it seems inconceivable. But viewed in the context of the time and of the experience of the prisoners and it becomes clear. If you want to know that context then pick up anything written by Bobby Sands. He lived and breathed and suffered in the H Blocks. His smuggled comms- letters; poems; articles; creative pieces; and stories - written on scraps of torn bible pages or cigarette papers using the infill of a biro, and all wrapped in cling film and hidden in his naked body, tell you more about the brutal reality of life for political prisoners and the nature of the northern state than anything else I can think of.

These are not the invented musings or a plot device of a clever writer. They are the daily experiences of hundreds of men and women over five terrible years.

There is a premonition of personal tragedy running through Bobby’s writings: that his H Block cell will, literally, become a tomb. His admiration for his comrades and his feelings for supporters and for oppressed people outside of the prison emerge in the words which he expertly uses as a weapon against a regime which is trying vainly to break and dehumanise him.

The recent national hunger strike march in Dungiven brought all of that back for those who were in the prisons or part of the H Block/Armagh campaign. For those who weren’t there I thought it would be appropriate as we celebrate the lives of the hungers strikers and their comrades and their contribution to the struggle for freedom that we should reflect on what made them heroes.

In this short extract from his breath taking ‘One Day in my Life’ Bobby describes one 24 hour period in the H Blocks. The brutality, viciousness, inhumanity and sadism of the blocks and of the prison regime jump off the page as does the sense of courage and fearlessness and commitment that marks the men and women political prisoners of the H Blocks and Armagh.

One Day in My Life:

“I mumbled a “Hail Mary” to myself and a hurried “Act of Contrition” as I heard the approaching jingle of keys. Several gloved hands gripped and tightened around my arms and feet, raising my body off the ground and swinging me backwards in the one movement. The full weight of my body recoiled forwarded again, smashing me head against the corrugated iron covering around the gate. The sky seemed to fall upon me as they dropped me to the ground. …

Every part of me stung unmercifully as the heavily disinfected water attacked my naked, raw flesh. I made an immediate and brave attempt to rise out of the freezing, stinging water but the screws held me down while one of them began to scrub my already tattered back with a heavy scrubbing brush. I shrivelled with the pain and struggled for release but the more I fought the more they strengthened their iron grip …

They continued to scrub every part of my tortured body, pouring buckets of ice-cold water and soapy liquid over me. I vaguely remember being lifted out of the cold water – the sadistic screw had grabbed my testicles and scrubbed my private parts. That was the last thing I remembered. I collapsed…

 It was cold, so very, very cold. I rolled on to my side and placed my little treasured piece of tobacco under the mattress and felt the dampness clinging to my feet.

That’s another day nearer to victory. I thought feeling very hungry.

I was a skeleton compared to what I used to be but it didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered except remaining unbroken. I rolled over once against, the cold biting at me. They have nothing in their entire imperial arsenal to break the spirit of one single Republican political prisoner-of-war who refuses to be broken. I thought, and that eas very true. They can not or never will break our spirit. I rolled over again freezing and the snow came in thew window on top of my blankets.

“Tiocfaidh ár lá,” I said to myself. “Tiocfaidh ar lá.”

Nearly a quarter of a century of Féile

Derek Mooney does a really interesting radio show on RTE in the afternoons. It’s a mix of music, conversation and wildlife. If you are interested at all in our wildlife and fauna, in our seas and landscape you will be enthralled and entertained.

In the course of a recent conversation with Derek west Belfast singer, songwriter and very fine author Brian Kennedy mentioned that I had given him a hurl. Brian had been one of several authors reading from their books at the very popular ‘Scribes at the Rock’. This event, which is part of Féile an Phobail is held each year during the festival in the Rock Bar on the Falls Road. In the course of a conversation Brian told me that he had never owned a hurl.  

As anyone who knows me will testify I love the game. It’s the best sport in the world. Consequently I always carry a couple of hurleys and sliothars in the boot of the car for those odd moments when I am able to find a bit of space to practice my hurling skills – I once won the west Belfast Féile’s Poc Fada – but that’s another story. 

Anyway I got one from the boot of the car and gave it to Brian who – he told Derek – keeps it under his bed. Derek also wanted a hurl and I duly sent one to him – hence my appearance on his radio programme and the opportunity to talk about Féile an Phobail. 

The Féile is the largest community festival on these islands – and the best in the world!!!  

The official programme of events and activities began last Thursday and Sunday saw thousands take to the Falls Road in a carnival celebration of Féile which this year has as its theme ‘Giants of the North’ with Cú Chulainn just one of the figures from Irish mythology to be taking part.

For ten days west Belfast will resound to the sound of ceol and comedy and craic. There will be theatre, exhibitions, sport, walks, and debates and discussions in venues across west Belfast. Last Friday evening there was a brilliant Mary Black concert in Clonard Monastery and the Wolfe Tones will be in the Féile Marquee in the Falls Park on Wednesday. 

This years PJ McGrory lecture will be given by Doreen Lawrence on the killing of her son Stephen; George Galloway and Gerry Kelly will be participating in West Belfast Talks Back; and Mairead Corrigan will give the annual St. Oliver Plunkett Lecture in Lenadoon. And there is lots more. 

I would like to give a special mention to the emotional and powerful ‘Ballymurphy – the Aftermath’ which will run in Conway Mill from the 5^th to the 12^th of August. It tells the tragic story of the three days in the Ballymurphy area in August 1971 during which 11 local residents were shot dead by the British Parachute Regiment and of the trauma of their families and community. If you haven’t seen it then go this week.  

The Féile is a unique opportunity to showcase the talent and genius of the people of this part of the city. It is after more than two decades a vital part of the social fabric of Belfast with something for everyone. 

And it was during my conversation with Derek Mooney that it really hit me for the first time that next year Féile will be a quarter of a century old! That is an amazing fact. And it is down to the hard work and determination of so many very good people who from its beginnings in 1988 and steered the Féile through good times and bad. Comhgairdeas to everyone involved. 

For those of you too young to remember the Féile was born in 1988 against the backdrop of tragedy and conflict in the north but particularly in west Belfast.  

In March of that year Mairead Farrell, Dan McCann and Sean Savage were killed by the British in Gibraltar. The three, who were IRA Volunteers, were well known locally and widely respected.  

There was a great sense of shock and distress at events in Gibraltar. This was evident in the huge funeral the three received when their remains were eventually arrived home. 

This sense of shock was compounded by the death of IRA Volunteer Kevin McCracken who was shot dead by British soldiers in Turf Lodge on the night Mairead, Dan and Sean came back to Belfast. 

But worse was to come. At the graveside in Milltown Cemetery the funeral was attacked by Michael Stone, a member of the paramilitary Ulster Defence Association who was working in collusion with the RUC Special Branch. Using grenades and handguns he killed three mourners and wounded scores more.

Stone was chased by a section of the crowd onto the M1 motorway where he tried to stop cars while firing at his pursuers. As he threatened the young people who were closing in around him he was hit on the head with a wheelbrace. It was at this point that the RUC arrived on the scene. Stone was dragged away and driven off in an RUC vehicle. 

The three who died were Thomas McErlean aged 20, John Murray aged 26 and Caoimhin MacBradaigh aged 30, an IRA Volunteer. 

Several days later at the funeral of Caoimhin MacBradaigh two gunmen drove into the cortege on the Andersonstown Road at Casement Park. Mindful of the attack at Milltown days earlier the crowd surrounded the car. One of the gunmen fired a shot but the crowd challenged and seized the two. It was a confused and dangerous situation. Mourners thought the funeral was under attack by loyalists. However, it quickly emerged that the two gunmen apprehended by mourners and later killed by the IRA were undercover British Army officers Derek Wood and David Howes. 

There was a crescendo of outrage from establishment spokespersons. Seamus Mallon, the Deputy leader of the SDLP, said that the people of West Belfast ‘have turned into savages’. Others said we were ‘animals’. Those unarmed mourners who defended the funeral were hunted down by the RUC and many were sent to prison. 

This intense period of violence was a tragic, terrible cameo of the conflict. It was given added significance because most of those who died did so in very public circumstances and in the presence of thousands of other people. Some of them died in the glare of television cameras.  

One response to this was the founding of Féile an Phobail. We decided to demonstrate to the world that the people of west Belfast are not savages but a generous, humourous, talented, gifted and inclusive community. The months lading to August 1988 were given over to planning, organising and then holding the first ever Féile an Phobail. It was a huge success and each year has seen it go from strength to strength.

So, enjoy this years festival and remember that next year, as we mark 25 years, it will be bigger and better again!