Day 11: Belfast on the 4th of July

The U.S. and the Irish, nationality and ideas

The conservative columnist George F. Will once said that America is different from other countries because it's based on ideas rather than nationality.

Americans are English and French and African and Hispanic and hundreds of other ethnicities, often in multi-ethnic mixes. I am Irish, Russian and English myself.

In Belfast, they're Catholic and Protestant, of course, and they have been fighting about that for centuries. And though Northern Ireland is run by the UK, and subsidized by the dominant nation a few miles across the sea, it's essentially Irish in its national character.

I learned (or "learnt" as they say here) that from the Hughes family of Shankill Road, the dividing line between Catholics and Protestants  in Belfast. They overheard us talking as my wife and I dined at Laverty's, a traditional English-style pub down the street from our hostel. It's dark there, yet festive. It's a family place where parents take their children. And since it's gay pride weekend here, the place was festooned with rainbow flags. An "alternative" crowd with day-glo hair and Edwardian frock coats mixed with the middle-class crowd. Eileen Hughes, the talkative petite blonde mum, overheard us talking and proudly identified her neighborhood and her unionist, protestant background.

To this point, we have mostly been exposed to "Republicans," mostly Catholic, who's allegiance is with the Irish Republic. Unionists, like the Hugheses, support the union with England. It's easy for the Republicans to portray them as bad guys. There is separation and discrimination. But that's not the fault of Eileen and Morris Hughes or their banker son, Gary, with whom they were celebrating his 28th birthday.

They were a normal, friendly family. "Oh, it's real,"Gary said, referring to the "Troubles," the deadly conflict between Protestants and Catholics. "But we have normal lives."

"We tell the tourists and the British, especially the British, we wear bulletproof vests all the time. We love to scare 'em," Gary said, as he smiled.

He also joked that his best friend Mark, a family guest at dinner, was from "the Falls," on the Catholic side of the line. "Really?" I asked. Mark said no, he wasn't from that side of the wall; it was a joke.

I then asked if  any  of them have Catholic or Republican friends. "No, we never talk to them," Mark said.

In my second week here, I have seen and heard the Irish be sweet, funny, romantic, lyrical, and creative. But also hard and self-righteous. And these are national and ethnic characteristics shared north and south, Catholic and protestant.

Yes, we have that in the states, too. We have deep divisions and distrust. There are a lot of kinds of "us," and more kinds of "them." But that doesn't define us. We are defined by our principles of freedom, of moving forward, of making a better life.

On this July 4, in a place without fireworks or flags, I am proud to be an American

Days 9, 10: Classes and a visit from a (former) IRA commander

Hero? Terrorist? Or something different?

Tommy McKearney, a former IRA commander, discusses Irish history and his perspective on it with Kate Zibluk, Jonathan King and Sara E. McNeil.

McKearney and Ieimedia instructor Joan Weber.

When I looked at Tommy McKearney's website http://www.tommymckearney.com/  I expected a wild man. At 18, he joined the Irish Republican Army provisionals or "provos," the Catholic paramilitary/guerilla organization. They called themselves freedom-fighters; others called them terrorists. He was arrested for killing a member of a protestant paramilitary group and he spent seven years on the run, and 13 years in prison, where he became one of the "blanket men" who refused to wear the jailhouse uniform of a common prisoner. The British who imprisoned him at first allowed him and his compatriots to wear the street clothes of a political prisoner. But Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher changed their status and called them common criminals. To an Irishman, Catholic or Protestant, it's one thing to be a criminal, but it's far worse to be pushed back in status, even in prison.

So they refused to wear the uniforms, and they went on a hunger strike. Their leader, Bobby Sands, died, but McKearney gave up the strike when some privileges were restored. He was eventually freed, and he married. He worked a variety of jobs, and he is currently a conflict-resolution consultant, of all things, hired by the European Union as an arbitrator to help resolved disputes between factions in a still-tense country.

McKearney is also a proud socialist who aims to to try to fight the evils, as he perceives them, of capitalism.

But he wasn't what I expected. He is soft-spoken and thoughtful. He doesn't hate the English or the protestants, though his two brothers died amid the "Troubles."

At 61, he sees that the fighters, such as himself, are aging, and he has hopes for the next generations. While there don't seem to be any chips on his small shoulders, he doesn't make any apologies. "We were at war and in war you do things you wouldn't otherwise do," he said.

But he doesn't admit to any crimes either. He carefully says he was arrested "for" a murder, or "in connection" with one.

Maybe he's trying to justify his own deeds or those of the organization in which he participated that killed innocent people in bombings and shootings for 30 years.

All I know is that one person's war may be another person's crime spree. He freely discusses comparisons with the IRA, Hamas, the Black Panthers and others.

Though Northern Ireland is officially at peace, the men and women of McKierney's generation are still active. Some hold grudges, some have moved on.

Tommy McKearney and many like him, scarred by war, crime or whatever you want to call it, walk among us.

Noble freedom-fighter who sacrificed his youth for principal? Violent, angry terrorist? Sociopath?

I honestly don't know. But I do know that meeting him is part of the experience of the Armagh Project, and it's an education you can't get in books.

See him and listen to him yourself, and see what you think:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1KMDSqr9fZ0&feature=youtu.be

Day 8: Getting to work

A learning experience

You can't sum up Irish history in an hour. We allocated a class period for a quick overview of Northern Irish history. We didn't get far as students wanted to talk about spirituality, politics and the status of the arts through time.

Instructor Joan Webber works with Jonathan King, left and
James Koblenz in a discussion of Irish  history
at the  Amma center education complex in Armagh, Northern Ireland.

The group also went to the Irish history library adjacent to St. Patrick's Cathedral, which, according to legend, was founded by the Irish patron saint himself. The creative writers looked at literature and the student journalists researched their projects on travels, cultural differences and, of course, the troubles.

The troubles are inescapable, as we're finding out. Even on on a casual walk through suburban Armagh, the flags fly. They're sometimes red, sometimes tri-color, orange, white and green. As we approach the height of the marching season, different neighborhoods fly the colors of their respective affiliations: orange or red flags, or the Union Jack in protestant neighborhoods, and the tri-color of the Irish Republic of the south in the Catholic neighborhoods. Officially, it's illegal to fly provocative sectarian flags and banners in Armagh, but officials fear it would be even more provocative to raise the issue of removing them. 

As I walked by the Republican flags in the Catholic neighborhood,  man walked up and asked me what  I was doing. I explained I was an American educator. "Well, have a good holiday," he said.

A family walks by an illegal Irish Republican flag, left, in an Armagh neighborhood.

Day 7: The Capital of Ulster

Conflict at Ulster's roots

The view from the top of Emain Macha.

Conflict is in Ulster's DNA.

At the outskirts or Armagh stands  the remains of the area's 4,000-year capital, Emain Macha, now called Navan Fort. It was mostly a religious site, a temple built on a commanding hill. Graves and weapons have been found throughout the area.

The founding of Emain Macha, is among the earliest legends of Ireland, involving King Connor of Ulster and his enemy, Queen Maeve (or Maab) of Connaught in the west and south. Of course, like the much more modern King Arthur, Connor and Maeve are as much, probably more, legend than historical reality, the tales that swirl around them always involve jealousy and war.

Self-described "warrior clown" Dave Marcellus Kearney
greets visitors while wearing traditional warrior costume.

The historical center at that fort honors the real historical artifacts, including a mummy we viewed at the Irish museum, as well as the legends.

And on a rainy, windy day, we could almost hear horns and pipes of warriors in the air.

Guide Rosaleen Litter shows visitors the archaeological sites, now largely overrun by farms and quarries.