These two events have defined the mindset of Northern Protestants, or rather those who are loyal to the crown. The Orange Order was itself created in 1795 in memory of William, saviour of Protestantism in Ireland. A sectarian organisation at heart, it first marched in 1797. As the years went by, it grew and became more violent. It started to intimidate Catholics out of their homes, a characteristic that marks the latter day marches. At the time, one of the slogans shouted out when a Catholic household would be broken into would be “To hell or to Connaught”. A difficult choice in those days when a living was mainly earned through agriculture as the Connaught (west of Ireland) is mostly barren. Today, as the loyalist followers of the Orange Order march through the Catholic areas, they often sing sectarian songs, threaten families and burn down houses while projectiles (bottles, petrol bombs, golf balls, stones) rain on them in response.

The week of the 12th usually sees many people leave Northern Ireland to escape the sectarianism and hatred. But we had decided to make it north to witness the division in Irish society. As Mauritians, our understanding of sectarianism, racism and communalism is unparalleled. The schism in our society is an everyday reality. We can see it, but fortunately we can choose to ignore it and the majority do. But there is a minority, which clings to it, either for political gains or from pure bigotry. In Northern Ireland, most people, Protestants and Catholics, want peace to lead a normal life. But a minority insists on hate and division. Northern Ireland is as complex a society as Mauritius. The problem of the North is not so easily explained, because of the mixture of colonialism, sectarianism, ideology and violence.

However, to all those in Mauritius who take particular pleasure in seeing the society divided; to those who say that one community has all the privilege over others; to those who think their religion better than the rest; to those who stir up communal tensions to make cheap political gains; to those who confuse religion and culture; to all those unpleasant characters in Mauritian society, if Rwanda and Bosnia proved too atrocious to contemplate, and our own history is too hazy for them, Northern Ireland is a stark reminder of where sectarian hatred leads.

<B>Spectacle of hatred</B>

Belfast, on the night of the 11th, was reminiscent of the pictures one sees of Baghdad after a bombing campaign. Clouds of thick heavy smoke rose all over the city. At other street corners, there were unlit bonfires, with Glasgow Celtic (the Catholic Scottish football team) jerseys or the Republic’s tricolour hanging on them, ready to be torched in a spectacle of hatred. In the streets, the sectarian division was explicitly expressed. The pavements were painted in the colours of the Union Jack in Loyalist areas, while romantic paintings of Ireland dominated the murals of Nationalist areas. Housing estates of the two communities faced away from each other along the same street. They also faced away from the roads. The week before, a loyalist mob had tried to burn a Catholic family in their house.

The problem in Northern Ireland is compounded by the presence of the British army and the role of the police, mainly (and still) Protestant. The sectarianism in Northern Ireland prevented Catholics from getting jobs and houses, and education was restricted. At the worst times of the Troubles, in the 70s and 80s, Protestants would not buy their groceries from Catholic shops. A version of South Africa’s apartheid system was practised in the North of Ireland. In Mauritius, we might think this is too far-fetched, but hate breeds hate like a self-perpetuating disease. And, once we engage on this path, any sense of logic goes out of the window.

<B>Diren VALAYDEN

Outlook Correspondent in Dublin</B>