Parades thinly disguised political triumphalism

The Twelfth of July parades, commonly referred to as Orange Order parades or Orangemen’s Day, are...
The Twelfth of July parades, commonly referred to as Orange Order parades or Orangemen’s Day, are annual celebrations held in Northern Ireland on July 12. PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES
Unsurprisingly, I found myself again in Belfast last week.

You see, I really like Northern Ireland. I’m fascinated by the convoluted history of the place, the beauty of the landscape, the warmth of its people and the historical tensions that ripple through the countryside and populace to this day.

On the bus ride from the airport to Belfast, I noticed an overwhelming preponderance of Union Jacks and Orange Order flags hanging limply from flagpoles, windowsills and shopfronts. Orange bunting was strung between houses, and every so often we passed a rather amateur painting of a ruddy-faced King Billy prancing about on his white steed. Later, as I strolled around the city centre, I saw the unsteady beginnings of massive bonfires — splintery wooden pallets stacked haphazardly in large piles. Daubed on walls and fences around these wooden stacks were sectarian slogans — "KAT" ("Kill All Taigs"), "KAI" ("Kill All Irish") and unsurprisingly, the tags of "UVF" (Ulster Volunteer Force) and "UDA" (Ulster Defence Association), albeit at different locations.

The Twelfth of July parades, commonly referred to as Orange Order parades or Orangemen’s Day, are annual celebrations held in Northern Ireland every July 12. Parades, marching bands, bonfires, and general shenanigans honour the triumph of Protestant King William of Orange against Catholic King James II in the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, which secured Protestant ascendancy in Ireland. While primarily an Ulster event, it is also observed in regions with strong Ulster ties or Irish Protestant settlements, such as Glasgow and Merseyside.

The Orange Order was founded in 1795 to protect and promote the principles of the Protestant Reformation and the "Glorious Revolution of 1688 that enshrined civil and religious liberty for all". Named after William of Orange, the order champions the values of Protestantism and unionism, and operates through a tiered system, consisting of individual lodges, regional districts, and an overarching grand lodge that manages its activities.

The preceding night, large bonfires are burnt throughout Protestant communities, with effigies and posters of Irish nationalist political figures frequently set ablaze too. During The Troubles, these bonfire nights were the stage for obscene displays of power, strength and violence by the UDA and UVF, with masked gunmen discharging firearms into the air. The Troubles may have ended but I have a sneaking suspicion that paramilitaries still run the show — a 2018 government-backed report revealed that these events enable paramilitaries to uphold their legitimacy and exert influence within community activities.

In the weeks leading up to the parades, Protestant and Unionist areas of Northern Ireland become whipped up in an Orange Order frenzy, bedecking their neighbourhoods with symbols of Ulster pride and British imperialism. Kerbstones are painted in red, white and blue, and "triumphal" arches of steel or wood are erected over main streets, adorned with flags and Orange symbols. The flags of illegal loyalist paramilitary groups — the aforementioned UVF and UDA to name a few — are flown, and tensions between Republican Catholic communities and Protestant Unionist ones began to simmer over.

Since its inception, the Twelfth of July has been marred by clashes between Ulster Protestants and Catholics, particularly during more intense periods of political strife such as The Troubles. The Twelfth is heralded by many Protestant loyalists as a significant cultural event, whereas Catholic Irish nationalists tend to see it as sectarian, triumphalist, and supremacist, especially due to the common practice of burning the Irish tricolour on bonfires the night before (alongside effigies, Catholic symbols, and posters of Irish nationalist figures), and the aggressive and provocative marching of Orange parades through Catholic neighbourhoods. Things have calmed down since the Good Friday Agreement, and efforts have even been made to attract tourists to some parades, but a current of ill-will can still be felt.

And this year it’s no different. A police car has been dragged to the top of Moygashel’s pyre in county Tyrone, countless Irish tricolours and large photographs of Sinn Fein member’s faces have been propped up on the pallets, ready to be burnt, and last month, a bunch of hapless goats and their handlers at St James’ Community Farm were harassed by a group of young men who hurled bricks and stole the goats’ wooden pallets, presumably for the bonfires.

Imagine if such nakedly hostile acts took place in London, or Auckland, or Sydney — if the Saltire was burnt, or the Tino Rangatiratanga flag, accompanied by effigies and incitements to violence against these communities. The response would be swift and fervent, condemning such overt displays of hate. So why is it acceptable to burn the Irish tricolour in Northern Ireland? What is such blatant bigotry so casually overlooked?

Is it finally time to be done with the parades?

On the one hand, the celebrations can be seen as a celebration of heritage and cultural traditions. The 2021 census revealed that for the first time, Catholics have outnumbered Protestants in Northern Ireland. Loyalist communities feel they are under threat and that their culture, their very Britishness is being taken away from them. On the other hand, such cultural celebrations should not come at the expense of another group’s oppression. Too often we see these bonfires and parades descend into chaos and rioting, with unregulated bonfires, shoddy health and safety measures, and excessive alcohol consumption posing significant risks to people and property.

I am of the mind that the bonfires need to be better regulated, with safety protocols and designated sites — if not cancelled altogether. If done right, they celebrate a significant historical event and provide a sense of identity and continuity to loyalist communities, although there should be zero tolerance for bigoted signs and hate speech.

I hope the Twelfth is one day truly a cultural celebration, rather than a thinly disguised display of political triumphalism and sectarianism.

— Jean Balchin is an ODT columnist who has started a new life in Edinburgh.