Denzil McDaniel: ‘Recollections may vary’ of NI or the Six Counties

It’s the unusual autobiographical remembering; a person spends an abnormally large amount of time thinking about their personal past, and has an extraordinary capacity to recall specific events from their personal past.

I suppose we’re all guilty of that. Remarkably, yesterday was the 49th anniversary of the day my mum died, and even though it was almost half a century ago, I remember a lot of little incidents and details of her when I was growing up.

I also remember other things from many years ago, like conversations I had with friends.

Indeed, someone once told me that I mention the past a lot in this column. So maybe hyperthymesia explains it ... especially at my age!

On a wider point, our past shapes us and the people of Northern Ireland have very different recollections of what this place means or meant to them growing up. Or, as the Royal Family says, “recollections may vary”!

I was quite surprised a few months ago when someone I knew at school posted on Facebook that he had just learned that the Government of Ireland Act of 1920 partitioned Ireland into two jurisdictions, with the formation of the new state of Northern Ireland which stayed under British rule, and the Free State in the south which formed its own parliament.

I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised that my friend didn’t know this; seeing we’re not taught much about the history of our own island, north or south, which is a great pity.

After all, if you don’t know where you’ve come from, how do you know where you’re going?

In a place where every narrative seems to be contested, it would be better if we could take a considered look at the facts of our history with an open mind.

I’ve just been taking part in a fascinating and informative course which has studied Partition and the effects of it over a century, which included discussions with people of all shades of opinion.

I assumed that it was only us Protestants that hadn’t really studied Irish history, but some of the Catholic participants said they hadn’t learned that much about it either.

A few things struck me. When discussions were taking place about a possible Border separating the Province of Ulster, the Ulster Unionists soon abandoned Donegal, Cavan and Monaghan to make sure they had a more sustainable majority in the rest of the six counties.

Apparently, a number of Protestants in east Donegal still carry what is called ‘intergenerational anger’ today at being let down.

In fact, at one stage it looked like the new Northern Ireland would be made up of only Antrim, Down, Armagh and Derry.

Consideration was given to letting Tyrone and Fermanagh go into the Free State, which would have left a very strong majority for Unionists. And that would have made my life very different.

The effect of Partition back then was to create two states on a small island, both dominated by religion.

In the north, the new Prime Minister, James Craig, was describing Stormont and Northern Ireland in 1934 as a Protestant Parliament and a Protestant State – an echo of the Free State’s Eamon De Valera, stating in 1931 that he was a Catholic first, in a State which enjoyed a special relationship with the Catholic Church.

Many Protestants in the south felt abandoned, some moved north, and I was interested to hear from some of those whose families stayed, they felt Irish and citizens of the Republic.

In the north, a minority community also found themselves abandoned, this time the Catholic/Nationalists, and with discrimination in jobs and housing, they have never felt fully part of Northern Ireland.

I’ve always felt that, as the two jurisdictions moved forward with little contact, cementing Partition, and with the succeeding administrations in Dublin and Belfast embracing their own power base, communities along both sides of the Border were neglected.

A short column like this is hardly the place to fully explore all the issues of identity and place which Partition created, but that brief look explains some of the context of our troubled past, and indeed why we are now seeing different opinions from different sections of the community about the events marking the centenary of Northern Ireland.

Note the careful wording, mark the centenary. The NIO was careful not to use the word ‘celebration’.

It may well be one of those situations where difference is tolerated. There are many people on the Unionist side who are proud of their culture and heritage, and the achievements of Northern Ireland over the century of its existence, although the triumphalist nature of some aspects is unfortunate.

There are Nationalists for whom the existence of this state and how they felt excluded is a reminder of why they could never celebrate it – so much so that they do not even use the name Northern Ireland.

The year of the centenary, as with the decade of centenaries, will pass, and what is important is how collectively we grasp the fact that the circumstances of the past resulted in consequences of bloody violence and tragedy which has dogged us and continues to cause division.

This is not to collectively forget the past; too many people were hurt, and a lot of that hurt remains unacknowledged.

For many, the past is their present, and those lost should never be forgotten. It is also a truism that we must remember the past or else we are condemned to repeat it.

But circumstances have changed; dogmatic adherence to religion and the damage that wreaked is no more.

People still have their faith in God, or not, but the power that man-made institutional leadership wielded is now gone.

The demographics in the north have changed, and overall, on the whole island, there are new communities and our young people want to move forward into a new era, whatever that brings.

I hope when future generations look back, their personal recollections of what life was like will be of a more positive, dynamic and a happier place.