Opinion

Fionnuala O Connor: Historical perspective illuminates the Troubles and Brexit grievances

The story of would-be reforming unionist leader Terence O'Neill reveals much about pre-Troubles Stormont politics
The story of would-be reforming unionist leader Terence O'Neill reveals much about pre-Troubles Stormont politics The story of would-be reforming unionist leader Terence O'Neill reveals much about pre-Troubles Stormont politics

SENSE of perspective is good. Keeping your head might even qualify as leadership.

One of the ways to handle the present upheaval on these islands is to recall much worse upheaval.

The anniversaries from 1969 have scarcely begun. A no-deal Brexit is a scary proposition, but it has nothing on tipping into decades of the violence and destruction we called the Troubles.

In February 1969, no matter what know-alls claim now, nobody knew how close the living and dying nightmare was and how long it would last.

Anyone younger than 60 now may never have considered that.

Unless they happen to be self-taught scholars - lots of those - thoughtful 'ex-combatants' or 'conflict studies' academics, younger people have no idea what passed for politics here up to that point.

The big, central difference can do with being spelled out, especially because the conspiracy-minded and grievance-hoarders dislike it being stated clearly.

Nationalism is up now, unionism down.

Everyone can see that shattered and misled Northern Ireland unionism is dragging down a British Conservative leader.

Or close to being dumped by her, not yet clear which. 'Ulster' being jettisoned, or used as a late bargaining-tool?

Factor in bottomless Tory cynicism. Anonymous cabinet ministers have been briefing that a border poll might now be in prospect. The DUP is denying internal splits.

And facing downbeat DUP-fronted unionism is northern Irish nationalism, in a messy enough state but upbeat by contrast.

This is a big switch, the opposite to how it was for Stormont's 50 years.

The late-1960s prelude to the Troubles strained unionism, stumped by pressure to reform their state and be fair to Catholics.

The pressure came from civil rights agitation and a British Labour government galvanised at last by the long-ignored scandal of Stormont misrule.

What happened in those pre-Troubles years began the process that eventually flipped the two communities, reversing their positions and their status.

Unionist siege mentality had been their alibi, or to put it with maximum empathy their rationale.

In each previous decade there was an IRA campaign of sorts against the 'British occupation of the six counties'.

The Catholic state across the border was frightening to northern Protestants, repressive to its own people.

So unionism in power denied jobs and houses to keep would-be rebels down.

Protestant unionists were a community with conviction in their own rightness and, at least among the ruling class, their superiority over Catholic nationalists, a poorer and politically hopeless people.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s the name 'nationalists' among Catholics meant not their community but the ageing, powerless politicians who had agreed to sit in Stormont as a disregarded, powerless opposition. What choice had they?

The statement that probably revealed most about pre-Troubles politics, and society, came from Terence O'Neill, would-be reforming Stormont prime minister forced out by his own party, and by loyalist bombing meant to look like a new IRA campaign.

Shy, snobbish, well-meaning, the man had a cloth ear for his own utterances.

As he famously told the Belfast Telegraph, his faithful supporter, 11 days after his resignation: "It is frightfully hard to explain to Protestants that if you give Roman Catholics a good job and a good house they will live like Protestants because they will see neighbours with cars and television sets.

"They will refuse to have 18 children. But if a Roman Catholic is jobless, and lives in the most ghastly hovel he will rear 18 children on National Assistance.

"If you treat Roman Catholics with due consideration and kindness they will live like Protestants in spite of the authoritative nature of their Church."

Frightfully hard to explain, and simultaneously patronising to already impatient Catholics and to Protestants inflamed by Bill Craig, Ian Paisley and others.

Street clashes made worse by the almost wholly Protestant RUC, British troops brought in as peacekeepers; the stage was set for a revived IRA.

Unionism arguably needed more time to absorb and acknowledge its own responsibility before IRA bombs and bullets created a new perspective.

The dirty war included collusion and many loyalist killings but republicans killed most.

Here as in the Republic, IRA responsibility for almost 2,000 deaths hangs around Sinn Féin necks.

They negotiated their way out of the Troubles, built their vote on leaving violence behind, decommissioned, accepted the PSNI. Sinn Féin is still whistling past graveyards.

And for many unionists, the righteousness of 'We did nothing wrong' limits, if it does not hobble, all negotiations.

But perspective illuminates the Troubles back-story, and shows Brexiting as new grievance in a very different frame.