Time to Write

With paper deadlines fast approaching (May 9^th) the time has come to buckle down and to put pen to paper, as they say. It's never easy to get started. It's never easy to frame your thoughts, assuming you have any thoughts to frame in the first place.

For my Political Strategy paper, I decided to write about the political legitimization of Sinn Fein in establishing a government for Northern Ireland. They told us at the beginning not to write about things that you have an established position on, or that you feel passionately about, since it is much harder to write objectively and academically. This was sound advice I chose to ignore.

Sinn Fein is the political wing of the Irish Republican Army, or political subordinate, depending on how you want to look at it. Many protestants declared that they would never join a power sharing government with the IRA, a position that was not hard to defend. But a lasting peace was never achieved without their support, and eventually all sides conceded. A Sinn Fein member named Martin McGuinness was named as a First Minister, a high position of power in the Northern Irish government. McGuinness also has another side job. Although the inner workings of the IRA are secret, he is widely believed to be head of the IRA's Army Council, essentially making him the top man in the IRA.

It's hard to read about Northern Ireland's progress in the last ten years (of which there has been a large amount) without thinking back. I remember the paramilitary march I went to, which induced the most fear and adrenaline I've ever experienced. I remember the helicopters diving above our heads maybe 50 feet off the ground, watching, listening. I remember the automatic weapons held by the police on every corner in the city center. I remember knowing that I stood out, that everyone knew I wasn't supposed to be there. In the end, it was much ado about nothing, although there was that electricity that came with knowing that history could be made at any moment.

I remember walking the North Belfast neighborhoods and seeing the murals of the paramilitaries. The flags that lined the entrances to subdivisions were emblazoned with the Red Right Hand that Protestant paramilitaries use. They were a warning or a welcome, depending on your heritage.

Protestant paramilitary mural (Photo is not mine)

I remember my first morning back in the United States. Restless with jet lag, I went walking at 5 or 6 in the morning. As I came to the first intersection I saw the Red Right Hand flashing at me from a crosswalk. I sucked in my breath. Then I looked around and saw that I was in sleepy early morning Fort Collins. It was calm and quiet.

Maybe they were right that we can't be objective when we write about things we have a history with, but I think that controlling my subjectivity to the best of my ability is a better skill than writing on things that don't excite me. I still think of Belfast when I see the Red Right Hand in the crosswalk, although without any visceral reaction. There are many cheap flights around Europe available, and I think after this semester is over I would like to visit again. I think we have a lot of catching up to do.