A Place Apart by Dervla Murphy

Author:Dervla Murphy [Dervla Murphy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780600949
Publisher: Eland Publishing
Published: 2015-01-21T05:00:00+00:00

8

The War of the Myths

I met Bill in the post office-cum-general store of a Co. Antrim village and he invited me home for a cup of tea. He is a British Army pensioner who lives with his wife and half-a-dozen dogs in a little council house. Their only daughter is married to a policeman now stationed in Belfast; their only son went across the water the day after he left school – ‘We didn’t want him hanging around getting mixed up in things.’ Before the First World War Bill’s Catholic father migrated from Cavan to Enniskillen, joined the British Army, married a Church of Ireland girl and became a Protestant. He had wished to become an Orangeman but could not though his conversion was no matter of convenience but absolutely sincere. Only very occasionally are converts admitted to the Order and this man was thought to have too many Papist relatives. However, Bill himself was allowed to join his Junior Orange Lodge at the age of eight and thus he became a full Orangeman at seventeen instead of eighteen (the normal age for being initiated). He explained, ‘Discrimination against Catholics just doesn’t look like discrimination to the average Orangeman. It looks like defending the state against the enemy within the gates – people who have been working to destroy it every way they know how since it was founded – see?’

I did see, but I asked, ‘How long can you expect a state to survive when one-third of its population is opposed to its very existence?’

Bill sighed and slowly shook his head. ‘The pity is the Redmondites couldn’t win before there was any UVF or any 1916.’ We shook hands on that and two beautiful collies wagged their tails delightedly, apparently being Home Rulers too.

On either side of the living-room hearth were bookshelves loaded with volumes on Irish, English and European history – Bill’s hobby. He left school at fourteen, just as I did, and like many self-educated people who lack congenial companionship in their own circle he frequently writes to the newspapers and proudly showed me his file of cuttings on an astonishing variety of subjects. He also showed me his most treasured possession, a handwritten letter from Brian Faulkner thanking him for his help – when he lived in another area – during an election campaign. His devotion to the ex-leader of the moderate Unionists verged on hero-worship and he assured me that had Brian Faulkner not been opposed so relentlessly by Paisley the North would now be prospering under the power-sharing Executive. Although to outsiders Brian Faulkner seemed such an uninspiring character he aroused tremendous admiration among those who worked with him and deep affection among his constituents.

Bill admitted that the way things are now he wouldn’t fancy crossing the border – except of course into Donegal, which no Northerner seems to regard as Republican or Romish though it probably contains more Provo supporters than any other county in Ireland. Having spent many years abroad with his

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