Sectarian chanting is, sadly, sometimes accepted as normal in Northern Ireland. For most, it is not acceptable behaviour. Unfortunately, however, it is not always entirely surprising to hear such songs. But a line was more than crossed last week when a song about Michaela McAreavey appeared in a social media video.
It was just over 10 years ago that many across the island mourned the Tyrone woman, murdered while on honeymoon aged just 27. She was the daughter of Mickey Harte, who managed the Tyrone team for 18 years, and she married John McAreavey in her home village of Ballygawley on December 30th, 2010.
The couple were staying in room 1025 of the Legends Hotel in Mauritius. On January 10th, 2011, Mrs McAreavey went to that room to get biscuits to have with her tea and was not seen alive again.
The schoolteacher with no links to politics and an avid anti-alcohol abuse campaigner, was embarking on the next stage of her life when was cruelly taken away.
Have your say: Has Holyhead Port disruption impacted your Christmas present parcels?
‘She’s a broken woman’: Homeowner paid €9,000 to liquidated Dublin windows firm
Stephen Collins: Despite the rhetoric from Mary Lou McDonald, Sinn Féin was the big election loser
Radio Review: At Newstalk, Ciara Kelly gets righteously annoyed
The sectarian song besmirching her memory was disgusting. The video is understood to have been filmed in an Orange hall in Dundonald, Co Down. Tables were strewn with empty cans of beer. Those singing the song appeared to know the words well, and they belted it out with gusto and smiling faces.
It was shameful. What impact it had on the Harte and McAreavey families I can only imagine. The hurt must have been awful.
Since it emerged, people clearly involved have been sacked from their workplaces. One person has been interviewed by the PSNI. The Orange Order said it would launch its own investigation. I understand some of those involved have since resigned from the organisation. And rightly so. They have brought shame and disgrace on themselves, their families and the organisation.
Everyone in that room should be taking a hard look at themselves. Some must have felt uncomfortable about what went on. But then, how often have we been somewhere when we could have spoken out but chose to be silent?
The emergence of the video and the cross-community condemnation brought with it an understandable social media explosion. Some posted videos of sectarian chanting and singing from what might be termed the “other side of the house” in a futile attempt at defence. There is no defence for mocking the murder of an innocent young woman.
Coalisland Football Club was investigated a few months earlier after a video emerged of a celebration of their Irish Junior Cup win over Bangor Young Men, with shouts of “Up the Ra”.
Given the history of Northern Ireland over the past few decades, that is something those who live there have come to expect from time to time. However, the emergence of the song mocking the death of Michaela McAreavey took things to an all-time low. There should be no place for hatred or sectarianism, but sadly there will be a few who will continue on that path.
Given the Orange Order’s links to the video, the organisation came in for criticism, some of it merited. But some suggested everyone associated with the organisation was bigoted. It is not the case that every member of the order hates Catholics. Yes, it is a predominantly Protestant organisation, but it is not totally non-inclusive, as some may think.
The marching season, as it is referred to in the North, is a time when tensions can rise, particularly around July when the annual Battle of the Boyne celebrations are held on the “Glorious Twelfth”.
It is the big day in Orangemen’s calendar. Sometimes there can be displays of triumphalism, but on the whole — in my experience — those taking part and watching are enjoying their culture.
There can be a huge difference in Orange Order celebrations in the city and the country. I am an Orangeman — although probably regarded as a lapsed member now — from rural Tyrone. I lived in a small community during the Troubles. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, who they were and what they did.
But there was respect for that. Being in the order did not stop me from talking to my Catholic neighbours. It did not stop me from going to the funeral or wedding of a Catholic neighbour. No one in the order ever challenged me on this. If they had, they would have got a short response and, if necessary, I would have resigned because I will not be dictated to on how I should lead my life.
I have attended rugby internationals in Dublin. I have stood for the national anthem when it was played. It is respectful. Just as in any country you are visiting, if you happen to be somewhere and their anthem is played, you show courtesy.
I am grateful that my children never had to live through the Troubles. They are being brought up, as I was, having respect for others. Of course, there are times when I look back at some of the things I may have said and done and wish I hadn’t, but who hasn’t?
My children were never exposed to the “them and us” labels so often used in the North. I have a daughter who is a champion Irish dancer. Some would remark about it to me in the past, but were quickly put back in their box. It is part of our culture. She enjoys it, puts in the work, gets the rewards and will receive the support she needs until she wants to stop. As will my boys in whatever they are doing.
Growing up in a small rural area in the 1970s and 1980s, there was not as much for children to do as there is today. Being a member of the Orange Order was not just about marching on a handful of days of the year.
Orange halls are akin to GAA halls in that they can be the focal point of the community. People would come to socialise, exercise at fitness classes, take part in bingo, a dance or a disco. Sport was always a big attraction. Table tennis and badminton were played and a bit of indoor football. In the Junior Orange Lodge, we read scripture and had scripture competitions among ourselves and against other lodges. There was a sports day and football tournaments. We were never taught to hate anyone. It was fun and it gave young people something to do.
Yes, there were parades. But it was an event for all the family. There were the formal parts of it — the speeches from the platform — but there were bouncy castles and other attractions in the field. It was a fun day out. And the businesses in the towns or villages near where it was held were happy to have the increased footfall irrespective of where their own allegiances lay.
I recall one Twelfth when we returned from the day’s events. Rain was forecast and it was out of the regalia and into the working clothes to bring in the hay quickly, helped by our Catholic neighbours, whom we had helped the previous day with their bales.
“Did you have a good day?” we were often asked. “Aye, it all went well and the weather held up,” would be the reply. It was acknowledged and you moved on with mutual respect.
In urban areas the divisions are sharper. And tensions are perhaps higher, spurred on by some who should know better.
I moved to England relatively recently. When Tyrone made it to last year’s All Ireland final — I am a fan of GAA — I felt like I was the only person in southeast England tuning in to watch the match.
I am not a true-blue royalist, but during the platinum jubilee weekend, in common with my new neighbours, I put up some bunting. I also put up a Northern Ireland flag because I am proud of my roots. But the big difference with the jubilee over here was that there were no paramilitary emblems on view.
Richard Mulligan is an Orangeman and sports journalist from Co Tyrone, writing here in a personal capacity