Microsoft Word - final version.doc Multiculturalism and Sectarianism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland Peter Geoghegan PhD University of Edinburgh 2008 - ii - Abstract This dissertation contributes to existing scholarship on contemporary multiculturalism. It does so by exploring how multicultural agendas are operationalised in Northern Ireland – a society divided along sectarian lines. As the political violence of the conflict has receded, Northern Ireland has witnessed unprecedented levels of in-migration. This dissertation seeks to understand how, as Northern Irish society is increasingly being conceived of as culturally diverse, emerging multicultural agendas interact with embedded sectarianism. The empirical research focuses on the political institutions and policies pertaining to Northern Ireland as a whole, and the specific activities and social practices of various ethnically-identified minorities, voluntary organisations and anti-racist movements in selected areas of Belfast. The research involved interviews with civil servants, policy makers, ethnically-identified minorities, voluntary groups and anti-racist activists. This dissertation argues that a government concern for managing cultural diversity can be understood as part of a process of ‘normalising’ Northern Ireland after the conflict. However, a persistent sectarianism complicates, and often impedes, the advancement of multicultural, and particularly anti-racist, agendas. This argument is developed through an exploration of policy and institutional structures, anti-racist campaigns and responses to racialised violence, as well as initiatives that seek to recognise and celebrate cultural diversity. This dissertation shows that the relationship between sectarianism and multiculturalism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland is not unidirectional. Instead, the two processes are deeply imbricated with each other: multicultural initiatives are shaped by sectarianism, and sectarianism persists in emergent multicultural imaginaries. This said, the dissertation suggests that multiculturalism is also capable of disrupting sectarian constructions of space and identity in Northern Ireland. Based on these findings, this dissertation argues that cultural diversity provides an opportunity to denaturalise the social structures and narratives which reproduce sectarianism. It is argued that this process could play an important role in advancing the construction of a socially cohesive and multicultural Northern Ireland. - iii - Acknowledgements Over the last four years so many people helped me in different ways that it would be impossible to do them all justice here, but, of course, some people stand out for special thanks. First, my sincere thanks go to Jane Jacobs and Jan Penrose, my two supervisors. They stuck by me throughout; always on hand with help, advice and motivational talks when needed, and I owe this dissertation to them. The research for this dissertation would not have been possible without the generous sponsorship I received from the Institute of Geography at the University of Edinburgh. I would also like to thank the SPIRIT centre at the University of Aalborg (and the Marie Curie Foundation) for allowing me to spend four wonderful months in Denmark. I would also like to say a special thank you to all the participants in this research; so many of whom went out of their way to help me. The help (and, dare I say it, occasional hindrance) of my friends and family was always vital. In my early days in Edinburgh, Barry and Susie were always there for me; later joined by Ruairi, Brid, Ralph and Andy. In Belfast, I was met with so much goodwill that I’ve never really left since. Special thanks to Lewis, Stuart, Karen, Romana and many others for making me feel at home and then constantly distracting me with gigs to go to, pubs to drink in and plays to review. Thanks also to the Geography Department at Queens University, Belfast, and particularly Ian Shuttleworth, for allowing me to use their facilities for the duration of my fieldwork in Belfast. Cheers also to my fellow postgrads in Edinburgh who put up with me breezing in about once every six months, making a horrible mess and leaving again. Special thanks to Omar, Nick and Sebastian for helping with the formatting on the dissertation, and to Charlie for being a good friend and an even better example for me to finish up. It wasn’t always easy, but it was the inspiration provided by Mike McQueen, Ealasaid and Greg Dulli that got me through the difficult last few months. And a special thanks to my brother, Robbie. This dissertation is dedicated to my mum Mary Melvin Geoghegan and my grandfather Alfred Melvin. Their love, support and faith has helped me through this, and every other curveball life has thrown. Cheers. - iv - Declaration of Originality I hereby declare that the dissertation has been composed by me, that it is my own work and that it has not been submitted for any other degree or professional qualification. Parts of this dissertation have been published as ‘Beyond Orange and Green? The awkwardness of negotiating difference in Northern Ireland’ in Irish Studies Review 16 (2): 173-194. This paper is reproduced, with the permission of Routledge publishing, as Appendix V. Peter Geoghegan 2008 - v - Abbreviations AIA Anglo-Irish Agreement BBC British Broadcasting Corporation CCRU Central Community Relations Unit CDA Critical Discourse Analysis CEO Chief Executive Officer CERD Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination CRC Community Relations Council CRE Commission for Racial Equality CRJ Community Restorative Justice CRU Community Relations Unit CSU Community Safety Unit CWA Chinese Welfare Association DCA Department of Constitutional Affairs DSD Department of Social Development DUP Democratic Unionist Party ECNI Equality Commission for Northern Ireland GAA GRO Gaelic Athletic Association Good Relations Officer IRA Irish Republican Army MP Member of Parliament NI Northern Ireland NIA Northern Ireland Assembly NICEM Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities NIHRC Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission NIO Northern Ireland Office NISRA Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency OFMDFM Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister PD People’s Democracy PSNI Police Service of Northern Ireland PSP Prisoner’s Support Program PUP Progressive Unionist Party REU Racial Equality Unit - vi - RRA RRO Race Relations Act Race Relations Order RUC Royal Ulster Constabulary SACHR Standing Advisory Committee on Human Rights SCA Springfield Charitable Association SDLP Social Democratic and Labour Party TSN Targeting Social Need UDA Ulster Defence Association UFF Ulster Freedom Fighters UK United Kingdom UKUP United Kingdom Unionist Party UUP Ulster Unionist Party UVF Ulster Volunteer Force WARN West Against Racism Network - vii - Contents Abstract ........................................................................................................................ ii Acknowledgements ......................................................................................................iii Declaration of Originality........................................................................................... iv Abbreviations ............................................................................................................... v List of Figures ............................................................................................................. xi List of Tables.............................................................................................................. xii Chapter One: Introducing the Dissertation............................................................. 1 1.1. Introducing and Outlining the Dissertation........................................................... 2 Chapter Two: Understanding Multiculturalism and Sectarianism: A Review of the Literature.............................................................................................................. 9 2. 1. Introduction .................................................................................................... 10 2.2. Understanding Religious Difference ............................................................... 11 2.2.1. Geographies of religion............................................................................ 12 2.2.2. Existing perspectives on sectarianism in Northern Ireland...................... 13 2.3. Approaches to Understanding Multiculturalism ............................................. 18 2.3.1. Demographic multiculturalism and racism in multicultural societies...... 19 2.3.2. The politics of recognition ....................................................................... 22 2.3.3. Approaches to understanding anti-racism ................................................ 27 2.3.4. Reviewing UK multicultural policy ......................................................... 30 2.4. Perspectives on ‘Multicultural’ Northern Ireland ........................................... 34 2.4.1. Demographic changes and racism in Northern Ireland............................ 34 2.4.2. The politics of recognition in Northern Ireland ....................................... 38 2.4.3. Analyses of anti-racism in Northern Ireland ............................................ 40 2.4.4. Research on post-Agreement public policy ............................................. 41 2.4. Conclusion....................................................................................................... 43 - viii - Chapter Three: Methodology.................................................................................. 46 3.1. Introduction ..................................................................................................... 47 3.2. Discourse Analysis.......................................................................................... 48 3.3. Selecting Field Sites, Sources and Informants ................................................ 52 3.4. Data Collection and Analysis.......................................................................... 57 3.4.1. Interviewing through semi-structured interviews .................................... 58 3.4.2. Interviewer experiences ........................................................................... 61 3.4.3. Transcribing and analysing interview data .............................................. 65 3.4.4. Observation .............................................................................................. 68 3.4.5. Visual methods......................................................................................... 70 3.5. Limitations of Methodology ........................................................................... 73 3.6. Conclusion....................................................................................................... 75 Chapter Four: Setting the Scene: An Historical Overview of Sectarianism and Multiculturalism in Northern Ireland.................................................................... 77 4.1. Introduction ..................................................................................................... 78 4.2. A Brief History of Northern Ireland................................................................ 80 4.3. Managing Sectarianism: Community Relations in Northern Ireland.............. 84 4.4. The Agreement................................................................................................ 87 4.5. After the Agreement........................................................................................ 90 4.6. Migration and Diversity in Northern Ireland .................................................. 94 4.7. Conclusion..................................................................................................... 100 Chapter Five: Managing Multiculturalism in a Divided Society: Public Policy in Northern Ireland .................................................................................................... 103 5.1. Introduction ................................................................................................... 104 - ix - 5.2. ‘Race’ Relations Policy during ‘the Troubles’.............................................. 105 5.3. From ‘Community Relations’ to ‘Good Relations’: Multicultural Policy since the Agreement ...................................................................................................... 108 5.3.1. Managing diversity as ‘normalisation’................................................... 113 5.4. Sketching the Institutions of Good Relations................................................ 115 5.4.1. Good relations in the devolved administration ...................................... 116 5.4.2. Good relations in the non-devolved administration ............................... 120 5.4.3. Good relations in non-governmental public bodies ............................... 121 5.5. Interrogating Good Relations in post-Agreement Institutional Frameworks 126 5.5.1. Fragmented institutional structure ......................................................... 126 5.5.2. Separation between devolved and non-devolved institutions and powers .......................................................................................................................... 128 5.5.3. Privileging sectarian identities in the Agreement’s institutions and practices............................................................................................................ 130 5.6. Conclusion..................................................................................................... 135 Chapter Six: Multicultural Agendas in Practice: Responding to Racism and Recognising Difference .......................................................................................... 138 6.1. Introduction ................................................................................................... 139 6.2. Responding to Racism in Northern Ireland................................................... 140 6.2.1. Policing in Northern Ireland................................................................... 142 6.2.2. Visual culture of PSNI hate crime awareness campaign ....................... 146 6.2.3. ‘They’re not interested in our issues’: Policing ‘race’ in Northern Ireland .......................................................................................................................... 149 6.3. Celebrating Cultural Diversity ...................................................................... 155 6.3.1. Celebrating multiculture(s), essentialising difference............................ 155 6.3.2. Recognising cultural difference in sectarian spaces............................... 159 6.3.3. Negotiating cultural difference, destabilising sectarianism ................... 165 6.4. Conclusion..................................................................................................... 167 - x - Chapter Seven: ‘Showing Your True Colours’: The Visual Culture of Anti- racism in West Belfast ........................................................................................... 170 7.1. Introduction ................................................................................................... 171 7.2. Spatial Segregation and Visual Culture in Northern Ireland ........................ 172 7.2.1. Murals in Northern Ireland..................................................................... 174 7.3. Locating Anti-racism(s) in West Belfast....................................................... 178 7.3.1. Republican – WARN mural: ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ ................. 184 7.3.2. Loyalist – Shankill Alternatives mural: ‘Declare War on Racism’ ....... 192 7.3.3. A glimmer of hope? Another anti-racist mural ...................................... 199 7.4. Posters and Pamphlets................................................................................... 204 7.4.1. WARN texts ........................................................................................... 204 7.4.2. ‘Loyalist or racist? You can’t be Both’.................................................. 210 7.5. Conclusion..................................................................................................... 218 Chapter Eight: Conclusion.................................................................................... 221 8.1 Introduction ........................................................................................................ 222 8.2 A Review of the Dissertation ............................................................................. 222 8.3 Concluding Reflections on Sectarianism, Multiculturalism and their Outworking in Northern Ireland ................................................................................................... 228 Appendix I: Sample Letter of Introduction .............................................................. 236 Appendix II: Interview Index................................................................................... 237 Appendix III: Sample Interview Schedules ............................................................. 239 Appendix IV: Consent Form .................................................................................... 243 Appendix V Published Material............................................................................... 244 Bibliography............................................................................................................. 265 - xi - List of Figures Figure 1.1 Map of Northern Ireland. 6 Figure 4.1 Racist attacks on Ulster’s minorities, Belfast Telegraph clipping. 99 Figure 4.2 Loyalists blamed for racist attacks, Guardian clipping. 100 Figure 5.1 Cover of A Racial Equality Strategy. 112 Figure 5.2 Chart of post-Agreement institutional structures. 116 Figure 5.3 Chart of Equality Directorate, OFMDFM. 117 Figure 5.4 Chart of non-governmental public bodies. 122 Figure 6.1 PSNI racial incidents flyer. 143 Figure 6.2 ‘Hate Crime is Wrong’ poster. 147 Figure 6.3 Brochure for 2005 Belfast Mela. 156 Figure 6.4 Samhain/Diwali flyer. 159 Figure 7.1 Map of residential segregation in Belfast. 179 Figure 7.2 Map of West Belfast. 180 Figure 7.3 UVF memorial, Shankill Road. 181 Figure 7.4 Bobby Sands mural, Falls Road. 182 Figure 7.5 Race crime in West Belfast, Andersonstown News clipping. 183 Figure 7.6 ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural. 185 Figure 7.7 Fredrick Douglass mural. 189 Figure 7.8 Reproduction of ‘Fight Bigotry’ mural in Andersonstown News. 190 Figure 7.9 ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural. 192 Figure 7.10 Youths painting ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural. 195 Figure 7.11 Racialised minorities painting ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural. 196 Figure 7.12 ‘Multicultural dancing’ at mural launch. 197 Figure 7.13 Map showing location of ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural. 200 Figure 7.14 ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural (Filipino). 201 Figure 7.15 ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural (English). 201 Figure 7.16 ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural (Irish). 202 Figure 7.17 Front cover WARN passport. 206 Figure 7.18 Photo page WARN passport. 207 Figure 7.19 Front cover ‘Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both’ pamphlet. 211 Figure 7.20 Inside panel ‘Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both’ pamphlet. 213 Figure 7.21 Posters from ‘Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both’ campaign. 215 -xii- List of Tables Table 5.1 Summary of good relations institutions and their policies. 126 Table 5.2 Summary of reallocation of responses to 2001 Northern Ireland census.133 1 Chapter One Introducing the Dissertation 2 1.1. Introducing and Outlining the Dissertation It is clear that people are moving around the globe along new migratory pathways, and in larger numbers, than ever before (Abbas 2005). It is in this context that many commentators have identified the existence of cultural diversity as the defining feature of contemporary Western societies (Body-Gendrot 1998; Kobayashi 1993). This increased plurality and diversity has precipitated the rise of multiculturalism within the borders of many Western nation states (Hall 1992; Vasta 2007). In these contexts, multiculturalism – encompassing a wide range of inclusionary practices and principles – has become the major ideological response and societal adaptation to the presence of cultural diversity (Kymlicka 1995; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994; Vertovec 1996; 2007a). Although multiculturalism is already being critiqued (Hesse 2000), multicultural agendas continue to dominate both policy and academic debates on cultural diversity in society (Cohen 1999). Through its engagement with the emergence of multicultural agendas in contemporary Northern Ireland this dissertation contributes to existing scholarship on contemporary multiculturalism. More specifically, my work investigates what happens when new multicultural visions are brought into a society that is grounded historically in sectarianism. Multiculturalism is typically conceived of as a response to issues of ‘race’ and ethnicity in contemporary societies and, indeed, has generally been studied as such (Mitchell 2004; Vasta 2007; Vertovec 1996).1 Despite this burgeoning literature, very little has been written about what happens when multicultural agendas emerge in a society divided along sectarian lines. In looking at multicultural agendas in contemporary Northern Ireland, my research is unique and represents an important contribution to the literature on multiculturalism in diverse societies. 1 The term ‘race’ was once understood to imply the existence of naturally discrete and discernible groups in human populations. This is no longer the case, and it is now widely accepted that ‘race’ is a socially constructed category; it is common now to talk of ‘racialised’ groups and processes of ‘racialisation’. However, the academic debate surrounding this facet of difference in contemporary society continues to be couched in the terms ‘race’ and ‘racial’. Mindful of the need to use the term, but also of its social construction, the terms ‘race’ and ‘racial’ are placed in quotes throughout this dissertation to stress that ‘race’ has no ontological status as a categorisation and that the distinctions made by the term have no biological basis. In doing this I follow a long tradition, e.g. Bonnett (1996), Jackson and Penrose (1993) and Miles (1989). 3 Sectarianism, the ‘adherence to a particular sect or party or denomination, often leading to the rejection of other beliefs’, has characterised relations between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists in Northern Ireland from colonial times right up to the present day (Darby 1976; Lewis 2006: 27).2 As will become apparent later, the social and economic division of Northern Irish society along sectarian lines dates back over four hundred years (Bardon 1992; Coulter 1999). It was this sectarian division that eventually precipitated the widespread violence and social unrest of ‘the Troubles’ (1969-1998) (Buckland 1981). This armed sectarian conflict lasted almost thirty years; ending in the later 1990s with the peace process and signing of the Good Friday Agreement (1998).3 This political settlement established the legislative basis for a devolved power-sharing administration in Northern Ireland, and created the context in which a post-conflict future for Northern Ireland could be envisaged (Graham and Nash 2006). Sectarian tensions have not completely disappeared (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006), yet the changes in the political situation in Northern Ireland over the course of the last decade have been so remarkable that the region has become a site of in-migration for the first time (Rogers 2006). It is within this context that the term multiculturalism has appeared in both academic and non-academic accounts of contemporary Northern Ireland (Chan 2006; McVeigh and Rolston 2007; Nash 2005; OFMDFM 2005a). 2 There has been a great deal of debate and discussion surrounding the precise terms used to signify the two dominant communal groupings in Northern Ireland (Coulter 1999). Unionists support the continuation of the political union between Northern Ireland and Great Britain. In contrast, Nationalists aspire to replace the union with Great Britain with an all-Ireland Republic. Although the terms Unionist and Nationalist refer to political positions, in practice they are seen as closely tied with religious difference. In Northern Ireland the vast majority of Unionists are Protestant, similarly almost all Nationalists define themselves as Catholic (Coakley 2007). In an effort to avoid the assumption that religious and political identities are identical (and the reification of the ‘two traditions’ conceptualisation of Northern Irish society that goes with this assumption), throughout this dissertation I refer to the two groups using the construction Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist. The religious signifiers Catholic and Protestant are only used when I am referring directly to the religions themselves and/or their adherents. I also use the more specific terms Republican and Loyalist where appropriate. Republicans can be defined as Catholic/Nationalists who support the use of physical force to pursue their political goals and Loyalists as their Protestant/Unionist equivalent. Though these definitions are less than ideal a more detailed exploration is beyond the scope of this study (see Coulter (1999) and Todd (1987) for further discussions on these distinctions). 3 The official name of the settlement reached in April 1998 is ‘the Agreement reached in the Multi-Party Negotiations’. As with so much in Northern Ireland, the title of this settlement became a source of some debate, and a plethora of different names have been used to refer to it. In this instance I refer to it as the Good Friday Agreement, but henceforth in this dissertation it is referred to simply as the Agreement. 4 My research examines what happens when multiculturalism and sectarianism meet in the specific context of a Northern Irish society that is trying to move beyond sectarian division and towards ‘normality’ (Bairner 2006). The over-riding objective of this dissertation is to examine and elucidate the relationship between emerging multicultural agendas and sectarianism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. More specifically, my research is concerned with how multicultural agendas have changed or tempered the expression of sectarianism in Northern Irish society. Conversely, my research is also concerned with how the legacy of sectarianism in Northern Ireland has structured, and potentially undermined, multicultural agendas. This research is significant because it will inform scholarship and understanding of these different processes in complexly diverse societies. Addressing these issues has empirical relevance too. Understanding how sectarianism and multiculturalism intersect has important policy implications for Northern Ireland as it tries to move beyond the sectarian division and violence of its past. In this dissertation I argue that emerging multicultural agendas and sectarianism in Northern Ireland are mutually constituted. Although the presence of cultural diversity in society is often constructed as a vehicle for moving Northern Ireland beyond sectarianism, in practice both multiculturalism and sectarianism have an effect on one another. As my work shows, the ways that these ideologies affect each other varies in accordance with the context in which they come together. In many contexts and situations the sectarianism embedded in Northern Irish society and its governing institutions is shown to hinder the goals of multicultural agendas. However, in some circumstances, it seems that multiculturalism provides an opportunity to fundamentally destabilise and change ways of being and doing that (re)produce sectarianism. As such, multiculturalism and sectarianism in Northern Ireland are always inflected. Ultimately, the relationship between them across a range of contexts will dictate whether Northern Irish society can move forward to a genuinely post-sectarian future, or whether it is, and will remain, a sectarian society glossed over with a sprinkling of multicultural rhetoric and initiatives. 5 To set the present work in context, Chapter Two reviews literature on sectarianism, multiculturalism and previous research on multicultural agendas in contemporary Northern Ireland. Sectarianism in Northern Ireland is introduced as much more than an expression of religious difference in society: it is shown to be a complex social and political phenomenon that is constituted by specific sets of discourses and practices that (re)produce sectarian narratives and identities in social space. Against this backdrop, I move on to consider multiculturalism in diverse societies. Following Stuart Hall (2000), I conceptualise multiculturalism as a range of different strategies, all of which attempt to fix the meaning of cultural diversity in society. Specifically, I outline four ways that multiculturalism has been conceived of in the literature; demographic multiculturalism, the politics of recognition, anti-racism and multicultural policy. These different multicultural agendas both frame the empirical research presented in the substantive chapters and provide the structure for the review of literature on cultural diversity and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland. Chapter Three details the methodological approach and research design of the dissertation. Here I describe and justify my broad methodological commitment to discourse analysis, and elucidate how discourse analysis can be productively utilised to investigate social practice, as well as texts and talk. I advocate the use of a range of qualitative methods, including semi-structured interviewing, observation, institutional and policy analysis, and visual analysis, to ensure the triangulation of research data in exploring the interaction of sectarianism and emergent multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. In this research, my institutional and policy analysis concerned Northern Ireland as a whole, but my ethnographic engagement focused on Belfast (Figure 1.1). It was in Belfast that I conducted semi-structured interviews and participant observation. The rationale for site selection, interviews conducted, events attended and the fieldwork period that the research was carried out within is detailed in this chapter. I also discuss techniques of data collection and analysis, including the use of visual methods. Reflecting on issues that arose during my research, I consider my own identity and its potential impact on the research process. I also briefly reflect on some of the weaknesses and limitations of the methodological approach that has been employed in my work. 6 Figure 1.1: Map locating Northern Ireland and Belfast in relation to the United Kingdom and Ireland (Source: www.student.britannica.com) The context of the dissertation is developed further in Chapter Four. This chapter provides the reader with the background necessary for a full understanding of the succeeding substantive chapters. In a condensed account of the history of Northern Ireland I describe how sectarianism has been the dominant feature of society and space in this region since the first Ulster Plantations (from 1607). I also consider how attempts to resolve the Northern Irish conflict, including community relations and the Agreement itself, have sought to manage sectarian relations. In setting out the general situation in contemporary Northern Ireland Chapter Four reviews some of the social, economic and political changes that have taken place since the Agreement. This includes the emergence of efforts to present Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society that is moving beyond sectarianism. Finally, I outline the history of migration and the presence of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. Increased migration and the increased incidence of racism in Northern Irish society provides the context that emerging multicultural agendas are being generated around. Chapter Five, the first of three analytical chapters, examines how multicultural agendas are being produced and enacted within the public policy and institutional frameworks of 7 post-Agreement Northern Ireland. More specifically, it considers how a multicultural vision of a post-conflict society emerges alongside, and is complicated by, the history and legacy of managing sectarianism. In this chapter I explore the shift in Northern Irish public policy and legislation from an almost singular concern with sectarian (community) relations to a burgeoning awareness of ‘race’ and multicultural (good) relations. Drawing on an analysis of public policy, institutional structures and interviews with policy makers and civil servants, Chapter Five charts and analyses the institutional structure of good relations in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. I assess how the emergence of a concern for other vectors of difference besides sectarian relations can be considered as part of a process of re-imagining Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ and culturally diverse society. In the process of examining institutions and policies aimed at managing multiculturalism, I explore how, in certain contexts, emerging multicultural policy agendas are undermined by the continuation of practices that (re)produce sectarianism in post-Agreement governing structures. Chapter Six explores practices and initiatives that seek to actualise multiculturalism on the ground in Belfast city. In this chapter I consider two dimensions of a self-conscious drive to construct a multicultural, post-sectarian society: responses to racialised violence and events which seek to raise awareness of the presence of cultural diversity. Here I analysis the visual culture of a police hate crime awareness poster campaign and interviews with ethnically-identified minorities to assess the relationship between sectarianism and responses to racialised violence. Employing the concept of the multicultural politics of recognition, I also explore how events which seek to celebrate cultural diversity are structured by the sectarian division of society and space. Despite this, Chapter Six develops further my argument that sectarianism and multiculturalism are mutually imbricated with each other in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. Drawing on specific examples, I investigate how, in certain contexts, emerging multicultural agendas and practices are providing opportunities to deconstruct and undermine accepted ideas about sectarianism and sectarian difference. Visual culture such as political murals, posters and pamphlets have long played an integral role in the (re)production of sectarian identities and narratives in social space in 8 Northern Ireland (Jarman 1997; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). Chapter Seven investigates the use of these same mediums to produce a different multicultural message: that of anti- racism. Here I look specifically at representations produced and distributed by anti-racist groups operating on either side of the Shankill/Falls ‘peaceline’ in West Belfast.4 Although deeply segregated along sectarian lines, the social and political context of West Belfast has changed significantly in the last decade. The emergence of anti-racist groups in West Belfast reflects increased migration and a concern about racism in the area. In this chapter I analyse murals, posters and pamphlets from two anti-racist groups; one based on the Republican Falls Road and the other on the Loyalist Shankill. As well as expanding traditional scholarship on political murals in Northern Ireland, this chapter investigates further the relationship between new visions of social relations in Northern Ireland (anti-racism) and embedded sectarianism. At the same time as exploring the impact of sectarianism on these anti-racist representations, I demonstrate how these representations are sometimes contested, and also how, in certain contexts, this visual culture of sectarian division is being used and potentially transformed by new migrant groups. Chapter Eight concludes this dissertation by suggesting that this detailed examination of sectarianism and emerging multicultural agendas opens up wider debates about the future of post-Agreement Northern Irish society. The presence of cultural diversity and the emergence of multicultural agendas provide an opportunity to radically alter sclerotic social relations in Northern Ireland. At the same time, however, it seems clear that the resilience of sectarianism in political institutions and social life has a major impact on efforts to re-imagine Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’, post-sectarian society in which cultural diversity is recognised and respected. Understanding how sectarianism and multiculturalism come together differently in different contexts has important policy implications if moving Northern Ireland beyond sectarianism to a socially cohesive future is really to be a meaningful aspiration. In this chapter I review the dissertation and draw out the theoretical and empirical implications of my research findings. 4 A ‘peaceline’ is the name given to the separation barriers erected at interfaces between Protestant/Unionist and Catholic/Nationalist residential communities in some urban areas of Northern Ireland. These barriers, which are supposed to reduce sectarian violence, typically take the form of iron or steel walls that can be up to 25 metres’ high. 9 Chapter Two Understanding Multiculturalism and Sectarianism: A Review of the Literature 10 2.1. Introduction This dissertation is concerned with the emergence of multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland; a society traditionally divided along sectarian lines. In this chapter the various ways that social scientists have approached sectarianism and multiculturalism are reviewed, and relevant empirical studies of contemporary Northern Ireland are discussed. The aim of this chapter is to establish a theoretical framework for analysing the intersection of emerging multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism. First, this chapter considers studies of the role of religion in society and, particularly, sectarianism in Northern Ireland. Emerging geographies of religion have traced the intersection of religion, ‘race’ and identity in contemporary societies. However, I argue that these studies have limited utility for understanding the specific power of ideas of religious difference in Northern Ireland. Studies of sectarianism in Northern Ireland have more fully accounted for sectarianism as a social and political phenomenon. As such sectarianism is constituted by specific sets of discourses and practices that (re)produce sectarian narratives and identities; even in the absence of political violence. The chapter then reviews some of the extensive literature within human geography, sociology, cultural studies and political science that addresses the issue of multiculturalism in diverse societies. Drawing particularly on the work of Stuart Hall (2000), I argue that the term ‘multiculturalism’ can be understood to refer to a range of different strategies that attempt to fix the meaning of cultural diversity in society. In this section I briefly outline four ways in which multiculturalism may be operationalised. First, I treat multiculturalism as a basic description of a socially diverse society (Grillo 2007; Kobayashi 1993; Vertovec 1996; 2007b). Racism, racialisation and responses to these processes are considered as important issues that arise within contemporary socially diverse societies (Abbas 2005; Banton 1967; 2005a). Second, I examine debates around the ‘politics of recognition’ that have animated recent discussions on multiculturalism in liberal-democratic societies (Kymlicka 1995; 2001; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994). Previous studies have often focused on the recognition of different culturally defined groups in society through ‘multicultural’ initiatives such as festivals 11 (Duffy 2005; Jackson 1988; 1992). Third, I approach anti-racism as a sub-field of multiculturalism that emerges in diverse societies (Anthias and Lloyd 2002; Bonnett 2000). Key empirical and theoretical literature on anti-racism is reviewed and discussed (Detant 2005; Lentin 2004; Lloyd 2002; Murji 2005; Wievorka 1997). Fourth, multiculturalism can be understood as both public policy and its institutions (Hall 2000; Vertovec 1996). In reviewing the history of multicultural policy in Britain I set out the contemporary policy landscape, and argue that previous studies have failed to attend fully to the role of institutions in the production and enactment of multicultural policy The third section of this chapter reviews the more specific, but rather patchy, literature on multiculturalism in contemporary Northern Ireland. Recent empirical studies have tended to focus on the problem of prejudicial attitudes and behaviours directed towards ethnically-identified minorities (Gilligan and Lloyd 2006; Jarman and Monaghan 2003). I argue that this work has failed to engage with the issue of responses to racism within the context of a society divided along sectarian lines. The discourses and practices of ethnically-identified minorities have also been absent from research which has used the theoretical framework of the politics of recognition to understand Northern Ireland. A lack of ethnographic engagement is also present in studies of anti-racism in Northern Ireland. This work has provided important historical detail but not produced empirical findings on Northern Irish anti-racism (McVeigh 2002). Finally, I look at research which has considered the emergence of a concern for multiculturalism in post-Agreement public policy. Here I suggest the importance of examining the institutional structures and practices through which multicultural policy is produced and enacted in Northern Ireland as part of my work on sectarianism and multiculturalism in the post-Agreement context. 2.2. Understanding Religious Difference This dissertation is not a study of religion, or even religiously defined difference, but the fact that multiculturalism in Northern Ireland emerges out of, and in the context of, a sectarian past draws this study into the orbit of recent thinking on religious difference in society. As such, it is important to try to understand more clearly both the politics of religion in diverse societies and the specific power of religion and sectarianism in 12 Northern Ireland. In the sections that follow, I argue that sectarianism in Northern Ireland is not simply a matter of religion. It encompasses more than just categorisations of religious difference in a diverse society, and so cannot be adequately accounted for by recent scholarship on religion in society. 2.2.1. Geographies of religion Modood (1998: 387) has argued that the multiculturalist politics of recognition, which will be explored in more detail in a later section (Section 2.3.2.), is guilty of a ‘theoretical neglect of the role of religion’. This is despite that fact that, as Kurien (2004: 367) notes, religion often acts as a carrier of ethnic identity in culturally diverse societies where it is often the case that ethnic ‘mobilization is accomplished by using religious organizations and symbols’. The acceptance of issues of religion and religious difference in Western states has created a situation that ‘[m]inorities are naturally tempted to take advantage of’ (Parekh 2000: 198). Consequently, many minority groups in society base their claims to cultural difference and particularity on religious grounds (Kurien 2004). Parekh (2000: 198) emphasises the ‘religionization of culture’; religion has acquired an increasingly ‘considerable influence over the development of the culture’ of ethnically- identified minorities, particularly immigrant groups, in society. Emerging geographies of religion have sought to provide more empirically grounded accounts of the role of religion in society. Although, as Kong (2001: 212) comments, in much human geography research ‘religion is forgotten or conflated with race’, there are signs that geographers are attending more closely to religion (see Hopkins 2007). For example, work has shown how British Muslim women forge their identities in the face of dominant media representations and societal narratives (Dwyer 1998). Hopkins (2004) demonstrates how discourses of ‘race’ and religion are often connected and overlapping in the lived experiences of young Muslim men in Scotland. As his work shows, young Muslim men who visibly appear to be Muslim, whether through skin colour, wearing a long beard or their dress, are far more likely to experience everyday racism and discrimination than those who are perceived as not ‘looking Muslim’. Such studies have illustrated how racialisation processes intersect with religious difference in 13 the everyday lives of many ethnically-identified minorities not generally classified in terms of the signifier ‘white’ (Alexander and Alleyne 2000). Although this literature has been important in terms of developing geographical perspectives on the role of religion in society, it has rarely been explicitly concerned with political processes attached to ideas of religious difference. It is this intersection of politics and religion that is crucial to understanding sectarianism in Northern Ireland. In this dissertation I argue that sectarianism in Northern Ireland is as much political as it is religious (Brewer 1992; Mitchell 2005), and, for this reason, sectarianism requires a quite distinct approach from that adopted in studies of the role of religion in diverse societies. 2.2.2. Existing perspectives on sectarianism in Northern Ireland The antagonistic relationship between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists in Northern Ireland is often understood as a product of ‘sectarianism’, but many analysts have failed to engage systematically with this concept, relying instead on imprecise lay definitions (McNair 2006). Consequently, as a topic of serious academic consideration sectarianism has largely been ignored and under-theorized (Leichty and Clegg 2001; McVeigh 1992; 1999). Sectarianism needs to be clearly defined in order to understand both its historical and contemporary agency in structuring social life in Northern Ireland. In general, sectarianism can be defined as a means of creating, and maintaining, boundaries between religiously-identified groups. Writing on the meaning of the term sectarianism, John Brewer (1992: 359) defines it as [t]he determination of actions, attitudes and practices by beliefs about religious difference, which results in their being invoked as a boundary marker to represent social stratification and conflict. In the specific context of the relationship between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists in Northern Ireland, sectarianism has been defined as: A complex set of problems — including dividing, demonising and dominating — which typically arise from malignant interactions of religion and politics and which are characteristic of the kind of 14 religiously-shaped ethno-national conflict experienced in Northern Ireland (Leichty and Clegg 2001: 37). To the extent that sectarianism in Northern Ireland is rooted in differences of theology and religious practice it seems plausible to understand the conflict in terms of geographies of religion. However, as the definitions above suggest, sectarianism in Northern Ireland is about much more than narrowly defined religious difference. Religion may be an important part of the everyday lives of many people, but the ‘[c]onflict in Northern Ireland has not been, is not and will never be holy war’ (Mitchell 2005: 1). The substance of the armed conflict was not religion as religion but the social, historical and political divisions which religion signified.5 Robbie McVeigh (1999: 17) describes the tendency to try and explain the Northern Irish conflict in terms of doctrinal difference as ‘the theological fallacy’. While sectarian blocs may be understood in terms of religious labels – Catholic and Protestant – the way they are formed and maintained ‘approximates much more closely to ethnicity than it does to religious belief’ (McVeigh 1999: 19). The political identification of Catholic/Nationalists with Ireland and that of Protestant/Unionists with Great Britain reflects deep-seated ethnic identification and conflictual histories and geographies, rather than simply religious persuasion per se. Jenkins (1986: 2) contends that ‘it is not religious systems which are in conflict, but their membership’; group identification rather than theology has played a defining role in the production and maintenance of division in Northern Ireland. Sectarianism, then, involves the complex interaction between religion and politics, and between theology and competing ethnic nationalisms, in which ideas about religious difference are used to infer political identities in Northern Ireland. The invocation of sectarian difference often leads to discrimination and negative feelings towards the sectarian ‘Other’ that can, in some cases, result in acts of violence. It is possible to discern three distinct levels at which sectarianism is manifest: at the level of ideas, as individual and collective action and as social structure (McNair 2006). At the level of ideas, it is characterised by stereotyping and negative feelings towards out-groups. As individual or collective action, sectarianism is expressed through harassment, including 5 The causes of the sectarian division in Northern Irish society are complex and are examined in Chapter Four. 15 verbal and/or physical abuse. At a structural level, it involves discrimination and bias in areas such as employment and in the creation and conduct of political institutions (Brewer 1992; Darby 1976; McVeigh and Rolston 2007; Whyte 1990). Certainly throughout the period of Unionist majority rule (1921-1972) the policies and practices of the Northern Irish state played a defining role in the (re)production of sectarianism (Murtagh and Keaveney 2006). As noted in the general definition of sectarianism provided above, religion in Northern Ireland represents a ‘boundary marker’ between the ‘two communities’ (Brewer 1992; Mitchell 2005). Boundaries are integral to the symbolic construction of communities that, although reflective of abstract social divisions, need to be marked in and through space (Barth 1969; Cohen 1985; Sack 1986). Residential segregation along sectarian lines is a dominant feature of social life in Northern Ireland, and many communities are physically separated from one another, sometimes by high metal fences that are euphemistically known as ‘peacewalls’ (Boal 2002; Boal and Douglas 1982; Compton and Power 1986; Poole 1983). These material boundaries between communities are often maintained through visual features in the landscape such as wall murals and kerb painting. As well as constructing physical boundaries, this visual culture also reflects sectarian constructions of identity, place and claims to space at a variety of scales (Coulter 1999; Jarman 1995; 1997; Rolston 2003a; 2003b). The relationship between specific forms of visual culture and the (re)production of sectarianism is developed further in Chapter Seven which examines the production of anti-racist messages in West Belfast through media such as murals, posters and pamphlets. The role of political institutions and their practices in the (re)production of sectarian identities in everyday life in Northern Ireland before, during and after ‘the Troubles’ has been observed (Darby 1976; McVeigh and Rolston 2007; O’Dowd, Rolston and Tomlinson 1980). One of the goals of the Agreement was to provide a new institutional structure that could overcome sectarian divisions (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). However, the resilience of sectarianism in the Agreement and its governing structures has been noted (Graham and Nash 2006; Little 2003). As will be discussed further in Section 2.4.4, empirical research has seldom attended to the specifics of the new, post- 16 Agreement institutional milieu. This absence is partly addressed in my examination of the public policy and institutional frameworks of multiculturalism in Chapter Five. Work on performativity, both in geography and elsewhere, appears to offer a challenge to traditional scholarship on the construction and maintenance of sectarian boundaries in Northern Ireland. This scholarship has highlighted the way in which identities are made and re-made through embodied social practice (Nash 2000; Thrift 1999). Often drawing on the writing of Judith Butler (1990; 1993), this research argues that identity is not pre- given, but rather is constituted through sets of practices or performances that become routinised over time. In the Northern Ireland context, for example, political parades, especially Orange Marches, have been interpreted as pivotal performative acts through which sectarian identities and behaviours are constructed and naturalised in social space (Jarman 1997).6 For both Bryan (2000) and Jarman (1997) parades represent a unique form of embodied geography, the goal of which is both to perform sectarian identities and to reaffirm sectarian boundaries in space. David Cairns (2000) illustrates how everyday practices such as songs, dances and sport all provide opportunities for the performance of sectarian identities. Pieces of visual and material culture, such as flags and murals, but also less obviously politicised objects such as a photograph of a family member in army uniform, are all shown to be integral to the formation of Loyalist identity (Cairns 2000). Ogaswara (2003: 11), in a study of Glasgow Rangers versus Celtic football matches, attends to the role of both ‘performative utterances’, such as chanting, and material objects, such as jerseys or national flags, in the (re)production of sectarianism. While much of the scholarship reviewed thus far has focused on how sectarianism is materially produced through embodied social practice, the notion of performativity also suggests that identity is fluid, and that alternative, less divisive, constructions can be performed. As Catherine Nash (2000: 655) optimistically argues, conceiving of identity as performative ‘at least allows the possibility of challenging and parodying … naturalised codes’. Challenging sectarianism, then, is not just a matter of changing the 6 The vast majority of parades (over 80%) are Loyalist Orange Marches, and the ritualistic nature of these public displays plays a particularly powerful role in the (re)production of Ulster Loyalist political identities (Cairns 2001). For a detailed discussion on Orange Parades, see Bryan (2000). 17 social environment, but also of altering those embodied practices through which divisive sectarian constructions of identity are (re)produced. In my study I pay particular attention to those points at which multicultural agendas and practices might be leading to changes in the performance of sectarianism in Northern Irish society. Northern Ireland has changed dramatically over the course of the last decade. Yet, although it has witnessed major social, economic and political transitions (which will be discussed in Chapter Four), studies of post-Agreement Northern Ireland have been forced to come to terms with Cairns’ (2000: 438) contention that: [d]espite the advent of ‘the Peace Process’ and possibly a permanent end to the paramilitary conflict … the bulk of sectarianism is to be found in everyday life practices, and not in the armed struggle itself. He goes on to suggest that because of this ‘the basic problem will remain untouched irrespective of political settlement’. For Cairns, sectarianism should be understood as a set of social practices that (re)produce malignant, sectarian ways of seeing and knowing the world. This approach to conceptualising sectarianism is also evident in Peter Shirlow’s (2003) work on residential segregation in the ‘two Ardoynes’; the predominantly Catholic Ardoyne and the predominantly Protestant Upper Ardoyne. Shirlow approaches sectarianism as a discursive formation; an ‘articulatory process that enshrines spatial segregation’, and makes ‘truth’ claims based on sectarian readings of space, belonging and identity (Shirlow 2003: 86). The fear of the sectarian ‘Other’ produced by this system of knowing the world was found to limit the mobility of people in the ‘two Ardoynes’. Sectarian division has not gone away. Instead, it continues to structure the ‘lifeworlds’ and lived geographies of many in Northern Ireland, despite the political advance of the peace process and the Agreement (Morrissey and Smyth 2002; Murtagh and Keaveney 2006; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). Understanding sectarianism not as a product of theological difference or even of political violence, but as constituted by embedded sets of discourses and social practices is very useful in terms of this dissertation. It provides my research with a theoretical frame for understanding the persistence of sectarian ways of thinking and being in the very processes and 18 institutional structures created to move society beyond sectarianism, and through which multicultural agendas are being operationalised in contemporary Northern Ireland. 2.3. Approaches to Understanding Multiculturalism Having reviewed literature on sectarianism in Northern Ireland, the following sections identify and engage with key themes and approaches to understanding multiculturalism. Bhikhu Parkeh (2000) defines multiculturalism as a response to the presence of cultural diversity, itself an outcome of the migration processes common to many contemporary Western societies. Multiculturalism refers to the broad set of inclusionary principles and practices that are manifested in diverse societies (Kymlicka 1995; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994; Vasta 2007; Vertovec 1996; 2007a). Given the range of meanings attached to the term, multiculturalism has been described as a ‘fuzzy concept’ that is in an on-going and contested process of conceptualisation (Grillo 2007: 981). Stuart Hall’s (2000: 210) distinction between ‘multicultural’, an adjective which refers to the social make up of culturally diverse societies, and ‘multiculturalism’, the different strategies and policies which attempt to fix the meaning of this diversity, provides a useful road map for navigating a way through this ‘fuzziness’. In line with Hall’s distinction, Grillo (2007: 987) suggests that ‘multiculturalism is best understood as a political project, involving strategies, institutions, discourses, practices, seeking to address multicultural reality.’ This understanding of multiculturalism as a multiplicity of attempts to fix the meaning of cultural diversity is adopted in my research. The utility of this approach is that it allows my work to explore a number of different multicultural agendas that have emerged in Northern Ireland as it is trying to move beyond the sectarian division which characterised so much of its past, both distant and recent. Multiculturalism seeks to address the multicultural reality of contemporary societies in ‘many possibly related, but nevertheless discrete’ ways (Vertovec 2007a: 966). Steven Vertovec (1996: 50) outlines a number of ways that multiculturalism can be understood and operationalised. First, multiculturalism refers to a basic demographic description of society such that ‘the sheer presence of x number of immigrants from countries 1, 2 and 3 (is) offered as evidence of cultural diversity’. The existence of processes of racism and 19 racialisation can be understood, in part, as a feature of this ‘demographic multiculturalism’ (Kobayashi 1993: 212). Although racism is an ideology which can be present even in the absence of racialised ‘Others’, as migration to Western societies has increased so too have incidents of racism and ‘racial’ discrimination (Abbas 2005). Secondly, multiculturalism refers to the recognition of cultural diversity (Vasta 2007); often through the multicultural politics of recognition (Kymlicka 1995; 2001; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994). This often encompasses both a ‘vague vision of how society, with its minorities, should function’ and celebrations of the ‘exotic otherness’ of these minorities (Vertovec 1996: 50). Thirdly, a subset of multiculturalism that is particularly relevant to my research is anti-racism. Anti-racism often envisages alternative social and political visions for multicultural societies (Anthias and Lloyd 2002; Bonnett 2000). Finally, multiculturalism can be approached as both ‘public policy aimed at minorities, including the promotion of equal opportunity’ and the institutional structures within which policy is produced and delivered (Vertovec 1996: 50; Wood and Gilbert 2005). These four ways that the meaning of multiculturalism is fixed in contemporary societies provide the framework used to approach and understand emergent multicultural agendas in my research, and structure the material that is reviewed in the sections that follow. 2.3.1. Demographic multiculturalism and racism in multicultural societies The existence of cultural diversity in society, and of multicultural societies themselves, can hardly be regarded as a recent phenomenon. ‘Movement and migration’, as Stuart Hall (2000: 212) notes, ‘are the defining conditions of humanity.’ Certainly the history of civilisation has been characterised by the migration of people for a variety of reasons; from famine and natural disasters to colonisation and conquest. However, there is a valid argument to be made that increased ‘demographic social diversity’ (Wood and Gilbert 2005: 684) makes contemporary societies quite distinct from their historical antecedents. The notion of ‘demographic multiculturalism’ refers simply to the existence of cultural diversity in society (Kobayashi 1993: 212). The very fact of demographic multiculturalism has thrown up socio-political questions and issues that are both novel and complex (Cohen 1999; Parekh 2000: 34; Wievorka 1998). According to Tahir Abbas (2005: 155), ‘multicultural societies in their current form are new to our age and 20 give rise to theoretical and political problems which have no parallel in history.’ My work is set within the particular context of a post-conflict Northern Ireland that is experiencing net in-migration (Jarman 2006), and in which issues of cultural diversity and demographic multiculturalism are beginning to emerge as prominent concerns. Societies that are characterised by demographic social diversity must contend with the issue of ‘race’ relations and the existence of racism (Banton 1967; 2005a; 2005b; Kobayashi 1993; Rex 1983). The post-World War II years witnessed increased migration to Western cities from former colonies, and this often led to violent clashes between the local white community and new migrants (Solomos 2003). Against this backdrop, the ‘Sociology of Race Relations’ emerged to try to understand ‘race’ relations in diverse societies (Banton 1967; Rex 1983). Michael Banton (2005a: 487), a leading figure in this movement, defines ‘race’ relations as ‘a general name comprehending prejudice (the dimension of attitude), discrimination (the dimension of behaviour) and racism (the dimension of ideology).’ This description of ‘race’ relations is strikingly similar to McNair’s (2006) understanding of sectarianism (Section 2.2.2.), and it has become increasingly common to approach sectarianism as a subset of racism (McVeigh and Rolston 2007). While I interrogate the relationship between sectarianism and racism in more detail later in this chapter (see Section 2.4.1.), it is worth noting here that in my work I do not treat sectarianism and racism as identical processes. Although the presence of cultural diversity in contemporary societies is often conceived of in terms of ‘race’, the precise meaning of this term has been a subject of much debate (Malik 1996). As my work engages with issues of ‘race’ and racism in the context of contemporary Northern Ireland, it is important to outline briefly the changing meaning of ‘race’ and the understanding of ‘race’ and racism that I adopt in my work. Unlike biological approaches to understanding ‘race’, sociologists of ‘race’ relations treated ‘the concept of race and the problem of racism (as) primarily a problem for social science’ (Rex 1983: 2). As a consequence of this shift in thinking, ‘race’ is no longer treated as a concrete thing, but as a ‘social classification based on physical distinctions of skin- colour, hair type and biological descent’ (Jackson and Penrose 1993: 4). ‘Race’, as Peter Wade (2004: 159) argues ‘is an idea’. Yet even ‘if race has absolutely no biological 21 basis in human nature, people are clearly prepared to discriminate against others they define as racially distinct’. Consequently, in the present day, the idea of ‘race’ and of ‘racial’ difference ‘remains a nexus of power and ideology’ (Wright, Houston, Ellis, Holloway and Hudson 2003: 470). In this way the social construction ‘race’, which is based on false assumptions about the significance of physical features, continues to have symbolic and material effect (Bulmer and Solomos 1998; Jackson 1987; 1989; 1994a; Malik 1996). In line with the determination that ‘racial’ difference is neither given nor essential, academic attention has turned to processes of racialisation (Jackson and Penrose 1993; Murji and Solomos 2005). The idea of ‘racialisation’ was introduced and developed by Robert Miles (1982; 1989; 1993; 2000). Miles (1989) argues that critical social science must not accept the putative social reality of ‘race’ as to speak of ‘race’ reifies a pernicious and dangerous social construct. As such, the use of the term “race relations” as an analytical framework can be seen to disguise the social construction of difference and to reproduce the idea that society is made up of discrete ‘races’ (Bonnett 1996; Miles 2000). Racialisation brings into view the processes of categorisation, signification and meaning construction by which populations are turned into racialised categories (Miles 1992; Mullings 2005). It shows that through these processes fluid, contextual categories of difference based on biological signifiers are essentialised and naturalised (Silverstein 2005; Wodak and Reisigl 1999). Thus, thinking about ‘race’ in terms of racialisation highlights the social processes by which the category is used to construct social groups (Jackson and Penrose 1993; Miles 1989; 1992; Peake and Schein 2000). The racialisation of social groups in Northern Ireland is a theme that is developed at various junctures in this dissertation, but particularly in Chapter Six. While contemporary societies are characterised by their multicultural make-up, the extensive literature on racism in Western nation-states has highlighted the fact that this diversity may be resisted through processes of racism and racialisation (Back 1996; Back and Solomos 2000; Essed 1991). Although racism is a commonly used word in both academic and non-academic discourses, it is important to be clear on the sense in which it is used in my work. Broadly understood, racism is a relationship of power, a 22 process ‘whereby social groups categorize other groups as different or inferior on the basis of phenotypical characteristics, cultural markers of national origin’ (Castles 1996: 31; cited in Vasta 2007: 728). In discussing racism in the Northern Ireland context, I conceptualise racism as ‘the assumption, consciously or unconsciously held, that people can be divided into a distinct number of discrete ‘races’ according to physical, biological criteria and that systematic social differences automatically and inevitably follow the same lines of physical differentiation’ (Jackson 1994a: 132-133). In my work racism is approached not a single, static phenomena but as a social process that may take a number of forms; from racist attitudes to discriminatory behaviour and even racialised violence against those groups categorised as ‘racially’ ‘Other’ (Banton 2005b). Although issues of ‘race’ and racism in Northern Ireland are prominent throughout my research, they are particularly salient in Chapter Six, which examines the relationship between sectarianism and responses to the increased incidence of racism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. 2.3.2. The politics of recognition A common attribute of much of the literature on multiculturalism in liberal-democratic societies has been a commitment to what has been dubbed ‘the politics of recognition’ (Kymlikca 1995; 2001; Modood 1998; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994). The central tenet of the multicultural politics of recognition is that culturally defined groups possess distinctive identities that they seek to have recognised in the public sphere (Kymlicka 2001; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994). This position is most fully and famously explicated in the work of the political philosopher Charles Taylor. Arguing that Kantian liberalism ignores the fundamentally dialogical character of human life, Taylor (1994) proposes that identity is a product of an individual’s relations with significant others. Individuals struggle for the recognition of both their personal identity and the identity of the groups that they are members of (Taylor 1989). For Taylor (1994: 75), the contemporary politics of multiculturalism arises directly out of the demand for recognition of the latter identities articulated ‘on behalf of minority or “subaltern” groups’ in society. This desire for recognition is not, Taylor (1994: 76) argues, ‘a courtesy we owe people. It is a vital human need.’ Refusal to recognise difference or plurality (or alternatively to mis- 23 recognise this difference) is a powerful form of symbolic violence inflicted on those groups and individuals that hold a given identity. Although the ‘politics of recognition’ is often taken to be synonymous with multiculturalism (for example, Lentin 2001), it has been noted that a wide range of different groups or movements in society demand recognition for their views and identities (e.g. women, gay men, lesbians, indigenous peoples, etc). Reflecting on this issue, Parekh (2000) helpfully distinguishes between groups whose claim for recognition is grounded in ‘cultural difference’, defined in terms of putative ethnic or ‘racial’ identities, and those who demand recognition on the basis of ‘subcultural diversity’. Given the diversity of groups seeking recognition, Parekh (2000: 3) suggests that ‘although part of the politics of recognition, multiculturalism is a distinct movement’ that refers only to cultural diversity or culturally-derived difference. Parekh conceives of society as constituted by a number of different cultures which operate on their own principles and conceptions of the good life.7 In order to accommodate the cultural rights of everyone in society, Parekh proposes that specific laws and institutions should be created for each cultural group. While Parekh’s approach appears attractive for the organisation of diverse societies, I would argue that it has both philosophical and practical limitations. Attributing rights to culturally-defined groups risks reifying culture (Schaap 2004) and undermines the rights of the individual (Barry 2001). Commenting on the potential for using Parekh’s work as a basis for organising group relations in post-Agreement Northern Ireland, Adrian Little (2003) argues that the resources required to create separate institutions would be immense, and the existence of such institutions might dissuade groups from seeking to resolve their differences through political compromise. 7 While Parekh places a heavy stress on the embeddedness of individuals in their own culture, he also argues that cultures are not monolithic. Instead, he proposes that every culture is internally plural and diverse; society is made up of a diversity of cultures which are in themselves diverse and fluid. The tension between this argument and his position that specific laws and institutions be set up for each cultural group is obvious, and has been highlighted in critique’s of Parekh’s work (Barry 2001; Little 2003). Although Parekh (2000) argues that cultures are capable of containing internal dissent and plurality while maintaining a degree of unity such that they can be recognised as distinct, how this apparent contradiction is either theoretically justifiable or can be achieved in practice is not clear in his writings. 24 The politics of recognition constructs society as made up of distinct cultural groups that are either self-defined or defined by others in terms of axes of identity such as ethnicity and ‘race’ (Parekh 2000). However, this process of categorising groups as separate contributes to the ethnicisation and racialisation of society (Miles 1993).8 Some writers, most notably Nancy Fraser (1998: 20), have also argued that the multicultural politics of recognition has led to the replacement of class with identity ‘as the chief medium of political mobilization’ in contemporary societies. Fraser argues that the focus on recognition has unhelpfully shifted attention away from a Marxist politics of economic and material redistribution of wealth and resources and towards a cultural politics based on identity and difference. For Axel Honneth (2001: 54), and contrary to Nancy Fraser’s assumptions, ‘struggles over distribution … are themselves locked into a struggle for recognition … a struggle over the cultural definition of what it is that renders an activity socially necessary and valuable.’ Honneth’s struggle, however, is often more rhetorical than practical, and a concern for issues of social justice may often be lost in the clamour for recognition (Abbas 2005; Craig 2007). The multicultural politics of recognition has also been criticised as an attempt to manage diversity through ‘perverse mechanisms of political representation and public incorporation’ (Uitermark, Rossi and van Houtum 2005: 624). Multiculturalism has been accused of being little more than a government driven effort aimed at institutionalising cultural diversity for the purpose of controlling potentially threatening marginalised groups (Vertovec 1996). Parekh’s (2000) account of multiculturalism relies on the assumption that fluid institutions can be set up which are capable of responding to changes within cultural groups. However, the institutionalisation of cultural diversity often leads ‘to the formation of an elite of ethnic leaders who pretend to represent their respective communities’ (Uitermark, Rossi and van Houtum 2005: 624). In an analysis of the interaction between local government and Muslims in the city of Leicester, Steven Vertovec (1996) suggests that attempts to manage diversity through processes of public incorporation are often doomed to failure. Instead of relying solely on unelected ‘voices 8 A good example of this process from my research project is the specific designation of Travellers as a ‘racial’ group in the Race Relations (NI) Act 1997. While the inclusion of Travellers as a ‘racial’ group within this legislation was a response to discrimination faced by Travellers, this inclusion also contributes to the racialisation of this group through the process of recognition. 25 of the community’, new modes of interaction based on public forums and community participation are required (Vertovec 1996). A postcolonial perspective has generated another line of criticism of the politics of recognition. In asking who controls the process of recognition, Hesse (2000) argues that unresolved historical antagonisms and social and political inequalities are often ignored by multiculturalism. The terms by which a minority or subaltern group may be recognised as legitimate within multicultural states are usually dictated by the dominant society. This has meant that minority cultures are often forced to mobilise outmoded or obsolete ways of being in order to garner recognition. This point is deftly made in Elizabeth Povenilli’s (2002: 4) discussion of the ‘cunning of legal recognition’. Drawing on the example of contemporary Australian efforts to recognise indigenous interests and traditions, her research demonstrates how celebratory, multicultural discourses of diversity are used to by-pass the more difficult to resolve and historically embedded racisms bequeathed by colonial settlement. Povenilli’s work has specific relevance to the Northern Ireland context where new constructions of Northern Ireland co-exist with, and must negotiate, an ingrained, colonially-linked sectarian inheritance. Although open to many of the above criticisms, the work of Will Kymlicka (1995; 2001) has provided important contributions to the debate on the multicultural politics of recognition in liberal-democratic states. Central to Kymlicka’s analysis is the distinction drawn between ‘national minorities’ and ‘immigrants’ (Kymlicka and Norman 2000: 29). National minorities are established groups who were present prior to the foundation of the state, share a common culture and language and possess a prior history of self- government (Kymlicka 1995). Kymlicka argues for the adoption of specific rights and institutions for groups that fit these criteria. He proposes that this takes place alongside the integration of new migrant groups (which he terms ‘immigrants’) (Kymlicka 2001). The distinction between national minorities and immigrants is particularly useful for conceptualising contemporary Northern Ireland. Although the consociational political model adopted in the Agreement focuses on power-sharing rather than institutional separation, Kymlicka’s belief in the public recognition of national minorities has 26 influenced debates in Northern Ireland (Little 2003: 27).9 On the issue of immigrant multiculturalism, Kymlicka (2001: 165), unlike Parekh (2000), proposes that the recognition of these cultures must take place within the ‘common institutions’ of the state. Critiquing the argument that recognition leads to balkanisation (Barry 2001), Kymlicka (2001) argues that immigrant multiculturalism has little to do with state building and is unable to provide the public institutions needed to create a separate societal and legislative culture. Instead, immigrant multiculturalism leads to the pluralisation of society; which he sees as a particularly positive development in states with strong national minorities. Kymlicka’s notion of immigrant multiculturalism suggests the possibility that multicultural agendas could temper sectarianism as Northern Irish society becomes more culturally diverse and plural in the wake of new migration. This possibility is explored further in my research. As well as setting out a theoretical framework for recognition in liberal-democratic states, Kymlicka suggests that ‘to understand the meaning of multiculturalism … we need to look at what it does in practice’ (1998: 40; cited in Gilbert and Wood 2005: 685). The multicultural politics of recognition is manifested in a variety of ways, most notably in cities and, in particular, their public spaces (Grillo 2007; Uitermark, Rossi and van Houtum 2005). As Wood and Gilbert (2005: 685) note, ‘[b]ecause of the specifics of its landscape, the urban … is a significant scale of negotiation of cultures, knowledges, and powers between immigrants, members of cultural groups, and dominant groups’. Ethnically-identified minorities produce and reproduce themselves socially, spatially, and politically in the spaces of the city through ‘cultural work … embedded in cultural technologies and underpinned aesthetically’ (Werbner 2000: 8). This ‘cultural work’ ranges from involvement in community groups and processes of public incorporation (Vertovec 1996), through to ‘popular cultural celebrations, national commemorations and street carnivals’ (Werbner 2000: 8). Although Ghassam Hage (2000) argues that the latter practices are primarily concerned with the management and appropriation of diversity rather than its recognition, much research has focused on festivals as practices of recognition (Duffy 2005; Jackson 1988; 1992; Mitchell 2004). 9 Consociationalism is a form of government involving guaranteed group representation which is often suggested for managing conflict in deeply divided societies such as Northern Ireland (Graham and Nash 2006; Lijphart 1977; 2004). 27 Similar to Michelle Duffy (2005) and Peter Jackson (1988; 1992), I conceive of festivals as sites in which commitments to a multicultural society are expressed publicly in the urban spaces of contemporary societies. While both of these authors looked at festivals in countries with a relatively long ‘multicultural’ history (Australia in the case of Duffy and England and Canada in Jackson’s work), in Chapter Six I investigate particular multicultural events in Belfast; a city divided along sectarian lines. Although my work follows that of Duffy and Jackson in thinking about the articulation and expression of multicultural agendas and identities in such festivals, in keeping with the overall goals of my research it also pays particular attention to the impact of sectarian considerations on the practice of these festivals. 2.3.3. Approaches to understanding anti-racism Another framework through which the governing of cultural diversity can take place in multicultural societies is anti-racism. Anti-racism has many meanings; Alastair Bonnett (2000: 4-6) delineates six different types of anti-racism. These range from anti-racist sentiment expressed in music and popular culture, through to anti-fascist movements and radical critiques of capitalism. The breadth of Bonnett’s typology highlights the fact that there is no universal shared understanding of what anti-racism is, either at the level of political philosophy or of political action (Lentin 2004; Solomos and Back 1996). Consequently, it is not surprising that there are a wide diversity of ideas and organisations in contemporary society that are described as ‘anti-racist’ (Detant 2005; Lentin 2004; Lloyd 1998; 2002). The tendency to define anti-racism quite simply as the opposite of racism (Blaumer 1995) has been criticised as it takes ‘anti-racism for granted and subordinate(s) it to racism, which means that in theorizing racism, anti-racism has been eclipsed’ (Lloyd 2002: 60). Lloyd argues that anti-racism is a social movement with its own internal logic and power and that it should not be ‘consigned to the status of a ‘cause’, fit only for platitudes of support or denouncement’ (Bonnett 2000: 2). Instead, Lloyd (1998: 4) proposes that anti-racism be conceived of as an ‘alternative interpretation of political discourse.’ This conception of anti-racism combines a response to the presence of racism 28 and racialisation in multicultural societies with a wider social vision. This interpretation is developed further in Anthias and Lloyd’s (2002: 16) definition of anti-racism as ‘a set of polycentric, overlapping discourses and practices which combine a response to racism(s) with the construction of a positive project about the kind of society in which people can live together in harmony and mutual respect.’ This definition recognises the diversity of anti-racisms, their emergence in response to racism and the centrality of alternative social visions based on progressive principles (such as social justice and equality) to many anti-racist campaigns. As it encompasses all the key features of anti- racism identified in the literature, this definition is adopted in my research. The relationship between anti-racism and multiculturalism in the academic literature has shifted considerably over the course of the last thirty years. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s the terms were placed firmly in opposition to one another (Gilroy 1987; Vertovec 1996). Anti-racism was viewed as a radical critique of state and society and multiculturalism as a government sponsored attempt to promote some vague notion of ‘cultural empowerment’ (Anthias and Yuval-Davis 1992: 184). Bonnett (1993) explicitly differentiated between educators holding multiculturalist views and those supporting anti-racism. In his research, Bonnett (1993: 33) defines multiculturalism as ‘the mode of representation of cultural difference and inclusivity’, and anti-racism as ‘speaking for Black resistance against White racism.’ Recently, however, the rigidity of this distinction has been challenged. Anthias and Lloyd (2002) suggest that the binary constructed between anti-racism and multiculturalism is both untenable and unhelpful. In a later book on anti-racism, Bonnett (2000: 4) himself includes ‘multicultural anti- racism’ in his definition of anti-racist praxis. In line with these interventions, my work approaches anti-racism as a sub-field of multiculturalism that emerges in response to the existence of racism in multicultural societies. Although anti-racism appears to be an obvious social good, anti-racist objectives and strategies have been critiqued over the last two decades. Reactions from both left and right in the 1980s precipitated a crisis in the movement and the development of ‘anti- anti-racism’ (Bonnett 1993; Gilroy 2001). Paul Gilroy (1998; 2001) argued that the most deleterious aspect of anti-racism, and the motive for calling for the ‘End of Anti-racism’, 29 is that it is often based on a culturalist understanding of ‘racial’ difference. Following a similar argument to Gilroy, Taguieff (2001) suggested that in the process of essentialising racists as barbarians anti-racists are themselves engaged in an act of exclusion and dehumanization. Elsewhere, Tariq Modood (1988: 400) criticised what he perceived to be the suppression of Asian (particularly Muslim) identity within the ‘monolithic Black subject’ of anti-racism. Despite these critiques, Gilroy (2001: 251) does suggest that there is a place for anti-racism, provided it is a ‘much more limited project, defined simply, even simplistically, by the desire to do away with racism.’10 Another criticism levelled at anti-racism has focused on its assumptions, specifically the relationship between universalism and relativism. Wievorka (1997: 147) refers to universalism and relativism as ‘the two great orientations of anti-racism’, and the tension between them as ‘the structural problem which constantly undermines anti-racist action.’ Bonnett (2000: 19) also worries about universalism, defining it as ‘the assertion of the validity, across cultures or historical periods, of certain values, truths and processes.’ According to Bonnett, within anti-racist discourse universalist assumptions are ‘often associated with the conviction that people are all equally part of humanity and should be accorded the same rights and opportunities.’ Relativism, in contrast, refers to the ‘idea that cultural and/or physical differences between races should be recognised and respected’ (Bonnett 2000: 13). Relativism is most closely implicated in the reification of the concept of ‘race’, a process which is inherently problematic (Gilroy 1998). Rather than allow this debate to undermine anti-racist praxis, Michel Wievorka (1997: 149) suggests that ‘rational anti-racism has no choice’ but to accept the tensions and contradictions between these two positions. The foundations of anti-racism may have been critiqued, but it remains a powerful mobilising force in contemporary societies (Lloyd 2002). Recent research has attended to anti-racist practice at a variety of sites, from the ideological constructions employed by anti-racist educators in the UK (Bonnett 1993) and Canada (Bonnett and Carrington 1996), through to grassroots anti-racist movements (Detant 2005; Lentin 2004; Lloyd 10 Within the discipline of geography, such an anti-racist project might involve teaching which seeks to unsettle essentialised notions of racial difference (Nash 2003; Peake and Kobayashi 2002) and an active engagement with racism in the classroom (Kobayashi and Peake 2000). 30 1998; 2002). This latter literature is particularly useful in terms of my research as it has focused primarily on the discourses of anti-racist activists and campaigns. Alana Lentin (2004), in arguably the most comprehensive study of anti-racism in Europe, examined the orientations and motivations of anti-racist activists in Britain, Italy, France and Ireland. Lentin found that anti-racist groups reflected the political culture of the nation- state in which they were located. In terms of my own research, Lentin’s work suggests that the discourses of Northern Irish anti-racists should be influenced by the specific political culture within this context. Anja Detant (2005) looked at the discourses and strategies of the Hand in Hand anti-racism campaign that emerged in Belgium following the electoral success of the far-right. In particular, she focused on their use of demonstrations and public events to mobilise popular support. Elsewhere, Cathie Lloyd (1998; 2002) conducted empirical research on the discourses of anti-racist social movements in France. These studies all suggest the need for empirical research on anti- racism within the context of multicultural societies. Research on anti-racism has also focused on the visual representations produced in anti-racist campaigns (Gilroy 1987; Murji 2006). My research builds on this work on contemporary anti-racism by looking at anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast, focusing in particular on the extent to which sectarian narratives and identities are (re)produced in the discourses and representations of anti-racist groups active in this area (see Chapter Seven). 2.3.4. Reviewing UK multicultural policy Multiculturalism can also be understood as the policy and institutional practices through which the state ‘formally recognise(s) and reflects publicly the differentiated social needs and growing cultural diversity of its citizens’ (Hall 2000: 231; Vertovec 1996; Wood and Gilbert 2005). In general, multicultural policy is formulated to prevent social conflict by both upholding the value of diversity and promoting rights of equality of opportunity (Kobayashi 1993: 214; Vertovec 1996: 50). The enactment of this social policy also produces ‘distinctive institutional arrangements designed to benefit, or called for by, specific minority groups’ (Vertovec 1996: 50). There is no one single policy called multiculturalism. Instead, different national contexts (for example, United Kingdom (UK), Canada and Australia) display distinctive approaches and institutional 31 frameworks (Craig 2007; Wood and Gilbert 2005). As my research is concerned with a constituent region of the UK (Northern Ireland), this section focuses on multicultural policy in Britain.11 This research review also highlights the importance of looking at the institutions that multicultural policy is produced and enacted within. Although the history of Britain has been characterised by immigration, in particular of the Irish in the nineteenth century and the Jews in the early twentieth century, ‘it was the post-war large-scale immigration of African-Caribbean and South Asian (i.e. non-White) peoples which particularly prompted a set of changes in public policy’ (Vertovec 2007b: 1027). Policy in the 1950s and 1960s was characterised by what Kymlicka (2001: 153) refers to as the ‘Anglo-conformity’ model of assimilation that was based on the belief that if taught the English language ‘the immigrant population would learn “to become like us”’ (Abbas 2005: 158). With the recognition, in the late 1960s, that this policy was failing, ‘British policy-makers responded with various strategies for a kind of diversity management strategy that came to be called multiculturalism’ (Vertovec 2007b: 1027). Integration replaced assimilation as the key word in policy discourses. There was an increased recognition of rights to difference in areas such as language, religion and family life and the need for provision of funding for ethnically-identified minorities (Grillo 2007). From this time, multicultural policy in Britain moved into what Kobayashi (1993: 215) refers to as the ‘symbolic stage’. This is conceived of as an official policy that recognises and promotes diversity, though without a firm conception of the overall objectives of such a policy. A key plank of multicultural policy that emerged in the 1960s was the recognition that ‘negative discrimination on racial and other grounds should not be tolerated’ (Grillo 2007: 980). This government concern with ‘racial’ discrimination emerged in response to racist attacks against British subjects who had migrated to England from the Caribbean (Banton 1967; Miles 2000; Solomos 2003). The Race Relations Acts (1965 and 1968) banned discrimination on grounds of colour, race or ethnicity at the same time 11 I use Britain here as the term refers to England, Scotland and Wales without Northern Ireland. The term United Kingdom refers to all four constituent regions. I examine multicultural policy in ‘Britain’ (as opposed to the UK) in this section because (as will be shown in Chapter Five) these policies did not extend to Northern Ireland. 32 as promoting equality of opportunity (Phizacklea and Miles 1980; Solomos 2003: 80). These Acts had limited success (Lester 1998) and were replaced by the more far- reaching Race Relations Act (1976). This Act introduced the dual concepts of direct and indirect discrimination and set up a new Commission for Racial Equality (CRE). Since the 1965 Act, ‘race’ relations legislation has remained an integral part of broader British multicultural policy. As Pina Werbner (2003: 52) notes, multiculturalism ‘probably has more critics than defenders’, and this has often been true of British multicultural policy. From the 1970s on, the focus on cultural difference in policy was rejected by many ethnically-identified minorities ‘who deeply resented its implicit paternalism’ (Abbas 2005: 158). Through its complex institutional practices, ‘race’ relations legislation tended to create a ‘race relations industry’ which was both self-serving and failed to address issues of institutional racism (Anthias and Yuval-Davis 1992; Gilroy 1987). The definition of ‘race’ used in the Race Relations Act has also been accused of essentialising socially constructed groups (Malik 1996; Miles and Torres 1996) and even contributing to racism (Gilroy 2001).12 Arguably the harshest critics of multiculturalism in Britain during the late 1970s and 1980s were to be found in the Conservative Party that held power throughout this period (Bonnett 1993). Under the Conservatives, multicultural policy underwent a period of stasis. As John Solomos (2003) notes, this administration refused to strengthen ‘race’ relations legislation or to allocate further resources to equality bodies. This situation led to conflicts between central government and ‘racial’ equality institutions in many Labour-dominated local governments (see Anthias and Yuval-Davis 1992; Gilroy 1987). In 1997, following its election triumph, ‘New Labour was keen to embrace Britain’s multicultural and ethnically diverse mix of people’ (Abbas 2005: 158). The Human Rights Act, the Macpherson Report (1999) and the Race Relations (Amendment) Act (2000) were all important developments in multicultural policy (Abbas 2005). In the twenty-first century, community cohesion has appeared as a new agenda in British 12 The Race Relations Act (1976) defines a ‘racial group’ as a ‘group of persons defined by reference to colour, race, nationality or ethnic or national origins’. 33 multicultural policy (Abbas 2005; Cantle 2001; Grillo 2007). Community cohesion calls for a ‘type of multi-culturalism in which everyone supports the values and laws of the nation, whilst keeping hold of their cultural identity’ (The Community Cohesion Panel Final Report 2004: 8; cited in Grillo 2007: 989). As such, contemporary multicultural policy in the UK is based on the twin strategy of promoting ‘racial’ equality through ‘race’ relations legislation and community cohesion through the fostering of a common sense of identity and the celebration of cultural diversity (Grillo 2007: 990). Although increasingly popular in government circles, elements of this ‘twin strategy’ are deeply problematic. The notion of ‘community’ cohesion appears to essentialise and reify the putative culture and identity of socially constructed ‘communities’, and the strategy has even been accused of masking the re-appearance of an assimilationist agenda in UK multicultural policy (Worley 2005). Multicultural policy is grounded in specific institutional arrangements, but there has been very little research on ‘the institutional implications’ of multiculturalism (Uitermark, Rossi and Van Houtum 2005: 622). Some studies of multicultural policy in Britain have focused on government policy and institutions. Ben-Tovim, Gabriel, Law and Stredder (1992) examined ‘race’ relations policy and practice in local government in the UK through ethnographic research conducted in ‘racial’ equality units in Liverpool and Wolverhampton. This research specifically highlighted the ‘integral role of organizations and policies’ in the struggle for ‘racial’ equality (Ben-Tovim et al . 1992: 207). Similarly, Anthias and Yuval-Davis (1992) conducted ethnographic research on equal opportunities institutions in a London borough during the 1980s. This study focused on the discourses and practices, as well as the institutional structures, of a ‘racial’ equality unit to draw out the complexities and tensions between equal opportunities and cultural diversity in British multicultural policy. These studies highlight the importance of looking at both the content of multicultural public policy and the institutional arrangements in which it is produced and enacted. Both public policy and institutional structures are examined in Chapter Five, which engages with the emergence of multicultural policy agendas in Northern Ireland since the Agreement. 34 2.4. Perspectives on ‘Multicultural’ Northern Ireland Having outlined the different approaches to understanding multiculturalism that my research engages with, this next section looks at the more specific literature pertaining to emerging multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. Increasingly the term multiculturalism is appearing in both academic and non-academic accounts of contemporary Northern Ireland (Chan 2006; McVeigh and Rolston 2007; Nash 2005; OFMDFM 2005a). In the sections that follow I review relevant research on various attempts to fix the meaning of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland. In particular, literature on demographic change and racism, the multicultural politics of recognition, anti-racism and recent studies of Northern Irish public policy are reviewed and discussed. The aim of these discussions is to show how my research both develops out of, and fills gaps in, these existing literatures. 2.4.1. Demographic changes and racism in Northern Ireland Although ethnically-identified minorities have always resided in the territory of Northern Ireland, the existence of groups beyond the ‘two traditions’ was generally ignored in academic studies of the region (Hainsworth 1998; Lentin and McVeigh 2006a; McVeigh 1998).13 Recent research, however, has highlighted the region’s growing demographic diversity (Devine 2006; Jarman 2006; Rogers 2006). Over the last ten years, immigration has increased, particularly from Eastern Europe, and Northern Ireland has recorded a higher level of in-migration than out-migration for the first time (Rogers 2006). McVeigh and Rolston (2007: 12) identify the peace process, which made Northern Ireland a more attractive place to live and work, and economic growth and labour shortages as the key factors behind these changing patterns of migration. As Northern Irish society has begun to display features of ‘demographic multiculturalism’ (Kobayashi 1993: 212), research has focused in particular on processes of racism and racialisation in response to this increased diversity (see Lentin and McVeigh 2006a). 13 The specifics of historical and contemporary processes of migration to Northern Ireland will be considered in detail in Chapter Four. Here it suffices to note that the main ethnic minorities present at the foundation of the state were Jews and Irish Travellers. From the 1960s on, the region also experienced migration from former Commonwealth areas, particularly Hong Kong and India (Irwin and Dunn 1997). 35 Throughout ‘the Troubles’ the issue of racism was almost completely absent from academic analyses of Northern Ireland for a number of reasons (McVeigh 1998). First, racism was not seen as a problem largely because of the popular misconception that there was not demographic diversity. Secondly, the dominance of sectarianism, the ‘[p]reoccupation with traditional communal politics and divisions’, marginalised the concerns of racialised groups, with government and civil society doing little to address the needs and experiences of these vulnerable peoples (Hainsworth 1998: 34; Mann-Kler 1997). Thirdly, the common identification of both of the dominant groups in Northern Ireland as ‘white’ led to a situation in which ideas of ‘racial’ difference were rarely explicitly evoked (McVeigh 1999: 17). Although recent scholarship has shown that ‘white’ is itself a racialised category (Anderson 2002; Bonnett 1997; 1999; Jackson 1998; McGuiness 2000; Nash 2003), the tendency to view Northern Ireland as a ‘white’ space remains (Chan 2006). Recently, however, as both the size and geographical location of demographic diversity has changed, the issue of racism ‘has emerged from almost complete obscurity to one of considerable legislative and political concern’ (Connolly 2002: 1; Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). There have been a number of quantitative and qualitative studies of racism in Northern Ireland conducted in the last decade. In Racist Harassment in Northern Ireland, Jarman and Monaghan (2003) analysed police data on ‘racial’ incidents.14 This research showed that the number and severity of such incidents is increasing. Both Gilligan and Lloyd (2006) and Hayes and Dowds (2006) drew on survey data in their analyses of ‘racial’ prejudice in Northern Ireland. These studies found that levels of self-reported prejudicial attitudes towards racialised groups have increased since 1994. Both of these studies also found that those holding strong sectarian attitudes were most likely to express prejudice against racialised groups. Connolly and Keenan (2000a; 2000b; 2001) conducted in- depth qualitative interviews to understand the experience of racist harassment among ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. This research found that racist harassment is ‘embedded in the routine behaviour and processes of Northern Irish 14 A ‘racial incident’, as defined by the Police Service of Ireland (PSNI), describes any incident with a ‘race’ dimension – and covers both crimes and ‘non-crimes’ (this phrase is adopted from Macpherson (1999)). As well as covering attacks on people and property, the definition of a ‘racial incident’ also includes incidents which would not normally result in criminal proceedings such as name-calling. 36 society’ (Connolly and Keenan 2001: 86). Studies have also combined quantitative and qualitative approaches. Irwin and Dunn’s (1997) ground-breaking study Ethnic Minorities in Northern Ireland investigated the experiences of these groups through both surveys and in-depth interviews. Using a similar approach, Bell, Jarman and Lefebvre (2004) examined the situation facing migrant workers in Northern Ireland. Although the focus of my research is not directly on racism, it is against the backdrop of increased discrimination against racialised groups that multicultural agendas have emerged in Northern Ireland. The research cited above suggests that practices of discrimination are embedded in at least some segments of Northern Irish society and that this situation is, in part, a legacy of sectarianism. However, research has not yet explored how sectarianism might impact on responses to racism in Northern Ireland. This is a theme of analysis that I develop throughout the dissertation, but particularly in Chapter Six. The impact of the sectarian division of Northern Irish society on minorities is a consistent theme in the literature (Chan 2006; Ellis 2001a; Lentin and McVeigh 2006b; McVeigh and Rolston 2007). The spatialisation of sectarianism has produced exclusivist notions of space and territory (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006), and excluded those groups not included in the ‘two traditions’ (Chan 2006). The movement of new migrants into areas with strong sectarian identifications has challenged sectarian expressions of place and space (Chan 2006). Connolly and Kennan (2001: 6) suggest that most racist acts in Northern Ireland are committed by boys and young men ‘based upon some notion of territory and a feeling that minority ethnic people represented a threat to that territory.’ Drawing attention to the spatialisation of processes of racialisation in Northern Ireland, Chan (2006: 71) argues that [Northern Ireland] offers many examples of place making by racialized, ethnicized minorities which have been prevented or opposed, such as the Mosque which was not built in Bleary Co. Armagh due to the objections of politicians purporting to speak on behalf of ‘locals’ in 2003, or the many homes of racialized, ethnicized migrants and minorities that have been attacked and their inhabitants assaulted. Jarman and Monaghan (2003: 21) highlight the intersection of territorialized sectarian division and processes of racialisation. 37 As sectarian residential segregation has continued to increase it is likely that some people have identified the minority as the new ‘other’ and turned their attentions away from the Protestant or Catholic minority towards the Chinese and Indian communities who are beginning to create new interfaces in some working class communities. This is not to argue that racism and sectarianism are exactly the same thing but they have common roots in a society which does not tolerate difference, which is focused in upon itself, is insecure and which accepts violence and abuse as a legitimate form of expression. As this dissertation looks at the emergence of multicultural agendas in the context of a sectarian society, it is important to take a step back from these empirical studies to probe a little deeper the relationship between sectarianism and racism. Above, Jarman and Monaghan argue that sectarianism and racism are not ‘exactly the same thing’, yet a tendency to treat the terms as equivalent has emerged in the Northern Ireland context (for example, McVeigh and Rolston 2007). In my own research I acknowledge that sectarianism and racism share commonalities as ‘socially and politically produced systems of power and discrimination’ (Chan 2006: 64). However, I also argue that sectarianism and racism are analytically and ontologically discrete processes. As Brewer (1992) contends, sectarianism and racism are similar but not the same: while ‘race’ is based on the perception of putative differences in physical characteristics, sectarianism is not based on perceptual cues (for example, one cannot see if a person is Catholic/Nationalist or Protestant/Unionist from their skin colour). Sectarianism is inferred instead from a series of stereotypical cues such as where a person went to school or where they live. McVeigh (1999: 18) analyses the two processes dialectically in terms of the social relations involved, and concludes that sectarianism and racism ‘involve groups which are constituted in substantially different ways’ such that ‘the two phenomena maintain a discrete integrity’. Although sectarianism and racism share similarities as the basis for discriminatory practices, they are not equivalent. While my own research has been very mindful of the distinctions between sectarianism and racism, in Chapters Five and Six my work explores how and why the two processes are often collapsed into one another in official and popular discourses in post-conflict Northern Ireland. 38 2.4.2. The politics of recognition in Northern Ireland Social and political analyses of Northern Ireland have not been populated by debates about the multicultural politics of recognition, despite the prominence of these discussions in the literature on the management of diversity in liberal-democratic societies. Adrian Little (2003: 23) argues that this absence ‘reflects the tendency of political analysts to see Northern Ireland as a ‘place apart’.’ Little suggests the utility of the multicultural politics of recognition as a theoretical framework for rethinking Northern Ireland in the context of peace and political settlement. Critically engaging with the work of both Bhikhu Parekh and Will Kymlicka, Little finds elements of the thought of both writers in contemporary political discourses in Northern Ireland. Little (2003: 36-37) shows that the Agreement is not based on a multicultural model, contrary to attempts to interpret it in terms of multiculturalism (for example, McVeigh and Rolston 2007; Rolston 1998). Rather it is grounded in a consociational model which relies on, and tends to reify, the existence of separate Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist communal groupings (Schaap 2004). In order to move beyond the sectarian division of Northern Irish society, Little suggests that the politics of recognition must engage with both the internal diversity of the ‘two traditions’ (for example, in terms of class, gender, age, etc) and the existence of other groups in society such as ethnically-identified minorities.15 There has been an absence of research on how ethnically-identified minorities are included in the politics of recognition in Northern Ireland. My work addresses this lacuna by looking at the recognition of ethnically- identified groups in ‘multicultural’ festivals in Belfast (see Chapter Six). Palshaugen (2005) used the theoretical framework of the politics of recognition to investigate the workings of the Northern Ireland Civic Forum.16 The Civic Forum was constituted by representatives from various civil society groups ‘in an attempt at 15 This distinction between internal diversity within the ‘two traditions’ and other categories of ethnicised and racialised diversity mirrors Parekh’s (2000) distinction between subcultural and cultural diversity discussed earlier in this chapter. 16 The Civic Forum was a consultative body set up under strand 24 of the Agreement to represent the interests of wider civil society, rather than just those of political parties. It met on a number of occasions, but was suspended along with the Assembly in 2002 and has not met since. The Civic Forum had no formal legislative or governmental powers. It consisted of 60 members plus a Chairperson, and members were representative of the voluntary, business, agriculture, trade union, education, culture, community relations and fisheries sectors. 39 institutionalising an opportunity for debate and cooperation in the context of wider diversity and based on lines of division other than nationalist or unionist’ (Palshaugen 2005: 164). This research drew on interviews with members of the Civic Forum and observation at meetings to examine the politics of recognition in practice. Noting the tendency to privilege Nationalists and Unionists in the workings of the Civic Forum, Palshaugen (2005: 166) acknowledged the danger that Northern Ireland could ‘move from a situation dominated by one culture to a situation where the two communities dominate all other minorities.’ However, Palshaugen does not adequately address these concerns in her research. The ‘ethnic minority community’ representative sitting on the Civic Forum was not interviewed, and the study did not fully engage with the issues of those groups outside the ‘two traditions’. My work attempts to address this oversight by talking directly with representatives of different ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland about their experiences, issues and concerns. The absence of empirical research involving ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland has been noted in the literature (McVeigh and Lentin 2002; Lentin and McVeigh 2006a). One exception to this general omission is a study conducted by Suzanna Chan (2006) into efforts by the Chinese Welfare Association (CWA) in Belfast to secure space for a housing scheme for elderly people of Chinese descent. Drawing on reports, policy documents, interviews with CWA leaders and ethnography at consultation meetings, this research examined the difficulties faced by this group as it sought to reproduce itself spatially in Belfast. Chan notes that a site for the CWA was only identified and planning permission granted after the housing authority agreed to build more houses for Nationalist ‘locals’. Reflecting on the discrepancy between official discourses of multiculturalism and the problems the CWA experienced on the ground, Chan (2006: 67) argues that the basis of place-making practices of racialised minorities is always ‘conditional’ on sectarian considerations. As well as reiterating Ellis’s (2001a) finding that these groups are marginalised within the Northern Ireland planning system, Chan’s research shows how sectarian division hinders the multicultural politics of recognition. My study builds on Chan’s work by investigating the politics of recognition of ethnically-identified minorities in Belfast, in particular looking at events aimed at raising awareness of these groups (see Chapter Six). While Chan looked only at the CWA, my 40 engagement with a number of ethnically-identified minorities in Belfast represents an important step forward from existing research. Furthermore, my research is novel in the Northern Ireland context in that it combines an analysis of the multicultural politics of recognition with an investigation of other attempts to fix the meaning of cultural diversity such as through public policy and anti-racist movements. 2.4.3. Analyses of anti-racism in Northern Ireland There has, as McVeigh and Lentin (2002: 33) note, been ‘very little critical reflection on the process of anti-racism in Northern Ireland.’ Accounts of anti-racism in ‘Ireland’ have tended to focus only on the Republic of Ireland and neglected the situation north of the border (Garner 2004; Lentin 2004). For example, the sections on Ireland in Alana Lentin’s (2004) study of anti-racism in Europe were based on interviews with groups located only in the Republic of Ireland. Similarly, writing on the potential for new forms of anti-racist alliances and movements in Ireland, Steve Garner (2004) focuses only on the south of Ireland. Garner proposes that the internationalist agenda of militant Irish Republicanism could foster a discursive repertoire for anti-racists in ‘Ireland’. He does not, however, consider the obvious limits of adopting such strategies in the context of Northern Ireland, where Irish Republicanism is closely linked with sectarian politics and the division that this engenders. As Northern Irish society becomes more culturally diverse, the challenge is for writers on anti-racism to extend their analysis to include Northern Ireland, and to consider the specificities of this context in their work. The emergence of anti-racist discourses and practices in contemporary Northern Ireland has been observed in passing (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). However, studies of anti- racism in Northern Ireland have been limited to historical analyses. Describing the establishment of Belfast branches of organisations like the Trotskyite anti-Nazi League during the late 1970s and early 1980s, Robbie McVeigh (2002a) highlights the role played by anti-racists based in the UK mainland in the development of anti-racism in Northern Ireland. McVeigh also outlines the formation of new anti-racist alliances involving ethnically-identified minorities from the start of the 1990s. Although McVeigh’s work is important in terms of outlining the historical trajectory of anti- 41 racism, it has not been followed up by empirically grounded studies of anti-racism in Northern Ireland. Similarly, while Suzanna Chan (2006: 61) argues that anti-racism in Northern Ireland ‘needs to thoroughly disrupt dominant discourses and relations between majorities and racialized, ethnicized minorities’ there has been no empirical engagement with the processes of anti-racism. This absence is part of the rationale for looking at anti-racism in West Belfast as part of my research (see Chapter Seven). Drawing on empirical research on anti-racist campaigns, this chapter examines the emergence of anti-racist discourses and representations – and their intersection with territorialized sectarian identities – in a deeply divided locale. 2.4.4. Research on post-Agreement public policy Since the Agreement, the emergence of discourses of cultural diversity and multiculturalism in Northern Irish public policy has been noted (Chan 2006; McVeigh and Rolston 2007). In a paper examining post-conflict policy in Northern Ireland, Graham and Nash (2006: 255) ‘take up a recent call for geographical attention to democracy’s routine procedures and policy matters’ to look specifically at the consultation process for the A Shared Future policy. Based on a close reading of responses to a draft of the A Shared Future document and analysis of the policy itself, their paper investigates the difficulty of encouraging pluralist policy within a society in which sectarian differences are articulated territorially. They observed that responses to the draft policy exhibited diverse and often conflicting interpretations of the meaning of ‘sharing’ and ‘pluralism’. This, the authors argue, illustrates the tension between state- led public policy and the reality of sectarian territoriality. Graham and Nash’s research is relevant to my study to follow in that it demonstrates how multicultural initiatives interact with embedded sectarianism in the context of post-Agreement Northern Ireland. As they surmise: ‘Northern Ireland remains an arena of conflict not only between identities but also between formal processes of consociational democracy’ (Graham and Nash 2006: 276). The emergence of a concern with pluralist policy is, they argue, part of a process of ‘normalization’ after the conflict (Graham and Nash 2006: 265). The idea that the emergence of multicultural agendas is a facet of ‘normalising’ Northern Ireland and moving it beyond sectarianism is a theme of analysis that I develop further in 42 Chapter Five. Graham and Nash’s work is important in terms of looking specifically at the emergence of pluralist policy in Northern Ireland; however, it does not fully attend to the institutional structures of public policy. In contrast, and building on their findings, my research looks at the content of multicultural policy alongside a detailed examination of the institutional structures of post-Agreement Northern Ireland in which such policy is being produced and enacted. A concern with multicultural policy initiatives animates other studies of contemporary Northern Ireland such as Silvia Mussano’s (2004) examination of the development of citizenship education policy. Based on an analysis of policy discourses and statements from key institutional players, she argues that public policy has begun to move towards full recognition of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland. The issue of multiculturalism and public policy in Northern Ireland is more directly addressed in a study by Catherine Nash (2005) of cultural policy in Northern Ireland. Defining multiculturalism as ‘the diverse policies and ways of thinking about societies characterised by cultural plurality’, Nash (2005: 274) traces shifts in the meaning of ‘identity’ and ‘tradition’ in Northern Irish cultural policy. Her analysis draws on policy documents and publications alongside interviews with policy makers and community relations practitioners. Using the framework of multicultural theory, Nash critically engages with the emergence of discourses of cultural diversity in public culture and politics with a specific focus on the Community Relations Council (CRC). In highlighting the potential for cultural policy to challenge essentialised conceptualisations of tradition and identity in Northern Ireland, Nash shows how efforts are being made to re-imagine Northern Irish society in terms of both sectarian difference and wider demographic diversity. Eschewing easy cynicism, Nash’s work suggests the potential for multicultural agendas to undermine and destabilise accepted sectarian conceptions of Northern Irish society. The potential identified by Nash (2005) for emerging multicultural agendas to help move Northern Ireland beyond sectarianism is a central starting point for my research which has sought to explore in detail the veracity of such claims and the ways in which these agendas manifest institutionally and in practice. For example, while Nash focused mainly on the CRC, my study engages with a wider set of institutions (such as key post- 43 Agreement institutions such as the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister) as well as the discourses and policies of non-governmental bodies. Similarly, while Graham and Nash (2006) look at a key piece of post-conflict public policy and responses to a draft of this policy text, my work includes an analysis of institutional structures and relationships alongside interviews with policy makers and civil servants. This has allowed me to understand the production and enactment of multicultural policy within the specific governing structures of post-Agreement Northern Ireland. Finally, unlike the studies reviewed in this section, my research does not focus only on public policy. As outlined in this chapter, my work examines other attempts to fix the meaning of cultural diversity in contemporary Northern Ireland such as anti-racism and the multicultural politics of recognition. 2.5. Conclusion This chapter has reviewed a range of literatures that are relevant to understanding sectarianism, multiculturalism and the intersection of emerging multicultural agendas and sectarianism in Northern Ireland which is the focus of my research. The chapter began by attending to recent geographies of religion, concluding that the conceptual framing of religion in this work was inadequate for understanding the complexly embedded ‘religious’ nature of sectarianism in Northern Ireland. Sectarianism in the Northern Ireland context reflects social, psychological and economic factors and influences far beyond doctrinal divisions between Catholics and Protestants. Instead, sectarianism is understood in my research as those sets of discourses and social practices which (re)produce sectarian constructions of space and identity. Sectarianism continues to structure the lived experiences of many in Northern Ireland, despite the social and political advances since the peace process. A range of literatures relevant to understanding multiculturalism in contemporary societies were then examined. Multiculturalism was conceptualised as referring to a wide range of strategies for fixing the meaning of cultural diversity in society, of which four approaches which frame my research were identified. The first, demographic multiculturalism, refers simply to the existence of diversity in society. The presence of 44 cultural diversity, which is often understood in terms of ‘race’, may be rejected through racist attitudes and behaviours directed against racialised groups. At the same time, the issue of racism may stimulate societal responses aimed at addressing this problem. Secondly, the chapter looked at the politics of recognition that has influenced many debates and policy positions on multiculturalism. Proponents of this theory argue that contemporary society can be understood as composed of a range of culturally defined groups seeking the recognition of their collective identities. Reviewing research on the politics of recognition, I argued that the practices of recognition, particularly in the city, offer an opportunity for empirical engagement with the multicultural politics of recognition. Thirdly, anti-racism was approached as a sub-field of multiculturalism that combines a desire to combat racism with an alternative vision of social relations. Empirical studies of anti-racism were discussed, and it was argued that research should attend to the discourses and representations produced by anti-racist campaigns and activists. Fourthly, multiculturalism has been conceived of as public policy and its institutional arrangements. Given the focus of my study on Northern Ireland, multicultural policy in Britain was reviewed. The promotion of ‘racial’ equality through ‘race’ relations and the celebration of cultural diversity are central elements of current British multicultural policy. This discussion showed that while much has been written on the content of multicultural policy, empirical research has often failed to adequately account for the institutional structures within which multicultural policy is produced and enacted. The chapter then accounted for literature on processes of multiculturalism in present day Northern Ireland. First, it was argued that as the demographic make-up of Northern Irish society has changed due to increased migration, quantitative and qualitative studies have focused in particular on the issue of racism in Northern Irish society and the impact of sectarian division on racialised groups. The absence of research exploring the impact of sectarianism on responses to racism in Northern Ireland is addressed in my research. Secondly, research examining Northern Ireland through the theoretical framework of the politics of recognition was discussed. The politics of recognition has rarely been employed in academic discussions on Northern Ireland, and when it has been used it has tended to refer only to Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist communal 45 groupings. This discussion highlighted the paucity of research on the recognition of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. Thirdly, the literature on anti-racism in Northern Ireland was reviewed. It was shown that there has been a complete absence of empirical research on processes of anti-racism on the ground. Finally, studies which have considered the shift towards a greater recognition of diversity and pluralism in Northern Irish public policy were discussed. Although some of these studies have highlighted how embedded sectarianism hinders attempts to construct post-Agreement Northern Ireland as plural and diverse, they have not fully examined the institutional structures within which multicultural policy agendas are produced and enacted. Despite extensive research on sectarianism in Northern Ireland and multiculturalism in contemporary societies, as yet no research has fully engaged with the intersection of a range of emergent multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism in this context. This chapter has highlighted the key debates and studies which inform my project and suggested how the empirical material presented in Chapters Five, Six and Seven addresses significant gaps in these literatures. In the following chapter the way in which a range of different qualitative methods, including interviewing, participant observation, policy and institutional analysis and visual methods, were all used in my research is discussed at length. 46 Chapter Three Methodology 47 3.1. Introduction Chapter Two introduced several important themes in the academic literature that frame my research on sectarianism and emergent multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. These included sectarianism in Northern Ireland, demographic multiculturalism, the politics of recognition, anti-racism and multicultural policy frameworks (with a specific focus on the UK context). My research developed out of these recent academic debates, but, as this chapter outlines, the specific research questions and study areas addressed also reflect methodological and contextual concerns. In this chapter I describe how the specific units of analysis were selected, and explain and justify the selection of field sites. Data collection and analysis are also discussed. The aim of this chapter is to allow the reader to understand how the research was undertaken, and to identify and engage with the methodological strengths and weaknesses of my study. In this chapter the different qualitative methods I used to investigate the interaction between sectarianism and multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland are presented and discussed. There are research goals and objectives for which qualitative methods are particularly valuable: developing causal explanations of social phenomena; identifying unanticipated phenomena and outcomes; understanding participant’s context(s); and understanding the meaning of events, actions and experiences for participants (Maxwell 1996). My research relied on qualitative methods as the type of data I needed required an ‘in-depth, intensive approach rather than statistical description and generalizable predictions’ (Dwyer and Limb 2001: 6). Alongside the well-established qualitative methods of interviewing and observation, other methods popular in human geography such as document and institutional analysis and visual methods were used in this research project (Crang; 2003; Rose 2001). Until recently, the political situation in Northern Ireland led many human geographers to rely predominantly on quantitative methods (for example, Boal and Douglas 1982; Compton and Power 1986). While the conflictual and often violent nature of ‘the Troubles’ made in-depth qualitative studies difficult, Schubotz (2005) notes that since the ceasefires research in Northern Ireland has increasingly relied on such methods (for an example of in-depth qualitative research on Northern Ireland in human geography, 48 see Shirlow 2003). When working in Northern Ireland there are specific pressures to ensure transparency in one’s research. This is especially so given the danger of misrepresentation through the over-privileging of extreme viewpoints and positions (Brewer, Lockhart and Rodgers 1998). The process of ‘triangulating’ qualitative data helps to avoid this pitfall (Denizen 1989). While the importance of triangulation is often recognised in standard research design textbooks (Dwyer and Limb 2001; Kitchen and Tate 2000), the bringing together of different sources and forms of data is not always achieved in many qualitative research projects (Cochrane 1998). In an effort to ensure the validity of the research findings, in this study I use a variety of qualitative methods to interrogate the relationship between multiculturalism and sectarianism in post- Agreement Northern Ireland. This chapter starts by outlining the broad methodological commitment to discourse analysis adopted in this project, including a discussion of how discourse analysis was conceptualised in the research. The utility of this method for looking at policies, institutional structures, interviews and visual culture is outlined. I argue that discourse analysis can be productively supplemented by an engagement with the social practice and spaces within which discourses are mobilised. The chapter then accounts for the way in which I accessed the wider discursive field of multiculturalism in Northern Ireland, and the rationale and method by which specific sites and actors were selected. Techniques of data collection, specifically interviewing, observation and visual methods, are outlined in detail. This discussion includes a consideration of my own identity and positionality within the research process. Data analysis and interpretation are detailed to show how the findings presented in the substantive chapters were reached within the methodological framework of the research. The final section considers some of the limitations of the methodology adopted in this research. 3.2. Discourse Analysis This section develops an understanding of discourse, discourse analysis and the relation between discourse and social practice that provides a primary methodological frame for the research. The bulk of the work that has been carried out in discourse analysis refers, 49 directly or indirectly, to the writings of Michel Foucault (1967; 1972; 1973; 1974), and his discussions of power, knowledge and truth; the configuration of which constitutes discourse (Mills 2003). In contrast to traditional approaches in linguistics, Foucault did not think about discourse in terms of groups of signs or pieces of text, but rather as ‘practices that systematically form the objects of which they speak’ (Foucault 1972: 49). Foucault (1972) argued that power and knowledge are inter-related, and, therefore, every human relationship is a negotiation of power. According to Foucault (1972), discourse is intimately bound up with power as it operates by rules of exclusion. The dominant discursive formations control what can be spoken of, where and how one may speak and who may speak. Foucault (1979) rejected the notion that truth was objective and ‘out there’ in the world, arguing instead that it is socially produced and subjective. As a consequence, Foucault (1973) saw knowledge not as the quest for this ‘truth’ but as the struggle for control of discourse, what he termed ‘power/knowledge’ (Mills 2003: 22). A key element of Foucault’s work for my discourse analysis is his emphasis on how different social actors and organisations develop various discourses to conform with, circumvent, or contest dominant discursive formations. Amongst many others, Foucault’s work on discourse had a major influence on Norman Fairclough’s (1989; 1992; 1995) more pragmatically technical approach of Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA). This is an interdisciplinary approach to the study of text and talk which seeks ‘to unpack the ideological underpinning of discourse’ (Fairclough 1989: 20). According to CDA, discourse is not simply a reflection of social processes, but rather fundamental to the social reproduction of social structures (Teo 2000). For Foucault (1972), language is the primary instrument through which ideology is transmitted, enacted and reproduced.17 Fairclough (1992: 44) develops this position to 17 Although this is not a study of ideology, it is important to make clear my understanding of such a loaded term. The term ‘ideology’ dates back over two hundred years; it was used by Napoleon Bonaparte in a negative way to refer to all abstract or fanciful social theories or ideas (Williams 1985). In The German Ideology Marx developed his base/superstructure theory of society in which he argued that because the ruling class controls the means of production (the base of society) it also controls its superstructure, including its ideology (Marx and Engels 1970). Marx understood ideology as the instrument of social reproduction through which the ideas of the ruling class are reproduced and ‘false consciousness’ engendered in the proletariat. Gramsci (1971) built on Marx’s writing on ideology to develop the concept of ‘hegemony’ to refer to the way in which social control is maintained through the construction of bourgeois values and goals as ‘normal’. More recently cultural theorists have critiqued the dominant Marxist notion of ideology. Zizek (1989) argues that ‘false consciousness’, the simplistic assumption that 50 emphasise the ‘major role of discourse in the construction of social subjects.’ Discourse, according to Fairclough (1992: 55), constitutes the social but, at the same time, all discursive practice draws upon, and is related to, other forms of discourse that exist in the social realm. Fairclough (1992; 1995) presents Critical Discourse Analysis as a means of understanding the text itself and the wider discursive, and social, practice within which it is subsumed. As well as attending to linguistic features of the text, CDA investigates the macro-level social practices through which institutions both construct and constrain discourse. As outlined in Chapter Two, multicultural agendas, both in Northern Ireland and elsewhere, may be articulated in public policy and the institutional frameworks in which policy is produced and enacted. Policy analysis offers a means of examining the emergence of particular discursive constructions and their use in policy argumentation (Fischer 2003; Forester 1999). A CDA-informed approach to policy analysis looks in particular at changes in language use, repetition of terms and other linguistic attributes of policy texts. Although an analysis of policy texts allows for the emergence of particular discourses to be traced, it reveals little about how they are actualised in practice (Larner 2000). Fairclough’s (1992) model appears to recognise this limitation, suggesting that CDA should involve both textual analysis and analysis of the social and institutional structures within which texts are produced and disseminated. This emphasises the need to examine the characteristics of institutions, the nature of their relationship to other institutions, as well as the policy texts they produce (Czarniawska 1998; Halkier 2003). An institution may be defined as ‘a relatively enduring collection of rules and organized practices, embedded in structures of meaning and resources that are relatively invariant in the face of turnover of individuals’ (March and Olsen 2006: 6). ‘New institutionalism’ authority and ideas are blindly accepted, belies the cynicism of modern society. Ideology 'is not simply a “false consciousness”, an illusory representation of reality, it is rather this reality itself which is already to be conceived as “ideological”' (Zizek 1989: 21). Dominant ideologies wholly structure individual subjects’ senses of reality such that to speak of false consciousness has no meaning. Ideology, according to Zizek, does not mask some external ‘reality’, but instead is the very stuff that makes up consciousness. Understanding ideology as everyday, mundane social praxis suggests the need to focus on the discourses, objects and experiences of everyday life through which ideology is constructed and (re)produced. 51 emphasises the role played by institutions in constructing social order (March and Olsen 1984). Institutions are political in that they are the substance by which politics is constructed and the vehicle through which politics is practised (Karl 1990). As carriers of identities, institutions mark out the character, history and future visions of a society (March and Olsen 1989). At the same time, specific institutional arrangements may have an impact on policy and political actors, constraining or enabling outcomes and changes (March and Olsen 2006). This suggests the importance of speaking to civil servants and policy makers to understand both the discourses of these social actors and the institutions within which they are mobilised. In my research I also wanted to investigate the discourses of non-state actors and, for this reason, spoke with representatives from ethnically-identified minorities and voluntary/community groups. The selection process and collection of interview data will be detailed later in this chapter. The applicability of discourse analysis is not limited to interviews and policy analysis; it can also be used to analyse pictures, photographs and other visual materials (Rose 2001; Tonkiss 1998). Discourse analysis explicitly looks at different ways in which text and images are used to persuade and produce particular claims to truth in specific social contexts (Rose 2001). Again drawing on the work of Foucault, Gillian Rose (2001: 136) argues that discourse as ‘a particular knowledge about the world that shapes how the world is understood and how things are done in it’ is articulated through visual and verbal images as well as texts. In this way, images are used to construct specific views of the social world. Conducting discourse analysis, according to Tonkiss (1998), involves engaging with two specific aspects of the text. First, there is the analysis of the text itself; in the case of visual culture this includes the images and objects that carry them. Second, the social context of the discourse needs to be considered; this includes looking at who is producing the visual culture, why they are producing it and in what circumstances. Although language can only be understood in the context of its use, discourse analysis has been accused of failing to engage fully with social practice. Bridge (2005: 96) argues that social science and, in particular, discourse analysis tends to overemphasise the importance of ‘talk’ while failing to account for the performative aspect of 52 communication. Certainly non-representational approaches have highlighted the performative and embodied aspects of identity and social relations (Jacobs and Nash 2003; Thrift 1996; 1999; Whatmore 1999). This criticism has been noted by discourse analysts. Fairclough (1989: 20) suggests that we consider ‘language as a form of social practice’, and, as outlined above, Tonkiss (1998) emphasises the social context of discourse alongside the text itself. Similarly, Wetherell and Potter (1992: 90) argue that there is a need ‘to place much more emphasis on discourse as social practice, on the context of use and thus on the act of discursive instantiation.’ As well as looking at the words used in a particular situation, it is often important to consider non-discursive features of the social context. Oftentimes what a person does is just as important as what is said, if not even more so. Mindful of these concerns, and the questions which this research sought to address, my discourse analysis was augmented by observation at events organised by different groups (which will be detailed later in the chapter). 3.3. Selecting Field Sites, Sources, and Informants In this section my selection of specific field sites, sources and types of information will be discussed and justified. Writing about choosing a field site in Sudan, Cindi Katz (1994: 69) concluded that its selection was ‘an amalgam of historical circumstance, intellectual criteria, practical specifications, and default.’ Certainly my decision to conduct research in Northern Ireland reflects a variety of factors, some personal and circumstantial, others academic and career-oriented. Although I grew up in the south of Ireland, I lived relatively close to the border with Northern Ireland. As I was growing up, Northern Ireland was geographically near, but psychologically quite removed from my everyday life. Daily our television screens were filled with stories and images from Northern Ireland, but I rarely crossed the heavily militarised border zone. As the violence of ‘the Troubles’ began to end, and the optimism of the Peace Process and, eventually, the Agreement built, I became increasingly interested in the dramatic changes taking place in the neighbouring jurisdiction. These social, political and economic changes and the increase in cultural diversity that accompanied them have provided the context for this research (see Chapter Four). Of course, choosing a field site is, as Katz notes, also closely bound up with intellectual concerns and specific research 53 questions. As Chapter Two demonstrated, my research on the emergence of multicultural agendas in a society divided along sectarian lines arises out of, and seeks to contribute to, a number of key academic debates. Similarly, the decision to concentrate on Belfast rather than other areas of Northern Ireland was motivated by intellectual and practical considerations. The city has been identified as the most propitious site for researching multiculturalism (Wood and Gilbert 2005), and, as the main urban centre in Northern Ireland, Belfast was the most logical location for my research. Furthermore, Belfast has been both the most popular destination for new migrants (Rogers 2006), and the site of the majority of reported attacks on racialised minorities (Jarman and Monaghan 2003). Belfast also had significant advantages in terms of access to informants and social practices. All the administrative functions of Northern Ireland run from Castle Buildings at Stormont (just outside Belfast), and all the key policy makers and civil servants work in Belfast. The city is also home to numerous ethnically-identified minority groups and voluntary/community sector groups. Also, prior to beginning my PhD I already had a number of contacts in Belfast that I did not have in other areas of Northern Ireland. These contacts allowed me to conduct small scale pilot studies before commencing fieldwork proper, and provided me with an ‘in’ which I would not have had in, for example, Derry or a semi-rural area such as mid-Ulster. Academic links with Queens University, Belfast were another determining factor. During my fieldwork I held an honorary position as a Visiting Research Associate in the Department of Geography, Archaeology and Paleoecology at Queens. The next step was to develop an initial understanding of the discursive field of multiculturalism in Northern Ireland. This involved identifying the different types and sources of information that I would require for the study. As the research sought to examine public policy and institutional structures, information from both primary sources (interviews and observation) and secondary sources (policy documents and other printed materials) was needed. As well as consulting primary sources, speaking with representatives from ethnically-identified minorities and voluntary/community groups was identified as the most effective means of gaining access to information on responses 54 to racialised violence and attempts to raise awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland. As will be described later in this chapter, these interviews were augmented by both observation and analysis of visual culture. Observation took place at multicultural festivals and anti-racist events (see Section 3.4.4.), and the visual culture produced by anti-racist groups was examined to explore the politics of anti-racism in West Belfast (see Section 3.4.5.). The policies to be analysed were selected based on their concern with ‘multicultural issues’, the recentness of their publication and the institution which produced them. As social policy in Northern Ireland is devolved I chose to focus on texts produced by institutions within the devolved administration. After consulting the websites of key devolved institutions, I chose two policies for detailed analysis: A Shared Future, published by the Community Relations Unit in March 2005, and A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland, published by the Racial Equality Unit in July 2005. The former document was intended to set out the broad vision and principles for a post- conflict Northern Irish society (Graham and Nash 2006), and the goal of the latter document was to outline a strategy for promoting racial equality across the political institutions of Northern Ireland. Both of these documents make direct references to issues of cultural diversity, multiculturalism and racism in Northern Ireland. Prior to entering the field a close reading was done of these texts, and a manual coding system was used to highlight key terms that recurred throughout the documents. Later these policy texts were analysed further according to the principles of CDA outlined in the previous section. An auxiliary outcome of this initial exercise was that I gained a better understanding of the general discursive arena in which multicultural policy was situated and this helped with later interviews. As well as looking at policy texts, my research also sought to engage with the discourses used by policy makers and civil servants, and with the institutional structures within which policies were produced and enacted. Based on triangulation between the research questions, pilot interviews with civil servants and preliminary analysis of policy texts, I began the process of selecting what I refer to as ‘government’ interviewees (to differentiate them from the ‘community’ interviewees described later). In the summer of 55 2005, I identified a number of key ‘government’ institutions such as the Community Relations Unit (CRU), the Racial Equality Unit (REU), the Community Relations Council (CRC), the Equality Commission, the Department of Social Development and the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). These institutions were selected based on the extent of their contribution to the key policy areas identified (Cochrane 1998). For example, PSNI had recently appointed ‘minority ethnic liaison officers’; the Equality Commission has a duty to promote ‘race’ equality and had recently produced policy guidelines for enforcing this. Having identified key informants, I began the process of getting in contact with them using details gleaned from institutional websites. Prior to entering the field, the ethical implications of the research were thoroughly considered, and, in the summer of 2005, the research received ethical clearance from the Institute of Geography’s Research Ethics Committee. Mindful of the importance of providing potential interviewees with a clear description of both myself and the project (Kitchen and Tate 2000; Valentine 2005), a formal letter of introduction was drawn up. The intention was to post these letters to potential ‘government’ interviewees towards the end of the summer of 2005. However, as obtaining postal addresses for many individuals proved difficult, I decided to make initial contact via an e-mail containing the key points of the formal letter including my contact details and a synopsis of the research and its aims (see Appendix I for sample letter of introduction). In total I e- mailed 13 ‘government’ individuals and institutions and received 11 positive responses (see Appendix II for list of ‘government’ interviewees). As well as the discourses and practices of civil servants and policy makers, I was interested in multicultural events aimed at raising awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland and those groups involved in them. I also wanted to talk to these same groups about their experiences of attempts to respond to racism in the context of a sectarian society. Following pilot interviews with representatives from ethnically- identified minorities, I decided that the criteria for selection of these ‘community’ interviewees should be that the group was based in Belfast and had, over the course of the previous year, received funding from the Racial Equality Unit for an event aimed at raising awareness of ethnicised and racialised diversity. The rationale behind this 56 selection policy was that those groups that had received funding were likely to be the most active and, hopefully, willing to discuss their opinions and experiences. Looking at press releases on the Racial Equality Unit’s website, I found the contact details of 14 different organisations that had been allocated money between the summer of 2004 and 2005. These groups included the Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities, the Chinese Welfare Association and Belfast Islamic Centre (see Appendix II for full list of groups interviewed). As Crang (2003) notes, research projects are often presented to different people in different ways. The formal letter drawn up for these ‘community’ interviewees was slightly different than that for ‘government’ interviewees (see Appendix I). A greater focus was placed on opinions and the types of practices engaged in. In total I contacted all 14 organisations that had received funding and obtained positive responses from 11 of these groups. A further two interviews were secured during the fieldwork (the reason for these extra interviews is outlined in Section 3.4.1.). The events selected for observation fell into one of three categories. First, there were festivals which sought to promote the recognition of cultural diversity. Observation was conducted at the Samhain/Diwali festival held in the Waterworks Park in North Belfast in November 2005 and the Belfast Mela held in the Botanic Gardens in August 2006. These two events were selected as both were organised by culturally-identified minorities and involved expressing and celebrating that identity through events held in prominent public spaces in Belfast. Observation at these festivals allowed me to explore the politics of recognition and the impact of the sectarian division of social space on these practices (see Chapter Six). The second category of events selected were those organised by the Racial Equality Unit, the institution of government most directly involved with ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. The goal of this observation was to supplement my interview data and to understand more about the relationship between institutions. To further this aim I observed a roundtable discussion involving government institutions and representatives of ethnically-identified minorities. The third, and final, category was those events organised to launch anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast (see Chapter Seven). 57 As outlined in Chapter Two, anti-racism represents another attempt to fix the meaning of cultural diversity in a multicultural society. In this research I was interested in how political murals, posters and pamphlets, traditional mediums for reproducing sectarian division, were now being used to carry an anti-racist message. I first picked up on this theme during a preliminary trip to Belfast in May 2005 when a local newspaper reported on the unveiling of an anti-racist mural in West Belfast. Consequently, I decided to focus on anti-racist groups in West Belfast, an area strongly divided along sectarian lines (Boal 1969; Dowler 2001) (see Chapter Seven). I chose to look at representations produced in a range of mediums including murals, posters and pamphlets. These anti- racist objects were selected if they had been produced and/or distributed in West Belfast, and if they carried a message about anti-racism and/or the acceptance of cultural diversity. I interviewed individuals involved in the production of these anti-racist texts and, in one instance, a mural painter who had worked on an anti-racist mural. Interviews and the analysis of texts and visuals were supplemented by observation at two events organised to launch anti-racist campaigns. My engagement with anti-racist visual culture also included an analysis of a poster distributed as part of a hate crime awareness campaign ran by the PSNI in 2005 and 2006.18 This campaign was prominent in different areas of Belfast during the fieldwork period, and, for this reason, I decided to focus in detail on the images used in it (see Chapter Six). As well as analysing the image used in this poster, I interviewed the PSNI officer responsible for this campaign. 3.4. Data Collection and Analysis The over-arching aim of the following sections is to demonstrate clearly to the reader how data was collected and analysed, and to reflect on my own experiences of these processes. The first section discusses the main data collection method used, semi- structured interviewing. Prior to outlining the methods by which interview data was 18 Hate crime is a legal term: in Northern Ireland it is used to describe any criminal offence committed against a person or their property that is motivated by a hatred of the person on the grounds of a particular person’s ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, religion, political opinion or disability. In Northern Ireland hate crime is defined, recorded and policed by the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). 58 analysed, my own experiences of conducting interviews during the research are considered. Subsequently, the collection, recording and analysis of observational data are discussed. The final section engages with the collection and analysis of visual data. 3.4.1. Interviewing through semi-structured interviews Interviews were the primary method used in this research. There are a variety of different types of interviewing in social science research (Fontana and Frey 1998). This research relied on semi-structured interviews as these give the interviewer freedom and flexibility in the conduct of the conversation, but are directed by a predetermined scheme that reflects research goals (Corbetta 2003). This had the advantage of allowing me to speak directly to a diverse group of respondents, and to alter the focus of the interview to reflect the relationship of the respondent and their organisation to the research objectives. Semi-structured interviews allowed me to focus on the respondent’s experiences and opinions to develop my understanding of ‘the processes which operate on particular social contexts’ (Punch 2005; Valentine 2005: 111). Interviews with policy makers and key civil servants, for example, allowed me to gain access to more detailed accounts of multicultural policy and its enactment within an institutional structure that continue to privilege sectarian political identities. Many of these interviewees brought along printed materials that they thought might be relevant to my study. These included official publications and policy documents as well as copies of speeches and, in one instance, an internal memo describing the establishment of the Racial Equality Unit (REU). The interviews with ethnically-identified minority groups that had been allocated funding from the REU allowed me to understand the opinions held by this constituency on multiculturalism and responses to racialised violence in Northern Ireland. Again, interviewees often gave me publications and other printed materials. In looking at the visual culture of anti-racism in West Belfast, speaking with individuals involved in the production and distribution of anti-racist texts supplemented the discourse analysis of these representations and helped me to understand the social context of their production. 59 In conducting qualitative research it is common that a ‘gatekeeper’ must be approached to gain access to relevant people or information (Dwyer and Limb 2001). During the early months of my PhD a contact I had known in Belfast for a number of years passed details of my project onto the Director of the Racial Equality Unit (REU) in the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister. After exchanging e-mails the Director of the REU and I spoke briefly on the phone in March 2005. This individual was very interested in my work, and we arranged to meet in Belfast the following month. At this meeting, conducted informally in a city centre pub, the informant talked openly and suggested that we keep in touch. It was through this ‘gatekeeper’ that I was able to secure interviews with high-ranking civil servants and to attend a meeting of the Racial Equality Forum. Speaking with ethnically-identified minority groups it became clear that this key informant was well regarded within this constituency, and my association with him was beneficial with regard to conducting interviews and observation at events such as the Samhain/Diwali festival. In total I conducted 30 semi-structured interviews with 31 people (one interview was conducted with two people) (see Appendix II for full list of interviewees). All interviews were conducted in Belfast, with the exception of one interview which took place in Lisburn. The break down of interviews was 17 in the ‘community’ classification (of which 14 were with groups that had received REU funding, and 3 were with groups and individuals involved in anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast) and 13 in the ‘government’ category. Separate interview schedules were drawn up for each of the ‘government’ and ‘community’ groups with specific questions targeted at the individual interviewee added depending on information about the institution or group they worked with gleaned from reading policy documents and/or consulting websites (see Appendix III for examples of interview schedules). The mean length of interviews was an hour. On one occasion the respondent was opposed to the recording of the interview, and detailed notes were taken instead. All other interviews were recorded on a digital recorder, and all interviewees were given a consent form that they were asked to take a minute to read and sign before the interview proper commenced (see Appendix IV). Very few interviewees expressed 60 reluctance at being interviewed. I suspect that one of the reasons for this was that semi- structured interviews do not require respondents to give up a lot of their time, and, with the exception of those groups involved in events I wanted to observe, there was no further commitment required (Flowerdew and Martin 2001). I always thanked the interviewees, left my business card and explained to them that I was available if they had any issues or concerns they wanted to raise. The issue of where to conduct interviews was addressed by asking the interviewee to choose the venue. Most interviews took place in the interviewee’s place of work; though a small number were conducted in cafes in Belfast when no suitable alternative venue could be found. The latter location was found to be less than ideal. After listening to recordings of two interviews conducted in cafes it was decided that these were unsuitable venues (given the amount of background noise and distractions). All subsequent interviews took place in quieter locations. The bulk of the research took place during one fieldwork period between September 2005 and May 2006. The decision to conduct fieldwork during this time reflected practical and personal concerns. During the summer months institutional activity is scaled down as parliament is in recess. This is not, however, my only reason for avoiding conducting fieldwork in Northern Ireland at this time. Although the daily violence of ‘the Troubles’ is over, summer is still a politically tense and potentially volatile time in Northern Ireland. The annual parading season, which reaches its high point on July 12th, has often been associated with violence (Bryan 2000). People tend to leave Belfast as much as possible during the summer months, and the city is noticeably quieter at this time. Given these concerns it was somewhat ironic that the first weekend of my fieldwork proper (in September 2005) coincided with the worst civil disturbances in Belfast for ten years. Following the re-routing of a controversial Loyalist parade in West Belfast pitch battles with the police broke out in the Shankill area. Quickly rioting spread across Loyalist areas of the city. As I travelled through East Belfast to conduct my first interview in Castle Buildings, the bus was forced to take a detour to avoid a burning car 61 in the middle of the Newtownards Road. However, as I learned from subsequent experience, this was quite an exceptional weekend, and no further interviews required the negotiation of conflagrations. Only two interviews were conducted outside the main fieldwork time frame. One was with a Loyalist anti-racist group in Lisburn on the outskirts of Belfast that had received money from the REU during 2006. Although this group received funding later than the selection criteria (as noted previously, all other groups interviewed had received funding in 2005), the decision was made to include them as the direct involvement of former paramilitaries made this anti-racist group particularly interesting in terms of the research objectives. An interview with the mural artist involved in one of the anti-racist murals took many months to secure; this interview was conducted on a return visit to Belfast after the fieldwork proper ended. I also contacted some interviewees after the interview to clarify points they made that I was unsure about or to request further information on specific issues raised (when referred to in the text of the dissertation these follow-up contacts are referenced as ‘personal communication’ alongside the date). 3.4.2. Interviewer experiences Conducting good qualitative interviews is a difficult skill to master (Corbetta 2003). At the start of the project, I was relatively inexperienced in the art, and I needed to develop and hone various techniques throughout the interviewing process. This section will consider some of the techniques I used to help build up a relationship between my interviewees and myself, and will reflect on the effect of my own identity on the interview process (Crang 2003). Essentially an interview is a dialogue between two people, it is ‘a conversation with a purpose’ (Valentine 2005: 111). It is integral to the interview process that the interviewer is able to develop a balanced rapport with the respondent such that the interviewer rewards participation without evaluating responses (Kitchen and Tate 2000). Establishing rapport is an important way of developing and maintaining trust in the interview context (Rubin and Rubin 1995). This involves the interviewer being able to 62 put themselves in the respondent’s shoes, to see issues from their perspective rather than imposing academic or personal preconceptions on their ideas and responses (Fontana and Frey 1998). One method for building rapport is to begin interviews with descriptive or factual questions, such as asking how long the interviewee has been in the job, to make the respondent feel more comfortable (Valentine 2005). In the present research, this strategy was regularly employed to help judge the level at which to pitch communication (see Appendix III). The existence of a common understanding of the meaning and context in which terms are used is obviously crucial for successful interviewing. Mirroring back respondent’s language helped to establish a ‘sharedness of meaning’ in the interview context (Fontana and Frey 2000). The importance of appropriate use of language is even more pronounced in Northern Ireland where many terms are heavily politicised, and the possibility of revealing ignorance or, worse, causing offence is heightened. A good interviewer must be aware of the interview dynamic, be able to both adopt a style appropriate to the context and understand the position of the respondent. One useful way to develop these characteristics is through reciprocity, the sharing and exchanging of ideas and information with respondents (Valentine 2005). In the case of this study, for example, this involved telling respondents (particularly ‘community’ groups) about events and organisations that might be of interest to them. This sharing of information also demonstrated my (limited) expertise and helped to build trust. Similarly, when interviewing high-status respondents (such as senior civil servants) demonstrating that I was well informed and professional made me appear competent in the eyes of the interviewee. Dressing appropriately, and in a manner that reflects that of the respondents, also helped build rapport (Fontana and Frey 1998; Valentine 2005). Response effects are biases introduced by the researcher and the research context which can negatively effect the interview process (Fontana and Frey 2000). There exist three main types of bias: first, the respondent may attempt to please the interviewer by giving ‘socially desirable’ answers. In the present study this problem was not felt to be too severe as the nature of the questioning was rarely overly personal. The second type of bias is the wording of questions in a way that prompts certain responses. In an effort to 63 address this concern I attempted to avoid question phrasing that imposed answers, saying things like ‘Tell me about…’ which encouraged respondents to talk about an issue in their own words. Finally, the personality of the researcher and his/her style of interviewing can impede effective communication. Certainly early on in the study I found that some respondents had difficulty understanding my accent. As a result I made a conscious decision to speak more slowly and ask questions in a way that would maximise their communicability. Despite various attempts to ameliorate these biases, in some situations my interview style continued to have a negative effect on some responses. For example, I once asked a Republican mural artist if he ‘controlled’ the mural wall. The artist reacted angrily to my use of the word ‘control’ as he felt that I was accusing him of pushing a personal agenda; for him the wall is the property of the community and beyond the ‘control’ of any one individual. The identity of a researcher also shapes and effects the interview data. As Cochrane (1998: 2129) notes, researchers need to be ‘highly self-critical and reflexive about the approaches we adopt.’ A reflexive consideration of the research process engages with the researcher’s positionality and the power relations between the interviewer and the informants (Fontana and Frey 1998; Kitchen and Tate 2000; Valentine 2005). As many respondents were civil servants, policy makers or established community leaders, I often felt that I was in a subordinate position to my interviewees. However, this was not always the case. In some situations I was treated as a ‘high-status’ researcher, and unrealistic expectations were displayed concerning my ability to influence policy and practice. The negotiation of these interviewee expectations represented one of the most difficult challenges in the research process. An example of this was when an anti-racist group phoned me a few weeks after our interview asking what I would suggest they do to help address problems of racism in their area and aid the integration of new migrants. In this case I told them that I was not an expert, and gave them names and numbers of contacts in Belfast who I thought would be in a better position to assist them. In certain respects my experience of conducting research in Northern Ireland resonates with Katz’s (1994: 72) description of her subject position as constituted in ‘spaces of betweenness’. Coming from the South I was neither an insider nor an outsider in 64 Northern Ireland, and, although I was able to settle quickly in Belfast, it was obvious to interviewees that I was not from there. In some instances talking about my background, and how I came to the research topic, helped further in the building of rapport. There was never any question of attempting to suppress my identity as an Irish Catholic. My accent clearly marked me as coming from the Republic of Ireland and, by extension, being Catholic.19 On occasions the answers given and the language used suggested to me that my ‘community background’ had some effect on responses.20 For example, one government interviewee who grew up in a Republican area of Belfast often referred to our common religious background (‘we’) during the interview. As Gillian Rose (1997) argues, similarity is not a prerequisite for successful interviewing. It is possible to develop a positive relationship and mutual understanding across social differences. Prior to undertaking the study, I was reasonably concerned about the prospect of conducting research in areas where I might have been received with hostility, for example in Loyalist communities. In practice, I felt that as my religious identity and my origin was so obvious, the process of ‘Telling’ (Burton 1979) was rarely activated. This is not to argue that interviewees did not respond to my identity, but rather that they did not spend time trying to figure it out as they might have done if I was Northern Irish. I also found that some interviewees responded to my identity by trying to show how ‘open’ they were. For example, one interviewee insisted on ending our interview with a drink in a local bar. In this bar, which has well-known links with Loyalist paramilitaries, he talked about his love for Dublin city, an ex- girlfriend from County Kerry and the great time to be had in the bar on Saturday night.21 I interpreted the fact that that he wanted to show me off in his local as a sign of trust, especially as everyone in earshot would have known I was Catholic. Despite this, the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) insignia on the frosted glass of the front door and the bar’s reputation left me feeling very uncomfortable and I was glad to leave when I had finished my pint. 19 The vast majority of the population of the Republic of Ireland are Catholic, and the general assumption in Northern Ireland is that anyone from south of the border is a Catholic. 20 ‘Community background’ is a euphemism for religious identity often employed in Northern Ireland (see Coakley (2007) and Chapter Five). 21 The bar in question, ‘the Rex’, is mentioned in Gallaher and Shirlow (2006: 164) as a UVF-affiliated bar outside which gun shots broke out during the Loyalist feud on the Shankill in 2000. 65 3.4.3. Transcribing and analysing interview data The transcription of audio recordings is an important part of the research process. There exists no accepted standard for transcription (Flick 1998), instead it is generally agreed that in terms of time and energy it is best to transcribe only as exactly as the research question requires (Crang 2005). As this study involved discourse analysis, I decided that a rigorous method of transcription would be necessary. All statements made by both the respondent and myself were noted in full, with significant pauses and breaks included (Silverman 1983). Although this was very time consuming (it took approximately eight hours to transcribe each interview), this produced the type of comprehensive, well- ordered data needed for discourse analysis.22 I transcribed two interviews at the end of September 2005, and this allowed me to improve my interview techniques and to rephrase questions in my interview schedule that interviewees found difficult to understand. The rest of the transcription was conducted during 2006. Through the transcription process I became more familiar with the material, and noted emerging themes during the transcription that often informed later coding and textual analysis. While transcribing I often consulted context notes made during the interviews that detailed non-verbal communication such as body movements and facial expressions that the audio recording could not pick up on (Gorden 1980). These notes helped me to understand the context of the interview I was transcribing, and provided useful supplementary evidence used during later analysis of interview data. At the same time I paid attention to printed materials given to me by interviewees. As well as policy documents, I analysed the discourse of internal memos and relevant speeches; integrating this material alongside the interview data. Although I was obviously personally involved in the interpretation of interview data, many reports of qualitative analysis assume the researcher to be an unbiased ‘scientist’ reporting on the empirical ‘reality’ of the social phenomenon under investigation (Fontana and Frey 2000). Challenges to these positivist accounts have stressed the situatedness of knowledge and the role of the researcher in its production. As Norman Denizen (1998: 313) notes; ‘[i]n the social sciences there is only interpretation. Nothing 22 I personally transcribed all interviews. 66 speaks for itself.’ Hermeneutics, the study of interpretation, focuses attention on the role played by social agents in the production of meaning (Schostak 2006). As I began to sift through and ‘interpret’ the interview data, I was intimately involved in the construction of narratives or ‘tales from the field’ (Van Maanen 1988). I constructed these narratives as a means of grappling with the complex, and sometimes conflicting, stories emerging from the data. Rather than presenting the reader with an artificially ‘clean’ account of this process (Fontana and Frey 2000: 660), I want to draw attention to my own role in the process of interpretation and knowledge creation. There exists no single methodological framework for analysing qualitative data, instead researchers often use a repertoire of analytical techniques (Punch 2005). Dey (1993) identifies the key points of qualitative analysis as the description of the data, the classification of the data, and the establishment and understanding of the interconnections between concepts. In this study I used a manual coding method to code the data in terms of both theoretical concepts and themes and topics discussed in the interview. This allowed me the freedom to attend directly to what interviewees were saying in a given moment rather than relying on a fixed set of response categories. Although the data was coded manually, I decided that a qualitative software package would be useful for ordering and managing the large interview dataset. In September 2005, I attended a workshop at the University of Surrey on the use of the Atlas-ti program. This software has a range of applications, including auto-coding of data, but I was interested in its utility for storing interview transcripts and allowing for the attachment of open codes and memos to interview transcripts. As Glaser (1978: 83) noted, there is only one rule for qualitative data analysis: record all ideas. Making memos provided a particularly effective way of following this advice. While creating open codes, I used Atlas-ti to attach memos to pieces of text to reflect either potential relationships between codes or emerging ideas. After creating open codes and memos, I began to categorise these codes by grouping them around key themes and issues. For example, all codes which referred to aspects of policing and racism in Northern Ireland were grouped together within a broader 67 category. Kitchen and Tate (2000: 239) suggest that categories must be ‘conceptually and empirically grounded’; they must be connected to the conceptual basis of the study but also reflect the empirical situation expressed in the data. The categories I constructed were a product of both the interview data and the predetermined research foci. This represents a variation on traditional ‘grounded theory’ which asserts that theory must develop inductively from the data (Glaser and Strauss 1967). However, as Silverman (1993) notes, implicit theories often guide early analyses even in grounded theory approaches. In my study recurring patterns were identified following detailed examination of the open codes and memos. An example of this is the category ‘complexity’ which was used to classify instances where the complexity of institutional structures was referred to by interviewees. The identification of patterns allowed me to analyse interconnections between open codes and to build classificatory categories based on higher order concepts. The development of the coding process from open coding and memos to higher order abstractions allowed the analysis to narrow down on the material most relevant to addressing the specific research questions. In practice, the task of coding and analysing the data was seldom straightforward. As Mike Crang (2005) notes, coding is not an exact science, rather it is a creative process through which the researcher engages with the data to build an interpretation of the social context. Coding required a critical – and often reflexive – thought process and engagement with the data to spot emerging trends and themes. I used Atlas-ti as a database, as opposed to using the software to conduct content analysis or to build a networked coding framework. The ease of data coding and retrieval on Atlas-ti aided the writing process and assisted in the formation of coherent themes from the data. Semi- structured interviewing allowed me to understand how, where and why sectarianism intersects with multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. However, I was also interested in the social practice of these discourses. Consequently, the next section describes the collection of data by observation and the analysis of this data. 68 3.4.4. Observation As outlined earlier in this chapter, I conducted observation at a number of events. As an ‘observer’ (Jones and Somekh 2005; Kitchen and Tate 2000) at these events I spoke with individuals taking part in the festivities and recorded details such as what food stalls were present and what type of music was played. By paying attention to issues such as differences in attendance at these two festivals and the types of cultural practices engaged in, I was able to examine the operationalisation of a multicultural politics of recognition in Northern Ireland, and to examine the effect of sectarian division on these practices (see Chapter Six). Another observational experience, being allowed to sit in on a meeting of the Racial Equality Forum in December 2005, helped supplement interviews with policy makers and civil servants. As will be discussed in Chapter Five, the Racial Equality Forum is a quarterly meeting organised and chaired by the Racial Equality Unit in OFMDFM. The aim of this meeting is to facilitate information exchange between institutions and ethnically-identified minorities. At the start of this meeting, which comprised forty people and took place in the Indian Community Centre in Belfast, I was introduced as a researcher from the University of Edinburgh by the ‘gate-keeper’ introduced earlier in this chapter. I took note of presentations given and discussions which took place. My observation at this event improved considerably my knowledge of key institutional and non-governmental players and my understanding of institutional relationships. This was also a good exercise in observing first hand the complexity of institutional structures and the positions and opinions of different institutions and organisations. I also attended two launch events organised by anti-racist groups in West Belfast to understand more about the social context in which anti-racist representations were being produced and displayed (see Chapter Seven). The first launch event was brought to my attention by a contact in Belfast. This launch, for the ‘Showing Your True Colours’ campaign, took place in a secondary school in the Shankill Road area of West Belfast in November 2005. At this event I observed what took place and took notes of the comments made by speakers. Once the event was over, I introduced myself to the organisers, who allowed me to photograph the mural and consented to an interview at a 69 later date. The second launch I observed, held in March 2006, unveiled an anti-racist ‘pubs and clubs’ campaign on the Falls Road in West Belfast. Similarly, I recorded what took place and the comments of speakers and people around me. Observation at these events helped me to understand who was producing the anti-racist texts and the social context in which they were being produced and distributed. Listening to comments by mural artists and other speakers involved in these campaigns was an effective way of gaining access to the intention behind the images, and this allowed me to develop further the discourse analysis of these representations. In observation the main method for recording data is the keeping of field notes (Cook 2005). Through note-taking the researcher begins to see how experiences in the field are linked and related to theoretical and empirical issues. This allows the researcher to make judgements on what material is most important. In writing my field notes I strove to be as accurate and detailed as possible. I wrote up my field notes as soon as possible after every event. These field notes consisted of two basic components: a description of the facts, events, places and persons as well as my interpretation of these events, together with reactions, impressions and reflections (Corbetta 2003). The recording of observations through field notes facilitated the building up of a ‘research diary’ in which data obtained by observation was supplemented by contextual information and my personal reflections on the research process. The creation of a research diary has a long history in social science research (Altricher and Holly 2005). The research diary helped me to spot emerging trends in the data and identify points of interest worthy of further exploration. In terms of interpretation and analysis, field notes were treated similarly to interview transcripts. The research diary was entered into Atlas-ti and, as I read through it, free codes and memos were attached (see discussion in the previous section). These codes and memos were often linked to those identified in the interviews and the connections between data from both sources developed. Field notes primarily fed into my understanding of the context in which other data was collected. In the substantive chapters field notes are occasionally drawn on in isolation, but more commonly are used 70 to expand upon and support findings arising from other data sources. The following section discusses data collected from visual and other textual sources. 3.4.5. Visual methods The use of visual methods in social science research has become increasingly popular (Banks 2001; Barnard 2001; Emmison and Smith 2000; Jay 2005; Rose 2001; Schirato and Webb 2004; Siber 2005). Analysis of visual culture often provides empirical insights that are not possible using other methods (Barnard 2001). In this study I collected and analysed anti-racist murals, posters, pamphlets and other texts. This allowed me to investigate the interaction between sectarianism and attempts to produce anti-racist visions of Northern Ireland in media which have traditionally been used to reflect and (re)produce sectarian identities (Jarman 1997). The visual culture I looked at in this dissertation was either produced by grassroots anti- racist groups in West Belfast (see Chapter Seven) or the PSNI as part of a hate crime awareness campaign (see Chapter Six). The texts produced by groups based in West Belfast were collected at the launch events described in the previous section, given to me by interviewees or chanced upon during the research process. For example, at the launch of the ‘Showing Your True Colours’ initiative on the Shankill Road I was given a bundle of pamphlets and posters to take home.23 In the case of the PSNI campaign, I had previously interviewed the officer charged with co-ordinating the campaign and, after seeing the posters on bus shelters in the city, I contacted him again and he sent me a copy of the poster and provided information about its production and distribution. Visual methods have become an increasingly popular and accepted approach in both human geography (Ryan 2003; Thornes 2004) and sociology (Jenks 1995; Virilo 1994). Reflecting recent academic debates, I use the term ‘visual culture’ in its widest sense to refer to a plethora of different forms and media, including murals, posters, pamphlets and other texts (Rose 2001; Sturken and Cartwright 2001). According to the art historian 23 Similarly, when I interviewed ‘community’ groups they often gave me copies of their publications which I occasionally refer to in the dissertation. 71 Nicholas Mirzoeff, visual culture ‘is not just part of your everyday life, it is your everyday life’ (1999: 3). Images and texts are vehicles through which the underlying ideas, values and beliefs of a particular society or cultural group may be examined (Howells 2003). I was interested not only in the nature of the images and texts themselves, but also the cultural and social functions they perform and contexts in which they are embedded (Barnard 2001). The ideological power of images relies on their ability to produce specific visions of identity and social difference in the process of creating meaning about the world through the act of representation (Rose 2001; Sturken and Cartwright 2001). As Gillian Rose (2001: 11) argues, it is important to interrogate the ways in which images ‘offer very particular visions of social categories such as class, gender, race, sexuality, able-bodiedness, and so on’. In this research, I was particularly interested in the production of narratives of social difference and specific visions of a future, multicultural Northern Ireland in anti-racist visual culture. The first step in the analysis of visual culture collected during fieldwork is the development of a methodological framework (Rose 2001). Looking at visual culture is an exercise in interpretation, not a matter of uncovering the ‘truth’ behind an image. [T]here is no single or ‘correct’ answer to the question, ‘What does this image mean?’ or ‘What is this ad saying’ Since there is no law which can guarantee that things will have ‘one, true meaning’, or that meanings won’t change over time, work in this area is bound to be interpretative – a debate between not who is ‘right’ and who is ‘wrong’, but between equally plausible, though sometimes competing and contesting, meanings and interpretations. The best way to ‘settle’ such contested readings is to look again at the concrete example and try and justify one’s ‘reading’ in detail in relation to the actual practices and forms of signification used, and what meanings they seem to you to be producing (Hall 1997: 9; in Rose 2001: 2). Interpreting visual data involves the justification of inferred meanings with reference to both the external narrative – the context of the image – and the internal narrative produced within the bounds of the image itself (Banks 2001). Earlier in this chapter I outlined my methodological commitment to discourse analysis. Unlike other methods for analysing visual culture – such as content analysis, semiology or psychoanalysis – 72 discourse analysis broadens the analytical focus to include the social context in which the image is produced and circulated (Rose 2001; Tonkiss 1998). The first step in the discourse analysis of these anti-racist representations was to familiarise myself with the material I collected and identify salient themes and images. For example, as I read through the texts of both the West Against Racism Network (WARN) ‘passport’ and the Loyalist Commission’s ‘Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both’ pamphlet I noted the way in which attempts were made to identify racialised minorities with Republicanism and Loyalism respectively. Second, as discourse analysis explicitly focuses on the way that text and images are used to persuade and make particular claims to truth, I looked more closely at the use of pictures, images and slogans in my materials (Lynn and Lea 2005). Discourse analysis emphasises the importance of complexity and contradictions within texts and images (Rose 2001). As I studied the materials collected, I looked for these features. For example, in the Loyalist anti-racist mural a counter-intuitive notion of anti-racism as a ‘war’ is constructed (see Chapter Seven). As well as considering what is present in texts, discourse analysis examines what is absent and rendered invisible (Rose 2001). In reading for what is not said, for example the absence of a reference to racism in Republican areas in some texts, the construction of specific (often sectarian) narratives of identity and difference in anti- racist representations was examined further. Thirdly, at the same time as looking at the images used, I read through transcripts of interviews conducted with the anti-racist groups involved in the production of these representations and field notes from the launch events. This allowed me to understand more about the intended meaning of the images as well as the social context of their production and distribution (Tonkiss 1998). My analysis of images and texts also considered where they were located or distributed. As Lynn and Lea (2005: 45) argue in a discussion on racist graffiti in Glasgow, ‘[w]here it is located, when it was put there, and by whom, are as significant as the graffiti itself.’ As well as observing and taking photographs at launch events, I considered issues of location; for example where an anti-racist mural was displayed or a pamphlet distributed. Thinking about the placement of these representations in specific sites and contexts led me to consider their materiality, the physicality of the objects which carried 73 the images and texts (Banks 2001). Consequently, in this dissertation I approach objects such as murals and posters as simultaneously visual and material. In doing so I follow recent attempts to destabilise the traditional binary constructed between discourse and representation; between the visual on the one hand and the material on the other (Jackson 2000; Lorimer 2005). For me, this flags up the need to consider the materiality of pieces of visual culture and to examine them as objects whose material form may play a role in the organisation of social space (Jackson 2000). Visual representations and the objects which carry these images often play a crucial role in the material construction of boundaries and social identity in space (Cresswell 2004). In Chapter Seven, I argue that both the image and materiality of anti-racist objects such as murals and posters may contribute to the construction of sectarian narratives of identity at the same time as producing an anti-racist message. 3.5. Limitations of Methodology In this section I will consider two obstacles encountered in this research that, although not detracting significantly from the findings, do warrant some discussion and clarification. The first issue is related to the research design and methodological standpoint adopted in this research. As highlighted, I attempted to combine discourse analysis with an examination of social practice by attending different events and making field notes of what I did and saw. Although I was looking at practice, the field notes were themselves another set of words and statements which I analysed as discourse. As such, non-discursive features of the social context, for example the type of music played at the Samhain/Diwali festival, were recorded discursively. A less discursively-driven approach to researching social practice could possibly be to adopt methods from non- representational theory and attend more closely to the embodiedness of social practice (Jacobs and Nash 2003; Nash 2000; Thrift 1996; 1999; Whatmore 1999). One way of achieving this might be through the use of videoing to shift the focus away from discursive observations and towards the direct recording of what participants actually do. In this research I chose not to conduct video recording at different events as I felt that this method would be too intrusive. Furthermore, as a PhD student I felt that I lacked the status and standing necessary to obtain permission to use video-recording. 74 The most significant obstacle I faced in my fieldwork was unrelated to me or the research design, but arose due to the political and institutional context in which the research was carried out. At the start of the fieldwork period the Northern Ireland Assembly (NIA), the devolved legislative body, had been in suspension since October 2002. Although the Assembly was eventually re-instated in May 2007, while I was in the field (September 2005 – May 2006) such progress seemed extremely unlikely. In my interviews almost everyone mentioned the political stasis; civil servants in particular expressed the fear that the devolved administration would be disbanded permanently. As well as preventing the NIA from meeting and passing legislation, the suspension meant that all devolved powers reverted back to the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, and the responsibility for running the devolved administration fell to the Northern Ireland Office (NIO). This represented a specific methodological challenge as I was forced to negotiate and figure out how to report on a quite unique institutional arrangement. As Shirlow and Murtagh (2006: 35) note, choosing ‘the correct tense in which to write’ is a major issue facing any researcher writing about the political institutions of post- Agreement Northern Ireland. I felt that it would be disingenuous to attempt to present an ideal, fully devolved governing structure, especially given the very real possibility that it may never be actualised. Instead, I decided to detail the institutions and structures as I found them at the time of my fieldwork. Consequently, this research presents an account of these policies and institutions at a particular historical moment and in the context of a suspended governing framework. Although the research was situated in and reflects this suspended structure, I would argue that this situation did not significantly influence the conclusions I draw from my research. The main reason for this being that during suspension all devolved departments continued to function as if under the Northern Ireland Executive.24 The only significant alteration to normal devolved procedures was the replacement of locally elected politicians by a Ministerial Team appointed by the Home Office to oversee the day-to-day workings of the administration. The suspension 24 The Northern Ireland Executive is the executive arm of the NIA. During suspension the various departments continued to function as outlined in the Agreement and to produce public policy, the only major difference being that civil servants were not answerable to an elected Northern Ireland Member of the Local Assembly (MLA) but to an MP appointed by the Home Office. 75 is rarely referred to in the analysis chapters, as it did not have a major impact on policies, institutions and structures as I found them. 3.6. Conclusion In conclusion, this chapter has explored and examined central aspects of the methodology used in this research project, discussing in particular discourse analysis, the selection of units of analysis and techniques of data collection and analysis. I began by outlining the broad methodological commitment to discourse analysis adopted in this research. While this method is particularly useful for looking at talk and text (including visual material), I argued that it can broadened to include an analysis of social practice. It was for this reason that I decided to combine observation with other qualitative methods such as interviewing and visual analysis. The criteria by which sites and units of analysis were selected was clearly laid out to allow the reader to understand how and why I chose which policy documents to analyse, people to speak to and events to attend. Interviewing was the main method used, and so was considered in some detail. I sought to engage reflexively with my own positionality; arguing that my accent and language use identified me as a Southern Irish Catholic, but that similarity is not integral to successful interviewing. As well as interviewing, institutional and policy analysis, observation and visual methodologies were also used. While all methodological approaches have inherent weaknesses, combining them in this way strengthens the validity of the research findings. The use of different qualitative research methods allowed for the triangulation of research data as material gleaned from different sources was often used to support – or call into question – interpretations made. Finally, some of the limits of the methodology used in this research project were considered. Although the research took place within the unique political and institutional situation of a devolved, suspended administration, I argued that this context did not have a significant effect on the research findings. A number of other research methods could have been used in this research project. It might have been that non-representational approaches, particularly videoing, would have allowed for a less discursively-driven investigation of festivals and other events. However, I do not think the research has 76 suffered by not using these approaches. The broad palette of qualitative research methods adopted has provided a rich insight into the interaction of emergent multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism in Northern Ireland that the following chapters explore in detail. 77 Chapter Four Setting the Scene: An Historical Overview of Sectarianism and Multiculturalism in Northern Ireland 78 4.1. Introduction Having established the main foci of this project and the approaches taken to achieve the research objectives, this chapter outlines the history and politics of sectarianism and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland. The aim of this chapter is to provide the reader with the background necessary for a full understanding of the empirical material presented in Chapters Five, Six and Seven. This chapter examines the historical roots of sectarian division and shows how this division has structured social life in the region, both historically and into the present day. Political and policy attempts to manage sectarianism in this context, which frame later discussions on multicultural policy and institutional structures, are examined. The history of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland and the emergence of a concern with racism are also discussed. It is argued that multicultural agendas have emerged against this backdrop of increased migration and racism and alongside attempts to construct Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society that is seeking to move beyond sectarianism. The chapter begins by outlining how and why religion became such a dominant social cleavage in the North-East of Ireland. This brief synopsis of the contested history of the region traces the development of asymmetric power relations between Catholics and Protestants since the Plantations. The historical circumstances that led to the formation of Northern Ireland in 1920 are outlined. This discussion shows how the contemporary political formation of Northern Ireland arose directly from sectarian considerations about the viability of a Protestant/Unionist state in the face of aggressive Irish nationalism to the South. The social and political situation that precipitated the prolonged sectarian violence that became known as ‘the Troubles’ (1969-98) is briefly considered. This section ends with the suspension of Stormont in the face of rising political violence and the imposition of direct rule from Westminster. The chapter goes on to consider the policy and institutional framework of community relations that emerged in the 1970s as an attempt to manage sectarianism in Northern Ireland. This section highlights the key points of community relations policy and the changes in it since its introduction. It is argued that community relations in Northern 79 Ireland can be understood as referring to the management of relations between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists. This discussion is particularly relevant for understanding the context in which a concern for multiculturalism emerged in Northern Irish policy discourses (Chapter Five). The sections that follow (4.4. and 4.5.) outline the context of contemporary Northern Ireland through an analysis of the Agreement (1998) and the social, political and economic changes since its signing. It is argued that this settlement is grounded in the assumption that recognising and accommodating competing sectarian identities is the only viable means of achieving political stability in the region (Little 2003). The institutional changes ushered in by the Agreement are outlined as necessary background for understanding the institutional frameworks within which multicultural policy is enacted in Northern Ireland. The unstable political situation since the Agreement is also discussed as this is the backdrop against which the research took place. This section goes on to consider the continuation of sectarian division in Northern Irish society despite the significant diminishment in political violence (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). The changes that have taken place in Northern Ireland since the Agreement, particularly the depiction of it as a society trying to move beyond sectarianism and towards ‘normality’, are also discussed (Bairner 2006). The final section of this chapter looks at the changing histories and geographies of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. This section begins by charting the history of migration to the region. Although ethnicised and racialised diversity, for example the presence of Irish Travellers and the Jewish community, predate the formation of Northern Ireland, it is shown that the number and range of diverse groups has changed markedly in recent years. The history of migration to Northern Ireland is discussed in two separate phases: before and during ‘the Troubles’, and after the paramilitary ceasefires. For the first time in recorded history, Northern Ireland is currently experiencing net in-migration. At the same time the problem of racism has become a prominent issue in academic, political and media discourses. As will become clear later, the emergence of this multicultural face of Northern Ireland coincides with attempts to move society beyond the sectarian division that has characterised so much of 80 its history. The emergence of multicultural agendas in the post-Agreement milieu makes contemporary Northern Ireland a particularly good context in which to explore the relationship between multiculturalism and sectarianism. 4.2. A Brief History of Northern Ireland The history of contemporary Northern Ireland has its roots in the colonial project in Ireland begun over six centuries ago (Lydon 2003). From the thirteenth to the sixteenth century Ulster was the most Gaelic part of Ireland, the area of the island where English colonisers had met with the least success and where traditional chieftains retained most control (Bardon 1992).25 Although previous attempts had been made to colonise some parts of Ireland, it was only in the early years of the seventeenth century that a comprehensive, systematic effort was made to achieve this goal (Darby 1976). The Plantation of Ulster in 1609 was the largest plantation in Ireland and the most extreme. By 1703 Ulster was totally controlled by colonial settlers, and only 5% of its land remained in Catholic Irish hands (Darby 1976: 3). This massive social change removed the old Gaelic lords, introduced a new aristocracy and produced ‘a legacy of division and hatred persisting to our own time’ (Bardon 1992: 75). While English colonial settlements in the rest of Ireland were almost completely comprised of British gentry, the social make-up of the colonisers in Ulster was quite different (Buckland 1981). A conscious decision was made to attract all classes of coloniser to Ulster in an attempt to ensure their numerical advantage over the native population. This resulted in an entirely new community made up of both Anglicans and Presbyterians being introduced into Ulster; reducing the Catholic population to a position of servitude (Darby 1976). Society in Ulster, which had previously been strictly ordered by traditional Gaelic laws, became divided along religious and economic lines, between the wealthy, predominantly Protestant towns and the impoverished countryside which was mainly home to Catholics (Darby 1976). The presence of the colonisers was 25 The term ‘Ulster’ refers to two separate areas. One use of the term is to refer to the nine counties of the traditional province – Antrim, Down, Armagh, Derry, Tyrone, Fermanagh, Donegal, Monaghan and Cavan. The second usage denotes the administrative area of the state of Northern Ireland founded in 1921 and made up of the first six counties in the previous list. Following Darby (1976), the use of the term Ulster is eschewed in this dissertation in favour of Northern Ireland to refer to the latter meaning. 81 resisted by the native populations, leading to the Rising of 1641 and, eventually, the pivotal Battle of the Boyne in 1690 at which the Protestant King William of Orange trounced the Catholic King James I (McNally 2005). Although religious tensions remained relatively calm until the middle years of the nineteenth century, these Catholic/Protestant conflicts set the tone for the sectarian division and underlying violence that has structured social and political life in the region for over four centuries. The foundation of the administrative and political formation known as Northern Ireland has its roots in a series of major social and political upheavals that took place both on the island of Ireland and in Europe around the turn of the twentieth century. During the 1880s there was a massive growth in the popularity of the Home Rule movement in Ireland (Darby 1976; Lyons 1971). This movement, which was overwhelmingly supported by Catholics across the island, garnered 85 out of Ireland’s 103 parliamentary seats in the 1885 general election (Buckland 1981: 7). In response to this largely Catholic-backed demand for self-government, Protestants of all classes began to identify strongly with Unionism and the Conservative Party in Britain, particularly in the Ulster counties where they were in a majority (Buckland 1981).26 Consequently political developments in Ireland in the early years of the twentieth century began to take on two radically different forms. In the southern counties the defeat of the 1912 Home Rule Bill and the failed Easter Rising of 1916 set the scene for the emergence of violent Irish Republicanism. In response Unionists organised on a massive scale in their North- Eastern powerbase. From 1912 to 1914 they imported weapons with a view to a defensive war against the threat of a Republican victory in the south (Bardon 1992). During World War I, while significant numbers of Protestant Ulstermen were fighting in the British Army, a guerrilla war was being fought against the British administration by a resurgent Irish Republican Army (IRA) demanding an all-Ireland Republic. These twin track developments precipitated the introduction, in December 1920, of the Government of Ireland Act. This Act set up two subordinate administrations, one for the six Northern 26 As a result of the Ulster plantation, and subsequent migrations, Protestants were in numerical supremacy in the counties of the North-East where they constituted two-thirds of the population (the remaining one-third was made up of Catholics). This contrasted sharply with the situation in the rest of the island where Protestants made up barely 10% of the total population (Buckland 1981: 8). 82 counties and another for the remaining twenty-six counties.27 Although Unionists were opposed to any form of Home Rule, the option of self-government was infinitely preferable to control administered from Dublin and so, in 1920, the ‘state’ of Northern Ireland was born (Buckland, 1981).28 The partition of Ireland into the Irish Free State, later to become the Republic of Ireland, and Northern Ireland effectively divided the island along religious lines. The boundaries of the new Northern Irish state were carefully configured to ensure a stable Protestant majority within the new territory. For this reason, the proposition of a boundary that encompassed the traditional nine counties of Ulster – which would have contained 900,000 Protestants in favour of Union with Britain and 700,000 Catholics supporting Irish reunification – was eschewed in favour of a six county state with a religious breakdown of 820,000 Protestants and 430,000 Catholics (Darby 1976: 9).29 Cleary the Northern Irish state was a product of sectarian division, and the events of its early years reinforced the salience of this communal bifurcation. From the beginning of 1920 sectarian violence became a serious problem; beginning in Derry City, it spread to Lisburn, Banbridge, Dromore and Belfast before the year was out (Bardon 1992). The majority of this violence, which claimed 428 lives between June 21st 1920 and June 18th 1922, was carried out by Protestant vigilantes aiming to exterminate the unwelcome Catholic minority contained within the boundaries of the new state (Buckland 1981: 46). Sectarian violence greatly receded from 1922, as the reality that the Catholic minority could not be intimidated out of Northern Ireland became increasingly accepted. 27 The Government of Ireland Act established a new Northern Irish parliament in Stormont which, although its powers were not specified, was only allowed to legislate on matters pertaining to Northern Ireland; foreign policy, peace and war, external trade, exchange rate policy and monetary policy all excepted to Westminster (Wilson 1989: 65). 28 Northern Ireland is not, and has never been, a state (Coulter 1999). Instead, it is an autonomous, devolved region of the United Kingdom. However, it possesses many characteristics of a state, and the use of the term to refer to the administrative, juridical and political mechanisms of Northern Ireland is appropriate and is used in this dissertation to refer to these functions. 29 While this division obviously created a larger Protestant majority in the new Northern Ireland, it still did not divide Ireland along clear religious lines. However, even if Unionists politicians were in favour of it, a completely Protestant Northern Ireland was a practical impossibility. Although heavily concentrated around the border counties, the rest of the Catholic population was spread throughout the rest of Northern Ireland. As such the removal of all Catholics from Northern Ireland would have required displacement and ethnic cleansing on an unimaginable scale. 83 Nevertheless, the state moved to strengthen the Unionist position. In the same year, proportional representation for local government was abolished, and this resulted in Nationalists holding control of only eleven out of seventy-three local administrations despite comprising a third of the population (Wilson 1989: 68). Between 1922 and the onset of World War II in 1939 the political make-up and orientation of Northern Ireland was such that the Prime Minister James Craig could proclaim that ‘[a]ll I boast of is that we are a Protestant Parliament and a Protestant State’ (Buckland 1981: 55). Throughout the life of the Stormont government, as the administration from 1920 to 1972 was known, the Unionist Party exercised an uninterrupted hold on political power. During this time ‘[d]iscrimination became built into the processes of government and administration, as the government pandered to Protestant and Unionist whims large or small’ (Buckland 1981: 61). Alongside the gerrymandering of constituency boundaries to ensure a disproportionate Protestant majority, Catholics were discriminated against in housing, employment and other areas (Farrell 1980; Wilson 1989). Catholic’s frustration at their status as de facto second-class citizens began to be voiced openly from the early 1960s on (Hennessey 2005). Following the formation of a number of smaller pressure groups in 1963 and 1964, the broader-based Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association (NICRA) was created in 1967 with the expressed aim of bringing the Northern Ireland situation to international attention (Darby 1976). Throughout 1968 the Civil Rights movement, in particular a more militant section called the People’s Democracy (PD), became increasingly vocal. The angry, often violent responses by Loyalist mobs to political marches organised by PD in January 1969 led indirectly to the start of ‘the Troubles’ in Northern Ireland (Darby 1976). In the summer of 1969, as intense sectarian violence flared up in Belfast, an international spotlight was focused on the Northern Ireland situation for the first time (Boal 1969; Buckland 1981). This violence took many forms including the burning of Catholic homes by Loyalist vigilante mobs, random abductions, shootings and stone throwing. Westminster responded to this wave of violence in Northern Ireland by sending in the British Army to calm tensions. Although the army was initially greeted warmly by Catholic/Nationalist communities, during 1970 the situation deteriorated further as 84 sectarian violence intensified and paramilitary groups were formed in both Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist areas (Buckland 1981).30 The by now doomed Stormont government attempted to introduce a series of reforms aimed at pacifying the Catholic/Nationalist community and reassuring London of its competence, but the situation had spiralled out of its control and the patterns of sectarian violence that became the norm for the next thirty years were laid down. Residential segregation along religious lines increased dramatically as large populations moved out of more mixed neighbourhoods and into areas dominated by one religion (Compton and Power 1986; Darby and Morris 1974). In 1972, as violence increased exponentially, the British government abolished the Northern Irish parliament and introduced direct rule from Westminster.31 Despite efforts to broker power sharing through the Sunningdale (1974) and Anglo-Irish Agreements (1985), Northern Ireland was to be ruled from Westminster for the next twenty-five years, during which time sectarian violence and spatial division continued relatively unabated. 4.3. Managing Sectarianism: Community Relations in Northern Ireland As sectarian violence escalated, and with international attention firmly focused on the discrimination faced by Catholics, the government was forced to do something to address the political situation (Darby 1976). It was in this context that the framework of community relations was developed to manage Catholic/Protestant relations. The term ‘community relations’ first appeared in Northern Ireland in 1969 when the Northern 30 The history of paramilitarism in Northern Ireland is long and convoluted. Nevertheless, it is important to outline the main groupings. In 1969 the IRA, which had continued on in a number of guises since the War of Independence, split into the Official IRA and the Provisional IRA. This split followed anger in Catholic communities directed at the IRA who were accused of a failure to offer protection against Loyalist attacks (Moloney 2007). Although the Official IRA continued to play a minor role in Northern Irish affairs, from this time on the Provisional IRA became the IRA and, for this reason, in this dissertation I use IRA to refer to the Provisionals. The Protestant paramilitaries were numerically divided between the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) and the Ulster Defence Association (UDA). The UVF, which took its name from the organisation founded by Edward Carson in 1912, was formed in 1966. The UDA emerged in 1971 from a number of previously independent vigilante groups (known as Defence Associations) operating in Loyalist areas (Cusack and McDonald 2000). 31 There was a frightening escalation in the level violence in Northern Ireland at this time. In 1969 13 people were killed in political violence, by 1971 this figure had rose to 174, spiking in 1972 with 467 killed and 4866 injured (Wilson 1989: 300-302). During these years the number of killings motivated by a purely sectarian motive, such as the random abduction and murder of an individual from an area identified as Catholic or Protestant, increased dramatically (Buckland 1981). 85 Ireland Executive created a new Ministry of Community Relations.32 The following year a nominally independent Community Relations Commission was formed ‘to encourage the moderates of both sides to come together in some indeterminate relationship, and particularly to encourage catholics to participate in the operation of the reformed system’ (Hayes 1972: 11). The main aim of community relations, then, was to respond to sectarian division by promoting interaction and the building of positive relationships between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists. The community relations agenda in Northern Ireland was undermined from its inception as both the Ministry and the Commission ran into serious difficulties. The separation of community relations into two organisations (the Community Relations Commission and the Community Relations Ministry) with almost identical titles and purposes resulted in a Ministry engaged in fieldwork institutionally divorced from a Commission involved in policy work (Griffiths 1972). Although the Commission was given a wide remit to examine the causes of the conflict, ‘its independence was illusory and it was virtually ignored by government’ (Buckland 1981: 140). Furthermore, the central tenet of community relations at this time, the importance of promoting interaction between Protestant/Unionists and Catholic/Nationalists, overlooked the existence of separation in society and the dominant social and political reality of sectarian murder and bombings (Griffiths 1972: 129). In 1974, following five difficult years of generally fruitless work during which the political situation worsened markedly, the Commission, whose field staff numbered just fifteen, was abolished amid deteriorating relations between it and the Ministry (Darby 1976: 192). Just months later the Ministry was also disbanded, and its functions returned to the different departments which had previously held them. Despite noble aims, the initial community relations project was terminally weakened by a lack of consensus, institutional fragmentation, and, most seriously, the continuation of sectarian violence on the streets of Northern Ireland (Hayes 1972). Throughout the later years of the 1970s and the early years of the following decade, the community relations project became increasingly marginalised as the Northern Irish 32 The term emerged in Britain the previous year when a Community Relations Commission and a series of Community Relations Councils was created under the Race Relations Act (1968) to promote good ‘race’ relations. 86 conflict continued relatively unabated. It was the signing of the Anglo-Irish Agreement in 1985 which heralded the return of community relations institutions to Northern Ireland governance (Gilligan 2007). In 1986 the Standing Advisory Committee on Human Rights commissioned a report on community relations. This report led directly to the formation of the Central Community Relations Unit (CCRU) in the Northern Ireland Office (NIO) in 1987 (Gilligan 2007: 606; McVeigh 2002b).33 This unit was charged with advising the Secretary of State ‘on all aspects of the relationship between the different sections of the Northern Ireland community’ (Burgess 2002: 160). In 1990 the Community Relations Council (CRC), a state-funded but independent project development and grant-awarding body, was formed to assist in the promotion of ‘good community relations’ in the voluntary and community sector (Gilligan 2007). This ‘second wave’ of community relations is still recognisable in the present day and is qualitatively different from the programs introduced at the beginning of ‘the Troubles’. While a central aim of the Community Relations Commission of the early 1970s was to promote cross-community interaction in an effort to highlight the commonality and shared experiences of Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists, in the 1990s the focus shifted to exploring and debating ‘questions of local identity and culture’ (Community Relations Council 1994: 23; Gilligan 2007). Around this time the Cultural Traditions Group was formed to investigate and explicate the nature and meaning of Protestant and Catholic ‘cultures’ in Northern Ireland. This shift effectively re-inscribed religious identities in terms of culture and tradition. In practice this meant that while earlier community relations initiatives had sought to create something akin to a shared sense of identity between Protestants and Catholics, later work began to explain the Northern Irish conflict in terms of the existence of ‘two traditions’ or ‘two communities’ in Northern Ireland. This new focus on difference and culture was reflected in media discourses during this time as the language of ‘parity of esteem’ was introduced into political discussions on the conflict and its resolution (Nash 2005: 273). Although it has 33 The Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights was a body formed under the Northern Ireland Constitution Act 1973 to advise the direct rule government and the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland on issues of discrimination and human rights in Northern Ireland. The body was eventually replaced by the Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission (NIHRC) in 1999 following commitments made in the Agreement. 87 been heavily criticised in some quarters (for example, Rolston 1998), community relations remains the main policy approach to managing sectarian relations in Northern Ireland. The institutional frameworks of community relations in post-Agreement Northern Ireland and the emergence of a new term, ‘good relations’, to refer to the management of multicultural relations are examined further in Chapter Five. 4.4. The Agreement The roots of the Agreement, the political settlement reached in 1998 which has, despite a number of setbacks, held since then, can be traced back to a series of political developments that took place in the 1980s (Ruane and Todd 1999). Although it was denounced by Republicans and stymied by massive Loyalist resistance, in retrospect it is clear that the Anglo-Irish Agreement (AIA) in 1985 represented an important first step on the road to a peaceful conclusion to ‘the Troubles’ (Wolff 2003). As well as confirming the ambiguous constitutional status of Northern Ireland, the AIA consolidated the interpretation of the Northern Irish conflict as arising from antagonistic relations between Protestants and Catholics that could be rectified by full recognition of both identities in the public sphere (Gilligan 2007). The discourse of identity and recognition running through the AIA provided the political vocabulary that facilitated the Peace Process in the 1990s and the subsequent Agreement (Gilligan 2007). Furthermore, the AIA’s inclusion of an ‘Irish Dimension’ in the form of representatives from the Irish government and Irish-American concerns showed the IRA what could be achieved by negotiation and dialogue as opposed to violence (Ruane and Todd 1999: 5). Although sectarian violence continued throughout the later years of the 1980s, a consensus was emerging that political violence would never achieve the aims of either group of protagonists in the conflict (Ruane and Todd 1999). Around this time the British government began to move away from its previous position that Northern Ireland must always remain a part of the Union, and towards an acceptance that its inclusion should be based on the wishes of the majority of its people (Coakley and O’Dowd 2007). One upshot of this change in the political and policy climate on all sides was a renewed attempt to reach a negotiated settlement to the conflict. Between 1991 and 1993 88 all the constitutional parties in Northern Ireland entered into a series of multi-party talks with the British and Irish governments. Following an agreement of common principles between the moderate Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) and Sinn Fein, and discussions between the latter and the British government, the two governments announced the Downing Street Declaration on December 10th 1993. Although not a settlement per se, the Declaration did set out common principles allowing for such a resolution (Ruane and Todd 1999). The following year, the IRA announced a ceasefire, and was joined six weeks later by the main Loyalist paramilitary groupings. While these ceasefires did not hold permanently, they provided the relative peace necessary for Sinn Fein to enter multi-party talks in September 1997. After months of stalemate, serious negotiations began in January 1998 (Ruane and Todd 1999). For the next four months the parties argued, lurched from crisis to crisis and, finally, following two days of high drama agreed to the text of a political settlement, the Agreement, by the deadline imposed, Good Friday, 10th April 1998. The Agreement established that the constitutional status of Northern Ireland must be determined by the expressed wishes of the majority of its citizens (Ruane and Todd 1999). It explicitly laid out the machinery by which a referendum on this issue could take place, and also confirmed the rights of everyone in Northern Ireland to choose Irish citizenship, British citizenship or both (Coakley and O’Dowd 2007). The Agreement deals with three main areas: democratic institutions in Northern Ireland, a British-Irish Ministerial Council and Safeguards for Rights and Equality of Opportunity (Wolff 2003). The commitments made in the Agreement were subsequently passed into law by the Northern Ireland Act (1998). The Government of Ireland Act (1920) was repealed and a devolved legislature, the Northern Ireland Assembly (NIA), established. This Act brought to an end the period of direct rule. The Agreement radically altered Northern Ireland’s governing structures. The key structural division within the governmental apparatus that was ushered in by the Agreement was between the devolved and non-devolved administrations. Under the terms of the Agreement devolved matters, those concerned with economic and social issues, passed into the control of the Assembly and the various government departments 89 which made up the new power-sharing Executive. The Executive’s remit was ‘not only to administer certain government departments but also to promote cultural and political equality’ (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006: 36). However, not all powers were devolved to the new Executive. Instead, constitutional and security issues have remained under the control of the non-devolved Northern Ireland Office (NIO) that is directly answerable to the Home Office and Secretary of State for Northern Ireland rather than the Executive. These structural divisions are examined further in Chapter Five, which looks at the emergence of multicultural agendas within these post-Agreement governing structures. The political settlement reached in the Agreement is based on the principle of consociation, a particular form of government which attempts to unite divided societies by power-sharing at the elite level (Lijphart 1977; McGarry 2001; Tonge 2005).34 As O’Leary (1999: 90) notes ‘[t]he Agreement is based on multiple forms of recognition’ including Unionists’ recognition of ‘Nationalists as Nationalists’ and Nationalists’ recognition of ‘Unionists as Unionists’. The Agreement’s bi-national character (McGarry and O’Leary 2004) is founded on ‘the idea that the two major communities or traditions should be given equal consideration or recognition’ (Thompson 2002: 205). Underpinning the Agreement is the notion of ‘parity of esteem’. As Article 1 states ‘the power of the sovereign government … shall be founded on … parity of esteem and of just and equal treatment for the identity, ethos, and aspirations of both communities’ (Good Friday Agreement 1998: 15). Parity of esteem, a term Thompson (2002) traces back to 1993, stipulates the need to recognise equally both Nationalist and Unionist cultural expressions and political aspirations, and it remains common in political parlance in the present day.35 34 Consociationalism is a form of government involving power-sharing that is often proposed for managing conflict in deeply divided societies. As Graham and Nash (2006) note, Arend Lijphart (1977) outlines four principles of consociational government: cross-community power-sharing, proportionality rules throughout government, equality in cultural life and veto rights for minorities. The goals of such a system are political stability and the avoidance of violence by the encouragement of cooperation at the elite level. A central tenet of any consociational settlement is the need to introduce a power-sharing executive and to overhaul existing political structures to allow for competing political claims to be expressed (McGarry and O’Leary 2004). 35 A good example of parity of esteem (and the limits of it) is the Agreement’s commitment to linguistic diversity. The Agreement pledges to support both the Irish language and Ulster-Scots, despite the questionable status of the latter as a distinct language. Consequently all official documents and parliamentary proceedings must be translated in three languages: English, Irish and Ulster-Scots (see Nic Craith (2002) for a detailed discussion on Ulster-Scots). 90 The philosophical and pragmatic basis of the Agreement rests on the assumption that power-sharing and equal recognition and representation are the most efficient ways to ensure broad Nationalist and Unionist support for the political institutions and foster peace rather than violence (Thompson 2002). In accordance with this principle, it was stipulated that both communal groupings should be equally privileged within the new institutional framework for governing Northern Ireland. Alongside cultural commitments, such as the provision of funding for both Irish and Ulster-Scots languages, the Agreement introduced a unique voting system aimed at ensuring cross- community support for all proposed measures. It is written into law that all representatives elected to the Assembly must formally declare themselves Nationalist, or Unionist or Other. For a bill in the Northern Irish Assembly to be passed into law it requires the support of at least 60% of one half of the Nationalist/Unionist blocs and at least 40% of the other half (Little 2003). Although this procedure effectively removes the political power of all those who designate themselves Other, it was hoped that it would encourage political stability by giving Nationalists and Unionists an equal investment in the governing of Northern Ireland (Thompson 2002). Despite setbacks, which shall be discussed in the next section, the Agreement, the first bi-latterly negotiated political settlement in Northern Ireland, did open up the possibility for a successful, peaceful resolution to ‘the Troubles’ (Cox, Guelke and Stephen 2006). 4.5. After the Agreement Although the Agreement precipitated the end of the endemic sectarian violence of ‘the Troubles’, the period since its signing has been fraught with difficulties. From the beginning the process of establishing and bedding in the new political institutions was particularly treacherous (Cox, Guelke and Stephen 2006). In accordance with rules laid down in the Agreement, elections were held on June 25th 1998. These elections saw the two moderate parties, the SDLP and the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), emerge as the largest forces in the new NIA (Tonge 2006). The Assembly met in ‘shadow’ form on June 1st 1999: full powers were only devolved on December 2nd. Problems quickly arose with the new power-sharing structures. The UUP’s narrow majority within the Unionist 91 bloc threatened to undermine the settlement’s power-sharing basis.36 Disagreements over parliamentary procedures laid down in the Agreement, as well as concerns over IRA decommissioning, effectively stymied political development and led to extended periods of stasis. Over the following three years the Assembly sat only intermittently, and the increasingly strained relations between the UUP and Sinn Fein led to four separate suspensions.37 During these suspensions all devolved powers reverted back to the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, and responsibility for running the devolved administration fell to the NIO. Although Sinn Fein and Ian Paisley’s Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) emerged as the two largest parties in the NIA after the 2003 plebiscite, the two parties refused to negotiate with one another and power-sharing remained in hiatus. Finally, over three years later, the DUP and Sinn Fein began the talks which led to the St. Andrews Agreement and, from that, the holding of fresh elections and the reinstating of power-sharing in May 2007. That the DUP and Sinn Fein, parties whose support is drawn almost exclusively from one ‘community’, have emerged as the dominant players in the NIA has been interpreted as a signal that the Agreement has led to a deepening, rather than a transcending, of sectarian politics (Graham and Nash 2006; Tonge 2006). This entrenchment of sectarian division has been noted in other areas too. Residential segregation intensified dramatically over the course of ‘the Troubles’ and has changed little since the Agreement (Boal 2002; Boal and Douglas 1982; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). In fact many areas of Belfast have become more segregated over the last ten years (Murtagh and Keaveney 2006). The number of ‘peacewalls’, metal barriers erected at contentious interfaces where Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist residential communities meet, has actually increased steadily throughout the lifespan of the peace process (McPeake 2000; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). This increase in peacewalls, coupled with 36 The results of the 1998 Northern Ireland Assembly elections gave the pro-Agreement Unionists (made up of the UUP and the UVF-aligned Progressive Unionist Party (PUP)), thirty seats and the anti- Agreement Unionists (constituted by the DUP, the United Kingdom Unionist Party (UKUP) and independent Unionists) twenty-eight seats (Tonge 2006: 71). This tight majority was further compromised by the existence of a number of dissidents within the UUP who were opposed to the Agreement, in practice jeopardising the 40% of the Unionist bloc needed to pass legislation. 37 The Assembly was suspended from February 11th to May 30th 2000. It was twice suspended for 24 hours (on August 10th 2001 and September 22nd 2001) before its longest suspension from October 14th 2002 to May 7th 2007 in the wake of accusations that an IRA spy ring was operating in Stormont. 92 the increased visibility of micro-level conflicts across the interface in areas such as North Belfast (Ó Dochartaigh 2007; Shirlow 2003), seems to contradict the assumption that sectarian segregation and the accompanying politics of territory is a thing of the past (Chan 2006; Murtagh 2002). Sectarian cleavages are not only resilient in residential spaces. Although legislation designed to prevent workplace discrimination on the grounds of religion has existed since the 1970s (Osborne 2003), Catholics are still under-represented in the labour force and are much more likely to be unemployed than their Protestant counterparts (Osborne and Shuttleworth 2004). Educational segregation, which has been a feature of Northern Ireland since its foundation, has been particularly intransigent. There are separate Protestant and Catholic run schools, and, at present, only 5% of the school population are enrolled in secondary schools classified as ‘integrated’ (Simpson and Daly 2004: 165).38 Sectarian considerations also continue to structure everyday practices, as Peter Shirlow’s (2003: 84) work on the ‘two Ardoyne’s’ demonstrates. This study of Catholic Ardoyne and Protestant Upper Ardoyne found that only 20% of Protestants interviewed would use the nearby shops in the Catholic Ardoyne and just 18% of Catholics would avail of the leisure centre facilities in the Upper Ardoyne. Rather than the improvement expected with the reduction in violence, in some areas community relations between Protestant/Unionists and Catholic/Nationalists have deteriorated since the Agreement, and there has been a general reduction in willingness to engage in community work with the sectarian ‘Other’ (Hughes and Donnelly 2003: 11). Even the assumption that the conflict has gone away appears to be premature. Sectarian violence remains a societal problem, whether in the form of attacks on symbolic sites (Jarman 2006) or the continuing presence of paramilitaries despite commitments to disband (Monaghan and McLaughlin 2006). Although the dark days of ‘the Troubles’ have been left behind, sectarian division continues to structure social space and everyday life in Northern Ireland (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). 38 Since the foundation of Northern Ireland in 1920, the education system has been divided between schools dominated by a Catholic ethos (referred to as Maintained) and Protestant (or Controlled) schools. For a history of the education system in Northern Ireland see Simpson and Kirk (2004). 93 Despite the resilience of sectarian division and the absence of a functioning devolved Assembly for much of the period since its ratification, ‘Northern Ireland feels like a very different place in the early part of the twenty-first century than it did before the agreement was signed’ (Cox, Guelke and Stephen 2006: 1). The cessation of the sectarian atrocities which characterised daily life during ‘the Troubles’ has been a remarkable achievement, and one that must be considered all the more significant as it was thought by many to be all but impossible as recently as a decade ago (for example, Douglas 1998). The ending of ‘the Troubles’ has also provided Northern Ireland with an opportunity to re-imagine itself and its place in the world. Since the Agreement there has been a conscious effort to shift the popular image of Northern Ireland away from bombs and bullets and towards stability, prosperity and ‘normality’ (Bairner 2006). These attempts to reinvent Northern Ireland as a unique and vibrant place for living and working began in the early 1990s and have escalated since then (Neill 2003). This process has been facilitated by both the cessation of large-scale armed conflict and the economic upturn experienced by the region. As confidence in the Peace Process has grown, Northern Ireland, for years considered an exceptional case in the UK economy, has been repositioned as part of global economic restructuring and its formerly state dependent economy has been opened up to free-market forces (Jarman 2006). Economic investment has increased and flagship developments like the Laganside regeneration project in Belfast have been undertaken (Shirlow 2006). These economic shifts reflect the emerging construction of Northern Ireland as a society in transition from sectarianism to ‘normality’. Graham and Nash (2006) showed how post-Agreement social policy constructs Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society characterised by neo-liberal values and social identities. This notion of ‘normalisation’ proposes the replacement of sectarianism and its markers with ‘normal’ identities expressed in, and defined by, ‘normal’ capitalist space. As the following section demonstrates, these attempts to construct Northern Irish society as ‘normal’ have coincided with unprecedented levels of migration to the region. The multicultural agendas which are explored in my work have emerged in the context of a Northern Ireland that is increasingly conceiving of itself as ‘normal’ and moving beyond 94 sectarianism. Before examining the relationship between emerging multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism in Chapters Five, Six, and Seven it is important to consider the history and geography of ethnically-identified diversity in Northern Ireland. 4.6. Migration and Diversity in Northern Ireland Although groups not definable in terms of the ‘two traditions’ have always existed in the region, there has, until recently, been a neglect of the histories and geographies of these groups (Hainsworth 1998). This chapter has, thus far, offered little challenge to the popular depiction of Northern Ireland as a land divided between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists. The following section seeks to address this absence by presenting a brief history of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. This analysis of the history of migration to the region is developed in terms of two relatively distinct phases: migration prior to the Agreement, and population movement since the peace accord. The emergence of racism as a prominent issue in post-Agreement Northern Ireland (McVeigh and Rolston 2007) is also examined. These discussions are important as the multicultural agendas investigated in the chapters which follow have emerged against a backdrop of increased migration and racism in a Northern Ireland that is, at the same time, trying to move beyond sectarianism. The existence of migration and diversity in Northern Ireland actually predates the founding of the state. Irish Travellers have resided in the territory for centuries, often experiencing discrimination from both Catholics and Protestants (McVeigh 1992; 1998). There also existed a relatively small Jewish community in Belfast from the turn of the nineteenth century (Warm 1998). However, Northern Ireland only really became a site for in-migration in the post-war years, and the vast majority of these new migrants came from Commonwealth countries (Irwin and Dunn 1997; Jarman 2006). Despite images of bombs and riots beamed around the world, these new migrations, mainly from Hong Kong and the Indian sub-continent, which had began in the 1960s, continued throughout ‘the Troubles’ (Ellis 2001a). In terms of spatial distribution, the vast majority of these new migrants settled in the main urban centres of Belfast, Craigavon and Derry rather than in rural areas (Jarman 2006). Irwin and Dunn (1997: 10), in a study of the four main 95 ethnically-identified minorities conducted a decade ago, estimated that between 6,270 and 8,270 people identifying themselves as belonging to an ethnically-identified minority resided in Northern Ireland.39 Some groups, such as the Indian ‘community’, were found to display a ‘relative longevity in the region’ stretching back over sixty years (Irwin 1998: 187). The Chinese, the largest minority at the time of Irwin and Dunn’s study, hailed mainly from the New Territories/Hong Kong, and grew steadily throughout ‘the Troubles’ to number some 4,500 by 1989 (Watson and McKnight 1998: 129). During this first phase of migration, rates were relatively slow and numbers low compared with the rest of the UK. These migrants were typically from Commonwealth areas and arrived in Northern Ireland after having spent time in mainland UK (Donnan and O’Brien 1998). As they existed very much outside the tribal politics engulfing Northern Ireland, during ‘the Troubles’ many migrant communities formed formal representative organisations based on common ethnic or racial identities. Notable examples of such groups include the Belfast Islamic Centre (founded in 1977), the Indian Community Centre (1980) and the Chinese Welfare Association (1986). Existing beyond the sphere of electoral politics, these identity groups served a variety of religious, social, economic and political functions for the first wave of migrants to Northern Ireland. As detailed in Chapter Three, representatives from a number of these organisations were interviewed as part of this research. The significant numbers of new ethnically-identified representative groups which have emerged in the last decade, for example the Latino-American Association founded in 2000, reflect the changing origins of migrants coming to Northern Ireland which will now be discussed. Given its turbulent and conflictual recent history it is not surprising that throughout ‘the Troubles’ Northern Ireland was an area of net out-migration; the numbers leaving each year directly proportional to the level of violence recorded (Rogers 2006). However, since the Peace Process began this situation has been completely reversed. As noted in Chapter Two, not only has out-migration diminished, but Northern Ireland is now a 39 The main groups identified in Irwin and Dunn’s study (1997), in descending order in terms of size, were: Chinese, Indian, Pakistani and Irish Traveller. 96 migrant destination. Over the last five years it has recorded its highest levels of in- migration since records began (Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency 2006; Rogers 2006). According to the 2001 census, the first to include a question on ethnicity, 26,659 people living in Northern Ireland were born outside the United Kingdom or the Republic of Ireland: of this number, 14,276 described themselves as belonging to an ‘ethnic minority’ (approximately 0.9% of total population). In the years since this census was taken, the volume and patterns of migration have changed as migrants from countries without a strong history of immigration to either the UK or Ireland have begun to arrive in Northern Ireland (Jarman 2006: 46). All citizens of new member states joining the EU in the May 2004 expansion are entitled to freedom of employment in the UK. As a consequence there has been a significant movement of people from the A8 countries to Northern Ireland (Jarman 2006).40 These new migratory flows have changed the visible composition of Northern Irish society. New migrant communities have been created in areas which had witnessed only out-migration for most of the 20th Century (Shuttleworth 2007). While previous migratory cohorts from former Commonwealth countries tended to settle in Belfast and the large towns around it, many new migrants live close to employment opportunities in relatively under-populated rural areas. Alongside migrants from the former Eastern Bloc, substantial numbers of Portuguese nationals have also migrated, primarily living and working near the food processing industries of mid-Ulster (Shuttleworth 2007; Soares 2002). Similarly, healthcare workers from South Asia and the Philippines have begun working in a number of hospital trusts (Bell, Jarman and Lefebvre 2004). The changing demographics and geographies of migrants to Northern Ireland was neatly summarised by one interviewee. You will see and hear people of all cultures much more readily and it is not just in the more heavily populated areas. It really is much more spread out among mid-Ulster, obviously, where you have the factories that have been recruiting heavily from EU countries for a while and goes out to the West. We have got a growing Polish community in Derry and the borders, places like Omagh and Enniskillen, as well, where we would 40 The A8 countries are the Czech Republic; Estonia; Hungary; Latvia; Lithuania; Poland; Slovenia; and Slovakia. 97 have growing amounts of Eastern Europeans and things like that. It really is a Northern Ireland-wide change or development, which I think is a good thing because up until this new wave of migration it has tended to be quite Belfast-centric, this whole minority ethnic issue. ‘Oh, yes, we have got the Chinese community in Belfast.’ That was the only sort of obviously visible community, whereas now people are so much more aware of a whole range of nationalities that are here (Good Relations Officer, Northern Ireland Council for Integrated Education, 13/02/06). As a Good Relations Officer working in schools across Northern Ireland, this man of Chinese descent who grew up in Northern Ireland during ‘the Troubles’ is well placed to note both the changing origin and distribution of new migrants. This increased in-migration is very much a product of the improved social and economic situation created by the Agreement. As well as making Northern Ireland a more attractive place to live and work, the economic upturn since the Agreement has precipitated the need for overseas recruitment to supplement the local labour market. These two factors, allied with increased ease of movement, can account for the bulk of new migrations (Devine 2006; Rogers 2006). Until the next census (in 2011) it is impossible to ascertain the exact size of Northern Ireland’s ethnically-identified minority population (Rogers 2006) but some estimates have been made. As compliance with the Workers Registration Scheme appears to be low, Jarman (2006) used applications for National Insurance Numbers to estimate that the largest new migrant group in Northern Ireland is from Poland, followed by Lithuania, Portugal, Slovakia, India and the Philippines. These migrant workers are mainly employed in administration/management, manufacturing, construction and hospitality sectors (Jarman 2006).41 The Accession Monitoring Report suggests that Northern Ireland, at 0.72% of total population, has a higher proportion of A8 migrants than England (0.57%), Scotland (0.47%) or Wales (0.21%) (Home Office 2006: 9). Almost two-thirds of these A8 migrants are male and the bulk of these are under thirty-five with no dependents and work full-time in lower end occupations (Rogers 2006). Although these new migrants are spread across 41 From 2003 to January 2006 there were 12020 applications for National Insurance numbers from Polish nationals, 4987 from Lithuanians, 3605 from Portuguese, 3469 from Slovakians, 2486 from Indians, 1524 from Filipinos, 1358 from Latvians, 1338 from Czechs, 1317 from Chinese and 867 from Ukrainians. The A8 migrants are employed in the following industries, arranged in order of greatest number: Admin/Management, Manufacturing, Construction, Hospitality, Food Processing, Agriculture, Health, Retail, Transport and Entertainment (from Jarman (2006): 48). 98 Northern Ireland, between 25% and 33% live in Belfast. This suggests that Belfast has remained the main site for new migrants and has absorbed an in-flow of approximately 7,000 new migrants in the last three years (NISRA 2006: 13). As detailed in Chapter Two, there has been a significant increase in research on racism in Northern Ireland since the beginning of the 21st century (Connolly 2002; Gilligan and Lloyd 2006; Hayes and Dowds 2006; Jarman and Monaghan 2003). Over the last ten years racism in Northern Ireland has escalated and increasingly is being recognised as a major societal issue (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b; McVeigh and Rolston 2007). As reports of racism in the city increased Belfast, in 2004, was dubbed ‘the Race Hate Capital of Europe’ by the BBC (BBC Online 2004). More recently, Sir Hugh Orde, Chief Constable of the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI), opined that racist violence is the biggest threat to social stability in Northern Ireland (Kampfner 2006). During the period in which this research was conducted, racism in Northern Ireland often featured prominently in both national (see Figure 4.1) and international media (see Figure 4.2). Although these media discourses are often overly simplistic and sensationalist (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b), the argument that racism in Northern Ireland has rapidly increased is supported by PSNI statistics. In 1999/00 the total number of ‘racial incidents’ reported to the police stood at 93; in 2003/04 the figure was 453; and by 2006/07 the total number had jumped to 1,047 (PSNI 2007).42 These statistics suggest a doubling of racist incidents in the past three years alone. As well as having the largest concentration of ethnically-identified minorities, Belfast has been the site for the most number of racial incidents. In 2003/04, 217 of the 403 incidents reported occurred there; and in 2006/07 305 racial incidents were reported in the city (PSNI 2007). These incidents have not been spread evenly across the city. The largest numbers in 2006/07 were recorded in South Belfast (126), followed by North Belfast (82) and East Belfast (79), with only 18 recorded in West Belfast (PSNI 2007). 42 A ‘racial incident’, as defined by the Police Service of Ireland (PSNI), describes any incident with a ‘race’ dimension – it includes verbal abuse/threat, written material, graffiti, physical assault, attack on home and attack on property. From 2003/04 to 2006/07 the most significant increase was recorded in verbal abuse/threat, physical assault and attack on home (PSNI 2007). 99 Figure 4.1: Ulster’s minorities not getting justice, Belfast Telegraph 23.2.06, p. 9 The uneven distribution of racial incidents in Belfast is partly a product of the impact of sectarianism on racism which was discussed in Chapter Two (Chan 2006; Ellis 2001a; Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). The bulk of racial incidents have occurred in run-down Loyalist areas of inner city Belfast where there is a disproportionate amount of cheap and available housing stock (McVeigh and Rolston 2007). In one instance, in February 2004, the UVF stood down its local commander in the Village area of South Belfast following allegations of orchestrated paramilitary involvement in a series of attacks on the homes of people of Chinese descent in the area (Rolston 2004). The sense of alienation and disenfranchisement felt among Loyalist communities in the aftermath of the Agreement and fear of losing the area’s sectarian identity have been identified as potential contributing factors in the rise of racism in Loyalist areas (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). That the majority of reported racist incidents have occurred in Loyalist areas is significant for understanding the background of some of the empirical material presented 100 in Chapters Six and Seven. It is against this backdrop of increased migration and racism that some of the multicultural agendas examined in this dissertation have emerged. Figure 4.2: Loyalists blamed for migrant attacks, The Guardian 30.5.06, p 8 4.7. Conclusion In conclusion, the brief historical overview presented in this chapter has shown that up to, and including, the present day sectarianism has been deeply embedded in Northern Irish politics and society. Stratification along religious lines has had a serious impact on society here since the Ulster Plantations of the seventeenth century. This chapter argued that Northern Ireland itself is a product of sectarian division, and that, after its foundation in 1920, discrimination against Catholics became a salient feature of governing processes and procedures. Catholic disaffection at this state of affairs led, indirectly, to the start of ‘the Troubles’ and the widespread sectarian violence for which Northern Ireland was to become infamous. 101 This chapter argued that attempts to manage sectarian relations and broker peace in Northern Ireland have tended to prioritise the recognition and accommodation of competing sectarian identities. In an effort to better manage Catholic/Protestant relations, community relations institutions and apparatuses were introduced in 1969. After falling out of favour for over fifteen years, community relations re-emerged at the end of the 1980s and remains the dominant policy position with regard to sectarianism in Northern Ireland. The Agreement, which established the framework for a negotiated settlement to the conflict, explicitly recognises and privileges sectarian identities in its institutional workings. This chapter argued that, in some contexts, the Agreement has contributed to a deepening of sectarian politics, and sectarianism remains a structuring feature of everyday life for many in Northern Irish society. Despite the new peaceful climate, sectarian division is still resilient in residential, labour and educational sectors. Although sectarianism remains a feature of Northern Irish society, this chapter showed that significant changes have taken place since the Agreement. The cessation of armed conflict has been accompanied by an economic upturn and a desire to move beyond sectarianism that is revealed in attempts to construct Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society. At the same time as efforts are being made to re-imagine Northern Ireland beyond the sectarian binary, the region has recorded levels of net in-migration for the first time. The history and geography of ethnically-identified minorities presented in this chapter showed that both the origin and number of new migrants coming to Northern Ireland has changed significantly since the Agreement. At the same time as migration has increased a ‘crisis’ in racist violence has emerged in Northern Ireland. Academic, media and political attention have all focused on the rising numbers of racist incidents, particularly in Loyalist areas of Belfast. Multicultural agendas that have emerged in Northern Ireland have done so against this backdrop of increased migration and racism, and in the context of a desire to present Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society that is moving beyond sectarianism. It is the interaction between these emerging multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism that is explored in detail in subsequent chapters. As this chapter has shown, the highest 102 proportion of both migrants and racist incidents are in Belfast, and this point supports Chapter Six and Seven’s focus on emerging multicultural agendas in this context. Before this, however, the next chapter examines the emergence of multicultural agendas in the public policy and governing structures for the whole of Northern Ireland. 103 Chapter Five Managing Multiculturalism in a Divided Society: Public Policy in Northern Ireland 104 5.1. Introduction Having outlined the necessary background in the previous chapter, this dissertation now turns to an investigation of the emergence of multicultural agendas in the public policy and governing structures of post-Agreement Northern Ireland. This chapter draws on an analysis of institutional structures and policy texts, as well as interviews with key civil servants and policy makers. It argues that contemporary social policy seeks to move Northern Ireland beyond sectarian division by constructing it as a diverse, multicultural society within which relations across various axes of difference co-exist. However, as this chapter argues, these policies are enacted within an institutional landscape structured by the central focus that is still afforded to sectarian (community) relations. It is shown that sectarianism and multiculturalism are mutually constituted in complex ways in Northern Ireland. This means that multicultural agendas are changing how sectarianism is conceptualised, but that these agendas are also frustrated by the extent to which sectarian cleavages continue to structure the institutions and practices of post- Agreement governing. The chapter begins by presenting a brief historical examination of ‘race’ relations legislation in Northern Ireland. I argue that throughout ‘the Troubles’ anti-discrimination legislation was focused solely on issues of religion and sectarianism rather than ‘race’ and racism. The lack of any ‘race’ relations legislation until the last decade is presented as indicative of a general tendency not simply to ignore all those beyond the ‘two traditions’ binary, but also to incorporate them into Northern Ireland’s sectarian imaginary. Since the Agreement this situation has changed, with the emergence of ‘good relations’ as a central concept in policy development. Good relations is a concept developed which incorporates not only the matter of ‘community’ (Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist) relations but also ‘race’ (multicultural) relations, and, in the process, repositions community relations as just one of many relations across difference that the Northern Ireland government has to manage. The formation of policy and political institutions aimed at promoting good relations is part of an attempt to re-imagine Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society after the conflict. 105 Acknowledging racialised minorities and ‘race’ relations (in short, developing a multicultural policy agenda) is part of this process of ‘normalisation’. However, as this chapter shows, these multicultural policy agendas are enacted within a complex, fragmented institutional structure divided between a number of different agencies and administrations. Furthermore, the political institutions laid down by the Agreement reproduce sectarian divisions and privilege the problem of Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist relations. This argument is supported by a detailed account of how those respondents who selected ‘no religion’ or chose not to answer the religious question in the 2001 Northern Ireland census were reallocated into sectarian communal groups based on their perceived ‘community background’. Thus, despite commitments to the building of a ‘normal’, socially cohesive Northern Ireland based on pluralism and multiculturalism, the sectarian imagination remains within the structures and practices of post-Agreement governing. 5.2. ‘Race’ Relations Policy during ‘the Troubles’ While ‘race’ relations has remained a key legislative and policy term in Britain for over forty years (see Chapter Two), the history of ‘race’ relations legislation in Northern Ireland is much briefer. Northern Ireland was explicitly removed from the key Race Relations Act (RRA) (1965) for a number of reasons. When the Act was being drafted the Protestant dominated Stormont Government requested that Northern Ireland be excluded on the grounds that religion, rather than ‘race’, represented the most serious locus of discrimination (Dickey 1972). The public stance of the Stormont Government was that ‘race’ was not an issue worthy of legislative attention owing to the very low level of immigration and the absence of racialised violence on anything like the scale witnessed in other parts of the UK. This was the dominant position for the next twenty years, and is echoed in a 1992 Consultative Document entitled Race Relations in Northern Ireland which explored the possibility of bringing Northern Irish legislation in line with the rest of the UK. In the foreword of this document the then Secretary of State Sir Patrick Mayhew makes the following comments on ‘race’ relations legislation in Northern Ireland. 106 Although there has been legislation on race in Great Britain since 1965, a similar body of law has not been introduced in Northern Ireland. The main reason for this was that successive Governments believed that there was insufficient evidence of problems arising to warrant legislation equivalent to that in Great Britain (CCRU 1992: up). Despite the claim that ‘there was insufficient evidence of problems’, the exemption of Northern Ireland from ‘race’ relations legislation was not simply a reflection of a perceived absence of racialised minorities and racial hatred in the region. Instead, at the time of the drafting of the Race Relations Act (1965), there seems to have been a concern among many Unionist politicians that Catholics might claim the status of an ethnic group to use the legislation to seek redress against the government (Dickey 1972). As ‘the Troubles’ intensified, Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist relations became the main focus of legislative interventions, and the issue of extending ‘race’- based legislation to cover Northern Ireland was marginalised still further (Hainsworth 1998). From the late 1960s onwards, any anti-discrimination legislation advanced in Northern Ireland was concerned with sectarian-based discrimination on the grounds of religion. For example, by the late 1960s both Northern Ireland and Britain had established what were dubbed ‘Community Relations Commissions’. However, while the British Commission was established under the Race Relations Act (1968) and had as its primary remit ‘race’ relations, the Northern Ireland Commission (established in 1969) was established by the Community Relations Act (Northern Ireland) and was charged with improving relations between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists (Griffiths 1972). Similarly, the Fair Employment Act (1976) in Northern Ireland outlawed workplace discrimination only on the grounds of religion and established the Fair Employment Agency to monitor this aspect of discrimination in Northern Ireland (Osbourne 2003).43 43 Revisions to the British RRA in 1976 saw an increasing precision in terminology with the more generally described Community Relations Council being subsumed into the Commission for Racial Equality (CRE). The Fair Employment Agency, set up along similar lines to the British CRE, took on many of the functions of the ill-fated Northern Ireland Community Relations Commission described in Chapter Four (Osborne 2003). 107 The early 1990s saw an emerging consensus on the need to implement some form of stand-alone ‘race’ relations legislation in Northern Ireland (Hainsworth 1998). The Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights (SACHR) recommended, in its Second Report on Religious and Political Discrimination and Equality of Opportunity in Northern Ireland, that ‘race’ relations legislation parallel to that in Britain be introduced in Northern Ireland (SACHR 1990). A Consultative Document on the possibility of extending the legislation to cover Northern Ireland was produced by the Central Community Relations Unit (CCRU) in the Northern Ireland Office (NIO) (CCRU 1992). Eventually, in 1997, the Race Relations (NI) Order (RRO) was passed into law. The RRO mirrors the provisions of the Race Relations Act (1976), outlawing discrimination on the grounds of colour, race, nationality or ethnic or national origin. Under the RRO a Commission for Racial Equality (Northern Ireland) was also established. It is somewhat uncertain why it was 1997 that marked the moment when ‘race’ relations legislation was extended to Northern Ireland. Robbie McVeigh (2002b) argues that the mobilisation of civil society around the issue, in particular the Belfast-based Commission on the Administration of Justice and the influential Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities (NICEM), played a defining role. Certainly these groups began to petition government and supranational bodies, like the EU and the UN Committee on the Elimination of all forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), to have racial discrimination outlawed in Northern Ireland. With this international pressure the introduction of the Race Relations (NI) Order, according to McVeigh (2002b), followed. Another important factor in creating ‘race’ relations legislation was the 1997 election of a new Labour government in Britain. Unlike its Conservative predecessor, Labour was committed to supporting ‘race’ relations policy and legislation (Solomos 2003). Once in power it quickly moved to have the legislation, which had not progressed beyond the 1992 Consultative Document, written into Northern Irish law. Indeed, the fact that the RRO predates the EU Race Directive by some three years suggests that the extension of the British legislation to Northern Ireland was much more a product of Labour policy, as well as progress in the peace process, than pressure from the EU and the UN as 108 McVeigh (2002b) claims.44 The RRO is an important piece of legislation which provided protection against racial discrimination in Northern Ireland for the first time. As such, it signalled a move away from exclusively dualist imaginings of Northern Irish society and towards some nascent awareness of diversity beyond the ‘two traditions’, a movement that gathered speed with the signing of the Agreement in 1998. 5.3. From ‘Community Relations’ to ‘Good Relations’: Multicultural Policy since the Agreement The Agreement introduced a new, robust equality agenda into Northern Ireland policy based on a commitment to individual equality in all spheres of public life (Ellis 2001b; McCrudden 1999). The text of the Agreement itself is explicitly committed to ‘the right to equal opportunity in all social and economic activity, regardless of class, creed, disability, gender or ethnicity’ (Good Friday Agreement 1998: 17). At the same time as seeking to provide a negotiated political settlement to the conflict, the Agreement recognised wider axes of difference than just Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist. In the wake of this equality agenda public policy has increasingly espoused pluralist ideals and visions of Northern Irish society (Graham and Nash 2006). This section argues that an integral element of these efforts to construct Northern Ireland as a plural society has been the emergence of self-consciously multicultural public policy. As discussed in Chapter Four, community relations was the main policy approach to managing sectarian difference during ‘the Troubles’. It is somewhat surprising, then, that the Agreement appears oddly ambivalent about the term. In fact, the phrase ‘community relations’ only appears once in the text of the Agreement (McVeigh 2002b). With Section 75(2) of the Northern Ireland Act (1998), which was passed to bring the political settlement into reality, a new term, that of ‘good relations’, was adopted into the political lexicon. Specifically, the Act obliges all public bodies to ensure equality of 44 The EU Race Directive arose from article 13 of the Treaty of Amsterdam (1997). The aim of the Directive was to provide a common basis on which to address issues of discrimination on the grounds of racial or ethnic origin across all EU member states. The Race Relations Order (Amendment) Regulations (Northern Ireland) (2003) was passed to implement the Directive. This legislation gave greater protection from unlawful discrimination and harassment on the grounds of ‘race’, ethnic or national origins. 109 opportunity ‘between persons of different religious belief, political opinion, racial group, age, marital status or sexual orientation’ (Section 75(1)). The Act then specifics that ‘a public authority shall in carrying out its functions relating to Northern Ireland have regard to the desirability of promoting good relations between persons of different religious belief, political opinion or racial group’ (Section 75(2); emphasis added). This, as far as my review of policy has found, is the first reference to good relations in legislation. Just one year after legislation preventing racial discrimination had been passed in Northern Ireland, the Act heralding the long-awaited Agreement between rival sectarian interests addresses itself in addition to widely defined differences. As one policy officer put it to me in interview, the notion of good relations enshrined in the Northern Ireland Act (1998) was ‘community relations plus race relations’ (Interview with Head of Policy, Equality Commission, 01/11/05). The commitment to good relations made in Section 75 represents an attempt to move beyond a singular focus on sectarianism as the locus of discriminatory practices in Northern Ireland. As another senior policy maker commented: the legislation, the Good Friday Agreement wrote into it Section 75, which moved us forward in the sense that it recognised that there isn’t just two main communities, and it actually isn’t just Catholic/Protestant, Loyalist/Nationalist … It [community relations] wasn’t even reflective in itself but not only that, we are now getting a growing minority ethnic sector. We are getting a growing minority faith sector as well, so therefore it moved from community relations specifically to good relations (Interview with Head of Policy, Community Relations Council, 14/10/05). In this quote good relations is constructed as a vehicle for ‘moving us forward’; a vision which looks towards a fundamental shift in the conceptualisation of Northern Ireland. While increased cultural diversity is facilitating this shift, these changes are also having a significant effect on how sectarianism is being conceived of and approached. As the quotation presented above illustrates, the idea that Northern Irish society can be easily divided into two rival sectarian blocs is seen as unhelpfully reductive and is increasingly being rejected. We can see in this quote how the emergence of a concern for cultural diversity in public policy is providing a basis from which traditional, sectarian constructions of Northern Ireland can potentially be decentred. 110 The shift to good relations has not seen the complete demise of the term community relations; there remains a Community Relations Unit (CRU) within the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM). Nonetheless the matter of ‘community relations’ vis a vis other relations is very precisely circumscribed. Here is how the Head of the CRU explained the new structure: we have moved away from the old community relations idea which tended to be based very much in the two communities towards a broader vision of Northern Ireland where good relations encompasses more than that. I would see that program [good relations] as being extremely embracive in terms of all relationships; so the race, the marginalisation, the issues around community would all be part and parcel of that (Interview with Head of CRU, OFMDFM, 09/01/06). For this senior policy maker, community relations is an out-dated idea in which the word ‘community’ operates as a euphemism for Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist constituencies, and which has been replaced by the wider term good relations. Within the more inclusive concept of good relations, sectarian (community) relations cease to be the sole issue of concern for policy makers. Instead, these become just one of many relations across vectors of difference that the institutions of governance in Northern Ireland must manage. The discursive move from community relations to good relations, as well as a burgeoning awareness of ‘race’ relations, is evident in various policy texts published since the Agreement. In A Shared Future, which Graham and Nash (2006: 274) refer to as the key piece of post-conflict social policy in Northern Ireland, an explicit distinction is drawn between community relations and good relations. ‘Community Relations’ refers specifically to division between Protestant and Catholic communities in Northern Ireland. ‘Good Relations’ refers to Section 75(2) of the Northern Ireland Act which includes persons of different religious belief, political opinion or racial group (OFMDFM 2005a: 63). 111 In defining good relations in terms of religion, politics and ‘race’, A Shared Future commits to the management not just of sectarian (community) relations but also other axes of difference in Northern Ireland. On closer examination of the discursive terrain of A Shared Future it becomes apparent that good relations has almost completely replaced community relations as the all- embracing policy term. The policy’s full title A Shared Future: Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland is illustrative of this shift. Although both community relations and good relations appear throughout the text, the latter term appears much more frequently.45 This shows clearly the desire to position sectarian (‘community’) relations as one of the many relations across difference that the Northern Ireland government has to govern, as opposed to the sole and central relationship of difference. A significant feature of this is the positioning of sectarian relations as the same as or equivalent to ‘race’ relations, as in the following statement drawn from A Shared Future. This document outlines how the illustrative practical steps and actions, based on common fundamental principles, can be co-ordinated across government and throughout civic society to ensure an effective and coherent response to sectarian and racial intimidation with the aim of building relationships rooted in mutual recognition and trust (OFMDFM 2005a: 5; emphasis added). As I argued in Chapter Two, sectarianism and racism are distinct social processes. However, in the above quote, the two terms are collapsed into one another as sectarian and ‘race’-based ‘intimidation’ are constructed as equivalent. As such, A Shared Future is a document dedicated to envisaging what to do with, as it calls it, ‘a divided society that is becoming more multi-cultural’ (OFMDFM 2005a: 36). In explicitly figuring Northern Ireland as multicultural, the policy seeks to emphasise diversity rather than division, and to construct a vision of a society moving beyond sectarianism. 45 In A Shared Future the term Good Relations appears 155 times in comparison with 57 references to Community Relations. 112 While A Shared Future includes proposals for cultivating multiculturalism in Northern Ireland, ‘race’ relations policy is most clearly outlined in A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland, which, after a number of delays, was officially launched in the winter of 2005 (see Figure 5.1). Figure 5.1: Front cover of A Racial Equality Strategy This strategy was designed to set out aims and goals for racial equality in government, and work alongside A Shared Future ‘to initiate actions to promote good race relations’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 3). In this policy statement Northern Ireland is described as ‘becoming an increasingly multicultural society’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 27), and specific plans and policies are laid out for developing racial equality in a context in which discrimination on the grounds of ‘race’ was only made illegal less than ten years previously. The document explicitly sets out frameworks for funding ethnically- identified minorities and implementing racial equality across government institutions. In seeking ‘to develop good relations between majority community/ies and minority ethnic communities’ the policy explicitly aims to promote cultural diversity beyond the ‘two traditions’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 47). This reference to ‘majority community/ies’ is testament to the continued sectarian division of society, and the difficulty of promoting 113 ‘race’ relations policy within this context. However, the text reiterates key points made about the construction of Northern Ireland as diverse, and the emergence of a concern for managing many relations along axes of difference in the post-Agreement context. 5.3.1. Managing diversity as ‘normalisation’ The tendency to view Northern Ireland as ‘a place apart’, literally unrecognisable in comparison with other ‘Western’ contexts, has been common among many commentators (Little 2003). Certainly during ‘the Troubles’ many features of government and society were exceptional. Diplock courts, the presence of the army on the streets and metal detectors at entrances to shops marked Northern Ireland as a ‘state of exception’ removed from the ‘normal’ social space(s) of Britain and Ireland (Agamben 1998; Kearns 2006).46 Throughout the period from the 1960s to the end of ‘the Troubles’, British government policy towards Northern Ireland was often based on the notion of ‘containment’ – keep the conflict at a ‘manageable’ level and prevent further escalation (Gilligan 2007). As outlined in Chapter Four, following the cessation of large scale armed conflict and the political progress since there have been attempts to reconstruct Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ capitalist space (Graham and Nash 2006; Shirlow 2006; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). This discourse of ‘normalisation’ has replaced militarization and containment, and runs through much post-Agreement public policy and ministerial statements. The notion that Northern Ireland is in the process of becoming a ‘normal’ society characterised by tolerance and in which identity markers are no longer important is manifested on the first page proper of A Shared Future. On this page the aims of the policy are set out as follows: [t]he establishment over time of a normal, civic society, in which all individuals are considered as equals, where differences are resolved through dialogue in the public sphere and where all people are treated impartially (OFMDFM 2005a: 7; emphasis added) 46 The Diplock courts were established by the British government in Northern Ireland in 1972 following recommendations in a report by Lord Diplock. In these controversial courts trial by jury was suspended, and a single judge adjudicated and passed sentence. 114 Good relations in this quote is constructed as a vehicle which facilitates the progress of Northern Ireland towards ‘normality’. Furthermore, it is only by both possessing cultural difference and recognising this difference in the public sphere that Northern Ireland can move beyond the abnormality of ‘the Troubles’. This discourse of ‘normalisation’ is also evident in a speech delivered by the then Secretary of State Peter Hain on 21st September 2005. The vision we all share for Northern Ireland is of a normal civic society in which all individuals are treated as equals. Problems are resolved through dialogue and the state is impartial between contending claims. A Northern Ireland where the community or church you come from, your political opinion, race, gender, sexuality, age or disability makes no difference to where you are wanting to go (Speech delivered at Stormont Castle to senior representatives of Northern Ireland Civil Service, Source: CRU, OFMDFM). Again, Mr. Hain’s speech constructs an image of a future, Northern Ireland based on equality and respect for difference. A prominent feature of this putatively normal space is good relations, or the acceptance of a diversity of ‘political opinion, race, gender, sexuality, age or disability’. For Mr. Hain, the presence of cultural diversity and the building of a multicultural society is evidence that Northern Ireland is moving beyond the dark days of sectarian division. Clearly the shift from a past of violence and intolerance to a potential future of normality is linked in the Northern Ireland imaginary to the presence of other vectors of diversity. Indeed, in the course of an interview one (community relations) policy maker made clear the link between a multicultural Northern Ireland and a normalised (post-Troubles) Northern Ireland. She did so by recalling an incident at the height of ‘the Troubles’ when a group of Vietnamese refuges arrived to be settled in the region. When the first boat load was sent here, they wouldn’t get off the boat, they said ‘you must be joking, we are coming from war-torn Vietnam.’ The first boat load went back to Liverpool, which I found hilariously funny. That’s how bad it was … We are now, thankfully, I think, a growing society, becoming more normal, more multicultural. My view is 115 that that is a sign of progress and peace (Interview with Head of Policy, Community Relations Council, 14/10/05). Here multiculturalism is constructed as something that takes place within the bounds of – and is defining of – a ‘normal’ society, and is an integral part of the process of ‘normalising’ Northern Ireland after the conflict. 5.4. Sketching the Institutions of Good Relations The chapter thus far has indicated something of the complex interdependency between a post-sectarian imaginary and multiculturalist ambitions in Northern Ireland. This complexity is charted into specific policy statements, as I have shown, but is also present in the institutional framework in which these policies are produced and enacted. It is to this framework the chapter now turns. Of specific interest are the dispersed institutional responsibilities for multicultural policies, and how these relate to residual and emergent structures associated with managing sectarian relations. Since the beginning of ‘the Troubles’ ‘[a]n institutional approach has dominated attempts to build peace and political accountability in Northern Ireland’ (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006: 32). For example, power-sharing and institutional reform was a central plank of both the Sunningdale (1973) and Anglo-Irish Agreements (1985). As outlined in Chapter Four, the current institutional structure arises directly from the Agreement, to date the only successful attempt to instantiate power-sharing between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists. The Agreement produced radical institutional change (Todd 2007), and introduced a new and particularly complex state structure (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). As highlighted previously, the key division in this new institutional structure is between the devolved and non-devolved administrations (see Figure 5.2). The following sections investigate the location of good relations policy in this partitioned governing structure. 116 Figure 5.2: Chart of institutional structures of devolved and non-devolved administrations 5.4.1. Good relations in the devolved administration As noted previously, responsibility for economic and social matters, including social policy, rests with the devolved administration. All devolved departments are subject to the equality and good relations duties contained in Section 75 and the Race Relations (NI) Order outlawing discrimination on grounds of ‘race’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 42). Explicit responsibility for good relations policy rests with the key ministry of the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM).47 The department is separated into a series of services and directorates, one of which is the Equality 47 As the policy driver of the devolved administration, OFMDFM is the lead department for much post- Agreement public policy. OFMDFM is here described as a ‘key ministry’ as it has a very wide range of responsibilities, including designing a Programme for Government which sets budgets and priorities for all departments. It is also unique in that it is not run by a single Nationalist or Unionist minister, but rather jointly run by two junior ministers; one from each bloc. Although this joint working may help promote cross-community partnership in government, this situation also demonstrates how those groups and individuals not accommodated within the Nationalist and Unionist blocs are marginalised in post- Agreement governing apparatus’. Northern Ireland Office (N.I.O.) Secretary of State Home Office Non- Devolved Devolved Northern Ireland Assembly (N.I.A.) Northern Ireland Executive (NIE) Devolved Departments Social Development Health Regional Development Finance Environment Enterprise, Trade and Investment Employment and Learning Education Culture, Arts and Leisure Agriculture and Rural Development OF MD FM Political Directorate Policing and Security Directorate Criminal Justice Directorate Central Services Directorate Information Service Directorate 117 Directorate (see Figure 5.3). Setting policy for the social relations that are subsumed by the term good relations is confined specifically to two of the units operating within the Good Relations and Reconciliation Division of this directorate: the Racial Equality Unit (REU) and the Community Relations Unit (CRU) (see Figure 5.3). Off ice of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM) Equa lity Directorate Equality and Rights Division Equality and Social Need Division Good Relations and Reconciliation Division Communit y Relations Unit Race Equality Unit Victims UnitChildren and You ng People’s Unit . Figure 5.3: The Equality Directorate in OFMDFM with sub-divisions of Good Relations and Reconciliation Division shown (CRU and REU outlined in red) As well as authoring the policy text A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland (Figure 5.1), the REU is the main political institution concerned with ‘race’ relations policy in the devolved administration.48 The unit was founded ‘to reduce social exclusion among minority ethnic people’, and the story of its emergence illustrates well the ways in which a post-sectarian imaginary of Northern Ireland is linked to an emergent multiculturalism (OFMDFM internal memo 2000). The REU developed out of a working group established just prior to the Agreement, in March 1998, by the incoming Labour government. As part of the re-launch of the Targeting Social Need (TSN) Policy, which aimed to reduce socio-economic gaps between Catholics and 48 The Racial Equality Unit (REU) was formerly titled the Race Unit, this name was changed in 2005 following suggestions from representatives of ethnically-identified minorities that the use of the word ‘race’ in the title was unhelpful. 118 Protestants, an Ethnic Minorities Working group was established (OFMDFM internal memo 2000). This working group noted that at that time no department had lead responsibility in the area of ‘minority ethnic issues’ (OFMDFM internal memo 2000). Rather than assign this responsibility to an existing branch of government it was decided to set up a separate unit within OFMDFM. An internal memo relating to this process makes clear the reasons for this decision. A separate unit was considered necessary in order to avoid giving the ‘signal that government was less committed to tackling inequalities experienced by minority ethnic people than dealing with gender inequality or relationships between Catholics and Protestants’ (OFMDFM internal memo 2000: 2). This led to the creation of the Racial Equality Unit; a small unit comprising only five or six people located within the Equality Directorate of OFMDFM. The formation of the REU in 2002 supports the contention made earlier in this chapter that ‘race’ relations policy only really emerged in the wake of the Agreement and from policies put forward by the incoming Labour government. It also confirms the way in which, in post- Agreement Northern Ireland, sectarian differences were self-consciously being repositioned in relation to other vectors of social difference. The Racial Equality Unit has a number of functions. One of its key early roles was in producing the original draft of A Racial Equality Strategy and circulating this draft for consultation. The policy which was produced following this consultation aims to provide ‘a framework that will allow us to tackle racial inequalities in Northern Ireland and to open up opportunities for all; to eradicate racism and hate crime and … initiate actions to promote good race relations’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 3). The REU fulfils a range of functions, as a civil servant working in the Unit explained. A central part of my job is to promote the Racial Equality Strategy across the departments within the NI administration. This involves engaging with designated people in each department who are that department’s representative on the NI Racial Equality Forum and who are charged with promoting the Racial Equality Strategy in each of their respective departments. I am currently meeting with each to discuss ways in which the recently published Racial Equality Strategy will be implemented through actions within each department (Interview with Deputy Head of Racial Equality Unit, 12/09/05). 119 Another role assumed by the REU is to provide the chair for the Racial Equality Forum, a roundtable discussion which meets three or four times a year to address ‘minority ethnic’ issues. These meetings provide an important interface between relevant representative groups and political institutions such as statutory bodies and government departments. The Forum’s input was influential in wholesale changes made to the earlier draft Race Equality Strategy. Finally, the REU is also involved in the provision of funding to ethnically-identified minorities: for the period 2005-08, £1.7 million worth of funding has been made available to this sector in Northern Ireland (OFMDFM 2005b: 47). Some of this money has been used to fund specifically designated Good Relations Officers (GRO) within many of the larger ethnically-identified representative groups (for example, the Indian Community Centre and the Chinese Welfare Association). The aim of these GROs is to promote and build relationships between ethnically-identified minorities and ‘local’ (i.e. Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist) communities. As Figure 5.3 shows, the other institutional arm of good relations policy in the devolved administration is the Community Relations Unit (CRU). As noted in the previous chapter, the CRU was formerly the Central Community Relations Unit (CCRU) established in the Northern Ireland Office in 1987. Following the commitments made in the Agreement and the Northern Ireland Act (1998), in 1999 the unit joined OFMDFM, and its name was changed to the CRU. Comprising seven staff, six of whom are full- time, the CRU has responsibility for an annual budget of over £5 million. Although nominally concerned with the management of relations between Catholic and Protestant communities, A Shared Future also commits the CRU to promoting a wider notion of cultural diversity (OFMDFM 2005a). It is in the CRU that it is possible to see some of the practical confusion around the relationship between sectarian (community) relations and ‘race’ relations in the devolved administration. While in Figure 5.3 the CRU and the REU appear to be clearly demarcated, in their daily practice of policy implementation the distinction between the two institutions is less clear cut. This was evident in the following account given by the Deputy Head of the REU: Although they are separate units the Racial Equality Unit is working increasingly closely with the Community Relations Unit. The Racial Equality Strategy is designed to work in tandem with A Shared Future, so 120 there are obvious links between the two (Interview with Deputy Head of Racial Equality Unit, 12/09/05). Not only do the Racial Equality Unit and Community Relations Unit work closely together, often times their aims and remits are almost identical. For example, in the CRU penned A Shared Future over a dozen references are made to racism in Northern Ireland, and the document states that one of its main aims is to ‘combat racism’ (OFMDFM 2005a: 16). While the previous quote suggests that the links between the two units are ‘obvious’, the precise contours of how sectarian relations and ‘race’ relations interact is far from so. The fact that the REU exists and that the CRU has become concerned with cultural diversity beyond sectarian difference shows that multicultural agendas are now considered as an important facet of post-Agreement public policy. This development is illustrative of the increased presence and awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Irish society over the last decade. However, the retention of a unit engaged specifically with relations between Protestant/Unionists and Catholic/Nationalists in spite of the shift to a more encompassing notion of good relations is illustrative of the uncertain relationship between anti-sectarian and multicultural agendas in the devolved administration. 5.4.2. Good relations in the non-devolved administration As noted previously, although all economic and social issues have been devolved to the Executive, the administration of constitutional and security matters, law and order, criminal justice, policing and immigration still rests with the Northern Ireland Office (NIO). Some of these functions, such as policing, are reserved, which means that they may eventually be transferred in more favourable political circumstances.49 Other powers, such as immigration, are excepted – they can never be devolved from Westminster to Stormont. The NIO operates in support of the Secretary of State, and is directly under the control of the Home Office in London (see Figure 5.2). Although the NIO was created to 49 Despite the improved political situation at the time of writing, policing remains reserved and there are no plans to devolve these powers in the immediate future. 121 administer Northern Irish affairs in 1972, since the Agreement its role has been greatly reduced. The present incarnation of the NIO is split into five core divisions: the Political Directorate, the Policing and Security Directorate, the Criminal Justice Directorate, the Central Services Directorate and the Northern Ireland Information Service (see Figure 5.2). Together these institutions attend to non-devolved matters in Northern Ireland. The key point concerning good relations policy in the non-devolved administration is that all institutions operating within the NIO, including the police and the immigration services, are subject to Home Office policy. Thus, in post-Agreement Northern Ireland, different policies are often operating within both the devolved and the non-devolved administrations. As later sections show, while devolved policy may seek to promote cultural diversity, Home Office policy on issues such as policing and immigration may act to impede this goal. 5.4.3. Good relations in non-governmental public bodies Alongside the devolved and non-devolved departments there exist a number of important non-governmental public bodies in Northern Ireland, otherwise known as ‘quangos’. A quango is an ostensibly non-governmental organisation that performs governmental functions, often with government funding or support from supranational bodies (Wettenhall 1981). Such bodies are very important in Northern Ireland; they comment on and implement public policy and, occasionally, criticise government policy and actions. Figure 5.4 identifies the most important non-governmental public bodies whose remit includes good relations, the administration that funds them (devolved or non-devolved) and the relationship between these bodies. The following sections look at how good relations policy is located within each of these non-governmental institutional actors. 122 Equality Commission Northern Ireland Community Relations Council Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission Funded by OFMDFM Funded by NIO Memorandum of Understanding Memorandum of Understanding Figure 5.4: Key non-governmental public bodies in post-Agreement Northern Ireland Community Relations Council As outlined in Chapter Four, the Community Relations Council (CRC) was founded in 1990 to help address the tension and violence that characterised relations between Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist ‘communities’ during ‘the Troubles’. This non-governmental institution was charged with allocating funding to the voluntary sector for the promotion of dialogue and interaction between the two communities (Gilligan 2007). Although originally oriented around the sectarian division, the CRC has recently been at the vanguard of attempts to critically engage with the idea that Northern Ireland is composed of more than just the ‘two traditions’, and has become increasingly concerned with the management of both sectarianism and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland (Nash 2005). Since the Agreement the language used by the CRC has changed significantly, mirroring the general move from a language of community relations to that of good relations. For example, in A Shared Future the CRC is given a clear remit around the promotion of good relations (OFMDFM 2005a: 21). Policy makers from the CRC were involved in the consultation and draft phases of both A Shared Future and A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland (Interview with Head of Policy, CRC, Belfast, 14/10/05). Increasingly CRC policy and press releases combine anti-sectarian and multicultural 123 agendas. For example, a policy document produced by the CRC to aid organisations in producing good relations strategies argues for the importance of ‘understanding the part that sectarianism and racism play in dividing Northern Ireland society’ (CRC 2004: 5; emphasis added). The CRC have increased their funding for ethnically-identified minorities, and have provided monies to organisations such as the Chinese Welfare Association and the Indian Community Centre for events aimed at promoting cultural diversity in Northern Ireland (Interview with Head of Policy, CRC, Belfast, 14/10/05). Changes in both CRC discourse and its funding practice demonstrates that the organisation has expanded its focus beyond sectarian relations alone. Equality Commission Northern Ireland Like the CRC, the Equality Commission Northern Ireland (ECNI) is a non-governmental public body funded by the devolved department OFMDFM. It is responsible for monitoring and providing advice on Section 75 of the Northern Ireland Act (1998). As such it has a duty in regard to the promotion of equality of opportunity and good relations.50 The Commission for Racial Equality (Northern Ireland) was founded in 1997 following the Race Relations (Northern Ireland) Order. Less than two years later, under the terms of the Agreement, this body was amalgamated into the new ECNI. This new single equality body represents a movement away from the separation of multicultural and sectarian issues into discrete institutions. Relations between ethnically-identified minorities and ‘majority society’ are one of the many possible vectors of inequality that the ECNI concerns itself with. They have an explicit remit to promote ‘good relations between people of different racial groups’ (Interview with Head of Policy, Equality Commission, 01/11/05). For example, under the Race Relations Order, the ECNI has the power to prosecute on the grounds of racial discrimination. The Equality Commission 50 The ECNI is legislatively charged with ensuring equality of opportunity on grounds of ‘race’, religious belief or political opinion, sex, sexual orientation, age and disability. 124 also has the power to launch an investigation into a public body if there is evidence of a breach of commitments made in its equality scheme.51 While the ECNI is committed to promoting good relations between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists it does not have a duty in this area. The responsibility for these relations remains with the CRC.52 Again there is evident complexity around the division of responsibility for the management of cultural diversity and sectarianism in Northern Ireland. The ECNI is a product of the Agreement, and its nascent multicultural agenda. However, the retention of the CRC, which predates the Agreement and is a product of attempts to manage community relations only, shows that sectarian considerations continue to hold a central place in political institutions in the post-Agreement arena. Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission The issue of human rights in Northern Ireland has always been highly sensitive and politicised (Harvey 2001). In 1973 the Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights was formed to advise direct rule ministers on human rights issues (Harvey 2001). In stark contrast to the lack of debate about the adoption of equality legislation during the negotiations on the Agreement, the issue of the formation of a human rights body was particularly vexed. Nationalist parties campaigned vigorously for such a body while many leading Unionist politicians were opposed to the move. Eventually cross-party support for a human rights body was secured, and on 1st March 1999 the Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission (NIHRC) was established. The Secretary of State appoints the head of the NIHRC, and, as human rights is not a devolved issue, this body receives funding from the NIO. Although the prime concern of the debate around the NIHRC during negotiations leading up to the Agreement was on how human rights legislation would effect Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist relations, the very notion of human rights 51 All public bodies in Northern Ireland must complete an equality scheme and submit it to the Equality Commission for scrutiny. See Ellis (2001b) and Osborne (2003) for more detailed discussion on ECNI and equality schemes. 52 This division of responsibility between the ECNI and the CRC is enshrined in a joint memorandum of understanding (see Figure 5.4). 125 obviously encompasses differences and identities beyond the ‘two traditions’. Since its creation the NIHRC has ‘kept a very close watching brief on race issues and racial equality’ (Interview with Human Rights Commission, Belfast, 14/03/06). At the international level, the commission has been involved with international treaty monitoring, and has prepared shadow reports to the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD). A CERD sub-group is located in the Department of Constitutional Affairs (DCA) in London; allowing human rights institutions like the NIHRC to lobby directly the Human Rights Minister in the DCA. The NIHRC also comments on the human rights implications of both UK-wide and Northern Ireland specific policies, including policy on immigration and the detention of asylum seekers. The NIHRC also engages with local level ‘race’ relations’ policies, commenting on OFMDFM policies and sending a representative to the Racial Equality Forum (Interview with Human Rights Commission, Belfast, 14/03/06). Through these different activities the NIHRC are involved in the governance of the emergent multicultural Northern Ireland. Thus far this chapter has identified the key policies, institutions and activities pertinent to the governing of a multicultural Northern Ireland. To summarise these findings a table of key players/institutions and policies is set out in Table 5.1. From this detailed engagement with institutional structure and policy it is clear that multicultural policy, which was almost totally absent until a decade ago, is now being manifested in a plethora of initiatives and policies, themselves attached to different locations and institutions within the state. This multiplicity of sites is a reflection of what Shirlow and Murtagh (2006) call the ‘institutional approach’ to dealing with sectarian division and political violence in Northern Ireland. One legacy of sectarianism, then, is this awkward, unwieldy state structure that results in policy being dispersed across such a swath of institutions. As will be shown in the following section, this convoluted institutional structure structures and potentially undermines the realization of emerging multicultural agendas in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. 126 Table 5.1 Summary Table of Key Good Relations Institutions and their Policies Status Institution Policy Field Community Relations Unit A Shared Future Devolved Administration Racial Equality Unit A Racial Equality Strategy Policing and Security Directorate Home Office Policy Non-Devolved Administration Criminal Justice Directorate Home Office Policy Community Relations Council Equality Commission Non- governmental Public Bodies Human Rights Commission 5.5. Interrogating Good Relations in post-Agreement Institutional Frameworks This chapter has shown how multicultural-linked policy agendas are spread through and becoming part of different echelons and spheres of Northern Ireland government. The sections that follow show that this dispersal of policy produces an institutional situation which is difficult to negotiate in practice and has a negative impact on attempts to promote multicultural agendas. This section builds on material presented earlier in this chapter to highlight points of tension within the institutional structures and practices of post-Agreement governing which hinder attempts to move beyond sectarian division. 5.5.1. Fragmented institutional structure As the previous section illustrated, the political settlement in Northern Ireland has produced a particularly complex institutional structure. Although this structure was designed to manage Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist relations, it is now being called upon to construct and manage an image and reality of Northern Ireland as 127 culturally diverse or multicultural. The difficulties inherent in managing issues of cultural diversity in the institutions of post-Agreement governance are clearly expressed by the Head of the Community Safety Unit. The problem that we face in Northern Ireland is that for community safety to work in a kind of cohesive way it needs to have a landscape that isn’t completely fragmented, in the way that it is here. Issues like race hate crime really do need a joined up approach, because it is a complex issue. And it’s about prevention, support, protection. So all of these things have to be connected. Northern Ireland is a very bad place for things to be connected, we have so many silos, so many government departments, so many councils. I used to work in Liverpool, I don’t know how much you know about Merseyside but it has got roughly the same population as Northern Ireland, 1.6 million people. But if you compare the structures on Merseyside: there are five councils, not twenty-six (Interview with Director of Community Safety Unit, 09/02/06). The Community Safety Unit (CSU) is a department within the Criminal Justice Directorate of the non-devolved NIO. Alongside a commitment to tackling anti-social behaviour and sectarian hate crime, it is charged with trying to reduce racist attacks and manifestations of racism. However, the lack of effective connections between the vast array of institutions that make up the post-Agreement governing structure makes it particularly difficult for the CSU to fulfil this function. The fragmentation evident in the large number of District Councils, government bodies and other political institutions has a negative impact on attempts to address issues like racist attacks and racially motivated crime.53 Reflecting on attempts to tackle social exclusion through planning policy, Geraint Ellis (2001b: 407) suggests that it is ‘somewhat ironic that the political climate of the peace process that has allowed these issues to emerge on the policy agenda has also necessitated an administrative structure that frustrates the process of implementation.’ His point is equally valid in considerations of multicultural policy and its ‘institutional 53 A review of public administration was launched by the then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Peter Hain in 2005. As well as making proposals for streamlining measures in areas such as education this review recommended that the number of District Councils be reduced from twenty-six to seven. At present these recommendations have not been adopted, but it is expected that the number of district councils shall be radically reduced in the coming years. 128 implications’ in the post-Agreement context (Uitermark, Rossi and Van Houtum 2005: 622). Here the institutional set-up is so complex and institutional name changes so frequent that one interviewee who held a very senior position as Head of the Equality Directorate in OFMDFM was unable to remember the title of one of the units in the directorate! While the peace process, and political changes accompanying it, provided an opportunity to re-imagine Northern Ireland as culturally diverse, policy is often stymied by the high level of fragmentation and confusion within the institutional structures. These structures were set up by the Agreement to deal with sectarianism in Northern Ireland, and, as such, their fragmentation is directly linked to Northern Ireland’s older, sectarian past. 5.5.2. Separation between devolved and non-devolved institutions and powers The practical separation between devolved and non-devolved institutions and powers also undermines multicultural initiatives. A civil servant in the devolved Department of Social Development (DSD) explains this situation as follows: there is a Chinese Wall, if you like, between the NIO and the devolved administration in practical matters. If I access my computer, the devolved administration is all on one computer network, NIO is a separate one … I can log onto a dial system which will give me a telephone number of anybody here [devolved administration] but not there [NIO] (Interview with Director of Central Policy and Coordination, DSD, 02/0206). The existence of distinct computer systems and telephone directories attests to the sense of disconnection (a ‘Chinese Wall’) between the two administrations. This separation is not just cumbersome and inconvenient; it has important implications for an emergent multicultural Northern Ireland. This is evident in the area of ‘race’ relations policy. While individuals from devolved and non-devolved departments might work together on bodies like the Racial Equality Forum, the separate telephone networks are symptomatic of the lack of opportunities for everyday interaction between practitioners working in the two administrations. Also, as I noted in section 5.4.1., initiatives like the Racial Equality Forum are dogged by the infrequency of meetings (there were only three in 2005). 129 Consequently policy initiatives and advances made in one administration may not be carried over into the other, hindering attempts to promote best practice across the board. Similar difficulties arise with respect to policing ‘race’-based violence. As noted earlier, equality is a devolved matter, but policing and immigration, two areas which have huge implications for how multiculturalism is enacted and experienced, are reserved and excepted respectively. As will be discussed further in Chapter Six, policing has been implicated in processes of racialisation (Jackson 1993; 1994b; Keith 1993; Solomos 2003), with the existence of institutional racism within the police force emerging as a serious concern (Home Office 2000). As policing is a reserved matter, the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) is located within the NIO. This produces an anomalous situation whereby a devolved policy like A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland, which seeks to direct ‘race’ relations generally in Northern Ireland, negotiates a reality in which significant aspects of governing ‘race’ relations (such as the police) lie outside its jurisdiction and within the NIO. This means that social policy produced in the devolved administration to address specific issues and concerns around cultural diversity relevant in Northern Ireland is not necessarily implemented by significant institutions within this jurisdiction. Finally, we might turn to the area of immigration and border control to see further how the practical separation between devolved and non-devolved administrations shapes the ways in which multicultural Northern Ireland can be realised. Immigration is an excepted issue: Northern Ireland is bound to follow Westminster policy. At the current time this means complying with increasingly tight Home Office restrictions on the numbers and skills base of who can immigrate. The UK-wide ‘Managed Migration’ policy (Home Office 2005) was produced without policy makers in institutions such as the Racial Equality Unit having any influence over the content of the policy, nor were they given the option to opt out of it (Interview with Director of Racial Equality Unit, Belfast, 29/09/05). The lack of devolved control over immigration issues was given spectacular expression when, in 2000, asylum applicants were controversially locked up alongside dissident paramilitaries in Maghaberry Prison, Co. Derry (Tennant 2001). As this procedure was in accordance with Home Office policy for dealing with asylum 130 seekers in the absence of other secure accommodation, the Assembly, despite expressing cross-party condemnation of the practice, was powerless to intervene. It was only following negative media attention that the NIO established temporary holding centres on alternative sites in Belfast (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). This example highlights how, while OFMDFM is promoting pluralist social visions, Home Office policy can at times work against this and even, in extreme cases, produce examples of racialised discrimination unacceptable to Northern Ireland’s emergent multicultural image of itself. Although the paradox between anti-discrimination legislation and policies and racialisation has become the hallmark of the actions of many contemporary states (Kemp 2004; Lentin 2001; Solomos 2003), what makes the Northern Ireland context distinct is that the devolved government will never have the opportunity to determine its own immigration policy. This finding highlights once again the impact that the specific political structures and institutional frameworks that multicultural policy is being produced and enacted within can have on the policy’s outworking on the ground (Anthias and Yuval-Davis 1992; Ben-Tovim, Gabriel, Law and Stredder 1992). 5.5.3. Privileging sectarian identities in the Agreement’s institutions and practices Thus far I have shown how the making of a new multicultural Northern Ireland happens in relation to structures and inheritances associated with an older, sectarian Northern Ireland. It is clear that sectarianism complicates — and perhaps even thwarts — the movement of Northern Ireland to a multicultural future. Furthermore, there is some evidence to suggest that sectarian axes of difference are privileged over and above other axes. This privileging of sectarian identities is particularly evident in the workings of the political institutions bequeathed by the Agreement (Little 2003). As noted in Chapter Four, the Northern Ireland Assembly (NIA) demands that all elected representatives declare themselves Nationalist, Unionist or Other. In order for a Bill to become law it requires the support of 60% of one ethno-national bloc and 40% of the other, in the process effectively silencing the ‘Others’. Sectarian divisions are also replicated in the devolved Executive; here the eleven departments are a direct reflection of the perceived numerical division between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists (Ellis 2001b). 131 As Northern Ireland is crudely assumed to be divided between Protestant/Unionists and Catholic/Nationalists in a 55:45 ratio (Anderson, Shuttleworth, Lloyd and McEldowney 2004), the eleven departments are, in practice, split into six that are Unionist-controlled and five that are headed by Nationalists.54 Given these divisions it is clear that the institutional fragmentation and separation outlined previously must be understood as a product of the attempt to recognise and accommodate sectarian political identities. Reflecting on this situation, Shirlow and Murtagh (2006: 35) conclude that ‘[t]he Agreement shifted the presentation and volume of ethno-sectarian competition but did not challenge the basis upon which it was founded and reproduced.’ While the peace process helped create a climate of relative stability in which new discourses on diversity and difference could emerge, the institutional structures of the Agreement continue to reproduce the very divisions it sought to ameliorate. This was given stark expression in the reallocation of responses to the 2001 Northern Ireland census. Before looking in detail at this process, the social science of the census in contemporary states will be considered briefly. The use of social science to classify and categorise different groups of people has been central to the governing of bodies in the ‘modern’ world (Foucault 1979). Following Foucault, the political project inherent in the construction of standardised quantitative measures, both for people and for objects, has been highlighted (Porter 1995). Although often perceived as unswervingly objective, quantitative science has been shown to be heavily implicated in specific state projects and economic and social transitions (Porter 1995; Scott 1999). In contemporary societies the census is a particularly powerful social scientific tool which is used to count people and groups. Although the census has become a key tool of public policy, census categories themselves are social constructions which may reify putatively ‘natural’ divisions between peoples (Hannah 2001). The census may also become a politically contested issue, particularly in ethnically divided societies where a demographic decline in one group may directly result in another’s growth, often with important political effects (Anderson and Shuttleworth 1994; Arel 2000; Horowitz 1985). 54 The D’Hondt system is used for to allocate ministerial positions in Northern Ireland. Although the Agreement does not have written into it that ministerial portfolios should be divided in a 6:5 ratio between Unionists and Nationalists, the use of this system means that in practice this division of ministerial labour will occur as long as voters continue to overwhelmingly support Nationalist and Unionist political parties. 132 Sectarian head counting has been integral to the governing of Northern Ireland since its foundation (Anderson and Shuttleworth 1994). When Northern Ireland was created in 1920 its borders were drawn in such a way as to ensure a 66% Protestant and 33% Catholic demographic balance. In this context, the census provided a very important tool for measuring the changing strengths of religious groups and, by extension, rival political aspirations. Since 1861 the census has asked what religion the respondent followed, and over time the choices available have changed to reflect shifts in the religious composition of Northern Ireland (Coakley 2007).55 The census became an overtly politicised issue when, at the start of ‘the Troubles’, Sinn Fein called for a boycott of the process. Consequently there was significant underenumeration in many Catholic areas such that the 1971, 1981 and 1991 censuses were generally considered unrepresentative of the total Catholic population in Northern Ireland (Coakley 2007: 578). Despite these weaknesses, possessing an accurate picture of the Catholic/Protestant demographic breakdown is particularly important for two main reasons. First, under Fair Employment legislation all medium- and large-scale employers have to match the religious denomination of their work force with the religious breakdown of the local area (Gallagher 1992). Second, as there is assumed to be a strong correlation between religious affiliation and political identities, numerical strength is often used as a proxy measure for support for alternative Nationalist/Unionist political visions (Anderson, et al. 2004; Coakley 2007). Although the Northern Ireland census is bent upon quantifying membership of the ‘two traditions’, since 1971 respondents have shown much less willingness to commit themselves to a religious identity (McNair 2006). The figure for ‘No Religion/Not- Stated’ responses to the religious question in the census rose from 9.4% in 1971 to 11% in 1991 (Coakley 2007: 578). As a result of this trend, in 2001 a supplementary question asking the religious background that the respondent was brought up in was added. This new variable, known as ‘community background’, was based on either the respondent’s professed religion or their childhood religion (Coakley 2007). As the 2001 census was the first census after the Agreement the relatively high proportion of respondents who 55 Coakley (2007: 594) notes that alongside the three main denominations (Catholic, Presbyterian and Church of Ireland) the census records a much greater number of religious groups and faiths. In 2001 ninety-four other Christian denominations that had ten or more adherents were recorded. 133 did not identify with one or other of the main (religious) categories (see Table 5.2) was considered to be of some significance.56 Table 5.2 Reallocation of 'non-religious' respondents into sectarian blocs in 2001 Northern Ireland census. Based on Coakley, J. (2007: 578); Hadden, T. (2003: 6) Pre-allocation Census Distribution Reallocated Census Distribution N % N % Catholics 678,500 40.3 737, 450 43.8 Protestants 767,900 45.6 895,400 53.1 Other religions 5,500 0.3 7,100 0.4 None/Not Stated 233,900 13.9 45,850 2.7 Total 1,685,800 100 1,685,800 100 This lack of self-allocation to one religious group or another threatened to undermine the ability of the census to give a definite figure on the Catholic/Protestant breakdown (Hadden 2003). So unthinkable was this that the Northern Ireland Statistical Research Agency (NISRA) took the decision to re-specify those in the ‘No Religion/Not-Stated’ category into Catholic and Protestant blocs. They did this by two statistical manipulations. First, they turned to the census question on community background that had been introduced that year. Respondents who had either selected ‘No Religion’ or not stated a religious affiliation but who also had indicated they were raised as Catholic or Protestant were reassigned back into the appropriate (Catholic or Protestant) community category. This statistical manipulation reduced the proportion of Northern Ireland’s population in the ‘No Religion/Not-Stated’ category from 13.9% to 7.5% (Hadden 2003: 56 In the lead-up to the 2001 census, the first census since the Agreement and the first in which Sinn Fein urged Catholic/Nationalist participation, there was a growing media discourse on changing demographics, and, in particular, the possibility of a Catholic majority in favour of a United Ireland (Anderson, et al. 2004). This led to the 2001 census becoming even more politicised than in previous years. In the run up to the census many Unionist politicians claimed it would show the strength of Protestant numerical superiority; Nationalists suggested it would show population changes which would see a Catholic majority in Northern Ireland in the coming decades (Anderson, et al. 2004). In this highly politicised context having almost 14% of respondents avoid a religious identity caused a serious problem which NISRA ‘resolved’ by the reallocation. 134 6). The second statistical manoeuvre to deal with the ‘problem’ of a high proportion not providing a religious identity was to compute a (Catholic or Protestant) community affiliation for those who remained in the ‘No Religion/Not-Stated’ category. This was achieved using a computerised matching process known as ‘donor imputation’ which assigned a (Catholic or Protestant) community background by drawing on factors such as respondents’ geographical proximity to someone who did state their religion or community background. As a result, a total of 127,000 respondents who refused a religious identity were reassigned as Protestants and 59,000 as Catholics (Hadden 2003: 6)! After reallocation the percentage of Catholics in Northern Ireland stood at 43.8%, Protestants made up 53.1% and None/Not-stated 2.7% (see Table 5.2). Commentators (Alexander 2002; Anderson et al. 2004) have argued that this manipulation of the census data was grounded in sectarianism, and, specifically, in the Unionist fear that Northern Ireland was moving quickly towards a demographic profile that was dominated by Catholics.57As Alexander (2002: np) stated, the process of reallocating all those who expressed a clear preference for avoiding religious identities ‘institutionalises the Northern Irish truism that there are only Catholic and Protestant atheists’ (Alexander 2002: np). This, admittedly extreme, example shows how sectarianism remains active in the social practice of political institutions, ‘distorting politics and marginalising non-sectarian factors and concerns’ and undermining the expressed desire to normalise social relations outlined previously (Anderson, et al. 2004: 1). The dangers inherent in this process are clearly flagged by the Belfast-based policy analyst Robin Wilson. The communal registration process has militated against the emergence of a strong political centre that might engender stability in the institutions. Indeed, on the contrary, it has reinforced ‘groupist’ stereotyping characteristic of media reporting of Northern Ireland, where actual Protestant and Catholic individuals are constantly hovered up into 57 Coakley (2007: 592) questions the assumption that rising Catholic birth rates will necessarily see an end to partition for two reasons. First, Catholic birth rates appear to be levelling off, and it is unlikely that they will make up a majority within the next couple of generations. Second, there is some evidence that a small but significant number of Catholics would vote to retain the Union, and that this number is much greater than those Protestants who would support Irish unity. These arguments could have been marshalled to allay Unionist fears instead of resorting to the manipulation of census data in such a way that those who actively refuse to state their religion were re-appropriated into sectarian blocs. 135 ethnonationalist ‘communities’ belying the pluralism of real social life (Wilson 2003: 15; cited in Shirlow and Murtagh 2006: 34). The practice of communal registration and the process of reallocation in the 2001 census is evidence that, in some locations, there is a continuation and strengthening of sectarianism occurring within the very same institutional structures and practices that are supposed to help Northern Ireland move beyond sectarian division. Despite the commitment to good relations between all groups, this process may appropriate those who actively assert their right to refuse to specify their religious identity on the census form back into sectarian identities. It seems fair to ask, given the processes of ‘normalisation’ described in this chapter, whether such practices could be considered as characteristic of ‘normal’ liberal-democratic societies. Certainly the reallocation of the ‘No Religion’ responses within the census provides a powerful illustration of the resilience of the sectarian imagination in Northern Ireland. 5.6. Conclusion This chapter examined the emergence of multicultural policy within post-Agreement governing institutions. It was argued that until the last decade Northern Irish social policy and legislation marginalised those groups not easily classified as Catholic/Nationalist or Protestant/Unionist. The failure to extend the Race Relations Act (1965) to the Northern Ireland context reflected both the widely held perception that racism was not an issue and a fear amongst the Unionist controlled government that Catholics might use this legislation against the Northern Irish state. During ‘the Troubles’ public policy and legislation dealt with discrimination on the grounds of religion or political belief, but offered no protection for those groups whose identity fell outside the ‘two traditions’. As such, the Race Relations (NI) Order has been a very important piece of legislation for ethnically-identified minorities; it offers legislative recourse against discrimination that previously was denied to them. In this chapter it was also argued that pluralist ideals and social visions of Northern Ireland run through both the Agreement and subsequent public policy statements. The Agreement introduced broader notions of equality and difference beyond the scope of 136 sectarianism. Illustrative of this was the emergence of the term ‘good relations’ which has sought to include older issues of (sectarian) community relations and more recent issues of (ethnic-based) multicultural relations. There has been an active repositioning of the status of Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist relations in Northern Irish policy statements such that these relations are now ostensibly seen as the same as or equivalent to ‘race’ relations. This drive to decentre sectarian difference by diversifying the vectors of difference that the state sees itself as having the responsibility to govern was shown to be part of a process of ‘normalisation’ following the instability of the conflict. For many politicians and policy makers, the presence of cultural diversity is integral to the post-sectarian imaginary of Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society. Analysing the discourses of two key policy texts showed there to be considerable complexity surrounding the relationship between community relations and good relations and, by extension, between the management of sectarianism and multiculturalism. This complex relationship was mirrored in the structure of those institutions involved in the governing of a multicultural Northern Ireland. The separation between the Community Relations Unit and the Racial Equality Unit in the devolved administration (and the degree of over lap between these institutions) was shown to be symptomatic of this situation. The awkward division of labour between the Equality Commission and the Community Relations Council, with the former having a duty on ‘race’ but not religion, was held up as illustrative of the central place which sectarian relations continue to occupy in the post-Agreement context. Clearly multicultural agendas have emerged, but the relationship between them and efforts aimed at managing sectarianism has yet to be fully worked out. The final sections of this chapter sketched in detail the different institutions and policies contributing to the governing of multicultural Northern Ireland. This analysis demonstrated two key points. First, while the Agreement created a favourable climate for progressive political developments, it ushered in a fragmented state structure that stands in the way of successful policy implementation. Second, the separation of powers between devolved and non-devolved administrations has a negative impact on multicultural agendas. These institutional structures must be understood not as a product 137 of poor design or mismanagement but rather as a direct result of the Agreement. This political settlement was founded on an institutional approach to conflict resolution which explicitly sought to privilege sectarian political identities. Although admittedly extreme, the example of the reallocation of responses to the religious question in the 2001 Northern Ireland census demonstrated the persistence of sectarian constructions of identity within the emergent multicultural imaginary. While cultural diversity may afford an opportunity to construct Northern Ireland as ‘normal’, this new policy focus must negotiate engrained sectarian ways of thinking and doing within political institutions and their practices. It is to this complex interplay between a newer multicultural Northern Ireland and an older sectarian Northern Ireland that the dissertation now turns. 138 Chapter Six Multicultural Agendas in Practice: Responding to Racism and Recognising Difference 139 6.1. Introduction Having looked at policy and institutional frameworks for governing multiculturalism throughout Northern Ireland, the focus of this chapter turns to a range of organisations and initiatives operating in Belfast city that seek to actualise a multicultural vision of society. Specifically examined are those practices initiated in response to racialised violence and those which seek to raise awareness of cultural diversity. These two quite distinct processes are, each in their own way, dimensions of what might be understood as a multicultural society. In the former, we can see ways in which multicultural governance seeks to manage negative responses to cultural difference. In the latter, we can see the ways in which multicultural governance seeks to operationalise a politics of recognition and make space for the articulation of cultural difference. The analysis of institutional structures and discourses in Chapter Five indicated that multicultural initiatives are contoured by sectarianism. That vexed relationship is investigated further in this chapter, with the question asked: to what extent do sectarian divisions in society and social relations structure these two emblematic facets of a multicultural Northern Ireland? The material presented draws on interviews (with both different groups involved in multicultural practices in Belfast and civil servants), observation at events aimed at promoting cultural diversity and an analysis of a poster produced by the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) to encourage reporting of hate crime incidents. The presence of cultural diversity in contemporary societies is not always welcomed; it may be resisted through processes of racism and violence against racialised minorities (Abbas 2005; Back and Solomos 2000; Gilroy 2001). The increased reporting of racist incidents to the PSNI (especially in Belfast) has been well documented (Jarman and Monaghan 2003; Lentin and McVeigh 2006b). However, these reports of racism occur in a society in which policing itself is a contentious issue that is often linked to sectarian political positions (Mulcahy 2006; Weitzer 1985). This chapter explores the impact of the sectarianisation of the policing debate on responses to racism in Northern Ireland, paying particular attention to the Belfast context. Changes in legislation and police practice around issues of racism and cultural diversity in society, such as the introduction of hate crime legislation in 2004 and the production and circulation of a 140 poster to raise awareness of this legislation, are investigated. The chapter goes on to examine the extent to which sectarian cleavages attached to policing influence effective responses to racism in Northern Irish society through an investigation of the experiences of ethnically-identified minorities around policing and criminal justice issues. The chapter then moves on to look at those practices which seek to raise awareness of cultural diversity; understood in terms of the multicultural politics of recognition (Duffy 2005; Modood 1998; Parekh 2000; Taylor 1994). As Northern Ireland and, in particular, Belfast is being re-imagined as a diverse, multicultural society ethnically-identified minorities are being encouraged to engage in a range of activities designed to display their cultural difference and to raise awareness of their presence among wider society. This chapter specifically explores the work that such initiatives do in a society struggling to move beyond sectarianism. A range of events are examined in detail and include: the Belfast Mela; a joint Samhain/Diwali festival; a proposed ‘community’ dinner hosted by the Lord Mayor of Lisburn and the experience of a ‘multicultural’ educator in a school setting.58 While these events and initiatives speak of a Northern Ireland attentive to cultural diversity, this chapter examines how the historical sectarian division of Northern Irish society interacts with such a politics of recognition. The very existence of such efforts shows that Northern Ireland is becoming a more multicultural place, and, in the final section of this chapter, I look at how such practices might offer an opportunity to destabilise accepted sectarian readings of identity and social difference. 6.2. Responding to Racism in Northern Ireland One aspect of the governing of multicultural societies is the management of negative, racist responses to cultural difference (Abbas 2005; Gilroy 2001; Lentin 2001; Miles 1989; 1993), and the past twenty years have witnessed a plethora of theoretical 58 In popular discourse in Northern Ireland Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist communal groupings are often referred to as ‘local’, the assumption being that ethnically-identified minorities are somehow ‘non-local’. For example, discussing the aims of government funding released in the aftermath of a series of racially motivated attacks in South Belfast, the Deputy Head of the Racial Equality Unit stated that the money was being made available ‘to assist local communities build relationships with minority ethnic people’ (Interview 12/09/05). In this chapter I self-consciously eschew this language of ‘local’ and ‘non-local’ and the racialised assumptions of identity and belonging associated with this vocabulary. 141 developments around the issue of racism in contemporary societies (Back 1996; Back and Solomos 2000). Theories of new racism (Barker 1981), elite racism (Van Djik 1984) and everyday racism (Essed 1991) have all emerged. The existence of racism often elicits responses from government, other official channels and, in particular, the police (Denney 1997). Policing plays an important role in the management of racism in multicultural societies. In the sections that follow I turn to police initiatives directed at addressing the rise in racist violence in Northern Ireland and the experiences of ethnically-identified minorities of these responses. I do so in order to explore the complexities between multiculturalism and sectarianism in policing practices. The intersection of policing practices and the construction of ‘race’ and racism in contemporary multicultural societies has been a recurrent theme in the literature over the past two decades (Fyfe 1995; Jackson 1993; 1994b; Keith 1993; Rowe 2004). It has been argued that the over policing of minorities, evident in practices such as excessive targeting of Black people as part of stop and search campaigns, constructs an image of these groups as deviant and criminal (Fyfe 1995; Gilroy 1987; Reiner 1985; Scarman 1981; Solomos 2003). The police in the UK have been accused of being openly antagonistic towards racialised minorities and even protecting neo-fascists (Gilroy 1998: 841). These concerns have, in different forms, been evident in government reports on the policing of racialised minorities. The Scarman Report, published in 1981 in the aftermath of the Brixton riots, was highly critical of the role played by government and the police in creating the situation that led to the riots. More recently, the Macpherson Report (1999) concluded that ‘institutional racism’, a phrase which refers to an engrained culture of ‘race’-based discrimination, existed within the UK police service. Neither of these reports, however, covered Northern Ireland. Here, policing has been a particularly divisive and politicised subject and to understand fully police responses to racism in Northern Ireland it is important to first consider briefly the history and changing shape of policing in this jurisdiction. 142 6.2.1. Policing in Northern Ireland Since the foundation of the state, the issue of policing in Northern Ireland has been uniquely contentious and politicised (Mulcahy 2006). The Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC), which was formed following the disbandment of the all-Ireland Royal Irish Constabulary after the creation of the Irish Free State, was overwhelmingly Protestant in make-up. The regular police force was also supplemented by a virulently anti-Catholic auxiliary force known as the ‘B-Specials’ (Darby 1976). Even during the relatively peaceful period between 1922 and the late 1960s the RUC, as a largely Protestant force, lacked legitimacy in the eyes of many Catholic/Nationalists. This sense of distrust increased dramatically during ‘the Troubles’ as many Catholic/Nationalists came to regard the RUC as the coercive arm of a repressive Protestant state, and a force that should not be contacted or called into Catholic areas (Weitzer 1985). As a result many Catholic areas became no-go areas for the RUC, and policing duties were effectively transferred to local paramilitaries (Mulcahy 2006). In direct contrast, Unionist support for the force has always been strong, and many saw, and still see, the police as defenders of their community from the threat of IRA violence. Since the signing of the Agreement, policing in Northern Ireland has undergone a number of highly significant and historic changes. Similar to police forces in the rest of the UK, the RUC was often faced accusations of bias (although it was anti-Catholic bias instead of institutional racism). As a consequence, the focus on policing reform in Northern Ireland has been in terms of trying to fashion a force that would be acceptable to the Catholic/Nationalist community (Mulcahy 2006). In 1998, the Independent Commission on Policing in Northern Ireland (which later became the Patten Commission) was set up to review policing. Many of the recommendations made by the Commission, which were published in the Patten Report, were subsequently carried through. In November 2001, the name of the force was changed from the RUC to the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). The Report made other important recommendations that were subsequently adopted, including the introduction of a 50/50 Catholic/Protestant recruitment quota for new members to address the force’s significant religious imbalance. Despite these changes, policing has remained a major stumbling block in the post-Agreement political process. During the period in which this research 143 was conducted, over seven years after the signing of the Agreement, Sinn Fein was still refusing to sign up to the policing board and did not encourage Catholic/Nationalists to contact the police. Also, as noted in Chapter Five, policing is a reserved issue: it is under the control of the non-devolved Northern Ireland Office rather than the devolved Assembly, and directly elected representatives in Northern Ireland are unable to alter policing policy or practice in response to the specifics of the situation in Northern Ireland. Figure 6.1: Racial incidents: Protecting your rights, flyer distributed by PSNI (Source: Community Safety Branch, PSNI) Given the daily reality of sectarian conflict, it is not altogether surprising that the experiences of ethnically-identified minorities were often marginalised and ignored by 144 the RUC. However, in recent years the PSNI has becoming increasingly concerned about cultural diversity and, in particular, racialised violence (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b: 159). The increased reporting of — and media attention on — attacks against ethnically-identified minorities has led the PSNI to respond to the issue of racism in new ways (Interview with Head of Community Safety Branch, PSNI, 10/12/05). Minority Ethnic Liaison Officers have been appointed to act as an interface between ethnically- identified minorities and the police (see Figure 6.1). A Racial Equality Strategy calls on the PSNI to ‘reduce and eliminate displays and manifestations of racial aggression’ (OFMDFM 2005b: 51). These changes in policing practice and policy proposals have been backed up by legislative changes. The Criminal Justice (No. 2) Northern Ireland Order (2004) introduced specific hate crime legislation to address offences committed against individuals or their property based on grounds of ethnicity, ‘racial’ group, disability, sexual orientation, religion or political opinion. Under Hate Crime legislation a ‘racial’ incident is any incident that is perceived as ‘racially’ motivated by either the victim or a third party (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b: 159). When this legislation was introduced the government expressed the belief that ‘police activity will be a crucial factor in bearing down on hate crime’ (House of Commons 2005: 15). Although the new hate crime legislation was introduced largely in response to increased racist incidents, it has also generated significant changes in the defining and recording of sectarian-based attacks. A prominent community relations policy maker explains the situation as follows. For the first time we record sectarian incidents because we have hate crime because of the focus on race hate and race attacks. The four categories within that [hate crime legislation] are race, sectarianism, disability and homophobia. Now, you would think that there would have been a record of sectarianism here in Northern Ireland long before this .... Incredible, what? (Interview with Head of Policy, Community Relations Council, 14/10/05). Despite the long history of sectarianism in Northern Ireland, shockingly there existed neither a definition nor a comprehensive recording mechanism for sectarian incidents until the introduction of hate crime legislation in 2004 (House of Commons 2005: 9). 145 This is some eight years after the commencement of records by the police for ‘race’- based incidents (which began in 1996). As a report to the Northern Ireland Affairs Committee entitled The Challenge of Diversity: Hate Crime in Northern Ireland noted, ‘[n]othing could illustrate the dysfunction of Northern Ireland society better than the absence, until recently, of an agreed, official definition of a sectarian incident’ (House of Commons 2005: 10). The quote from this community relations practitioner suggests that the move to record sectarian incidents is a direct result of the legislation introduced by Westminster in response to concerns around spiralling numbers of racist attacks. Following the recommendations of the Macpherson Report (1999), the PSNI adopted a definition of a sectarian incident that paralleled the definition used for ‘race’-based incidents, namely ‘any incident that is perceived to be sectarian by the victim or any other person’ (House of Commons 2005: 10).59 It seems incredible that a state so deeply shaped by sectarian violence could have failed to record incidents as such. This absence of a record of sectarian incidents is arguably the strongest signifier of how embedded and naturalised sectarian violence had become in Northern Ireland. In a seemingly contradictory logic, the commencement of records of sectarian incidents coincides with the very moment when Northern Ireland seeks to displace sectarianism from being the defining vector of difference and move beyond its popular designation as a ‘conflict society’. This speaks to the desire for sectarian violence to be contained (counted and countable) and to be placed as equivalent to violence based on other axes of difference. This imaginative ‘diminishment’ of sectarian violence to just one type of ‘hate crime’ of the many a society may encounter is yet another example of Northern Ireland’s effort to normalise itself. At the same time, these changes point to the potential for multiculturalism to facilitate a critical reappraisal and redefinition of accepted constructions of sectarianism. These shifts in police practices around sectarian incidents show that multicultural issues are altering how sectarianism is constituted and performed in Northern Irish society. 59 This definition of a sectarian incident only applies to victims who are perceived to be either Catholic/Nationalist or Protestant/Unionist. Offences committed against ethnically-identified minorities on the basis of their religion, for example against Muslims, are considered as racially motivated (House of Commons 2005: 10). 146 6.2.2. Visual culture of PSNI hate crime awareness campaign In this section the analysis of police responses to racism in Northern Ireland is developed further through an engagement with the visuals used in a PSNI poster campaign aimed at raising awareness of hate crime. Previous research has examined the visual representations used in campaigns by state bodies and statutory organisations to draw attention to racism and anti-racist campaigns. For example, Paul Gilroy (1987) assessed the anti-racist efficacy of a series of posters produced by the Greater London Council in the 1980s to promote a campaign against ‘race’-based discrimination. More recently, Karim Murji (2006: 260) analysed a series of adverts produced by the Commission for Racial Equality as part of its ‘personal responsibility’ campaign to raise awareness of ‘racial’ stereotyping. Building on this work, this section looks at a poster produced by the PSNI to promote the reporting of hate crime (see Figure 6.2). This poster was produced as a direct response to the increase in numbers of ‘race’-based hate crime incidents reported to the PSNI, and the main goal of this campaign was to promote awareness and reporting of racist attacks in Northern Ireland (Interview with Head of Community Safety Branch, PSNI, 10/12/05). The poster in Figure 6.2 first appeared in Belfast in January 2005. In this poster the different categorisations of hate crime are represented by four juxtaposed images (‘race’, sexual orientation, religion and disability). In the first photograph from the left the face of a woman who appears to be of Asian origin looks out through a hole in a window pane; possibly a result of a brick or a stone lobbed during a racist attack. This image represents ‘racially’ motivated hate crime. The second picture, a piece of graffiti which reads ‘Gays Out’, denotes homophobic hate crime. The next image, the interior of a burned out church, symbolises religious or sectarian incidents. The final photograph, which appears to be a disabled man in a wheelchair being assaulted by an unidentifiable assailant, represents hate crimes committed on the basis of disability. These visual representations clearly show the viewer what is meant by hate crime, what categories there are, that all forms are criminal and that hate crime should be reported to the police. The poster’s unifying theme, ‘Hate Crime is Wrong’, is suspended above the four images, semantically linking the depicted hate crime categories. The central message, that hate crime is pernicious, is created clearly and legibly through the use of large, 147 block capitals and two colours (red and black) in the piece of text which carries this imploration. The poster also seems to be aimed at victims of hate crime as information and contact details are provided for locations where victims or witnesses can report incidents. Figure 6.2: ‘Hate Crime is Wrong’ Poster (Source: Community Safety Branch, PSNI) The idea for a poster campaign was proposed by the Head of the PSNI’s Community Safety Branch, whose remit includes hate crime, in the winter of 2004. He brought this suggestion to the Graphics Department of the PSNI, and discussions took place about 148 the content of the poster. Subsequently the Graphics Department commissioned a photographer to capture the images for ‘race’, sexual orientation and disability hate crime (the image of the burnt church representing sectarian incidents was an actual crime scene photograph already in the possession of the PSNI) (Personal Communication, Head of Community Safety Branch, PSNI, 21/11/07). The campaign initially ran on Adshells (bus shelters) in January 2005 in the six districts with the highest numbers of hate crimes/incidents recorded (South Belfast, North Belfast, Craigavon, Ballymena, Foyle and Dungannon and South Tyrone). In February 2006, the poster campaign was re-launched in all twenty-nine police districts with advertisements appearing on both Adshells and phone booths (Personal Communication, Head of Community Safety Branch, PSNI, 23/11/07).60 Since the campaign began there has been an increase in reporting of ‘racially’ motivated hate crime (PSNI 2007). Though whether this reflects increased confidence as a result of such initiatives by the PSNI or increased levels of attacks remains a moot point (Gilligan and Lloyd 2006). The very fact that the PSNI have been running this campaign is a positive sign of changes in police practice in response to racist violence. However, on closer inspection the limitations of the representations used in the poster become clear. The image in Figure 6.2 signifying ‘racially’ motivated hate crime is that of a physically non-White body in a submissive position. The face in the image looks scared and vulnerable as it peers out through shards of broken glass. This representation of ‘race’, like much anti- racist advertising, tends to reproduce particular stereotypes and assumptions about putative ‘racial’ difference (Gilroy 1987; Murji 2006). Furthermore, rather than challenging racism, this image simplistically depicts the victims of ‘racially’ motivated crime in Northern Ireland as submissive, fearful and clearly marked as phenotypically ‘Other’. Although it was produced in response to racist incidents in Northern Ireland, this poster actually aids the process of signification and category construction by which non-White people in Northern Ireland are racialised. The image used in this poster essentialises and naturalises thinking about social difference based on physical and biological signifiers in terms of the category ‘race’, and, effectively, contributes to the 60 The twenty-nine police districts mirror the twenty-six district councils with the exception that Belfast, which is one district council area, is broken down into four police districts (North, South, East and West). The inclusion of these four Belfast police districts takes the total number to twenty-nine. 149 on-going processes of racialisation in Northern Irish society (Chan 2006; Jackson and Penrose 1993; Miles 1992; Mullings 2005). Even more striking is the fact that although an increase in racist attacks was the main motive for the poster’s production, ‘race’-based incidents are not signified visually as being any more or less significant than any other category of hate crime. Despite being produced in the wake of racist violence, this hate crime poster does not privilege racism over and above other kinds of discriminatory violence. Most importantly for the post- sectarian imaginary of Northern Ireland, the poster constructs sectarianism as an equivalent discriminatory axis to the others. As the third form of hate crime represented in Figure 6.2, sectarianism is placed as neither the first nor the largest, but one of a string of discriminatory axes. The poster creates a vision of equivalence – sectarianism is just one of many registers of discrimination including racism which co-exist within the bounds of a normal, post-sectarian Northern Ireland. Developing this theme further, the following section draws on interviews with representatives of ethnically-identified minorities to investigate whether sectarianism and racism are really equivalent in post- Agreement Northern Ireland. 6.2.3. ‘They’re not interested in our issues’: Policing ‘race’ in Northern Ireland While the hate crime legislation introduced a sophisticated new system for reporting ‘racial’ attacks, the clearance rate for ‘racial’ incidents remains low, and there have been serious difficulties in obtaining convictions under hate crime legislation (House of Commons 2005).61 This failure to secure convictions has further fuelled the absence of confidence characteristic of the relationship between ethnically-identified minorities and the police force in Northern Ireland. Speaking to the Northern Ireland Affairs Committee on the issue of hate crime Anna Lo, in her capacity as Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of the Chinese Welfare Association (CWA), said that ‘a lot of [victims] do not report incidents. We feel there is a sense within the Chinese community that they are second 61 This assertion is based on figures from 2003/4 when the clearance rate for all crime was 27.4%, but for racial incidents stood at only 16.9% (House of Commons 2005: 15). 150 class citizens and they will always be second class citizens and the police will never take them seriously’ (House of Commons 2005: 17).62 Although the police force in Northern Ireland has often been accused of failing the Catholic/Nationalist community, ethnically- identified minorities share the feeling that the PSNI is not sufficiently attuned to their needs. We have always been very critical of the police in Northern Ireland. If you see our submission, in 1998 I think, to the Patten Commission. At that time, before Lawrence, we said that the police here in Northern Ireland are institutionally racist. And I think that is still the case (Interview with CEO, Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities, 30/01/06). This interviewee, who held a very important position as the CEO of the largest organisation representing ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland, suggests that institutional racism is a significant problem within the PSNI. Nevertheless, the preoccupation with sectarianism and constructing a police force acceptable to the Catholic/Nationalist minority has meant that this issue has yet to be addressed. This situation has added to the perception among ethnically-identified minorities that the PSNI are not interested in their concerns. This is reflected in the following quote from a Good Relations Officer in the CWA in Belfast. In general the Chinese would say they [the police], and they would say this during the Troubles as well, they’re not interested in our issues, they’re only interested in issues relating to Protestants and Catholics. Everybody has their story [of reporting a racial incident]: There’s been no follow-up. That’s a big thing, there being so little follow-up in cases. There has been good successful convictions and prosecutions, and I know it’s not for the police to relate back convictions but see if they did … one case could get round the Chinese community and do so much to build confidence. An awful lot of effort that has been put into policing Hate Crime but I just think there is a huge training issue there (Interview with Good Relations Officer, Chinese Welfare Association, 30/09/05). 62 As well as being the CEO of the CWA, Anna Lo was elected a Member of the Local Assembly (MLA) for the Alliance Party in South Belfast in the May 2007 Assembly elections. Lo was the first MLA elected to come from an ethnically-identified minority in Northern Ireland, and was also the first politician of Chinese descent to be elected to a UK Assembly or parliament. Both of these facts attracted significant amount of media attention, and there were many positive stories in both national and international outlets following Lo’s election. 151 As this quote shows, for many representatives of ethnically-identified minorities the feeling persists that the police are only really interested in sectarianism, despite the recent changes in their practice around ‘race’-based hate crime. The polarisation of the policing debate in Northern Ireland, with Protestant/Unionists supporting the police and Catholic/Nationalists displaying varying degrees of animosity towards the force, has made it difficult for ethnically-identified minorities to express publicly their views on the police. For example, in early 2004 the Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities (NICEM) criticised the police for what it perceived to be its failure to arrest the perpetrators of attacks on the homes of people of Chinese origin in the Donegall Pass area of South Belfast. More generally, NICEM also criticised the police’s failure to secure convictions under the new hate crime legislation. The press response to this was critical, and an editorial in The Belfast Newsletter (a staunchly Unionist daily) threateningly argued that NICEM ‘were playing a very dangerous game to attack the police’ (Interview with CEO, NICEM, 30/01/06). As the CEO of NICEM explained in interview, ‘the policing issue is a very political one in Northern Ireland. And anytime you attack the police you are deemed to be attacking Unionists’ (Interview with CEO, NICEM, 30/01/06). It is clear from this quote that when NICEM criticised the police their criticism got co-opted by Unionists into a sectarian infrastructure. Rather than their complaint being spoken from a stable and sanctioned position of an ethnically- identified advocacy group, it was positioned as anti-Unionist and, by default, aligned with Catholic/Nationalist interests. The association of criticism of the police with criticism of Unionism generally severely limits the possibility for ethnically-identified minorities to speak of their rights on their own terms (including their right to be protected from ‘race’-based violence and to petition the police in this regard). Similar forces of sectarianising the issues of ethnically-identified minorities were evident in the responses to ‘race’-based violence in Catholic areas of Belfast. For example, in April 2004 the Springfield Charitable Association (SCA), a voluntary group which aims to tackle socio-economic disadvantage in the predominantly Republican Falls Road area of West Belfast, organised a conference ‘to consult with minority ethnic groups and look at a mechanism for exploring the issues of racism’ (SCA 2004: 3). This 152 conference arose in response to attacks on the homes of Filipino nurses working in the nearby Royal Victoria Hospital (Bell, Jarman and Lefebvre 2004) and aimed to discuss racist experiences and rehearse possible solutions. Despite this agenda, organisers did not consider it appropriate to include representatives from the PSNI. A community activist from the SCA explained: We didn’t have the PSNI because within the community there would be a lot of resistance to using PSNI in the area. And there is also a lot of unreported cases [of racism] due to a lack of confidence in the PSNI (Interview with SCA, 15/02/06). This quote reminds us that for residents of some Catholic neighbourhoods the police are still seldom seen as an impartial force. The tendency in such areas has been to avoid contacting the police if at all possible (Bryan 2003). But from the point of view of the ethnically-identified minority (here Filipino nurses who have experienced ‘race’-based attacks on their homes) their needs and rights to have access to policing get filtered through Catholic/Nationalist feelings of mistrust towards the police. Even a self- conscious effort to recognise and respond to the agendas of ethnically-identified minorities here ends up being shaped by sectarian politics and practices. Given the importance of policing in addressing issues of racism and racist attacks, the resulting absence of the PSNI from the SCA conference must have greatly altered the scope of action available to address this local problem. The previous quote from the SCA community activist even suggests that victims of racialised violence in West Belfast are themselves choosing not to report attacks, and are therefore having their right to call upon the police curtailed by local cultures of mistrust. The figures for reported ‘racial’ incidents in West Belfast seem to bear out this point. Although the number of incidents rose from 13 in 2005 to 18 in 2006, this number is still far less than in other areas of the city.63 There are a number of possible explanations for this. One is that the relatively small number of reported incidents simply reflects less 63 During the same time frame the number of racial incidents reported in North Belfast rose from 62 to 82, in East Belfast there were 74 ‘racial incidents’ recorded in 2005 compared with 79 in 2006, while South Belfast continues to be the area in which the most ‘racial incidents’ are reported, with 126 reported in 2006 compared with 106 in 2005 (PSNI 2007: 5). 153 racist behaviour in West Belfast. Alternatively, it may indicate a lack of reporting. It is difficult to discern if this is a result of an absence of faith in the police amongst ethnically-identified minorities, or an unwillingness to antagonise Catholic neighbours by calling the police into the area. Regardless of the motivation, it appears that an embedded sectarianism continues to structure the reporting of racist incidents by ethnically-identified minorities. The difficulty victims of ‘race’-based hate crime face in Catholic/Nationalist areas such as the Falls Road is further complicated by the apparent synergy between their experiences of prejudice and those historically experienced by Catholic/Nationalists. An interviewee from the Indian Community Centre in Belfast (Interview conducted 18/10/05) explained the ‘problem’ of such recognition. I think maybe with the Nationalist community it is ‘ok, we know because we have been oppressed and we have been discriminated against so we know exactly what you are going through’. As this interviewee goes on to suggest, the sense that there is a shared experience of discrimination often means that racism in these areas is not challenged. But how are they going to challenge it [racism] in their own areas? And it does happen in the Nationalist areas as well and there is no challenge there. We see here an example of the violation that can occur in and through recognition (which will be discussed in more detail in the sections which follow). The history of anti-Catholic discrimination provides Catholic/Nationalists with a sense that they know and have had experiences similar to those of ethnically-identified minorities. But it also legitimates inaction in relation to racism. While this example suggests once again that sectarianism is undermining official responses to racism, there are also signs that policing in Northern Ireland is finally becoming a less intensely politicised issue. On 28th January 2007, following the St. Andrews Agreement, which tied the restoration of devolution to a resolution of the 154 policing situation, Sinn Fein held a special Ardfheis on policing.64 A motion to support the PSNI was carried, leading to a historic sea change in the traditional Republican position on policing in Northern Ireland and the acceptance of the PSNI as a legitimate force. This policy shift has resulted in Sinn Fein signing up to the policing board; giving the PSNI widespread cross-community backing for the first time. As the sectarian cleavages attached to the issue of policing begin to fall away, it might be expected that minorities in Catholic/Nationalist areas will feel more comfortable reporting ‘racial’ incidents to the police. Likewise, criticising police responses to racialised violence should be freed up from associations with deeply embedded sectarian political positions. However, as this section has shown, responses to racism and racist attacks in Northern Ireland remain deeply shaped by embedded sectarianism. For the representatives of ethnically-identified minorities, the PSNI is still preoccupied with sectarian difference and unresponsive to their concerns. Furthermore, the sectarian polarisation of the policing debate has made it difficult for these groups to publicly voice their concerns around the policing of ‘race’-based violence. Ethnically-identified minorities in some Catholic/Nationalist areas may feel reluctant to exercise their right to contact the police as it is at odds with conventions of avoiding and mistrusting the police. In these different ways, the image of equivalence – that sectarianism is just one of many registers of discrimination in a normalising Northern Ireland – produced in the poster in Figure 6.2 is shown to be less than realistic. Instead, sectarianism continues to operate as the dominant axes of discrimination and to structure responses to racism. A different set of complexities between sectarianism and multiculturalism emerge when what could be conceived of as the ‘positive side’ of multicultural initiatives are examined. In the sections that follow, I turn to those initiatives and events which seek to recognise and raise awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland. 64 An Ardfheis is a convention or special convention of a political party. It is an Irish word meaning ‘high festival’. 155 6.3. Celebrating Cultural Diversity As discussed in detail in Chapter Two, one framework for fixing the meaning of cultural diversity in society is the politics of recognition (Parekh 2000; Taylor 1989; 1994). Social practices invoked by a multicultural politics of recognition often seek to make wider society aware of the culture and identity of minority groups (Modood 1998; Parekh 2000). As such, multicultural festivals and celebrations of diversity are easily identifiable examples of recognition in practice (Duffy 2005; Jackson 1988; 1992). The history of such recognition practices in Belfast is remarkably brief. Throughout ‘the Troubles’ ethnically-identified minorities, which were predominantly resident in Belfast, intentionally kept a low profile (Hainsworth 1998). They rarely engaged in ‘cultural work’ (Werbner 2000) in the public sphere. As a publication produced by the Indian Community Centre (ICC) in Belfast points out: ‘during all the troubles in Northern Ireland, the Indian community kept their heads down’ (ICC 2004: 14). It is only since the peace process has bedded down that this situation has begun to change. Although people of Chinese origin have lived in reasonably large numbers in Belfast since the 1960s (Watson and McKnight 1998), it was only in 2003 that the Chinese New Year was celebrated in such a prominent public venue as the St. George’s Market in the centre of Belfast. This, the first celebration of ethnically-identified ‘culture’ in a ‘mainstream’ venue in Belfast, was a success and is now held annually at this venue. Since then the number and diversity of such events has increased. Newer migrant groups have begun arranging events, for example Poles in Belfast organised a festival of Polish food and music in July 2006 and have done so every year since. In the following sections empirical material gathered through interviewing and observation at multicultural events in Belfast is drawn on to explore the enactment of these celebratory practices in a society divided along sectarian lines. 6.3.1. Celebrating multiculture(s), essentialising difference By far the most prominent example of what Parker (2000: 71) refers to as ‘celebratory multiculturalism’ in Northern Ireland is the Belfast Mela (see Figure 6.3). This festival is run by the Indian Community Centre in Belfast and held every August in the Botanic 156 Gardens in South Belfast. Since its inception, in 2004, the Mela has proved increasingly popular. The profile of the festival has grown to such an extent that the 2007 Mela attracted over twenty corporate sponsors including Allianz, Western Union and FlyBe. Activities and events taking place during the Mela include henna tattooing, exhibitions of Indian art, performances of Indian music and the sale of Indian food and drinks. Figure 6.3: Brochure for 2005 Belfast Mela (Source: Indian Community Centre) As well as showcasing the cultural diversity of society, events like the Mela provide important opportunities for individuals to come together and contribute to the building of a sense of collective identity in a new place. However, the assumption that such multicultural celebrations recognise ‘authentic’ Indian culture was rejected as simplistic and patronising by many of those involved in organising and running such events. One interviewee, a project worker involved in numerous multicultural initiatives, has grown weary of these festivals and the assumptions of authenticity underlying them. I'm really tired that every time there is this cultural diversity stuff people are expecting the Chinese to cook, the Latin Americans to dance and the 157 Indians to do the Henna. I mean I am absolutely tired about that. We can think and we have things to say, we are more than just that stuff. I think it is important to share the cultural part but at the end of the day …. I started making a joke about why don't people from here do their Irish dance or their Morris dance. Is that what it is about? (Interview with Project Worker, Community Change, 09/11/05). In a reflective appraisal of her own multiculturalist practice this interviewee expresses frustration at the reduction of the experience of ethnically-identified minorities to putatively ‘authentic’ cultural practices such as cooking, dancing and tattooing; practices that belie the depth and breadth of their personal and collective stories and experiences. The culturalist notions of difference underlying so-called ‘Saris, Samosas and Steelbands’ multiculturalism have been accused of constructing ‘minority ethnic communities’ as essentialised cultural units and, in the process, denying the plurality and internal diversity of these groups (Hall 2000; Troyna 1987). Sivanandan (2006) critiques the commodification of culture and the reification of imagined communities like ‘the Indian community’ and ‘the Chinese community’ in these multicultural practices. In an effort to draw attention to her concerns, this interviewee has begun to joke with colleagues about the possibility of Catholics performing Irish dancing and Protestants Morris dancing as part of a more widely conceived cross-community project. This barbed comment reflects her sense that for many the ideal of authenticity of ‘Other’ cultures can be expressed through cooking and tattooing, but the notion that ‘authentic’ Protestant and Catholic culture is reducible to dancing is so ridiculous that it serves as a joke rather than a serious suggestion. An appreciation of the complexity of the culture and identity of the ‘two traditions’ has been a noted feature of Northern Irish policy in recent decades (Nash 2005). This awareness of the complexity of culture has not, however, been extended to cover ethnically-identified minorities. Instead, these groups are expected to present stylised versions of themselves at multicultural events, risking reification in the act of performance. The Good Relations Officer (GRO) of the Chinese Welfare Association (CWA) put it like this: 158 For many community groups their multi-cultural day is just bringing along Chinese and Indian or whatever to provide food. Which again might be a start and there are some benefits in it, but it’s not addressing the issues. I mean sometimes its reinforcing stereotypes and presenting communities as exotic and as different (Interview with GRO, CWA, 30/09/05). Though the very fact that ethnically-identified minorities are organising public celebrations is a sign that Northern Irish society is becoming more accepting of cultural diversity, these practices are open to the accusation that they exotisise ethnically- identified minorities and serve a multicultural desire that resides mainly in the hands of mainstream Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist groups. The limits of multiculturalism are set by the dominant groups in society (Hage 2000; Hesse 2000), and in the Northern Irish context the constituencies with the power to confer recognition on ethnically-identified minorities are the ‘two traditions’. Indeed, there is a genuine question to raise with respect to whose ‘needs’ such events are serving. For example, the CWA has had the experience of enthusiastic non-Chinese groups claiming an association with them in the name of ‘good’ multicultural relations without actually consulting with them. There really needs to be an awful lot more consultation and evaluation of some of the projects that take place. Because people are just so quick, you know they put down that they are working with the Chinese Welfare Association on the application form and then consult us after (Interview with GRO, CWA, 30/09/05). One of the main reasons identified for the increased appetite for working with ethnically-identified minorities among Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist voluntary groups is the increased availability of government funding for such initiatives. A project worker on a funded initiative noted this trend. There is suddenly a lot of funding around for work with minority ethnic communities. The Community Relations Council is starting to give money for minority ethnic work as well, not just around orange and green issues. The money is there, so lots of community groups who wouldn’t have been 159 interested before are starting to go for it (Interview with Project Worker, Multicultural Resource Centre, 03/10/05). Clearly the availability of dedicated funding is having an impact on the practical initiatives of cooperation and association between sectarian-identified groups and ethnically-identified groups. Such funding has enabled a range of multicultural initiatives, some of which are detailed in the remainder of the chapter. 6.3.2. Recognising cultural difference in sectarian spaces As well as recognising the identities of ethnically-identified minorities, some multicultural practices have recently sought to include Protestant/Unionist and Catholic/Nationalist cultural expressions. However, these efforts have often proved contentious, as the Indian Community Centre discovered when, buoyed by the success of the Mela festival, they organised a joint celebration for Diwali, the Indian festival of light, and Samhain, the Gaelic festival of Halloween (see Figure 6.4). Figure 6.4: Flyer distributed for Samhain/Diwali festival (Source: Indian Community Centre) 160 This event, held in November 2005, offered a mixture of traditional Hindu and Gaelic music and dance; a number of well-known Irish musicians participated, most notably Kila.65The venue for the festival was the Waterworks in North Belfast, a recently renovated park in one of the most deprived areas of the city (Shirlow and Murtagh 2004). Having witnessed some of the most brutal excesses of ‘the Troubles’, North Belfast is still divided along sectarian lines and remains prey to eruptions of violence at interfaces between Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist communities (Shirlow 2003; Shirlow and Murtagh 2004). This sectarian geography encased the Waterworks park, with the northern end of the space being located in a Protestant-identified neighbourhood and the southern end of the park in a Catholic-identified neighbourhood. This sectarian territoriality had a direct impact upon the micro-geography of this event. As one festival organiser explained, what was contentious here was not the Indian content of the festival but the Gaelic content. The local people up in North Belfast were saying ‘you know it is this end of the Waterworks, why are you not including that end of the Waterworks?’ And it’s a matter of well if we are in that end of the Waterworks we’ll be attacked by Loyalists because it is seen as a Gaelic festival and even where the stage is being situated, everything is down to fine details (Interview with GRO, Indian Community Centre, 18/10/05). Gaelic cultural symbols are associated with Ireland and Irishness, and in Northern Ireland this would appeal almost exclusively to the Catholic/Nationalist community.66 Gaelic symbols were used in all the promotional material for this event, for example at the foot of the flyer in Figure 6.4 is a depiction of Celtic art. As a consequence, the positioning of the stage had to, on the one hand, ensure the safety of those identifying with a Gaelic cultural symbol (i.e. in the ‘Catholic’ part of the park) and, on the other, cope with complaints from Protestants that they were being excluded by the inclusion of Irish, rather than British, cultural symbols. On the day of the festival the attendance at the event was largely drawn from the Indian Community Centre or from the local Catholic population. As one festival goer noted, ‘most of the people here are from the 65 Kila are a popular seven-piece band from Dublin who play a fusion of Irish and East European music. 66 The vast majority of Catholic/Nationalists self-identify as Irish; the vast majority of Protestant/Unionists identify themselves as British (Coakley 2007). Consequently, cultural symbols, for example flags, representing Ireland or Britain tend to be associated with one side or other of the sectarian divide. 161 local [Nationalist] area, there’s nobody here from Tiger’s Ray or the Crumlin Road [nearby Loyalist areas]’ (Anonymous, Samhain/Diwali festival, 06/11/05). Another interviewee, reflecting on the absence of Protestant groups from the event, commented that ‘only one side of the community is being represented here, while this is cross- cultural it isn’t cross-community’ (Anonymous, Samhain/Diwali festival, 06/11/05). This complex language, of ‘cross-community’ and ‘cross-cultural’, reflects the difficulty of negotiating sectarian considerations alongside other cultural differences in the contested terrain of cultural politics in Northern Ireland. It also reminds us that a simplistic notion of a ‘local culture’ in the Northern Ireland context is contentious and bifurcated between Irish and British cultural representations. The case of the Samhain/Diwali festival reveals much about the politics of recognition of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. Although ostensibly a celebration of new, multicultural Northern Ireland, in practice the festival was structured by the continuing sectarian division of North Belfast and of Northern Ireland more generally. This event demonstrates the difficulty of practicing even reductive ‘Saris, Samosas and Steelbands’ multiculturalism in a context in which space itself is absorbed into such dominant territoriality. As the Samhain/Diwali festival showed, it is practically impossible to include both ‘traditions’ in multicultural celebrations which call on notions of Irishness. This festival also suggests that, in some instances, celebratory, multicultural practices are being promoted and encouraged in an attempt to advance a vision of Northern Ireland as composed of more than just Green and Orange and, by extension, moving beyond sectarianism. However, as this study of the Samhain/Diwali festival clearly showed, sectarian divisions are not circumvented by these practices of multicultural recognition; rather, the unresolved historical legacy of sectarianism in Northern Ireland fundamentally structures and undermines them (Chan 2006; Hesse 2000; Povenilli 1998). The persistence of sectarianism in the emergent multicultural imaginary is also illustrated in other self-consciously multicultural initiatives. One such initiative was a planned dinner by the Lord Mayor of Lisburn. This dinner was to be self-consciously inclusive with the aim being to bring together ‘locals’ and Latvians and Poles who had 162 recently migrated to the area. At this dinner national food dishes from Latvia and Poland would be served alongside ‘local’ foods. This dinner event could be read as an encapsulation of the dream of a post-sectarian, multicultural Northern Ireland. However, events such as this met with scepticism, as this remark from a member of a Loyalist ex- prisoners support groups suggests.67 You get the real do-gooders who think that just by banging heads together, you the Latvian can try the Polish sausage. That is what they are going to do soon, have a dinner, you try the Polish sausage while you try this other food, isn’t that good? Then we’ll all get a photograph around the big table with the guy from Twinbrook who has done the cooking and what a picture that will make in their local paper (Interview with Lisburn Prisoners Support Project (PSP), 10/08/06). The Lisburn PSP, of which this interviewee is a representative, has chosen another course towards a multicultural future. When attacks on migrants in the area were reported in 2006, the PSP received funding from the Racial Equality Unit to hire a Polish community worker to liaise with new migrant groups. Although Lisburn is a predominantly Protestant town, this interviewee suggests that the food at the Lord Mayor’s dinner will be cooked by a member of the Catholic/Nationalist community from Twinbrook (a Catholic/Nationalist area of West Belfast which is technically within the boundaries of Lisburn). From his perspective, the proposed dinner, which is supposed to help heal tensions in the town, is simply a cynical photo opportunity for politicians to make claims on multiculturalism and cross-community involvement. Within this example the complex cross-hatchings of sectarianism and other differences are brought clearly into view. The inclusion of a Catholic in the multicultural dinner organised by a Unionist mayor illustrates how multicultural practices are called upon to recognise not only cultural diversity but also post-sectarian hopes. What is also revealed is an emergent differentiation among those who are engaged in multicultural initiatives, this is a differentiation between ‘tokenistic’ multiculturalism and a more ‘real’ multiculturalism. 67 This interviewee is a member of a Loyalist ex-prisoners group founded in a housing estate on the outskirts of Lisburn at the time of the paramilitary ceasefires to integrate former Ulster Defence Association (UDA) prisoners back into the community. 163 A closer reading of this ‘multicultural’ event, however, reveals another manifestation of sectarianism. The specific inclusion of Poles and Latvians at this planned dinner should also be seen as faith-based. Anecdotal evidence suggests that a process of ‘sectarianising’ some migrant groups has begun, in particular Poles are often identified as Catholic and Latvians as Protestant (Lewis 2006). In one well publicised case, Polish workers at a meat processing plant in Derry were subjected to sectarian taunts by their co-workers following the passing of Pope John Paul II (Lentin and McVeigh 2006b: 148). The verbal abuse directed at the Polish employees, the majority of whom are Catholic, included the vitriolic phrase ‘Fuck the Pope’, which is a common slogan on the walls of some Loyalist neighbourhoods. This co-option of migrants from other countries into the ‘two traditions’ binary provides another example of the resilience of sectarian ways of thinking and being in Northern Ireland. Against this backdrop the inclusive vision produced by the Lord Mayor’s multicultural dinner is underscored and undermined by the readiness by which new migrants can be drawn into existing sectarian processes of identification. While festivals and dinners are probably the most obvious (and clichéd) examples of multicultural practices, the classroom has been identified as a particularly important site for the articulation of ideas about difference, culture and identity (Bonnet 1993; Troyna 1987). In Northern Ireland, citizenship education classes have begun to involve lessons on multicultural diversity and immigration (Mussano 2004), and increasingly schools are inviting representatives from ethnically-identified minorities to speak about their culture and experiences in Northern Ireland. As noted in Chapter Four, levels of Catholic/Protestant integration in Northern Ireland schools are still very low, and this new curriculum is being delivered into schools which are predominantly segregated along sectarian lines. The experience of one interviewee, a white woman working on behalf of the Chinese community in Belfast, flags the difficultly inherent in trying to talk about multiculturalism in the segregated space of the classroom. Here she reflects on her experience of a visit to a Protestant school in South Belfast: the area with the highest recorded number of ‘race’-based incidents in the whole of Northern Ireland. Her visit to the school was in response to the Chinese Welfare Association being invited in to talk on the history and culture of Chinese people in Northern Ireland. 164 I actually went into this school in South Belfast. I was told when I went in not to speak about my religion, not to let the kids know what religion I was. And she [the teacher] was like ‘Well, we had an incident where we had a Catholic, a woman who was doing secretary and she had a Catholic name. She was temping and her car was vandalised because of her name. We were teaching the children about St. Patrick’s Day and we had parents writing letters of complaint.’ This woman was assuming I was Catholic and she was like ‘be careful when you are spelling things because the children will pick up that you are not a Protestant by the way you pronounce H and the way you pronounce A or Ah’ …. She actually told me that [before the session] the kid’s were asking ‘Where’s the name ------, where’s she from’. And she says ‘I told them you were English’ and I was like, ‘They’ll know whenever I open my mouth that I’m not English’. You know, and I’m not happy about having to lie to children about my identity. That defeats the whole purpose, its not just acceptance around minorities, we are talking about the whole area of diversity and oppression in general .… Sometimes the schools will address issues about other communities and about racism in a way to avoid having to deal with the traditional divide .… But I just couldn’t believe that this was the attitude of a teacher. With all good intentions she wanted to address issues of racism and so forth, but it was crazy (Interview with Good Relations Officer, Chinese Welfare Association, 30/09/05). In this example, awareness of a multicultural agenda of inclusiveness and recognition sits, without any sense of contradiction, alongside an attitude that seeks to by-pass sectarianism by a strategy of denial. Once again a multicultural initiative is being used to circumvent addressing the historical legacy of sectarianism in society (Hesse 2000; Povenilli 1998). The preoccupation with sectarian identities in Northern Ireland has led to the development over time of complex – almost subconscious – heuristics that individuals use to attempt to divine the religion of those they meet in their daily lives (Burton 1978). According to Burton (1979: 65), the use of various cues to try to predict an individual’s religious background, a process which he called ‘Telling’, was ‘the representation of sectarianism in contemporary Ulster’. Furthermore, he argued that of all the ‘Telling’ cues that could be used to predict an individual’s religious identity their name was the ‘first of the signs’ (Burton 1979: 65). Studies have shown that this process of ‘Telling’ is not confined to the adult population; from a very young age schoolchildren employ stereotypical judgements about eye colour, hair, dress, names and voices to discern the religious background of others (Stringer and Cairns 1983). In the above quote, the teacher in this Protestant school felt strongly that if the children 165 perceived the interviewee as Catholic, either by her name or the way she spoke, they would be unreceptive to her attempts to challenge attitudes and stereotypes to Chinese minorities. Consequently, she was asked to avoid any ‘Telling’ signs and to conceal her own religious identity. This suggests that issues of cultural diversity can only be addressed in Northern Irish schools if the topic of religion – and the stereotypical markers employed in the process of ‘Telling’ – are suppressed. Clearly this caused great difficulties and concerns for the facilitator; showing once again the extent to which sectarianism hinders efforts to recognise the identities of culturally diverse groups in Northern Ireland. 6.3.3. Negotiating cultural difference, destabilising sectarianism Multicultural practices are inherently messy, uncertain and open to multiple interpretations (Dwyer and Crang 2002). As this chapter has shown, placed into a sectarian context the ‘messiness’ of multiculturalism is given a specific inflection as various initiatives grounded in a politics of recognition negotiate sectarian divisions. In some instances, a multicultural agenda is undermined by sectarianism. In other instances, multicultural initiatives can offer an opportunity to re-imagine a diverse, plural Northern Ireland beyond the dominant tropes of sectarian identity. For example, the combination of Irish and Indian cultural practices in the Samhain/Diwali festival was intended to make participants reflect upon the range of different cultures that co-exist in their city (Interview with GRO, Indian Community Centre, 18/10/05). Although Protestant groups felt alienated from the event, the inclusion of both Irish and Indian identities suggests some nascent attempt to broaden multicultural practices to embrace different groups in society. The hope that multicultural initiatives can undermine the ‘two traditions’ conceptualisation of Northern Ireland was highlighted by the Good Relations Officer (GRO) of the Chinese Welfare Association (CWA) as she reflected on a planned school education activity. This year we are planning to do a multi-cultural day in local schools. The children can engage in calligraphy workshops, you know to write their name in Chinese and things like that there. Something that shows them that it is not just about Protestants and Catholics, there are other cultures. 166 And that’s the important thing, to make the children aware that it’s not just orange and green (Interview with GRO, CWA, 30/09/05). For this interviewee, teaching children to write their names in Chinese is envisaged as a facet of a wider project of promoting awareness of the diversity of Northern Irish society beyond the ‘two traditions’. Other interviewees involved in managing social relations in post-sectarian Northern Ireland gave a similar view of the potential for multicultural diversity to destabilise a sectarian construction of Northern Ireland. For example, for the Head of Policy of the CRC, the arrival of ‘minority ethnic people’ was helping Northern Ireland to ‘get over ourselves’: They are helping us focus in. Part of that is forcing us to look at sectarianism. There would be the theory, that some would believe, that you know, you just call it all racism, because that’s what it is. Because, like I said to you, the core principles are the same. It’s lack of respect for diversity and difference, lack of co-operation between the two, suspicion and hatred, misunderstanding, all those things, and that’s generally how you describe racism, so it is maybe all racism .… That’s an interesting debate in terms of how do you merge the two of them together. Is that the way to do it? Then you have to analyse what would be the response. Can you imagine? [There would be opposition] From some quarters, because they would be forced then to address it [sectarianism] as something that is wrong, that exists. Whereas at the moment I think sectarianism is looked at as something that has developed. Everybody’s responsible but nobody is really responsible. It is just there, it is the way we are. If you call it something else, racism, then you have to address it … you see all of them understand racism and maybe that is forcing them to acknowledge sectarianism (Interview with Head of Policy, Community Relations Council, 14/10/05). This quote reveals how sectarianism has become so naturalised that it is not only treated as an ahistorical phenomenon that is ‘just there, it is the way we are’, but also a vector of differentiation and dislike that is ‘acceptable’ or understandable. In contrast, racism is seen as something unacceptable. Indeed, this interviewee is suggesting that the growing awareness about the unacceptability of racism is forcing people to reflect on the unacceptability of sectarian-based resentments and prejudices. While sectarianism and racism share many similarities as forms of discrimination, they are sociologically distinct processes, and ‘there is a point in maintaining the integrity of sectarianism as an explanatory concept’ (Brewer 1992; Chapter Two: 37-38; McVeigh 1999: 19). In 167 treating these processes as identical there is a danger that the specificities of both will be lost, blunting rather than strengthening the ability to counter their expression in society. Constructing sectarianism and racism as the same may not represent the best way forward in the development of a socially cohesive society; however, the underlying idea that sectarianism should be understood not as an ahistorical ‘fact’ but as a social process akin to racism is potentially very useful in deconstructing accepted ideas about social difference in Northern Ireland. This chapter has looked in detail at a range of initiatives framed by a commitment to the recognition and celebration of culturally diverse groups in the interest of cultivating a multicultural Northern Ireland. It is easy to be cynical about such initiatives, and at least some of those involved in the work of managing social relations in post-Agreement Northern Ireland share that cynicism. Michelle Duffy (2005: 679), reflecting on the role of multicultural festivals in Australia, notes that ‘rather than the multicultural festival being a simple celebration of social cohesion’ such events produce encounters and interactions that can restructure entrenched notions of national identity and generate new ways of belonging. The emergence of ‘immigrant multiculturalism’ in the wake of new migration (and with it an increase in such ‘multicultural’ events) could, potentially, play an important role in promoting pluralism in the Northern Ireland context (Kymlicka 2001). Despite the difficulties of recognising cultural diversity in the context of a sectarian society, multicultural initiatives that seek to extend the politics of recognition beyond the ‘two traditions’ have the potential to furnish both children and adults with the moral and conceptual infrastructure needed to denaturalise embedded sectarianism. This brings with it the hope that emerging multicultural agendas are, in some contexts, helping to disrupt the idea that society has only ever been comprised of Catholics and Protestants and that sectarianism is a ‘natural’ way of being. 6.4. Conclusion This chapter has examined the extent to which the sectarian division of Northern Irish society and its social relations structures two particular dimensions of a multicultural society; namely responses to racialised violence and efforts to raise awareness of 168 cultural diversity. With regards to the former, as the number of reported ‘racial’ incidents have increased, the police force in Northern Ireland has began to focus its attention on issues of cultural diversity and racism. This chapter showed how hate crime legislation, introduced in 2004 in response to ‘race’-based attacks, has also led to changes in how sectarianism is approached and understood. Prior to this there existed neither a definition of a sectarian incident nor a comprehensive record of such incidents. While this failure to record sectarian incidents shows how naturalised and embedded sectarianism had become in Northern Ireland, the focus on ‘race’ hate crime has led to significant changes in the policing of sectarianism. In this way, the presence of cultural diversity is altering how sectarianism in Northern Ireland is constituted and performed. This chapter argued that the construction of sectarianism and racism as equivalent under hate crime legislation can be conceived of as part of Northern Ireland’s attempt to normalise itself. The poster produced by the PSNI to promote awareness of hate crime was motivated by the presence of ‘race’ hate incidents, but these incidents were not constructed as more significant in the poster itself. The analysis of the poster showed how it constructs sectarianism as just one of many axes of discrimination that co-exist in the new, multicultural Northern Ireland. However, this image of equivalence was not borne out empirically on the ground: the police remain preoccupied with sectarianism. This has led to a situation in which ethnically-identified minorities feel marginalised and the issue of institutional racism is not being addressed. Furthermore, as the comments by the CEO of NICEM demonstrated, these groups are limited in their ability to speak of their rights in their own terms. The sectarianisation of policing precipitated a situation in which the PSNI were not included in a conference on racism held in West Belfast and in which ethnically-identified minorities living in Republican areas might not be able to call the police. Although these findings point to the extent to which sectarianism structures and undermines police responses to racialised violence, it was argued that the recent historic changes in policing in Northern Ireland provide some grounds for optimism. The advent of peace in Northern Ireland has also created a situation in which ethnically- identified minorities feel more comfortable about organising and participating in events 169 which recognise their identity in the public sphere. However, drawing on interviews and participant observation, this chapter showed that these initiatives are often underpinned by culturalist assumptions which reproduce stylised versions of culture and identity. The issue of whose needs these events are serving was also raised. Certainly the proliferation of funding has created a situation in which sectarian-based groups are increasingly looking to work with ethnically-identified groups, but many fail to consult with these groups about their needs, wants and ambitions. The persistence of sectarianism in Northern Ireland’s emergent multicultural imaginary was demonstrated throughout this chapter. It was shown that the Samhain/Diwali festival, ostensibly a celebration of this new Northern Ireland, was structured by sectarian territoriality. Also, while multiculturalism is often a vehicle for post-sectarian hopes, there is evidence to suggest that some new migrants (particularly Poles and Latvians) are themselves being absorbed into sectarian groupings. While these findings point to the extent to which sectarianism structures multicultural initiatives, the experience of a white, Northern Irish woman invited into a Protestant school to talk about the Chinese community in Belfast showed that multicultural agendas may also be used to circumvent addressing historically embedded sectarianism. Nevertheless, this chapter also suggested that multicultural initiatives might have an important role to play in undermining the ‘two traditions’ conceptualisation of space and society in Northern Ireland. Multicultural initiatives offer an opportunity to denaturalise accepted understandings of sectarianism and, in the process, disrupt the construction of Northern Irish society as belonging to, and being comprised of, only Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists. 170 Chapter Seven ‘Showing Your True Colours’: The Visual Culture of Anti- racism in West Belfast 171 7.1. Introduction Thus far, this dissertation has demonstrated how multicultural frameworks and policies have emerged in Northern Ireland over the course of the last decade. Chapter Five showed that a government concern for managing cultural diversity can be conceived of as part of a process of ‘normalisation’ in the aftermath of the conflict. However, the embeddedness of sectarianism within post-Agreement institutional structures often hinders the enactment of multicultural policy. Similarly, Chapter Six showed how multicultural initiatives, from official responses to racism to celebrations of cultural diversity, are also shaped by the persistence of sectarianism. In some instances, nevertheless, the presence of cultural diversity in Northern Irish society is influencing how sectarianism is conceived of and approached. In turning to another sub-field of multicultural practice, anti-racism, this chapter reinforces and reiterates many of the key themes and findings explicated in previous chapters. This chapter looks at the visual representations produced by anti-racist groups formed in response to what could be termed ‘multicultural issues’ (specifically new migration and racism) in West Belfast, an area deeply divided along sectarian lines (Boal 1969). Visual culture such as murals, flags and kerb paintings have been identified as playing an important role in identity construction and its spatialisation along sectarian lines in Northern Ireland (Jarman 1997). The content and context of anti-racist messages produced in mediums associated with sectarianism provides an excellent opportunity to illustrate, often quite literally, the relationship between emerging multicultural agendas and embedded sectarianism. In exploring the visual culture of these anti-racist campaigns, this chapter asks what messages do they convey? Do the representations and narratives used in these anti-racist campaigns reproduce sectarianism, challenge it by producing an alternative vision of a multicultural Northern Ireland or, perhaps, do both? The chapter begins with a brief discussion on the use of visual culture in the production and bounding of segregated space in Northern Ireland (Anderson and Shuttleworth 1998; Boal 1969; 2002; Boal and Douglas 1982; Murtagh 2002). Certain types of media play a particularly prominent role in this process, as much existing research has demonstrated 172 (Feldman 1991; Jarman 1995; 1997; 1998; Rolston 1991; 1992; 1995; 2003a; 2003b). This is often an explicitly geographical matter; where flags, murals and kerb paintings are located is integral to the production of sectarian territoriality and claims to space at a number of scales (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). The brief history of murals in Northern Ireland that follows examines their social significance as vehicles for rival political narratives and identities and considers changes in the content of political murals since the Agreement. The rationale for this chapter’s focus on West Belfast is then outlined, including a discussion on the area’s specific social and political context and the factors which led to the emergence of anti-racist movements there. Following this, the anti-racist representations produced by two groups, one from each side of the ‘peaceline’, are interrogated. This analysis of anti-racist visual representations is divided into two sections; one focusing on murals and the other on posters and pamphlets. Within each section images produced by the West Against Racism Network (WARN) based on the Republican Falls Road are presented first, followed by those produced by Shankill Alternatives from the Loyalist Shankill Road. This analysis interrogates the complex, uncertain relationship between visions of a ‘normal’, multicultural Northern Ireland and infrastructures of sectarianism. Here I explore the extent to which the persistence of dimensions of another form of division and discrimination (sectarianism) within these anti-racist representations complicates their anti-racist message. At the same time, the very existence of these anti-racist campaigns in an area like West Belfast suggests that discourses of difference beyond the ‘two traditions’ binary have begun to permeate through Northern Irish society. The example of one specific anti-racist mural and responses to sectarian messages in an anti-racist booklet suggests that sometimes emergent multicultural processes have the potential to challenge sectarianism and contribute to the construction of a new, multicultural Northern Ireland. 7.2. Spatial Segregation and Visual Culture in Northern Ireland Recent work examining the idea of place within human geography has highlighted the ways in which identity is produced and performed spatially (Cresswell 2004; Pile and 173 Thrift 1995). The spatialisation of identity is predicated on the delineation of boundaries in social space (Barth 1969; Cohen 1985; Sack 1986). In Northern Ireland the creation of territory, or ‘spaces of identity’, is often founded on the inclusion of those with the same religious affiliation and the exclusion of the sectarian ‘Other’ (Gallaher and Shirlow 2006: 149). Territoriality is a means of communicating boundaries and social control which can allow for the classification of individuals based on where they live: a practice which is common in Northern Ireland (Burton 1979; Sack 1986). The construction of boundaries in sectarian terms at the local scale has dictated the nature and course of the Northern Irish conflict (Anderson and Shuttleworth 1998; Boal and Douglas 1982). Belfast, which Boal (2002: 691) describes as ‘the ethno-national city’, is characterised by street-by-street divisions along religious lines, and over 77% of residents live in areas that can be defined as segregated (Boal 2002: 689, Poole 1983).68 This residential segregation, and its attendant effects on the production of micro-territoriality at the local level, has contributed to the maintenance of sectarian division, particularly in Belfast (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). Although all identities rely on the simultaneous delineation of difference and similarity, the processes and practices by which boundaries are symbolically and materially formed and maintained may vary greatly (Barth 1969; Cohen 1985; Cresswell 2004; Paasi 1996). Visual, material and symbolic cultures, such as art, language, stories and cultural institutions, are integral to the production of ethnic and national identity in social space (Billig 1995). In Northern Ireland the process of territorial definition, and consequent identity formation, relies on the quite unique use of specific types of visual and material culture. The identity of streets and, by extension, communities as Catholic/Nationalist or Protestant/Unionist is often achieved by the symbolic displaying of ‘territorial markers’ such as murals and flags or the painting of kerbstones (Feldman 1991; Jarman 1995; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). In this way, local spaces are linked to different territorial units at the national scale, from the island of Ireland, to the constitutional link with Britain and even the notion of an independent Northern Ireland (Jarman 1997; Rolston 1991; 1992; 1995; 2003a). Murals, flags and kerb paintings all help (re)produce 68 Streets are classified as segregated if over 90% of residents belong to one communal grouping (Boal and Douglas 1982). 174 narratives about the community in which they are located, bolstering in-group social identity in many working-class areas at the same time as creating a boundary with the out-group (Buckley and Kenney 1995). This chapter looks at anti-racist messages produced in murals, posters and pamphlets because these mediums that are often used to construct sectarian boundaries (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006) are now also being used to carry an anti-racist message. Before moving onto this empirical material, it is important to consider in more detail the most graphic and powerful example of this visual culture in Northern Ireland: the political mural. 7.2.1. Murals in Northern Ireland Murals, often painted on the gable ends of houses and in other prominent positions, are the most notable and arguably the most interesting visual feature of sectarian division and territoriality in Northern Ireland (Jarman 1995; 1997). Despite their current ubiquity, particularly in urban areas, the history of political murals is surprisingly non-linear. Murals are now a feature of both Republican and Loyalist areas, but, for a long time, the tradition of mural painting was exclusively Loyalist (Jarman 1998). The first Loyalist mural was painted in Belfast around 1908, and the practice gained in popularity from that time on (Rolston 1992: i). Following the partition of the island in 1921, mural painting, alongside other practices such as flag flying and flower displays, became an integral part of the July commemorations of the Battle of the Boyne.69 Mural painting became an established part of a symbolic commemorative cycle by which the political and cultural identity of the new Northern Irish state was (re)produced (Jarman 1998). At this time most murals were depictions of William of Orange (King Billy), often unveiled during the July celebrations by prominent Unionist politicians. During the Stormont era, murals were a central part of a series of symbolic practices which served to unite all classes of Protestant/Unionists behind a common cultural identity (Rolston 1992). In 69 The Battle of the Boyne was the major turning point in the Jacobite and Willamite war. This war was very much a sectarian conflict, pitting the Protestant William of Orange against the Catholic King James II. The Battle of the Boyne took place on July 1 1690 outside the town of Drogheda in Co. Louth. William’s forces trounced those of James and an overall victory for the Protestant Williamite army was achieved. The battle is a key part of Protestant/Unionist folklore and is commemorated annually by the Orange Institutions on July 12th (McNally 2005). 175 direct contrast, Catholic/Nationalist culture, which includes things like the Irish language and Gaelic games, was denied recognition and space in the public sphere. While the painting and unveiling of murals was often a public event for Unionists, ‘[p]ainting murals was not a civic duty for nationalists; more, it would have led to severe harassment by the armed police of the Unionist state’ (Rolston 1992: iii). The tradition of Republican mural painting is surprisingly recent. The first example of Republicans using wall painting to produce a political message occurred in Derry in January 1969. Here the residents of the Bogside erected barriers to exclude security forces and proclaimed ‘You are Now Entering Free Derry’ on a gable wall in St. Columb’s Street (Jarman 1998: 85). Rather than celebrating the Unionist origins of the state, this mural was an act of civil disobedience by Catholic/Nationalist residents declaring the independence of the Bogside from the state.70 Although this is an example of Republicans using murals at the very beginning of ‘the Troubles’, the medium only truly became popular with Republicans at the beginning of the 1980s. Nevertheless, as the violence intensified during the 1970s, Loyalist mural painting virtually disappeared. One reason for this was the increasing insecurity felt by many Loyalists about pledging allegiance to a British state that appeared willing to negotiate with its sworn enemies; the government of the Republic of Ireland and Nationalists in Northern Ireland (Rolston 1991; 1992). The contemporary era of mural painting only really began when, during the spring and summer of 1981, murals in support of the Hunger Strikers began to appear in Republican areas (Rolston 1992).71 When the Hunger Strikes ended, however, Republicans did not 70 The Bogside is an overwhelmingly Catholic/Nationalist residential area that is located just outside the historic walls of Derry city. It was here, on January 30th 1972, that Bloody Sunday took place. At this pivotal event in the recent history of Northern Ireland 26 civil rights protestors were shot by members of the 1st Battalion of the British Parachute Regiment (13 died of their injuries) during a Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association march. This incident did much to boost the status of the Republican cause and increase recruitment to the IRA (Moloney 2007). 71 The Hunger Strikes were a series of political hunger protests staged by Republicans in the Maze prison in 1980 and 1981. The Hunger Strikes were the culmination of five years of protest by Republican prisoners against the British government’s withdrawal of Special Category Status for convicted paramilitary prisoners. During the second Hunger Strike, in 1981, one hunger striker, Bobby Sands, won a parliamentary by-election and was elected MP for Fermanagh and South Tyrone. By the time the strike was called off, ten Republican prisoners had died. However, the campaign brought much national 176 abandon their new medium, instead they began to diversify the number and content of murals. The emergence of Republican murals was perceived by many Loyalists as a challenge to what had once been their exclusive symbolic form (Rolston 1992). In the mid-1980s, the tradition of mural painting was revived in many Loyalist areas, and murals were used to reflect their indignation, and often violent opposition, towards the Anglo-Irish Agreement signed in November 1985. Since this time, mural painting has become an accepted feature of both Loyalist and Republican areas; a practice that, despite the changing political situations, looks unlikely to stop in the near future (Rolston 2003a; 2003b). Despite using the same medium, Loyalist and Republican murals are very different. Bill Rolston (1992) separates Loyalist murals into six broad categories. The first, and most obvious, category is the ‘King Billy’ murals. Although representations of William of Orange were the dominant feature of murals until the 1970s, during the 1990s these depictions declined significantly (Rolston 1995). A second category includes painted flags, particularly the Union Jack, the Northern Irish flag and the Saltire, which are prominent in many Loyalist murals, often appearing alongside the Red Hand of Ulster. A third category includes murals that have historical themes, particularly World War I and the Battle of the Somme, as well as more traditional references to the Battle of the Boyne. A fourth category of mural includes those with military images which emerged from 1986 and the time of the violent Loyalist opposition to the Anglo-Irish Agreement. From this time the subjects and tone of Loyalist ‘murals were no longer about Orange celebrations or unity but were declarations of territoriality’ (Rolston 2003b: 9). The main military images used were threatening figures in balaclavas clasping guns (Rolston 1992). The fifth category identified by Rolston (1992) is the memorial mural that was used to commemorate the activities and paramilitary affiliation of fallen comrades. The sixth, and final, category of murals is less serious, cartoon-style murals. These comic murals were particularly popular among the followers of the notorious UDA leader Johnny ‘Mad Dog’ Adair who appropriated a cartoon bulldog (a prominent British symbol) as his emblem (Rolston 1995). sympathy for the Republican movement and directly contributed to Sinn Fein’s subsequent electoral success (Moloney 2007). 177 Republican murals share common themes with Loyalist murals but also exhibit significant differences. While the roots of Loyalist mural painting lie in the commemoration of William of Orange, ‘[f]rom the very beginning … contemporary military images were prominent in Republican murals’ (Rolston 1992: iv). These early murals often depicted IRA volunteers and their activities. As with Loyalist murals, flags and historical themes are common in Republican paintings. However, the flag used is generally the Irish Tricolour, and the historical events refer to significant moments in Republican history as well as much older Gaelic legends. The tendency to commemorate dead combatants is shared by both Loyalist and Republican painters. The Hunger Strikers (particularly Bobby Sands), Liam Mellows and the Gibraltar Three have all appeared on murals in Republican areas.72 Unlike Loyalists, Republicans have used the medium to draw attention to and protest against wider issues such as repression by the British state, prison conditions and media censorship (Rolston 1992). One of the most significant differences in mural themes is in the scope of their symbolic associations. While Loyalist murals tend to only depict Ulster (though occasionally they refer to Scotland and the Ulster-Scots in North America), Republican murals often claim membership of a global anti-imperialist movement (Rolston 2003b). ‘[T]he struggle of Republicans in Ireland has been compared to that of people elsewhere in the world’, and representations of important figures like Malcolm X and Che Guevara, as well as paintings in support of Basque separatists and the cause of the Palestinians, have all featured in Republican murals at different times (Rolston 1992: iv). The visual culture of political murals is integral to the construction of particular narratives of sectarian identity – of similarity and difference – in Loyalist and Republican areas (Sluka 1997). All but the most politically naïve are aware of the significance of representations such as the Union Jack or the island of Ireland. These murals depict a range of different scenes, political visions and alternative interpretations of the conflict; all of which aid the (re)production of sectarian identities in the areas where they are displayed. However, in focusing purely on the symbols and images used 72 Liam Mellows was an Irish Republican who fought on the anti-Treaty side in the Irish Civil War and was executed by the Free State government on December 8th 1922 for his part in the seizure of the Four Courts in Dublin. The Gibraltar Three were three members of the IRA shot dead by the SAS on March 6th 1988 as they allegedly prepared to bomb a military parade taking place on the island. 178 in murals, there has been a downplaying of the materiality of murals themselves. Murals are ‘more artefact than art’; they are material objects which are located in, and constitutive of, social space (Jarman 1998: 81). Murals take meaning from, and give meaning to, the sites in which they are located: ‘their very location affects how they are interpreted and what they mean, while the location is used and treated differently because of the presence of the paintings’ (Jarman 1998: 81). Political murals segregate space; transforming otherwise mundane rows of housing into either welcoming or hostile territory (Jarman 1997). This transformation of public space into politicised space through the displaying of murals is central to the (re)production of sectarian territoriality in Northern Ireland. While images of labour, recreation and famous former residents have all appeared on different murals at one time or another (Rolston 1992; 1995), since the ceasefires and the signing of the Agreement in 1998 there have been subtle changes in the content of murals, reflecting changes in Northern Irish society (Rolston 2003a; 2003b). Funds made available by the Department of Social Development for the removal of paramilitary murals is one reason for this change. Another is a desire to broaden the political debate beyond sectarian violence; Republicans, in particular, have begun to use the medium to engage with wider debates around issues such as equality and social justice (Rolston 2003b). Though cognizant of the role of murals in the (re)production and spatialisation of sectarian identities, Bill Rolston (2003a: 3) asks that we ‘view murals not merely as artefacts, as products of artistic and political activity, but as innately bound up with political activity.’ As an important facet of political activity in many areas, new messages painted on murals offer a lens through which to investigate contemporaneous social processes and the emergence of new political agendas, such as anti-racism. 7.3. Locating Anti-racism(s) in West Belfast Before looking at the emergence of anti-racist movements in West Belfast, it is important to outline the general character of the area, which is one of the most heavily segregated locales in Northern Ireland (see Figure 7.1). West Belfast has been described 179 as a microcosm within which is encapsulated the wider history of sectarian division and violence of Northern Ireland since the Plantations (Boal and Livingstone 1984). During the seventeenth century Catholics were kept outside Belfast city walls and settled west of the city boundary in an area known as ‘the Falls’ (Aretxaga 1997). West Belfast is still home to mainly Catholics. The Falls Road is now the main artery running through what is often referred to as ‘Republican West Belfast’ (see Figure 7.2), an area stretching from Divis Street near the city centre all the way out to the housing estates of Twinbrook and Poleglass beyond the western edge of the city limits. Although the local MP is the president of Sinn Fein, Gerry Adams, West Belfast also includes the staunchly Loyalist Shankill area. The Shankill, home to around 22,000 working-class Protestants, is centred around the long, straight Shankill Road which runs almost parallel to, but a couple of hundred metres north of, the Falls (see Figure 7.2). Figure 7.1: Residential segregation along religious lines in Belfast based on the 1991 Census. Catholic and Protestant majorities are represented in green and red respectively. The area circled in light green is the Shankill/Falls area (Source: http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/images/maps/belfast_religion.gif) 180 The sectarian tensions across the segregated Falls/Shankill divide directly contributed to the eruption in sectarian violence that became ‘the Troubles’ (Boal 1969). In the summer of 1969, Loyalists from the Shankill Road carried out pogroms against their Catholic neighbours. This led to massive displacement of people in the area, the closing off of all connecting streets and the erection of a series of ‘peacelines’ (high metal walls that separate the two communities of West Belfast from each other). Violence, ranging from ‘recreational rioting’ at the ‘interface’ between the two areas to random abductions and murders, has played a major role in the (re)production of strong sectarian identities in both areas since (Aretxaga 1997; Burton 1978; Dowler 2001; Feldman 1991). Figure 7.2: Map of West Belfast showing the Shankill and Falls Roads (Source: http://maps.google.co.uk) Sectarian boundaries in West Belfast are also defined and control within these boundaries maintained through the construction of narratives of identity in visual culture (Dowler 2001; Jarman 1998; Rolston 1992). The entrance to the Shankill road, which is a five minute walk west of the city centre, is signified by a series of large, prominent murals valorising Loyalist paramilitaries. Red, white and blue bunting on every lamppost mirrors the paint that adorns every kerbstone. Murals are located on almost every corner, sometimes even on the street itself. These representations draw on many of the themes and categories discussed earlier in relation to the general character of 181 Loyalist murals. Traditional depictions of King Billy and military images of masked Loyalist paramilitaries carrying weapons are particularly popular on the Shankill (see Figure 7.3). Likewise, the murals on the other side of the peaceline reflect broader categorisations of Republican murals. Military images of IRA gunmen adorn many gable walls, often appearing alongside representations of the Hunger Strikers and other fallen comrades (see Figure 7.4) (Dowler 2001). With separate social and economic services, the two communities in West Belfast exist almost independently of one another (Shirlow 2003), and the visual culture on display on the Shankill and Falls Roads reflect the different (sectarian) social identities prevalent in the two areas (Jarman 1997; Rolston 2003a). Figure 7.3: Ulster Volunteer Force memorial, Shankill Road (Source: http://cain.ulst.ac.uk/images/photos/belfast/shankill/shankillmural4r.jpg) 182 Figure 7.4: Mural to Bobby Sands, Falls Road (Source: Author) The labour market in West Belfast remains deeply segregated, with both Catholics and Protestants fearful of working on the Shankill and the Falls respectively (Green, Shuttleworth and Lavery 2005). Despite this labour market segregation, West Belfast has witnessed increased migration in recent years as people have come to live and work in the area. Although anecdotal evidence suggests that the influx of migrants from Eastern Europe to West Belfast has not been as great as in other parts of the city, significant numbers of Filipinos have moved to the area to be close to their work in the Royal Victoria Hospital (Bell, Jarman and Lefebvre 2004). As migrants move into West Belfast, there have been media reports of racist incidents, most notably attacks on these same Filipino nurses (Bell, Jarman and Lefebvre 2004). However, only 18 racist incidents were reported in West Belfast in 2006 compared with 82 in East Belfast and 126 in the South of the city (PSNI 2007). These low figures may reflect a lack of confidence in the police amongst racialised minorities and a fear (discussed earlier) of inviting them into Republican area (see Chapter Six). While this may be case, there also seems to be a high degree of support for anti-racist agendas in West Belfast. The local media has celebrated the relative absence of racist incidents (see Figure 7.5), and grassroots anti-racist groups have been formed in the area. 183 Figure 7.5: ‘Race crime: west bottom of league’, The Andersonstown News 7/11/05, p. 1 The anti-racist groups operating in West Belfast were the most visible and active of such groups encountered during the fieldwork. The West Against Racism Network (WARN), founded in 2004, defines itself as ‘a grassroots anti-racism campaign based in West Belfast … to challenge individualised and institutionalised racism and to build a genuinely anti-racist culture in West Belfast’ (WARN 2006: np). This group is based in the Falls Road area of West Belfast (encircled in green in Figure 7.1 and shown in more detail in Figure 7.2). Although WARN is made up mainly of local white residents, members of racialised minorities in the area have also been involved in the group’s activities. Representatives from WARN have been very prominent in the local media, speaking on BBC Northern Ireland about racism in Belfast and also contributing regularly to The Andersonstown News.73 As well as organizing a vigil in response to attacks on the homes of Filipino nurses, WARN have been involved in a number of different campaigns, including the painting of an anti-racist mural. The visual culture produced by these anti-racist campaigns is examined later in this chapter. 73 The Andersonstown News is a popular Nationalist aligned twice weekly newspaper based in West Belfast. 184 Grassroots anti-racist initiatives have also emerged on the Loyalist Shankill Road (see Figures 7.1 and 7.2). As has been noted in studies of the emergence of anti-racism in other contexts (Detant 2005; Lentin 2004), this anti-racist campaign on the Shankill Road emerged in response to racist incidents in the area. In the autumn of 2005, local youths were involved in a racially motivated attack on the home of a Muslim family on the Shankill Road. These youths were referred by local paramilitaries to Shankill Alternatives, a Community Restorative Justice program on the Upper Shankill.74 Shankill Alternatives decided to involve these youths in an anti-racism awareness campaign before racism became a major issue in the area (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). The Loyalist Commission and a prominent local Loyalist politician, Tommy Kircham, pledged support for this anti-racism campaign which was entitled ‘Showing Your True Colours’.75 This initiative involved the youths participating in a cultural exchange with a similar group from Nottingham as well as taking part in an anti-racist training session with a local facilitator and the painting of an anti-racist mural in a local school. As such, both WARN and Shankill Alternatives have been involved in producing anti-racist murals. In fact, West Belfast was the only location in which any anti-racist murals were found during the fieldwork.76 The content and context of these anti-racist murals is discussed in detail in the sections that follow. 7.3.1. Republican – WARN mural: ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ As outlined in Chapter Three, the analysis of visual representations can provide important insights into social processes and phenomena that may not be possible through other means (Barnard 2001). As artefacts, murals are material objects located in space 74 Community Restorative Justice (CRJ) is a form of social/community criminal justice that focuses on crime as an act against another individual or a community rather than the state. CRJ groups have been active on both sides of the West Belfast ‘peaceline’. In Northern Ireland, as elsewhere, CRJ has been quite a contentious issue. At one stage during my research, funding was withdrawn from all groups following concerns about paramilitary involvement in these projects, but subsequently most groups have had their funding reinstated. 75 The Loyalist Commission is an unelected body representing all the main Loyalist paramilitary groups: the Ulster Defence Association (UDA), the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF) and the Red Hand Commando (RHC). 76 Throughout my fieldwork I asked interviewees and other contacts about the existence of anti-racist murals. The only murals mentioned were those in West Belfast. I also personally looked out for relevant murals in South, North, East and West Belfast (as well as in Lisburn) but only found those discussed in this chapter. 185 and composites of text and images (Jarman 1997). Discourse analysis is a method that allows for an examination of such texts by taking a close look at the images themselves and the objects which carry them (Tonkiss 1998). Having selected the image to be analysed, the first step in the discourse analysis that follows will be to look at the iconographic story of the image and, in particular, the way in which images are used to construct narratives of social identity and difference. Second, after considering some of the mural’s main iconographic features, the social context of the mural’s production will be examined. This discussion will consider who produced the mural, where it is located and what images surround it. Figure 7.6: ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural, Divis street, West Belfast (Source: Author) The wall mural in Figure 7.6, entitled ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’, juxtaposes the experiences of the Irish in London during the 1960s with those of present day migrants 186 to Belfast. The image adopted in this mural is of two guesthouse windows side by side; a thick blue line running through the centre producing a demarcation between the window on the left, representing a London window of 1966, and the window on the right, representing a Belfast window of 2005. The sign hanging in the London 1966 guesthouse window reads ‘No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish’. The reference of this window and its sign is clearly historical, representing common prejudicial and exclusionary refrains of the time in which certain human categories were so demeaned they were unapologetically equated with animals (Hickman and Walter 1997; Leavey, Sembhi and Livingston 2004). The sign hanging in the Belfast 2005 window reads, in contrast, ‘No Racism, No Bigotry, No Prejudice’. While the former sign reports on how it was, the latter points forward to a tolerant and inclusionary vision of the future. This message relies upon the highlighting of the parallel experience of anti-Irish discrimination in London in the 1960s and contemporary prejudices and racism in Belfast. This image looks forward to a Belfast in which racists, bigots and prejudice are the unwelcome ‘guests’ in a more inclusive and tolerant society. In drawing parallels between the Irish experience of discrimination in London in the 1960s and racism in present day Belfast, the mural visually links the experiences of prejudice and discrimination suffered by people of colour and the Irish. In particular, the appearance of ‘No Blacks’ alongside ‘No Irish’ in the sign in the London 1966 window was part of a conscious attempt on the part of the artist to make the viewer consider the relationship between these two prejudicial refrains (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07).77 However, as well as being on the receiving end of discrimination, the Irish themselves have historically been involved in racism (McVeigh 1992). Writing on the situation in antebellum United States, Noel Ignatiev (1995) argues that the Irish became oppressors of Black people as they actively sought to enter the ‘white’ ‘race’. Consequently, the Irish ‘[i]nstead of seeing their struggles as bound up with those of colonized and coloured people around the world … came to see their struggles as against such people’ (Roediger 1992: 136-7). Gillian Rose (2001) asks us to also look for what is absent in visual representations. In the mural in Figure 7.6, an acknowledgement of the involvement of some Irish people in racism is absent. The absence of a reference to Irish 77 I have used a pseudonym to refer to the mural artist to protect his identity. 187 racism in the mural might reinforce the sense that racism is a problem in other (Loyalist) areas and does not happen in Catholic/Nationalist communities. As we found in Chapter Six, the sense of solidarity between the Catholic/Nationalist community and ethnically- identified minorities in Northern Ireland may create a situation in which racism in some Catholic/Nationalist areas is denied and goes unchallenged. The iconography of the mural in Figure 7.6 seeks to link the discrimination experienced by emigrant Irish communities and racism in contemporary Belfast, though it does not engage with the racist behaviour exhibited by white minorities like the Irish. The second step in the discourse analysis is to consider the social context, the ‘external narrative’ (Banks 2001), of an image or text. The text’s social context refers to who is producing the discourse and in what circumstances (Tonkiss 1998). The ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural was commissioned by WARN and painted in May 2005 to coincide with an anti-racist campaign to create a ‘Republic of Conscience’, a reference to a Seamus Heaney poem of the same name, in West Belfast. The use of a mural in this campaign reflects changes in the nature of political murals in West Belfast. Since the IRA ceasefires, murals are no longer used to recruit volunteers for ‘the struggle’ but rather to discuss issues that emerge in the community (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07). The mural in Figure 7.6 replaced a mural in support of a campaign for the freedom of the Native American Leonard Peltier who was jailed in the 1970s for killing two FBI agents. At a time when A Shared Future includes an explicit commitment to the replacement of threatening paramilitary murals with non-sectarian images (OFMDFM 2005a: 18), this mural reflects the emergence of concerns around racism in West Belfast (Interview with Anti-racist Network, 06/05/06). As the artist explained, mural painting is often a creative exchange between the group who approach the artist to paint the mural and the artist himself. In this instance, the mural’s theme and the images used arose initially from suggestions made by members of the WARN anti-racist group and which were developed further by the mural artist (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07). The ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural is located on a very popular and prominent mural wall on Divis Street which is the main entrance to the Falls Road from Belfast city centre. While there has been a net loss of mural space in Belfast, McCormick and 188 Jarman (2005: 60) identify the Divis Street wall as a particularly successful location where artistic merit is high, situation is propitious and ownership is not contested.78 Officially this wall is the property of the Andrews Flour Mill that it bounds, but it has been appropriated by ‘Marty’, the main Republican mural artist in the Falls Road area. The use of this wall for political murals began in 1993 when Marty approached the owners of the Mill seeking permission to paint on the wall. When the owners declined, Marty surreptitiously began painting on the wall, and six months later the first mural (a protest against the use of plastic bullets by the British Army in West Belfast) appeared on the site (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07). Marty has been using the wall continuously since. His relatively high profile in the area has afforded him de facto control of the wall and he is personally involved in all paintings that appear on it. In order to get a mural space on the Divis Street wall it is necessary for the proposed mural to reflect well defined artistic and political qualities as stipulated by Marty. All murals on this wall are seen as reflective of ‘the Nationalist community standing firm with people from oppressed nations’ and invoke international, national and local themes and subjects (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07). As noted earlier in the discussion of Republican murals, Republicans have long made such symbolic associations with anti-Imperialism and struggles for national liberation (Coulter 1999; Rolston 2003b), and the mural in Figure 7.6 was seen as an extension of this linkage (Interview with Marty, Belfast, 05/12/07). Political murals also take their meaning from the murals which surround them (Jarman 1997). An anti-Iraq war mural is located to the left of the anti-racist mural, with a painting in support of Republican prisoners in Maghaberry Prison to its right. This juxtaposition of images invites the viewer to perceive the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural’s anti-racist message as congruent with anti-war/anti-Imperialist discourses on the one hand and Irish Republican causes on the other. Further down the Divis Street mural wall the same artist painted a mural in homage to the African-American leader Fredrick Douglass (see Figure 7.7). Douglass was a freed slave and abolitionist who toured 78 McCormick and Jarman (2005: 55) suggest a number of reasons for this reduction in murals and mural spaces in Belfast. The main causes of this reduction identified by the authors are retirement (wear and tear of the mural), redevelopment of the mural site, reclamation of the site by a local community opposed to the mural’s message and redundancy of the mural’s message. 189 Ireland during the famine of 1845-46; noting, as he did so, the mournful similarities between slavery songs and Irish songs (Roediger 1992: 134). Figure 7.7: Fredrick Douglass mural, Divis Street, Belfast (Source: Author) Unlike the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural, the mural in Figure 7.7 includes an acknowledgement of both the Irish experience of racism and the racism practiced by some Irish people, particularly in America. As the quote to the right hand side of the bust of Douglass states, ‘perhaps no class has carried prejudice against colour to a point more dangerous than have the Irish and yet no people have been more relentlessly oppressed on account of race and religion’. Although the mural in Figure 7.7 echoes the anti-colonial sentiments of murals in support of Nelson Mandela and struggles in Angola and Mexico (Rolston 2003b), the conscious reference to racism committed by the Irish in a political mural is novel. Producing this message in a medium traditionally used to carry only positive images of Ireland and Irish Republicanism demonstrates willingness to engage with a less attractive side of Irish history: namely racism (Garner 2004). So 190 while the racism committed by some Irish people is absent from the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural, the near-by mural to Fredrick Douglass acknowledges the possibility that Irish people can be racist themselves, implicitly calling on the people of West Belfast to be anti-racist. The murals in Figures 7.6 and 7.7 graphically illustrate that anti-racism has become an accepted political message in West Belfast, so much so that it adorns arguably the most prominent mural wall in Northern Ireland. However, ‘recycling’, the replacement of old murals with new images, is very high on the Divis Street wall (McCormick and Jarman 2005), and, in late 2006, the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural was painted over. Yet the Douglass mural remains, and there are plans for a new anti-racist mural on the Divis Street wall (Interview with Marty, 05/12/07): this suggests the strength of both WARN and the mural’s anti-racist message. As well as being clearly visible to almost everyone entering and leaving ‘Republican’ West Belfast for over two years, the representation in Figure 7.6 was used on other WARN materials, such as an information pack, and reproduced in the local media (see Figure 7.8). Although the mural as a material object has ceased to exist, the representation itself continues to circulate. Figure 7.8: Reproduction of 'Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism' mural, The Andersonstown News 7/11/05, p10 191 The ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural relies heavily on images and narratives rooted in Irish Republicanism. The use of Celtic motifs, such as the WARN symbol in the right- hand guesthouse window representing Belfast 2005, and Gaelic phrases would leave most local viewers in no doubt that this is both an anti-racist and a Republican mural.79 The location of the mural and the social identities of the vast majority of the local audience who were exposed to its message support this reading. Although Alana Lentin (2004) argues that anti-racist campaigns generally reflect the political culture of the nation-state in which they emerge, in Northern Ireland the nation-state itself is a contested and problematic construction. In this quite unique context, the discourse produced by this anti-racist mural appears to reflect the more specific political culture of Irish Republicanism in Northern Ireland. The mural’s call for solidarity between Irish and racialised groups is an example of how Republican murals ‘at their best’, according to Bill Rolston (2003a: 11), ‘educate, promote debate and encourage the best, most progressive elements in their community.’ The WARN mural, as well as the text of the mural to Douglass, may be understood as elements of an anti-racist ‘public pedagogy’ (Giroux 2004) aimed at educating the people of West Belfast. Indeed, highlighting the similarity between discrimination experienced by Irish migrants and contemporary migrants has been identified as central to the building of an anti-racist movement across Ireland (Garner 2004). Although the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural constructs its progressive, anti-racist message through iconography and narratives drawn from the ‘Irish’ experience, it does so in a context where Irish is a politically loaded term associated with Republicanism. The focus on the experiences of the Irish only constructs a narrative which only speaks to Catholic/Nationalists – Protestant/Unionists are totally absent and alienated. The mural could be read as an attempt to demonstrate to minorities how similar they are to the Irish, in the process appropriating racialised ‘Others’ into a Republican political position. The way in which sectarian issues and considerations complicate this anti- racist representation and its message is clearly demonstrated by the choice of medium and location. As noted, murals play a powerful role in affirming the sectarian identity of social space (Jarman 1998; Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). This mural and those that 79 ‘Cuir Stad le Ciniochas’, the phrase at the top of the mural, means ‘say no to racism’ in Irish. 192 surround it all contribute to the construction of the area as ‘Republican’ West Belfast; as such, they (re)produce dominant sectarian narratives of space and identity at the same time as they produce an anti-racist message. 7.3.2. Loyalist – Shankill Alternatives mural: ‘Declare War on Racism’ The image in Figure 7.9 is taken from a mural organised by Shankill Alternatives and painted by local youths in the Loyalist Shankill Road area of West Belfast. Unlike Figures 7.6 and 7.7, this mural was not painted on an outdoor wall but on a series of wooden panels and erected in a local school. The reason for this will be discussed later but first, as with the analysis of the WARN mural, the iconography of the image will be attended to (Tonkiss 1998). Figure 7.9: Declare War on Racism mural, Mount Gilbert School, Ballygomartin Road, West Belfast (Source: Author) This mural’s ‘internal narrative’ (Banks 2001) is framed by the phrase ‘Declare War on Racism’ in bold black print in the centre of the image; the word ‘war’ is highlighted in red. Below are gravestones surrounded by bright red poppies, open-handed salutes and 193 single words and phrases. The precise historical setting depicted is unclear. At its unveiling the artist talked about the Battle of the Somme and the World War I graves in Belgium which is a popular image in many Loyalist murals (Gallaher and Shirlow 2006; Rolston 2003b). However, an interviewee from Alternatives suggested that the graves were from World War II to show how ‘these ethnic minorities fought with Ulsterman. They died along with us to fight fascism, to fight Nazi Germany when Ulstermen fought against fascism and racism’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). Regardless of the exact site, the dominant theme is that racism is something which must be fought. As such, the analogy of war and invasion which frames many racist discourses of nation (Gilroy 2001) is inverted through an appeal to the Loyalist experience of World Wars as a reason for pursuing an anti-racist agenda. Nevertheless, this message of anti-racist support and understanding through war is extremely contradictory and suggests a tension between militaristic Ulster Loyalism (Gallaher and Shirlow 2006) and anti-racist conceptions of solidarity and representation (Garner 2004; Lentin 2004). That said, the mural also simply communicates that there is a desire to see racism and racist jibes dead and buried. The offensive terms daubed on other stones, such as ‘Paki’, ‘Nigger’ and ‘Chink’, symbolise their removal from everyday speech – ‘the burying and putting to bed of these terms’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). As well as words like “slavery” and “exterminate”, the names of two concentration camps (Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen) occupy prominent positions on either side of the red hand in the centre of the frame. The systematic annihilation of Europe’s Jewish population during the Second World War was a product of the Nazi’s explicitly racial policies (Goldberg 2006). This reference to the camps speaks to the horrors inflicted when racist ideologies are followed to their limits and to the need to challenge such ideologies in everyday life. Like the Republican mural discussed in the previous section, this mural draws on incidence of racism in previous times and places to communicate an important message about local racisms. As noted, war is a prominent theme in this mural. The headstones are inscribed with the names of dead service personnel: for example ‘Rifleman Smyth Royal Irish Rifles’ appears on a stone in the extreme-right corner. Although Catholic and Protestant 194 Irishmen were involved in both World Wars, the sacrifice of working-class Protestants from areas like the Shankill is an integral anchor for Loyalist identity and is intimately bound up with the history of Ulster Loyalism (Brown 2007). The Remembrance Day Poppy, which is dotted throughout the mural, was initially used to commemorate the dead of World War I. The symbol has long been the preserve of the Unionist community, and nowadays it is seen as unequivocally British (Graham and Shirlow 2002). The wearing of a flower on Remembrance Day or ‘poppy day’ imputes political and sectarian identity on the wearer. The reliance on this symbol connects the mural and its anti-racist message to Loyalist identities and narratives. The Red Hand is perhaps the most instantly recognisable symbol of Ulster Loyalism; it is incorporated in the Northern Irish flag and also appears frequently in Loyalist mural paintings (Rolston 1992; 2003b). At more than double the height of any of the other hands, the image of the Red Hand dominates the centre of the mural. The large red hand is flanked by representations of other, smaller, more distant white, black and brown hands. The intention behind the inclusion of the Red Hand was to identify the mural with Loyalism as the Red Hand is ‘very closely associated with Loyalism’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). According to one of the youths speaking at the launch, hands of different colours were painted alongside the Red Hand to signify racialised minorities living on the Shankill (Unidentified youth, Showing Your True Colours launch, 16/11/05). This co-presence of hands of many colours implies a vision of inter-racial cohabitation. However, the different scale and positioning of the hands carries a more ambiguous meaning. Are these other non-red hands destined to be equals to the red Loyalist hand, or is this to be diversity with Loyalist authority? Whatever the future that is imagined, the mural seems to suggest that the work of anti-racism, the discretion to accept or reject racialised minorities, lays largely in the hands of white Loyalists (Hage 2000). The ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural was painted by local youths from the Shankill Road with guidance from ‘Jackie’, a local artist. These youths both worked on the mural on their own (see Figure 7.10) and alongside victims of racist attacks in the area (see Figure 7.11). Looking more closely at these pictures we can see that the mural changed quite 195 significantly during its production. In an earlier version representations of brown hands occupy the very centre of the frame (see Figure 7.10), but by the time the finished article went on display a large red hand had taken their place (see Figure 7.9). Noticing this inconsistency, I spoke once again with Shankill Alternatives, and they said that they had voiced concerns to Jackie that the mural should focus on symbols of Loyalism and Loyalist heritage (Personal Communication, Shankill Alternatives, 12/03/08). These changes in the mural’s content reinforce the argument that its producers wanted this supposedly anti-racist object to be more Loyalist, and consequently, during its production, the focus shifted from anti-racism (Figure 7.10) to an increasing importance being placed on Loyalist representations (see Figure 7.9). Figure 7.10: Local Youths Painting Declare War on Racism Mural (Source: Shankill Alternatives) The mural was painted on four boards (see Figure 7.10) in a local community centre which were then moved to the Mount Gilbert School on the Ballygomartin Road; a short walk from the Alternatives centre in the Upper Shankill.80 After being erected in the 80 While the Shankill area is almost entirely Protestant (see Figure 7.1), the Shankill Road itself is also divided along paramilitary lines (Gallaher and Shirlow 2006). The Lower Shankill is controlled largely by 196 assembly hall of this secondary school the mural was unveiled at the launch of the ‘Showing Your True Colours’ initiative on 16th November 2005. This event was comprised of a series of speeches by youth involved in the project, representatives from Alternatives, and Loyalist politicians as well as Chinese and Indian dancing (see Figure 7.12). At the launch, however, there was no representation from the ethnically-identified minorities who had worked on the project and the ‘multicultural’ dancing was provided by groups from other areas of Belfast. Figure 7.11: Involvement of victims of racialised attacks in mural painting (Source: Shankill Alternatives) As well as stressing the need for anti-racism in the area, the mural launch provided an opportunity for Shankill Alternatives to make a case for the merits of Community Restorative Justice (CRJ). According to one speaker, ‘we as a community need to take restorative justice seriously because it can transform communities … it can provide the UDA and the Mid- and Upper-Shankill Road are UVF affiliated areas. The Alternatives office is located on the Woodvale Road, an area dominated by the UVF. The effects of this practical and ideological division is discussed in detail in Gallaher and Shirlow (2006: 154-7), but the key point here is that the UVF are generally more sympathetic to progressive politics and pluralist ideas than the UDA. This disposition might explain why Alternatives is based on the Upper rather than Lower Shankill and might suggest that the mural’s anti-racist message would have a better reception in this part of the Shankill. 197 alternatives to paramilitary activity and allow other issues like racism to be tackled’ (Jimmy, Shankill Alternatives, Showing Your True Colours launch, 16/11/05). In this quote, CRJ is constructed as a tool for both anti-racism and community transformation. The importance of respecting and accommodating new comers was raised by one of the youths who worked on the mural: ‘the other hands (in the mural) are representative of other communities. To make our community more diverse … we can have the clenched fist or we can offer out the red hand of friendship’ (Unidentified youth, Showing Your True Colours launch, 16/11/05). As with the policy discourses examined in Chapter Five, cultural diversity is held up as something that can facilitate social transformation – in this case the transformation of the Loyalist community of the Shankill Road. In this context, anti-racism on the Shankill Road is constructed as a vehicle for tackling racism and other social problems and building a stronger Loyalist community. This interpretation of anti-racism sits rather uneasily with its characterisation as a radical, alternative political discourse which seeks to transform all social relations (Lloyd 1998; 2002). Instead, it suggests that anti-racism can strengthen Loyalist constructions of space, culture and identity at the same time as addressing problems of racism. As such, the mural and the story of its production reveal the extent to which multiculturalism and sectarianism are deeply imbricated in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. Figure 7.12: ‘Multicultural’ dancing at launch of Showing Your True Colours initiative (Source: Shankill Alternatives) 198 As one of the organisers of the ‘Declare War in Racism’ mural explained, the initiative was part of an effort to change public perceptions of the Shankill: ‘the more we can positively sell our community to the wider world the better’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). In the two years leading up to the campaign, the involvement of Loyalists in racist attacks in areas of Belfast, particularly in the south of the city, received much media attention (see Chapter Four). The ‘Showing Your True Colours’ initiative was a response to this situation and the need to be perceived to be challenging racism in Loyalist areas (Mervyn Gibson, Loyalist Commission, Showing Your True Colours launch, 16/11/05). However, the degree to which the mural and its message influenced people is uncertain. Although, as we have seen, its final message was contested and the inclusion of popular Loyalist symbols prioritised so that it would speak better to its target audience, the actual number of people who have been exposed to the mural has been extremely small. Since being unveiled, in November 2005, the mural, which was originally intended as a mobile artefact to be transferred easily between schools in different areas of Belfast, has remained out of sight in a store room in Mount Gilbert School. According to Shankill Alternatives, this occurred because in the immediate aftermath of the launch they were under threat of closure and did not have the resources to promote the mural.81 Since then funding has been secured, but the mural has not moved, rather the attention has shifted from anti-racism to anti-social behaviour issues on the Shankill (Personal Communication, Shankill Alternatives, 12/03/08). This shift in Alternatives’ focus coincided with a reduction in media attention on racism in Northern Ireland generally and in Loyalist areas in particular. This would seem to suggest that, perhaps, in the absence of unwanted publicity anti-racism is not as significant a concern as it had previously been. Murals are important and prominent features of the political process in Northern Ireland, but they do not act independently; they reflect the ideological context in which they are produced (Rolston 2003a). The differences in the two anti-racist murals analysed in this section reflects wider differences between the Republican and Loyalist murals displayed on either side of the West Belfast peaceline. While Republican murals on the Falls Road 81 Around this time a moratorium was placed on all CRJ funding, partly as a result of the continued refusal of Republicans to engage with the police. However, funding has since been re-instated and Alternatives remain in operation. 199 often speak of international solidarity, anti-Imperialism and the ‘Irish’ experience, those on the Shankill reflect the Loyalist character of the area through the use of symbols such as the Red Hand and the Union Jack (Rolston 2003b). In relying on specific symbols and narratives of identity and belonging associated with sectarian political identities to produce their anti-racist message, these murals could be accused of (re)producing sectarian constructions of space and identity. They often interpellate and incorporate ethnically-identified minorities into dominant, sectarian political positions and viewpoints. Yet, at the same time, the use of political murals to produce an anti-racist message in such a divided territory as West Belfast shows that the presence of cultural diversity is influencing sclerotic cultural practices grounded in sectarianism. The following section looks at the example of one anti-racist mural that gives hope that Northern Ireland really is moving forward to a multicultural future rather than simply becoming a sectarian society inflected with multiculturalism. 7.3.3. A glimmer of hope? Another anti-racist mural While this chapter has highlighted the existence of anti-racist groups on both sides of the Falls/Shankill peaceline, it has not, so far, examined the relationship between these groups. The research found little evidence of substantial contact between the groups involved in these anti-racist initiatives. The West Against Racism Network (WARN) are only active in the Falls area and displayed no plans to adapt their message for use on the Shankill. As a spokesperson for the group commented, ‘we’re not planning on going over there at the moment’ (Interview with Anti-racism Network, 06/05/06). Similarly, the Loyalist anti-racist project confined itself to the narrow geographical area of the Shankill Road. An interviewee involved with this project commented that ‘we invited all the anti-racisms over [to the launch of the ‘Showing Your True Colours’ campaign] but no-one came’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, 09/02/06). Although both groups expressed an interest in working cross-community, neither of the anti-racist groups in West Belfast interviewed were directly involved in cross-community work. This demonstrates once again the dominance of sectarian divisions over anti-racist agendas in West Belfast. 200 Despite the failure of these anti-racist groups to work cross-community or to produce anti-racist murals that could appeal to both Loyalist and Republican constituencies, the research did find one example of an anti-racist mural in West Belfast that does not refer to sectarian narratives of history and identity. The ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural (Figures 7.14, 7.15 and 7.16) was painted in 2004 by Filipino youths (with the help of local community activists) around the time of attacks on the homes of Filipino nurses living in West Belfast and working in the nearby Royal Victoria Hospital (Emerson 2005). The mural is from a wall just off Grosvenor Road (see Figure 7.13) which, along with Divis Street, is the main arterial route onto the Falls Road and ‘Republican’ West Belfast. It is located in a prominent position adjacent to the main Westlink Road into Belfast, and is thus clearly visible to many motorists travelling into, and out of, the city centre. This wall is also on the border between the Catholic/Nationalist residential community of Grosvenor Road and the urban centre of Belfast. Unlike the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural in Figure 7.6, this mural is not located on a popular mural wall, but is free-standing with no other political murals adjacent to it. Figure 7.13: Map showing location of I’m Not Your Stereotype mural close to Grosvenor Road, West Belfast (Source: http://maps.google.co.uk) 201 Figure 7.14: Left Panel ‘I'm Not Your Stereotype’ mural (Filipino), Grosvenor Road, Belfast (Source: Author) Figure 7.15: Centre Panel ‘I'm Not Your Stereotype’ mural, Grosvenor Road, Belfast (Source: Author) 202 Figure 7.16: Right Panel ‘I'm Not Your Stereotype’ mural (Irish), Grosvenor Road, Belfast (Source: Author) This mural’s iconographic story is remarkably concise and straightforward; based as it is around three pieces of text in bold, black, capital leaders which read ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ in Filipino (Figure 7.14), English (Figure 7.15) and Irish (Figure 7.16). The texts are separated by two sets of three stick figures. While previous murals discussed in this chapter were colourful, this mural uses just black and white paint to create a clearly legible representation that seems to speak to universalist conceptions of anti-racism. Universalism in anti-racist thought asserts the conviction that all people are equal and should be treated as such (Bonnett 2000). One advantage of this approach is that it avoids the reification of ‘race’ associated with anti-racism that relies on a relativist position (Gilroy 1998; Wievorka 1997). The fact that the representations of people used in this mural are neither gendered nor raced hints at the existence of a universal humanity beyond stereotypes (Bonnett 2000; Gilroy 1987). As well as avoiding racialised representations, sectarian symbols and narratives are not invoked in this mural. The mural is not just about accommodating new diversity in West Belfast; instead, people are implored not to judge others on the basis of stereotypical assumptions about an individual’s bodily appearance. 203 The central message of the ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural is anti-discriminatory. As such, it offers a glimmer of hope that an anti-racist discourse that transcends sectarian narratives is possible. However, it has not been interpreted as such by local commentators. One prominent writer on Northern Irish affairs remarked that the mural, far from challenging dominant political discourses, ‘is a West Belfast stereotype par excellence …. [t]hey want us all to be their stereotypes, branded by our postcodes’ (Emerson 2005: np). This reference to postcodes speaks to the segregation of religious space in Northern Ireland along sectarian lines. As Burton (1978) noted, where a person lives is an important cue in the process of ‘Telling’ their religious identity. In this quote, Emerson (2005) seems to be suggesting that the mural is instructing Filipinos to be Republican based on the fact that they live in a Catholic/Nationalist area. This rather crude reading fails to engage fully with either the mural’s message of anti-discrimination or who actually produced it. As noted, the mural was painted by Filipino youths living locally. This is significant as it suggests that the cultural practices by which sectarianism is (re)produced are being adopted – and in the process potentially transformed – by new groups in Northern Irish society. The fact that Filipino youths painted the mural also suggests that these new groups feel secure enough to draw attention to their presence in the area. The mural is located in a border area between the Catholic/Nationalist Grosvenor Road and the neutral space of Belfast city centre (see Figure 7.13). The very fact that the mural was not vandalised or ‘reclaimed’ by the local community suggests that its message is generally accepted and supported in the area (McCormick and Jarman 2005). Unlike the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural on Divis Street discussed earlier, the ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural avoids (re)producing sectarian narratives of space and identity. In fact, the crux of its anti-racist message (that judging people based on stereotypical assumptions based on their appearance is wrong) challenges sectarianism as well as racism. Rather than simply reflecting the political culture in which it is located (Lentin 2004), this mural (and the story of its production) appears to break out of dominant sectarian narratives and political identities to construct a broader anti-racist social vision based on inclusionary principles of tolerance and respect (Anthias and Lloyd 2002). The involvement of Filipino youths in the painting of the mural suggests 204 that, in this context, multiculturalism is both tempering sectarianism and providing an opportunity to move beyond it. Rather than being structured by sectarianism, the mural seems to graphically illustrate the potential for multicultural agendas to fundamentally challenge sectarianism and, in the process, imagine a future, post-sectarian Northern Ireland. 7.4. Posters and Pamphlets The following sections extend the analysis of visuals produced by anti-racist groups in West Belfast beyond murals to look at posters and pamphlets. There are two main reasons for doing this. First, this visual culture plays an important role in the (re)production of sectarian narratives of history, space and identity in Northern Ireland (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). Second, anti-racist campaigns often utilise posters and pamphlets, and the representations carried in these media have been the subject of previous academic analysis (Gilroy 1987; Murji 2006). Reflecting on the construction of sectarian boundaries in Northern Ireland, it is clear that where political posters and pamphlets are displayed and distributed constructs boundaries. For instance, Sinn Fein election posters and Union Jacks act as powerful demarcations of sectarian space and territoriality. Similarly, distributing flyers for a Republican Easter Rising Anniversary celebration in a public house constructs the space of both the bar and the street as Catholic/Nationalist. Anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast have not confined themselves to painting murals, they have also produced anti-racist posters and pamphlets. The following sections investigate the representations that these objects use and their power to produce particular visions of identity as well as social difference and its accommodation (Rose 2001). 7.4.1. WARN texts As well as organising the painting of the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural, the West Against Racism Network (WARN) produced a number of different anti-racist texts. The object in Figure 7.17 is a mock passport which uses the same iconography and is the same size and shape as an authentic passport of the Republic of Ireland. The final page 205 mimics the photo page of a real passport, and there are instructions to attach a photo and personal details. As well as standard information such as address or date of birth, space is made for including the bearer’s hopes, values and language (see Figure 7.18). Instead of blank pages for passport control stamps, eight of the passport’s twelve pages are taken up with dense text. The putative link between anti-racism and Irish Republicanism is a salient feature of the ‘passport’. For example, significant portions, like the word ‘pas’ on the cover, are written in both English and Irish; symbolically linking both the passport and the bearer to Irish Republicanism. Inside, the narrative locates racism in Loyalist communities and the history of their involvement in sectarian violence. You don’t need to be a politics professor to work out the connection between Loyalists burning out Catholics in North Belfast, the Short Strand and in Larne, on the one hand, and Loyalists driving out Africans, Moslems, Filipinos, Portuguese and Chinese in South Belfast, Ballymena, Antrim and Dungannon. Take out the words “Taig”, “Fenian”, “Papist” etc. from a sectarian diatribe, and replace them with “hordes of asylum seekers”, “spongers”, “muggers” or “yellow peril”, and you have a classic racist text like the one Loyalists put about in South Belfast (WARN 2005a: 7). The suggestion made in the above quote is that the connection between Loyalism and racialised violence (McVeigh and Rolston 2007) is self-evident. Loyalists are portrayed as targeting racialised minorities with the same derogatory terms, as well as physical violence, as was once directed towards Catholics. The ‘classic racist text’ referred to was a black and white leaflet produced and distributed anonymously in the Donegall Pass area of South Belfast in 2004 that allegedly described the Chinese as a ‘yellow peril’ and a ‘bigger threat than thirty years of Republican violence’ (Interview with Chinese Welfare Association, 30/09/05). The passport’s text goes on to argue that Republicans should identify with racialised minorities as victims of aggression. It stands to reason that our solidarity with people from black and minority ethnic communities should be automatic, because we all know what it is like to be on the receiving end of such bigotry, whether it is from individuals, from Loyalist mobs or from the state (WARN 2005a: 7). 206 This quote reiterates some of the points made earlier in the discussion of the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural. The similarity of Irish experiences of discrimination and those of racialised minorities in contemporary Northern Ireland is stressed. The putative similarity between the experience of sectarianism (‘bigotry’) and racism discussed in Chapter Six is also constructed in this quote. The anti-racist message produced in the passport’s text pivots around the association of anti-Irish discrimination, anti-Catholic sectarianism and racism. Once again, this narrative neglects to mention the racist practices that have been associated with some of the Irish themselves (Ignatiev 1995). Similarly, as noted in the previous chapter, an acknowledgment of the potential for racism in Catholic/Nationalist areas is absent from the text. The continual references to a Republican ‘We’ and a Loyalist ‘Them’ locates racism only in the latter group at the same time as it interpellates the passport holder within specific discourses of identity and belonging based on sectarian difference. Figure 7.17: Front cover WARN passport The passport was written by a member of the Pat Finucane Centre in Derry and produced as part of WARN’s initiative to promote West Belfast as an anti-racist 207 ‘Republic of Conscience’ in May 2005.82 As part of this campaign a mock security checkpoint was constructed on the Falls Road, and all passing cars and pedestrians were issued with the passport that was printed at a discounted rate by a local press (Interview with Anti-racism Network, 06/05/06). The event was launched by Gerry Adams MP, with local Sinn Fein politicians also in attendance, and all had their picture taken for the local press brandishing copies of the passport (Interview with Indian Community Centre, 18/10/05). The stamps on the passport’s back page (see Figure 7.18) suggest the support of a sizable number of community groups active in West Belfast. Surplus copies were later distributed at Anti-racism Network meetings and inserted into the welcome pack discussed later in this section. Figure 7.18: Photo page, WARN passport As technologies for the control of entry and exit from certain defined territories and spaces, passports are central to the production and maintenance of borders and processes of racialisation in modern states (Kemp 2004). The use of a passport to carry an anti- 82 The Pat Finucane Centre is a centre for human rights and social change which is based in Derry. It is named after a prominent Catholic solicitor who was murdered by Loyalists in Belfast in 1989 in what has been one of the most controversial killings of ‘the Troubles’. 208 racist message disrupts this association with such exclusionary practices and suggests that one is entering an anti-racist space. In Northern Ireland this could be interpreted as an attempt to redefine citizenship in non-sectarian terms. However, the ‘issuing’ of these passports also produced a border around the area in which they were distributed and to which the text refers; namely ‘Republican’ West Belfast. As these passports were only circulated in Republican areas they served to (re)produce sectarian boundaries and narratives of space and identity. As a consequence, in creating an anti-racist space this text (and the overall event) also maintained the production of space in sectarian terms. The ability of anti-racist representations to contribute to the (re)production of sectarian identities – and potentially divisions – has been noted throughout this chapter. This possibility is most graphically illustrated in a booklet entitled Comhar na Gcomharsan produced by WARN for inclusion in an information pack geared towards migrants coming to live in West Belfast. This seventy-two page booklet is made up of eighteen separate sections which deal with a range of topics including social security, leisure centres and useful emergency numbers ‘to help you settle into and live in West Belfast’ (WARN 2005b: 1). The tone of the text is far from neutral: in an introductory section on the history of the area, the British presence in Northern Ireland is referred to as ‘the occupation’. Elsewhere, in a section on religious facilities in the area, only Catholic churches are listed. The interpellation of new migrants into Catholic and Republican subject positions is demonstrated in the following advice concerning the police. The police force in the North of Ireland (the PSNI) is seen by most people here as an extension of the British state and has no support. You should avoid calling them into the area, unless it is a necessity, e.g. for insurance purposes. If the PSNI ask questions about your neighbours, you should not answer them and you should inform your local community centre or councillor at once. It is advisable not to go to a PSNI station alone (WARN, 2005b: 7). Advising racialised groups not to contact the police is a dangerous example of the subsuming of new identities within dominant Republican discourses and practices, in 209 this instance opposition to the PSNI.83 Although the booklet was supposed to help newcomers settle in the area, it serves to create a sectarianised subject; one who should, after reading the booklet, be able to behave in a ‘properly’ Republican way. The production of the Comhar na Gcomharsan text followed a successful grant application written by WARN to the Racial Equality Unit (REU) of the Office of the First Minister and Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM) on behalf of the Falls Community Council (FCC), a community group in West Belfast. The FCC were awarded £8,000 to produce the welcome pack, and they asked WARN to compile the text. Not long after the launch of the pack in early 2005, the reference to policing in the booklet was picked up in the Northern Irish media (Emerson 2005). When the content of the text was brought to the attention of the REU in March 2005, funding for the project was withdrawn (Interview with Director of Racial Equality Unit, 29/09/05). As the money had already been spent and the welcome packs printed, WARN were forced to meet the publication costs.84 It was originally intended that the welcome pack would be distributed free of charge from the offices of community groups as well as those of politicians and service providers in West Belfast. Following its negative publicity, the pack was largely withdrawn from circulation, although I did see some copies distributed at the launch of the WARN ‘pubs and clubs’ initiative (Falls Road, 28/03/06). Criticism of the pack was not confined to media and political spheres. One member of a prominent voluntary group on the Falls Road that works closely with the migrants described the welcome pack as ‘a nightmare’. This interviewee commented as follows: We weren’t party to that … it was poor, very very bad … It was supposed to be a welcome pack about what was available in the area, what community groups were available, what service provision, what shops there were, schools, churches. But it was very much a one sided document, sort of ‘don’t contact the PSNI’. There was a list of churches, but every church in it was a Catholic church, there wasn’t a Protestant 83 As noted in the previous chapter, the Republican position on policing in Northern Ireland has changed remarkably in the last year. While at the time of the publication of the welcome pack Sinn Fein were still refusing to endorse PSNI, in 2006 they reversed their decision and chose to support policing. This brought to an end to over eighty-five years of Republican opposition to policing in Northern Ireland. 84 They did this by arranging for Damien Dempsey, a Dublin born folk singer pictured beside the ‘Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism’ mural in the press clipping in Figure 7.8, to play a fund raiser in Belfast on their behalf (Interview with Anti-racist Network, 06/05/06). 210 church in it. It was very narrow focused, in terms of the Equality Commission they couldn’t stand for it and there was a lot of complaints about it. A lot of councillors and that saying that it was totally unacceptable. It should have been more balanced, the content of it (Interview with Springfield Charitable Association, 15/02/06). The Comhar na Gcomharsan text and its reception reiterates two key points about the relationship between multiculturalism and sectarianism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. First, this extreme example shows that sectarian division may be constructed within, and perpetuated by, anti-racist texts. If every new migrant in West Belfast followed the advice contained in this booklet they would be quickly reproducing Republican narratives of history and identity and contributing to the maintenance of sectarianism. Second, and more hopefully, it was found that the construction of sectarian discourses and subject positions in anti-racist texts was not uncritically accepted. The Springfield Charitable Association (SCA) is located on the Catholic/Nationalist side of the Springfield Road and, as such, would generally deliver services to people describing themselves as ‘Republican’. However, as the quote above demonstrates, the SCA were not involved in the booklet and did not support its message. For this interviewee, the text was unbalanced and its inclusion of details of only Catholic facilities sectarian. The fact that the text’s sectarian character was challenged by some in West Belfast suggests that, in this context, cultural diversity and anti-racism is forcing people to critically reflect on sectarianism; even when sectarian divisions are being (re)produced in texts aimed at new ethnically-identified minorities in the area. 7.4.2. ‘Loyalist or racist? You can’t be Both’ As well as producing the ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural, the Loyalist anti-racism campaign ‘Showing Your True Colours’ on the Shankill Road also distributed anti-racist pamphlets and posters. These texts all carried the message Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both and were initially circulated around Loyalist areas of Belfast in March 2005. The image in Figure 7.19 is taken from the front cover of this six-panelled glossy pamphlet and is somewhat clouded in ambiguity. The country of origin of the figure is unclear; perhaps she is South Asian, perhaps not. The tattoos on the body are equally ambiguous; they might be henna-inspired designs or the types of tattoos popular 211 amongst the white working-class in Loyalist areas of Belfast. It looks like a picture of a woman but the clothes, the sleeveless t-shirt and blue denims, seem to challenge assumptions about female dress. In this anti-racist pamphlet, the Union Jack t-shirt with ‘Made in Britain’ emblazoned across the front of the figure suggests that she could just as easily be a tough Loyalist woman saying no to her friends as a potential victim of racialised violence. This ambiguity extends to the gesture of the out-stretched right arm which could be interpreted as a defensive ‘hands off’ or as a conciliatory reaching out. Figure 7.19: Front panel, Loyalist or Racist? You can't be Both 212 It has been argued that, rather than challenging racism, the visual representation of the racialised body in anti-racist campaigns reproduces racism and racist modes of interpretation (Murji 2006). Representations of ‘race’ are generally negative, constructing difference as a ‘problem’ and reinforcing stereotypes (Gilroy 1998; Jackson 1994a). The place of ‘race’ in Figure 7.19 is quite uncertain. If the image is read as a victim of racist attacks (or even as a racialised Loyalist) the style, clothing and gesture disrupts dominant narratives of victimhood attached to the racialised ‘Other’ in Northern Ireland. Accordingly, this representation appears to challenge simplistic assumptions about ‘race’, sexuality and even gender. However, the viewer is also called on to see the person in the photograph as a strong Loyalist. This is done through the Union Jack t- shirt as well as the three phrases suspended above the image. ‘Ulster Says No’, ‘Ulster Will Fight’ and ‘Ulster Will Be Right’ are all popular Loyalist political slogans which emerged during the often violent Loyalist protests in 1986 against the Anglo-Irish Agreement. These protests led to increased paramilitary violence and the expulsion of many Catholic/Nationalists from Protestant/Unionist areas (Cochrane 2001). In this image, ‘Ulster Says No’ and ‘Ulster Will Be Right’ are written in red and blue respectively, colours very closely associated with Ulster Loyalism (Cairns 2000). Despite using such an ambiguous image on its front cover, this pamphlet constructs anti- racism as an extension of a Loyalist political position and locates it within dominant Loyalist discourses and narratives. This appeal to Loyalist narratives is continued on the inside pages of the pamphlet which are taken up with a series of photographic images accompanied by pieces of text. In the World War II recruitment poster reproduced in Figure 7.20, representations of what appears to be a Sikh man and a Black man are pictured alongside, but anterior to, five white men. All the characters are carrying arms, the intimation being that they are defending the Union Jack fluttering behind them. The positionality of the subjects in this image is important. Racialised bodies may be fighting with white men but they are located at the back, which suggests some degree of inferiority. The uniforms also support this reading. Some of the white men wear the garb of the air force and the navy, but the racialised bodies depicted are members of the less prestigious regular army. This presentation of racialised ‘Others’ as ‘loyal subjects’ was also noted in Barthes’(1972) 213 analysis of a French ‘negro’ soldier saluting the tricolour on the front cover of a copy of Paris Match. Figure 7.20: British army recruitment poster, Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both The image from the World War II recruitment poster in Figure 7.20 is juxtaposed with the promulgation that As loyal British subjects we are part of one of the greatest stories of world history. The world owes much to the British Empire – freedom of political choice, thought and religious belief. International trade and many global institutions are the positive result of British influence in the world. The great movements of Africa and Asia towards self-government and independence were nurtured in the schools of Empire. What was a right for us was offered as a right for all (Loyalist Commission 2005: np). 214 This quote suggests that without colonialism and, specifically, the British Empire nation- states in Africa and Asia would not have developed self-government. This is a remarkably contradictory discourse. Racist ideologies and contemporary racism are very much a product of colonial processes and the subjugation of ‘inferior’ peoples by white settlers (Goldberg 1993). Twentieth century independence movements were a product of colonial racism (Balibar 1991) not, as suggested in the above quote, of religious and political ideas handed down by imperialists. Furthermore, independence was rarely happily bequeathed by the British Empire, it was a product of both post-World War II social and political changes and armed independence movements in many colonies. The representations in this pamphlet fit Homi Bhabha’s (1994) definition of a ‘colonial text’ in that they disavow difference and the historical experience of colonialism. The pamphlet’s colonial discourse depicts racialised minorities as ‘loyal subjects’ and calls on Loyalists to protect these groups as they did previously during the time of empire. The argument that the legacy of empire furnishes Loyalists with an anti-racist history that can be used in the present day is deeply problematic. It constructs racialised groups as inherently inferior and in need of protection and denies the agency of these groups. Consequently, the work of anti-racism becomes the acceptance, or possibly even the rejection, of these groups rather than the imagining of a future, non-racist society (Anthias and Lloyd 2002). As well as the pamphlet, three glossy A4 size posters were produced as part of the Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both initiative. The images and text in these three posters is the same as that which adorns the back page of the pamphlet (see Figure 7.21). On one poster a picture of a Black man in military garb with what appears to be a sword resting on his shoulder is juxtaposed with the same ‘Declare War on Racism’ imploration that appeared in the Loyalist anti-racist mural. This combative language reflects the ‘conflict culture’ which exists within many Loyalist communities and which is bound up with a deep-seated ‘siege mentality’ in the wider history of Ulster Loyalism (Shirlow and McGovern 1996). During ‘the Troubles’ the notion that Loyalists were under siege from Republicans was commonplace and, more recently, dissident Loyalists have painted murals of the Siege of Derry to signal their dissatisfaction at power-sharing arrangements with Catholic/Nationalists (Gallaher and Shirlow 2006: 162). Allied to the 215 history of sectarian violence and conflict, this sense of being besieged seems to have produced a culture within which social issues are constructed in terms of ‘fights’ and ‘wars’ which must be ‘won’. As well as the contradictions inherent in constructing anti- racism as a battle, the use of such an unambiguously raced body in this poster (and in the other two posters discussed below) is also problematic. This image of a Black man in military uniform could be accused of reifying socially constructed notions of ‘racial’ difference (Gilroy 2001) and actually contributing to processes of racialisation in Northern Irish society (Chan 2006; Miles 1992; Penrose and Jackson 1993). Although the image used in this anti-racist poster might appeal to people who identify with Loyalist culture, the assumptions that inform these images may be counterproductive in advancing the vision of a socially cohesive future. Figure 7.21: Triptych of posters, Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both The photograph in the second poster is of a Black Glasgow Rangers footballer, Marvin Andrews, with a Union Jack in the background. The text in red beside the picture reads 216 ‘By Tackling Racism Head On’. The use of a football metaphor in this poster mirrors anti-racist campaigns in England, most notably the Football Association’s ‘Kick It Out’ campaign and, more recently, the ‘Show Racism the Red Card’ campaign.85 While football matches are often the scene of racist behaviours in the rest of the UK, in Northern Ireland sport, especially football, has been an arena in which sectarian division and violence has been played out (Sugden and Bairner 1993). Although based in Scotland, Glasgow Rangers are a very popular side in Loyalist areas of Northern Ireland for a number of historical and cultural reasons (Bairner and Shirlow 1998). In this poster, the presence of Black players on the Rangers team is used to illustrate the contribution of racialised ‘Others’ to Loyalist culture and, in the process, help the viewer identify with the campaign’s anti-racist message. The choice of Marvin Andrews also seems noteworthy. While there have been a number of more prominent Black Rangers players, Andrews is well known as a devout born-again Christian.86 In selecting Andrews for this poster, then, it seems that an attempt is being made to highlight the presence of racialised difference in both Protestantism and Glasgow Rangers. The final poster involves a photograph of what appear to be members of African branches of the Orange Order marching in an Orange parade beside the slogan ‘Ensuring Civil and Religious Liberties for All’. The Orange Order plays an integral role in the everyday lives of many Loyalists (Cairns 2000). Orange Parades, which occur all year round but are particularly concentrated around July 12th, are key symbolic and material processes in the (re)production of Loyalist political identities in space (Bryan 2000; Jarman 1997). In the photograph at the foot of Figure 7.21, there appears to be a white Northern Irish Orangeman in the left foreground with three Black members of the Order behind him. Although the Orange Lodge is associated primarily with Northern Ireland, it has branches around the world; including in Togo and Ghana in West Africa, and members of these West African Lodges have regularly attended the 12th July marches in 85 The ‘Kick It Out’ campaign was established in 1993 to challenge racism and work for positive change in English football. The campaign works through all levels of football, from professional to amateur, to raise debate and tackle racism in the game. Recently the campaign has been updated and rebranded as ‘Show Racism the Red Card’. This campaign has been active at football grounds and elsewhere in England, Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. 86 Andrews once famously refused medical treatment for a horrific leg injury saying that God would heal him. Relying solely on prayer he recovered in time to take part in the 2006 World Cup, representing Trinidad and Tobago. 217 Belfast in recent years. In recent decades, Orange Order parades have become increasingly contentious (Bryan 2000). Discourses of tradition and civil liberty are often employed to justify parade routes which pass by or through Catholic/Nationalist areas (Cairns 2001). This poster’s anti-racist message pivots on two related claims. First, as Loyalists and Orangemen are upholders of civil and religious liberty they should defend racialised minorities. Second, as there is racialised difference in the Orange Order, for Loyalists to engage in racist behaviour is to discriminate against members of their most sanctified Loyal institution. The posters and pamphlets discussed in this section were published and distributed by the Loyalist Commission (see base of Figure 7.21). The pamphlets were distributed mainly to community centres and voluntary groups and the posters given out to pubs and clubs in Loyalist areas. One interviewee commented that the poster showing African branches of the Orange Order was ‘by far the most popular’ in the bars ‘because it’s funny’ (Interview with Shankill Alternatives, Belfast, 09/02/06). The idea that Black men were members of the Orange Order challenged the assumptions of drinkers, many of whom were members of the Orange Order themselves and would presumably see the institution as exclusively white. Although most of the posters were apparently distributed, stockpiles of pamphlets in Shankill Alternatives’ offices almost a year after the campaign launch suggested that many of the pamphlets remained undistributed. One possible reason for this is the fact that many outside the Loyalist constituency found the images and associations used in the pamphlets and posters offensive and unhelpful. Some interviewees representing ethnically-identified minorities in Belfast were deeply dissatisfied with the confrontational tone of the pamphlet and refused to distribute it (Interview with Chinese Welfare Association, 30/09/05). This suggests that, while the campaign may have had some level of popular support in Loyalist areas, it also had a divisive effect as it alienated ethnically-identified minorities living in the same Loyalist areas. The statement ‘Loyalist or Racist? You can’t Both’, which is the overarching message of both the pamphlets and the posters, is a powerful one. Constructing Loyalism and racism as mutually exclusive ideologies provides a clear message for everyone exposed to it. In 218 looking more closely at the symbols and narratives used in these texts, this section has highlighted both the productive ambiguity of some representations and the problematic contradictions embedded within others. At various points these texts make reference to Loyalist opposition to the Anglo-Irish Agreement, Loyalist involvement in colonialism and the presence of racialised difference in the Glasgow Rangers Football team and the Orange Order. Although the aim of these references is to persuade Loyalists to be anti- racist, they all rely on particular narratives of history, identity and belonging grounded in Ulster Loyalism and exclude those not included in this tradition. As such, these anti- racist representations reflect the particular (sectarian) political culture and context within which they were produced and circulated (Lentin 2004). It is also important to note that as well as being visual representations, the Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both posters and pamphlets are also material objects whose presence marks a space as belonging to a specific (Loyalist) ‘side’ of the sectarian divide. While these posters and pamphlets were produced to promote an anti-racist message, in this context their message is structured by – and even tends to both symbolically and materially (re)produce – narratives of identity and belonging grounded in sectarianism. 7.5. Conclusion In this chapter, the final analysis chapter of the dissertation, the attention turned to another sub-field of multiculturalism (anti-racism), looking, specifically, at the visual culture produced by anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast. Visual culture such as political murals, posters and pamphlets contribute to the construction and (re)production of sectarian identities in Northern Ireland. This chapter examined how new agendas of social relations (anti-racism) are being reflected in, and are potentially reshaping, these important traditions of cultural and political expression. The empirical focus of this chapter was on anti-racist representations produced by grassroots anti-racist groups in West Belfast. As the brief discussion on West Belfast highlighted, this is an area deeply divided along sectarian lines. Residential segregation in West Belfast is particularly stark, and visual culture are often used to reflect the different (sectarian) identities on both sides of the ‘peaceline’. Yet, like the rest of 219 Northern Ireland, West Belfast is changing. The number of ethnically-identified minorities coming to live in the area has increased, as has the number of racist attacks reported to the police. Grassroots anti-racist groups emerged in West Belfast in this context. This chapter looked specifically at anti-racist visual culture produced by two such groups: the West Against Racism Network (WARN) on the predominantly Republican Falls Road and Shankill Alternatives on the Loyalist Shankill Road. The analysis of the anti-racist representations produced by both WARN and Shankill Alternatives reiterated the key findings of this thesis; namely the mutual imbrication of sectarianism and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland and the importance of context in dictating how they effect one another. As this chapter showed, at many junctures anti- racism is structured by sectarianism. The anti-racist murals produced by both WARN and Shankill Alternatives relied heavily on narratives and symbols drawn from specific (sectarian) traditions and influences. The most graphic illustration of the (re)production of sectarianism in anti-racist visual culture was found in Comhar na Gcormharsan, a booklet produced by WARN for migrant workers coming to West Belfast. This text, with its advice to new migrants to avoid contacting the police, served to interpellate ethnically-identified minorities into Catholic and Republican subject positions. Similarly, the colonial discourses contained in the Loyalist or Racist? You can’t be Both initiative's posters and pamphlets only made reference to Loyalist narratives and ignored the agency of racialised minorities. The impact of sectarianism on anti-racist agendas was even felt when anti-racist messages were produced in less traditional mediums. Although the WARN passport attempted to create an anti-racist space in West Belfast, as it was only distributed in Republican areas and relied on Republican narratives, the space it produced was simultaneously defined in terms of sectarianism. While the use of the visual culture of sectarian division to produce an anti-racist message may be considered problematic, it also provides opportunities to advance anti- racist arguments in media most likely to reach a captive audience in areas such as West Belfast. Despite the absence of cross-community anti-racism initiatives, this chapter’s analysis of anti-racist visual culture in West Belfast did uncover moments where the presence of cultural diversity seemed to temper dominant sectarian ways of being and 220 doing. The mural to Fredrick Douglass on the Falls Road included an acknowledgment of the role of some Irish in racist practices that has been identified as crucial to building wider anti-racist alliances on the island. Also, the sectarian messages contained in anti- racist campaigns were not always unquestioningly accepted. The analysis of the production of the ‘Declare War on Racism’ mural showed that its message had been contested and that an earlier version had a much greater focus on anti-racism than on Loyalist narratives. Similarly, the sectarian discourses contained in the Comhar na Gcormharsan booklet were rejected by an interviewee from a community group directly involved with new migrants in the Falls Road area. Elsewhere, the direct involvement of Filipino youths in painting the ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural suggests that the cultural practices that have helped maintain sectarian division may be in the process of being adopted, and potentially transformed, by new migrant groups. Moving beyond sectarianism requires more than a thin veneer of multiculturalism; it demands that Northern Ireland embraces a genuinely post-sectarian and multicultural framework. The ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural’s message and the story of its production is a powerful symbol of hope that multiculturalism can contribute to Northern Ireland moving towards a socially cohesive future. 221 Chapter Eight Conclusion 222 8.1 Introduction This dissertation has examined multiculturalism in the specific context of a society divided along sectarian lines. My work has demonstrated that sectarianism and multiculturalism are mutually constituted in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. In many contexts the sectarianism that is embedded in Northern Irish society, space and institutional structures makes it very difficult to pursue a multicultural vision of society. For example, Chapter Seven showed that visual culture produced by anti-racist groups in West Belfast (re)produces sectarian narratives and identities. Although it was overwhelmingly the case that sectarianism undermined emerging multicultural agendas, I also located some beacons of hope – contexts in which multiculturalism seemed to temper sectarianism. For example, Chapter Six suggested that practices which seek to recognise cultural diversity – such as multicultural festivals – might have the potential to introduce wider debates on identity and difference in Northern Ireland beyond the ‘two traditions’. This finding suggests the possibility that the presence of cultural diversity and the emergence of multicultural agendas might be helping Northern Ireland move forward into a future that is not just post-conflict but post-sectarian too. This concluding chapter begins with a review of the dissertation in order to show how the over-arching argument was built up and developed in each of the preceding chapters. The succeeding section reflects, in light of the conclusions drawn from the empirical chapters, on some of the theoretical and empirical implications of these conclusions. This reflection considers the contribution that the research makes to the literature on sectarianism in Northern Ireland and multiculturalism in complexly diverse societies. The chapter ends with a brief discussion on the implications of the findings for contemporary Northern Irish society and its attempts to realise a post-conflict, post- sectarian vision of itself. 8.2 A Review of the Dissertation Chapter One very briefly introduced and outlined the structure of this dissertation. In seeking to explore and understand multicultural agendas in a society divided along sectarian lines, I had to have a theoretical grasp of both multiculturalism and 223 sectarianism. To fully account for these processes in contemporary Northern Ireland, it was also important to consider relevant empirical research on emerging multicultural agendas in this context. Chapter Two’s tri-partite structure addressed these distinct but overlapping literatures and materials. The first section sought to conceptualise sectarianism in this research. Recent work from within the framework of geographies of religion was briefly reviewed, and was shown to be inadequate for understanding the complexly embedded nature of sectarianism in Northern Ireland. As the ensuing discussion suggested, sectarianism in Northern Ireland involves complex sets of discourses and social practices through which specific constructions of space and social identity based on sectarian difference are (re)produced. In the next section, I reviewed a range of literatures relevant to understanding multiculturalism in contemporary societies. I argued that multiculturalism can be understood as a wide range of strategies for fixing the meaning of cultural diversity in society (Hall 2000). I identified four separate approaches to understanding multiculturalism (demographic multiculturalism, the politics of recognition, anti-racism, and multicultural policy and its institutional structures), and showed how each was conceptualised and understood in relation to my research agenda. In the final section, I accounted for literature on multiculturalism and anti-racism in contemporary Northern Ireland. This discussion suggested the absence of, and need for, extensive, empirical research on the intersection of sectarianism and emerging multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. I had several methodological and procedural considerations to assess in order to successfully conduct research that would illuminate the relationship between emerging multicultural agendas and sectarianism in post-Agreement Northern Ireland. In Chapter Three, I explored these considerations, thinking through both the methodological and practical rationale behind my research choices. Looking back, I began this chapter by outlining the broad commitment to discourse analysis which I adopted in this research. I discussed the utility of discourse analysis for looking at talk and text (including visual materials), and argued in favour of extending this method to include an engagement with social practice. As a consequence, my qualitative research design combined observation with interviewing, visual methods, and analysis of policy and institutional structures. I argued that the use of such a broad range of qualitative methods helped strengthen the 224 validity of research findings by allowing for the triangulation of data gleaned from different sources. In terms of practicalities, Chapter Three clearly laid out the criteria by which research sites and units of analysis were selected. The general empirical focus on Belfast was justified in terms of both my own location and that of the research participants. I also provided a detailed account of the fieldwork process; focusing, in particular, on interviewing as this was the main method employed. Considering the practice of conducting qualitative interviews led me to reflect on, amongst other things, the effect of my identity as a Southern Irish Catholic on interviewee responses. Here I argued that interviewer-interviewee similarity is not essential for successful interviewing (Rose 1997) and that my own identity did not unduly bias the research. Later in the chapter, I reflected on the methodological tensions that arose from the uncertain political situation during the fieldwork period. Rather than present an account of an ideal, fully devolved context, the research presented a snapshot of Northern Irish institutional structures and practices at a particular historical moment. Although the possibility of using research techniques from non-representational approaches was also considered, this chapter concluded that the methods used and approaches taken were well-suited to addressing my research goals and objectives. Chapter Four provided background material on the history and politics of sectarianism and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland necessary to fully understand the later analytical chapters. The brief overview of the history of Northern Ireland showed how sectarianism has been deeply embedded in Northern Irish politics and society since the Ulster Plantations of the seventeenth century. The Northern Ireland state was itself a product of sectarian division, and it was this social stratification that, eventually, precipitated ‘the Troubles’. In this chapter, I argued that attempts to manage sectarian relations and promote peace in Northern Ireland have generally prioritised the recognition and accommodation of sectarian identities. It is hardly surprising, then, that the Agreement has, in some contexts, contributed to a reiteration of sectarian politics. Although sectarian division continues to structure the everyday lives of many in Northern Ireland, significant changes have taken place since the Agreement. The 225 cessation of armed conflict has been accompanied by an economic upturn and broader social and political change. One significant change identified has been the increased presence of cultural diversity as Northern Ireland, for the first time in recorded history, is experiencing net in-migration from a variety of source countries. In considering the changing histories and geographies of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland, I argued that multicultural agendas have emerged against a backdrop of increased migration and diversity (and concomitant racisms), and alongside attempts to present Northern Ireland as a ‘normal’ society that is trying to move beyond sectarianism. The substantive chapters of the dissertation presented empirical material to demonstrate the mutual constitution of sectarianism and multiculturalism in Northern Ireland and the effect of context in determining the nature of this relationship. I focused in Chapter Five on the emergence of multicultural policy initiatives within post-Agreement governing institutions, examining institutional structures, policy, and interviews with civil servants and policy makers. I sought to show how a concern for ‘race’ and identities beyond the ‘two traditions’ has begun to animate post-Agreement public policy. It was shown that there has been an active effort to shift the status of sectarian (community) and multicultural (good) relations so both are seen as equivalent. Increasingly, the presence of cultural diversity in society is being held up by politicians and policy makers as emblematic of, and integral to, a ‘normal’ Northern Ireland. Although multicultural agendas have emerged in Northern Irish policy, this chapter demonstrated that sectarianism embedded in institutional structures and practices has a negative impact on these progressive, pluralist agendas. Analysing the structures of institutions involved in the governing of multicultural issues, I found a very complex, unwieldy and uncertain situation. The fragmented state structure and the separation of powers between devolved and non-devolved administrations clearly undermined multicultural policy agendas. I argued that this institutional arrangement is not a product of bad design or poor management, but arises directly from the privileging of sectarian identities in the Agreement. The example of the reallocation of ‘no religion’ responses to the 2001 Northern Irish census into sectarian categories illustrated clearly the resilience 226 of sectarian constructions of identity in the institutional practices of the new, ‘normal’ Northern Ireland. In this context the pluralist, multicultural focus of much post- Agreement social policy must negotiate – and is often stymied by – manifestations of sectarianism within the political institutions and their practices. Chapter Six again demonstrated the persistence of an older, sectarian inheritance in Northern Ireland’s emergent multicultural imaginary. In this chapter, I explored two specific dimensions of a multicultural society: responses to racism and initiatives which raise awareness of cultural diversity. I argued that while a hate crime poster produced by the PSNI presented racism and sectarianism as equivalent in a ‘normal’ Northern Ireland, sectarianism seriously undermines police responses to racialised violence. The police remain preoccupied with sectarianism, and ethnically-identified minorities feel that their issues are often ignored and marginalised. Furthermore, the historical sectarianisation of policing in Northern Ireland not only makes it difficult for ethnically- identified minorities to speak of their rights on their own terms but even structures the reporting of racist incidents in some areas. Similarly, the politics of recognition was found to sit awkwardly with embedded sectarianism. The Samhain/Diwali festival in North Belfast demonstrated that celebrations of cultural diversity may be structured by sectarian territoriality. While sectarianism structures multicultural initiatives in many contexts, the experience of a white Northern Irish woman invited into a Protestant school to talk about the Chinese community suggested that, in some instances, multicultural agendas are being used to avoid addressing the legacy of the sectarian division that is embedded in Northern Irish society. More hopefully, Chapter Six also suggested that multicultural agendas are capable of changing how sectarianism is approached and understood. Although the introduction of hate crime legislation in 2004 was a direct response to ‘race’-based attacks, this has led to the police defining and recording sectarian incidents for the first time. I argued that this change in the policing of sectarian incidents has altered the way sectarianism is performed and, consequently, (re)produced. Drawing on interviews with organisers of celebrations of multicultural diversity, I proposed that such initiatives could challenge sectarian conceptualisations of identity and space in Northern Ireland. Sectarianism still 227 complicates attempts to recognise cultural diversity, but these emergent practices offer an important opportunity to disrupt the popular perception that Northern Ireland is composed of just ‘two traditions’ and sectarianism is a natural, ahistorical way of being. Visual culture, such as murals, posters and pamphlets, play an important role in the (re)production of sectarian identities in Northern Ireland (Jarman 1997). Chapter Seven explored how new anti-racist agendas in West Belfast are being articulated in these notable expressions of political and cultural identity. The analysis of visual culture produced by grassroots anti-racist groups on both sides of the Shankill/Falls peaceline illustrated, quite literally, the extent to which anti-racist visions in West Belfast are structured by sectarianism. These anti-racist representations often used sectarian narratives and symbols and (re)produced constructions of identity and belonging based on sectarian difference. The sectarian identifications contained in these texts also served to incorporate new migrants entering West Belfast into dominant, sectarian subject positions. Although sectarian considerations had a significant impact on these anti-racist agendas, these sectarian narratives were not always uncritically accepted, as the response to the Comhar na Gcormhasan welcome pack demonstrated. The very existence of these anti-racist campaigns was held up as illustrative of the social changes taking place in both West Belfast and Northern Ireland more generally. Furthermore, the involvement of Filipino youths in the painting of the ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural revealed that the cultural practices that have maintained and (re)produced sectarian identities and boundaries may be in the process of being radically reshaped by new migrant groups. This example suggests that, in some contexts, multicultural agendas have the potential not only to temper sectarianism and its expression, but could contribute to the realisation of a multicultural, post-sectarian Northern Ireland. 228 8.3 Concluding Reflections on Sectarianism, Multiculturalism and their Outworking in Northern Ireland This dissertation has traced a journey through the operationalisation of a multicultural imaginary in a society historically divided along sectarian lines. My research has made it abundantly clear that multiculturalism and sectarianism do not exist separately in the society in which they are manifest. Instead, the emergence of multicultural agendas and strategies in the context of contemporary Northern Ireland shows that multiculturalism and sectarianism are mutually constituted in complex ways. This finding has real implications for the success or failure of multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland. The opportunities for turning multicultural visions of a post-conflict Northern Ireland into social reality are going to remain slim as long as sectarianism continues to play such a dominant role in structuring social relations and governing institutions. Later in this section I will consider briefly the potential for realising such a post-conflict vision of Northern Irish society, but first I would like to reflect on some broader conclusions about both sectarianism in Northern Ireland and multiculturalism in complexly diverse societies that can be drawn from my dissertation. Sectarianism in Northern Ireland My research demonstrates that the fear that the Agreement could precipitate a situation in which the ‘two traditions’ come to dominate all other groups in Northern Irish society (Little 2003; Palshaugen 2005) has, to a certain extent, already been realised. I argue that the reason for this is the continued reproduction of sectarianism in Northern Irish society and space. My work shows that sectarianism remains in post-Agreement Northern Ireland, and, what is more, is being (re)produced and sustained by the very institutions charged with moving society beyond sectarianism. As was illustrated most clearly in Chapter Seven, even new multicultural agendas are being used to (re)produce sectarian narratives and identities. This finding supports Cairns’ (2000: 438) contention that as long as the everyday processes and practices that symbolically and materially reproduce sectarianism are in operation ‘the basic problem will remain untouched irrespective of political settlement’. 229 There was also noted a tendency to treat sectarianism and racism as equivalent processes in recent academic analyses of social relations in Northern Ireland (for example, McVeigh and Rolston 2007). In this dissertation, I argued both that sectarianism and racism are not identical, and that it is important to understand why and how sectarianism and racism are collapsed into one another in the discourses of post-Agreement Northern Ireland. This latter process should, I suggested in Chapters Five and Six, be understood as a facet of Northern Ireland’s attempts to depict itself as a ‘normal’ society that it moving beyond sectarianism (Bairner 2006). In this context, sectarianism and racism are being constructed as two equivalent processes that co-exist in – and to a certain extent actively define – a multicultural Northern Ireland. However, my work shows that in spite of these visions of ‘normality’ social relations in Northern Ireland remain structured by embedded and dominant sectarian division (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). The important question then becomes how can sectarianism in Northern Ireland be most productively understood and challenged. In this dissertation, I conceptualised sectarianism not as a static description of relations between Catholic/Nationalists and Protestant/Unionists, but as those sets of interactive discourses, narratives and embodied practices which (re)produce ways of seeing the world based on sectarian difference (Cairns 2000; Shirlow 2003). Challenging sectarianism, then, becomes a matter of changing how it is performed and (re)produced in everyday life. At various junctures my research provides empirical support for Catherine Nash’s (2005) contention that conceiving of Northern Ireland in terms of multiculturalism and cultural diversity has the potential to undermine sectarian conceptualisations of society and space. Chapter Six showed how the existence of cultural diversity and ‘race’-based hate crime in Northern Irish society has led to significant changes in the police approach towards sectarian incidents. Even more promisingly, the painting of a mural by Filipino youths (Chapter Seven) suggests that the cultural features of sectarian division could be adopted – and possibly transformed – by new ethnically-identified minorities. I would argue that conceptualising sectarianism as a fluid, contextual set of relations, discourses and practices allows research to identify both the points at which it is being embedded and strengthened and those at which it may be challenged and undermined. Such an approach would be very useful for any 230 future research that examines sectarianism in Northern Ireland and the efficacy of attempts to realise a ‘normal’, post-sectarian society. Multiculturalism in Complexly Diverse Societies Although arguably more extreme when overlaid with sectarianism, multiculturalism reaches practical and philosophical limits in all diverse societies (cf. Barry 2001; Little 2003; Schaap 2004; Vertovec 2007b). As Northern Ireland is an example of a complexly diverse society, my research can be seen to have implications for the understanding of multiculturalism in other contexts. In this section, I look at how my work provides empirically-based support for some of the discussions and criticisms of multiculturalism in diverse societies. This dissertation represents an important contribution to the scholarly literature on multiculturalism as it speaks directly to the concern that critiques of multiculturalism have tended to rely more on theoretical extrapolations than empirical research on multicultural agendas in practice (Wood and Gilbert 2005). I did not set out to deny the potentially positive benefits that can arise from the presence of cultural diversity in contemporary societies. Indeed, my work broadly supports Will Kymlicka’s (2001) contention that cultural diversity can facilitate pluralism, particularly in societies which possess well-defined ‘national minorities’. Practices such as multicultural festivals, which reflect the presence of what Kymlicka refers to as ‘immigrant multiculturalism’, could potentially play a significant role in promoting tolerance and respect in contested societies with strong national minorities, such as Northern Ireland. However, I would like to issue the caveat that the meaning and limits of immigrant multiculturalism are rarely set by ethnically-identified minorities themselves. As both Hage (2000) and Hesse (2000) argue, the terms by which immigrant groups are recognised within multicultural processes are generally dictated by the ‘host’ society. The empirical material presented in Chapter Six supports this contention. This work showed that ethnically-identified minorities are often forced to perform simplistic versions of their putative cultures and identities as they struggle for wider societal recognition (Hall 2000; Sivanandan 2000). Furthermore, I also argue, as Elizabeth Povenilli (1998) does, that immigrant multiculturalism is sometimes appropriated by dominant social groups and used to by-pass other more difficult and historically 231 intransigent issues of social difference. As my research on the Samhain/Diwali festival and the experiences of some of those involved in multicultural initiatives in Northern Ireland demonstrated, there is a danger that the recognition of cultural diversity can be used in an attempt to circumvent the historically embedded problem of sectarianism and its continuing legacy in structuring social relations. This finding has implications beyond the relatively narrow confines of Northern Ireland. While sectarianism itself may not be a problem in most other diverse societies, discrimination along other axes of difference such as gender, class and income certainly is. My work shows once again how the concerns of racialised minorities in contemporary Western nation-states (often around issues such as social justice and economic redistribution) may be ignored as these minorities are appropriated by dominant social groups in the service of the nation’s multicultural imagination of itself (Abbas 2005; Craig 2007; Fraser 1998; Hage 2000). My research also highlighted the importance of looking at the ‘institutional implications’ of multicultural policy in diverse societies (Uitermark, Rossi and Van Houtum 2005: 622). The analysis in Chapter Five of the emergence of multicultural agendas in the public policy of post-Agreement Northern Ireland supported the contention that the political structures and institutional frameworks that multicultural policy is produced and enacted within can be just as significant as the content of policy itself (Anthias and Yuval-Davis 1992; Ben-Tovim, Gabriel, Law and Stredder 1992). In my work, the negative impact that the complex, fragmented and unwieldy institutional structures of post-Agreement Northern Ireland had on the goals and ambitions of multicultural agendas expressed in public policy was starkly revealed. This suggests that future research on multiculturalism in other contexts should attend to political and institutional structures as well as policy positions. The extent to which initiatives aimed at addressing the problem of racism can actually contribute to processes of racialisation in society was another theme that emerged at a number of junctures in my analysis (Gilroy 2001). The representations used in both the PSNI hate crime awareness campaign (Chapter Six) and in some of the anti-racist campaigns in West Belfast (Chapter Seven) reproduced stereotypical images of ‘racial’ difference. Although the goal of these campaigns was anti-racist, they were primarily 232 concerned with the recognition and protection of ‘racial’ difference, and, as such, could be accused of aiding the racialisation of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland (Gilroy 1987; Murji 2006). The analysis of these representations visibly illustrated some of the problems inherent in relativist conceptions of anti-racism that have previously been identified in the academic literature (Bonnett 2000; Wievorka 1997). As well as reifying the social construction ‘race’, such an approach to anti-racist action fails to challenge other vectors of discrimination and leaves little space for a wider reaching anti-racist project (Detant 2005; Lentin 2004). To avoid these problems and build a stronger movement, anti-racism has to happen alongside and in tandem with other axes of difference besides ‘race’. Making the case for an all-encompassing, emancipatory anti-racism, Karim Murji (2006: 279) proposes that anti-racism requires a more developed and refined tactics of engagement in which racism could be considered through a wider lens or perspective than race itself, and its articulation with other social divisions, such as gender and age is brought out. While my research shows that in the Northern Ireland context the main vector of difference anti-racism needs to include is sectarianism, in other contexts it could be caste, gender, sexuality and so on that is most prominent. In the discussion of the ‘I’m Not Your Stereotype’ mural in Chapter Seven, I noted in passing the potential power of anti-discrimination as a social and political message. I would argue that anti-racist campaigns that can successfully marshal a wider discourse of anti-discrimination have greater potential to cut across and unite different vectors of difference than those that focus narrowly on the social construction ‘race’. Although Alana Lentin (2004) has shown that anti-racist campaigns reflect the political culture of the nation-state in which they are located, my work suggests that, in the Northern Ireland context at least, anti- racism may also possess the potential to break out of – and maybe even move beyond – dominant narratives and political identities. Perhaps then a broader anti-racist political project that would allow for the definition and creation of alternative social visions for complex, diverse societies could eventually be realised (Anthias and Lloyd 2002; Lloyd 1998; 2002). 233 Realising a Multicultural, Post-Sectarian Northern Ireland I would like to conclude my research by briefly considering the possible implications of these findings for contemporary Northern Ireland. This dissertation has not ‘proved’ that multiculturalism and diversification can eventually precipitate the movement of Northern Ireland beyond sectarianism. What it has done is highlighted both the need for and limits of alternative visions of what the post-conflict society could and should look like. There is a clear need for such a debate in Northern Ireland as it continues the long and often painful process of leaving behind the violence of ‘the Troubles’ and embracing democratic processes and principles. Ten years on the Agreement looks less like an end point and more like a crucial first phase in the building of a new, peaceful Northern Ireland. This political settlement brought the conflict to a negotiated conclusion and created a space in which new visions of Northern Ireland could be produced and, potentially, enacted. In many respects the explicit recognition of Nationalists and Unionists in the Agreement was a vital prerequisite for peace and devolved power-sharing. But now, as my work shows, Northern Ireland needs something more than the recursive cycle produced by the institutionalisation of sectarian mindsets. Although the reestablishment of political devolution within the context of its changed constitutional relationship with the rest of the United Kingdom could prove crucial in sustaining the political progress made, the institutional structures established for governing post-Agreement Northern Ireland continue to see the world through a sectarian-tinted lens. The difficulty this places on creating and sustaining alternative visions of social relations in Northern Ireland has been only too clearly revealed in my work. As long as sectarianism continues to be (re)produced unchallenged in Northern Irish society and space, the prognosis for genuinely moving beyond sectarianism will remain pessimistic. Of course, it is possible that sectarianism in Northern Ireland might just disappear over time without the need for social and political intervention. Perhaps the benefits of peace will ‘trickle-down’ through every stratum of Northern Irish society and those discourses and practices which (re)produce sectarianism will simply wither away. Maybe the housing boom and the plethora of new developments which are sprouting up 234 in ‘neutral’ areas, such as the Titanic Quarter on Belfast’s docks, will eventually force an end to residential segregation along sectarian lines. With an end to segregation in housing, maybe then sectarianism will finally dissipate and become an archaic way of being. And yet there have been precious few signs that sectarianism has been fatally weakened since the peace process. Indeed, many commentators have suggested that, in some contexts, the exact opposite has occurred (Shirlow and Murtagh 2006). Against this backdrop, I would argue that if Northern Ireland wants to get rid of sectarianism more quickly and explicitly then there will have to be much more proactive work in this regard across every tier of government and society. There is also an identifiable need for further research on multicultural agendas in Northern Ireland, particularly on the views and experiences of ethnically-identified minorities. As I noted in the discussion on demographic multiculturalism in Northern Ireland in Chapter Two, there has been a paucity of research on the changing histories and geographies of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland. During the course of this research I spoke to representatives from various ethnically-identified organisations and groups in Belfast. Although this allowed me to engage at different junctures in the dissertation with the experiences and perspectives of ethnically- identified minorities, this was not the over-riding objective of my work. Given my research aims and goals, the nature of my engagement with ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland was always going to be partial and limited to the voices and opinions of prominent representatives. The absence of an in-depth understanding of the everyday experiences of ethnically-identified minorities in Northern Ireland is an important issue that should be addressed in future research. Such work needs to look beyond public representatives to explore the views of ‘ordinary’ migrants. It is also important that such future research explores the new migrant communities that have developed in rural and semi-rural parts of Northern Ireland (Shuttleworth 2007) as well as the more established communities in Belfast. In conclusion, I would argue that whether or not a multicultural vision of society could, or even should, be realised in Northern Ireland is still open for debate and discussion. What is vital, as my research clearly shows, is that the privileging of sectarian identities 235 is brought to an end. I would argue that the only way that this can happen is through a more explicit commitment to pluralism and cultural diversity. Instead of privileging Catholic/Nationalist and Protestant/Unionist cultural expressions, cultural policy and institutional structures need to recognise the divergent histories and ‘cultures’ of all the people of Northern Ireland. Such a broad cultural policy could play a significant role in the re-imagining of society beyond the sectarian binaries of Orange and Green. At the same time, there is a need for an explicitly anti-sectarian agenda that names and addresses sectarianism in all its manifestations. Ultimately, I do not know if cultural diversity and the recognition of senses of identity and belonging beyond the tired tropes of sectarianism will be enough to move Northern Ireland beyond sectarianism. One thing is certain, though, Northern Irish society will always find it hard to move in any positive direction, multicultural or otherwise, as long as sectarianism is allowed to continue to colonise social relations. 236 Appendix I: Sample Letter of Introduction � � � � � � � � � � � � Dear Chinese Welfare Association, My name is Peter Geoghegan and I am a PhD research student in Geography in the University of Edinburgh. My research explores the effect of increasing cultural diversity on Northern Ireland as it tries to move beyond sectarianism. I am interested in the history of the Chinese community and their experiences of living in Northern Ireland. I would very much appreciate it if you could spare some of your time (approximately 45- 60 minutes) to talk to me about the history and aims of the Chinese Welfare Association and the types of activities that you are engaged in. I would also like to talk to you about problems experienced and whether official responses have been satisfactory. This project is for research and not commercial purposes. By consenting to being interviewed you are agreeing to allow me to use this interview in my research. Your consent is, however, completely voluntary, and at any time you are free to stop the interview and/or withdraw any information given (e.g. ‘off-the-record’ remarks will not be quoted or referred to). I can be contacted by phone (07770501423) or e-mail (p.geoghegan@sms.ed.ac.uk). Thanks for your time and I look forward to hearing from you, Yours faithfully, _______________________ PETER GEOGHEGAN � � ������� � �� ������������������� � � ����������� ������������ � ���������������� �������� �� �!"#� 237 Appendix II: Interview Index Community/Voluntary Organisation Date Animate An Munia Tober 27/11/05 02/05/06 Anti-racism Network 06/05/06 Belfast Islamic Centre 29/03/06 Chinese Welfare Association 30/09/05 Community Change 09/11/05 Embrace 14/10/05 Indian Community Centre 18/10/05 Latino-American Association Law Centre (NI) 12/02/06 25/10/05 Lisburn Prisoner Support Program 10/08/06 Multicultural Resource Centre 31/10/05 Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities 30/01/06 Republican Mural Artist 05/12/07 Shankill Alternatives (supplementary telephone correspondence; 12/03/08) 09/02/06 South Belfast Partnership Springfield Charitable Association 11/10/05 15/02/06 238 Government Organisation Alliance Party (Steve Farry MLA) Date 10/04/06 Belfast City Council 14/11/05 Community Relations Council 14/10/05 Community Relations Unit 09/01/06 Community Safety Unit 09/02/06 Department of Social Development 02/02/06 Equality Commission Northern Ireland 01/11/05 Equality Directorate 09/01/06 Northern Ireland Council for Integrated Education 13/02/06 Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission 14/03/06 Police Service of Northern Ireland (supplementary e-mail correspondence; 20/11- 23/11/07) 10/12/05 Racial Equality Unit, Deputy Head Racial Equality Unit, Director 12/09/05 29/09/05 239 Appendix III: Sample Interview Schedules Introduction: Thanks for agreeing to participate in this research. As I mentioned in my e-mail, this research is about the effect that increasing cultural diversity is having on Northern Ireland as it tries to move beyond sectarianism. The research will involve interviews with individuals, observation at events and analysis of policy and other documents. I am a postgraduate student at the University of Edinburgh, and this research will eventually be submitted as a PhD dissertation. Interview Process: Informed Consent: You will be asked for your consent to record your interview. This consent will be granted by signing the consent form that I give you. You will also be asked if the interview material can be used for research purposes. I will provide you with my contact details and you can request a copy of your interview transcript. Confidentiality: The tapes and transcripts of your interview will be held confidentially by myself. You will not be identified in any research publications, unless you request this. Questions or concerns?: If you have any questions or would like to discuss any aspect of this project at any stage, please contact me or the supervisor of this project, or ask me any questions as we go along. Do you have any questions to start? Interview lead-in: All interviews began with a short series of factual questions around topics such as how long the interviewee had been working in their position and the history and functions of their institution or organisation. These factual questions helped build rapport and made it easier to move onto more substantive issues. 240 Sample Interview Questions for ‘Government’ Interviewee: Below are a sample of the themes and questions from an interview with the Deputy Head of the Racial Equality Unit (REU): History and Structure: Q1. There seems to have been a lot of change in the government structure of Northern Ireland in recent years, could you tell me how the Racial Equality Unit came into being? Q2. What is the main function of the REU? Q3. What size is your unit? What is its budget? How many people work in the REU? Q4. What is your role within the REU? Q5. What governmental and non-governmental institutions does the REU regularly interact with? Multicultural Policy: Q1. I have read the draft of the Racial Equality Strategy. What do you think are the main aims of the Strategy? Q2. How important do you think it is to have policies aimed at culturally diverse groups in Northern Ireland? Q3. Until quite recently there was little or no legislation against racism in Northern Ireland, but now issues of racism and cultural diversity seem to be very much on the policy agenda. Would you agree with this statement? If yes, why do you think this is the case? Q3. What actions do you expect the Strategy to generate? Q4. How will the REU work with other government departments to ensure that the Strategy is implemented? Q5. The Strategy highlights the role of the Racial Equality Forum, what is this? How does it work? Do you think it has been successful? Multiculturalism, Racism and Sectarianism: Q1. There seems to have been an increase in reports of racist incidents, do you think racism is a serious problem in Northern Ireland? If yes, what do you think needs to be done about this issue? 241 Q2. Do you think cultural diversity is changing Northern Ireland? If yes, in what ways? Q3. Some people have suggested to me that the government’s focus on tackling racism is an attempt to distract attention away from sectarianism in Northern Irish society. Would you agree with this statement? Sample Interview Questions for ‘Community’ Interviewee: Below are a sample of the themes and questions from an interview with the Chief Executive Officer of the Northern Ireland Council for Ethnic Minorities (NICEM): History: Q1. When was NICEM founded? Why? Q2. When NICEM began what kind of work was it engaged in? Q3. How has NICEM changed over the years? Current Activities: Q1. Who are members of NICEM? Q2. How is NICEM funded? Q3. What kind of events do NICEM organise and participate in? Q4. Is NICEM involved in events to raise awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland? If yes, what exactly does this event(s) involve and what are its aims? Who is expected to attend the event(s)? Where did funding for the event(s) come from? Government Responses to Racism: Q1. What is your opinion of government’s responses to the problem of racism in Northern Ireland? Are you satisfied with the actions of the Police Service of Northern Ireland around ‘race’ hate crime? Q2. Do you think government initiatives aimed at tackling racism and promoting good race relations have been successful? What issues/concerns have you with these? Q3. How familiar are you with the policies A Shared Future and Racial Equality Strategy? Do you think they can have a positive benefit for minorities in Northern Ireland? 242 Multiculturalism and Sectarianism: Q1. Do you think cultural diversity is changing Northern Ireland? If yes, in what ways? Q2. In your opinion, what are the biggest problems facing members of ethnically- identified minorities in Northern Ireland today? Q3. Do you ever feel that sometimes racism and racial discrimination are not being addressed because of sectarianism? If yes, tell me about an experience you have had of this happening. Participant Observation As the interview with the ‘community’ interviewee draws to a close, I explain that I am interested in attending events they are organising to raise awareness of cultural diversity in Northern Ireland. I explain that I am interested in speaking with participants at the event as part of the research and request permission to do so. 243 Appendix IV: Consent Form Project Title: Beyond Orange and Green: Multiculturalism and Sectarianism in Northern Ireland. Researcher Contact Details: p.geoghegan@sms.ed.ac.uk tel: 07770501423 What am I consenting to: By signing this form I consent to being interviewed by Peter Geoghegan, and having my interview used as part of his doctoral research on the effect that increasing cultural diversity is having on Northern Ireland as it tries to move beyond sectarianism. This project is for research and not commercial purposes. Your consent is totally voluntary and may be withdrawn at anytime. I promise to do my utmost to respect both your confidentiality and your anonymity, but you should be aware that this cannot always be guaranteed. The recordings and transcripts of this interview will be stored in a locked drawer in my office and will only be accessed by myself. If you have any queries, either now or at a later date, about my conduct or the conduct of this research you are welcome to contact me or Prof. Jane Jacobs, Chair of the Institute of Geography Ethics Committee at the University of Edinburgh (Jane.Jacobs@ed.ac.uk). Also, if you do not have a problem with me contacting you at a later date if there are any questions I have forgotten to ask or statements that require clarification, please leave an e-mail address and/or telephone number. If you do not wish to be contacted again please let me know. Name (please print): Confirmation of Consent (please sign): Date: � � ������� � �� ������������������� � � ����������� ������������ � ���������������� �������� �� �!"#� � 244 Appendix V Published Material 245 265 Bibliography Abbas, T. 2005. Recent developments to British multicultural theory, policy and practice: The case of British Muslims. Citizenship Studies 9(2), 153-166. Agamben, G. 1998. Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. Stanford, University Press. Alexander, C. and Alleyne, B. 2002. Introduction: Framing difference: Racial and ethnic studies in twenty-first-century Britain. Ethnic and Racial Studies 23(4), 541- 559. Alexander, N. 2002. Count me out – the Northern Ireland census. The Vacuum 6. Altrichter, H. and Holly, M. L. 2005. Research diaries. In Somekh, B. and Lewin, C. (eds.) Research Methods in the Social Sciences. London, Sage, 24-33. Anderson, J. A. and Shuttleworth, I. 1994. Sectarian readings of sectarianism: Interpreting the Northern Ireland census. The Irish Review 16, 74-93. Anderson J.A. and Shuttleworth, I. 1998. Sectarian demography, territoriality and political development in Northern Ireland. Political Geography 17(2), 187-208. Anderson, J. A., Shuttleworth, I., Lloyd, C. and McEldowney, O. 2004. End of award report: Political demography: The Northern Ireland census, discourse and territoriality. Available at http://www.esrcsocietytoday.ac.uk/. Last accessed 4th July 2007. Anderson, K. 2002. The racialization of difference: Enlarging the story field. The Professional Geographer 54(1), 25-30. Anthias, F. and Yuval-Davis, N. 1992. Racialised Boundaries: Race, Nation, Gender, Colour and Class and the Anti-Racist Struggle. London and New York, Routledge. 266 Anthias, F. and Lloyd, C. 2002. Introduction: Fighting racisms, defining territory. In Anthias, F. and Lloyd, C. (eds.) Rethinking Anti-racisms: From Theory to Practice. London and New York, Routledge, 1-21. Arel, D. 2002. Language categories in censuses: Backward- or forward-looking. In Kertzer, D. and Arel, D. (eds.) Census and Identity: The Politics of Race, Ethnicity and Languages in National Censuses. Cambridge, University Press, 92-120. Aretxaga, B. 1997. Shattering Silence: Women, Nationalism and Political Subjectivity in Northern Ireland. Chichester, Princeton University Press Back, L. 1996. New Ethnicities and Urban Culture. New York, St. Martin’s Press. Back, L. and Solomos, J. (eds.) 2000. Theories of Race and Racism: A Reader. London, Routledge. Bairner, A. 2006. Titanic town: Sport, space and the re-imag(in)ing of Belfast. City and Society 18(2), 159-179. Bairner, A. and Shirlow, P. 1998. Loyalism, Linfield and the territorial politics of soccer fandom in Northern Ireland. Space and Polity 2(2), 163-177. Balibar, E. 1991. Racism and nationalism. In Balibar, E. and Wallerstein, L. (eds.) Race, Class and Nation: Ambiguous Identities. London, Verso, 37-67. Banks, M. 2001. Visual Methods in Social Research. London, Sage. Banton, M. 1967 Race Relations. London, Tavistock. Banton, M. 2005a. Finding, and correcting, my mistakes. Sociology 39(3), 483-499. Banton, M. 2005b. Three current issues in ethnic and racial studies. The British Journal of Sociology 56(4), 621-633. 267 Bardon, J. 2001. A History of Ulster. Belfast, Blackstaff Press. Barker, M. 1981. The New Racism: Conservatives and the Ideology of the Tribe. London, Junction Books. Barnard, M. 2001. Approaches to Understanding Visual Culture. Basingstoke, Palgrave. Barry, B. 2001. Culture and Equality: An Egalitarian Critique of Multiculturalism. Cambridge, Polity Press. Barth, F. 1969. Ethnic Groups and Boundaries. London, Little Brown and Co. Barthes, R. 1972. Mythologies. London, Jonathon Cape. BBC News Online. 2004. Race hate on the rise in NI. Available at http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/3390249.stm. Last accessed 17th December 2006. Bell, K., Jarman, N., and Lefebvre, T. 2004. Migrant Workers in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Institute for Conflict Research. Ben-Tovim, G., Gabriel, J., Law, I. and Stredder, K. 1992. A political analysis of local struggles for racial equality. In Braham, P., Rattansi, A. and Skellington, R. (eds.) Racism and Antiracism: Inequalities, Opportunities and Policies. London, Sage, 201-217. Bhabha, H. 1994. Remembering Fanon: Self, psyche and the colonial tradition. In Williams, R.J.P. and Chrisman, L. (eds.) Colonial Discourse and Post-Colonial Theory: A Reader. New York, Columbia University Press, 66-111. Billig, M. 1995. Banal Nationalism. London, Sage. 268 Blaumer, B. 1995. White radicals, white liberals and white people: Rebuilding the anti-racist coalition. In Bowser, B. (ed.) Racism and Anti-racism in World Perspectives. London, Sage, 115-137. Boal, F.W. 1969. Territoriality and the Shankill/Falls divide, Belfast. Irish Geography 6(1), 30-50. Boal, F.W. 2002. Belfast: Walls within. Political Geography 21(5), 687-694. Boal, F.W. and Douglas, N. (eds.) 1982. Integration and Division: Geographical Perspectives on the Northern Ireland Problem. London, Academic Press. Boal, F.W. and Livingstone, D. 1984. The frontier in the city: Ethno-nationalism in Belfast. International Political Science Review 5, 161-179. Body-Gendrot, S. 1998. “Now you see, now you don’t”: Comments on Paul Gilroy’s article. Ethnic and Racial Studies 21(5), 848-58. Bonnett, A. 1993. Radicalism, Anti-racism and Representation. London, Routledge. Bonnett, A. 1996. Constructions of ‘race’, place and discipline: Geographies of ‘racial’ identity and racism. Ethnic and Racial Studies 19(4), 864-883. Bonnett, A. 1997. Constructions of whiteness in European and American anti-racism. In Werbner, P. and Modood, T. (eds.) Debating Cultural Hybridity: Multi-Cultural Identities and the Politics of Anti-racism. London, Zed Books, 173-192. Bonnett, A. 1999. White Identities: Historical and International Perspectives, Harlow: Prentice Hall. Bonnett, A. 2000. Anti-racism. London, Routledge. Bonnett, A. and Carrington, B. 1996. Constructions of anti-racist education in Britain and Canada. Comparative Education 32(3), 271-288. 269 Brewer, J. 1992. Sectarianism and racism, and their parallels and differences. Ethnic and Racial Studies 15(3), 352-64. Brewer, J., Lockhart, B. and Rodgers, P. 1998. Informal social control and crime management in Belfast. The British Journal of Sociology 49, 570-585. Bridge, G. 2005. Reason in the City of Difference. Oxford, Routledge Brown, K. 2007. ‘Our father organization’: The cult of the Somme and the Unionist 'Golden Age' in modern Ulster Loyalist commemoration. Round Table: The Commonwealth Journal of International Affairs 96, 707-723. Bryan, D. 2000. Orange Parades: The Politics of Ritual, Tradition and Control. London, Pluto Press. Bryan, D. 2003. Belfast: Urban space, “policing” and sectarian polarization. In Schneider, J. and Susser, I. (eds.) Wounded Cities: Destruction and Reconstruction in a Globalized World. Oxford, Berg, 251-270. Bryan, D. 2006. The politics of community. Critical Review of International Social and Political Philosophy 9(4), 603-617. Buckland, P. 1981. A History of Northern Ireland. Dublin, Gill and Macmillan. Buckley, A. and Kenney, M. 1995. Negotiating Identity: Rhetoric, Metaphor and Social Drama in Ireland. Washington, Smithsonian Institute. Bulmer, M. and Solomos, J. 1998. Introduction: Re-thinking ethnic and racial studies. Ethnic and Racial Studies 21(5), 819-837. Burgess, T. P. 2002. Community Relations, Community Identity and Social Policy in Northern Ireland. New York, The Edwin Mellon Press. Burton, F. 1978. The Politics of Legitimacy. London, City University. 270 Burton, F. 1979. Ideological social relations in Northern Ireland. The British Journal of Sociology 30(1), 61-80. Butler, J. 1990. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. London, Routledge. Butler, J. 1993. Bodies that Matter: On the Discursive Limits of ‘Sex’. London, Routledge. Cairns, D. 2000. The object of sectarianism: The material reality of sectarianism in Ulster Loyalism. The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 6(3), 437-452. Cairns, D. 2001. Moving the immovable: Discursive challenge and discursive change in Ulster Loyalism. European Journal of Cultural Studies 4(1), 85-104. Cantle, T. 2001. Community Cohesion: A Report for the Independent Review Team. London, Home Office. Castles, S. 1996. The racisms of globalisation. In E. Vasta and S. Castles (eds.) The Teeth Smiling: The Persistence of Racism in Multicultural Australia. Sydney, Allen and Unwin. Central Community Relations Unit 1992. Race Relations in Northern Ireland. Available at http://www.ccruni.gov.uk/equality/docs/race.htm. Last accessed 28th June 2007. Chan, S. 2006. ‘God’s little acre’ and ‘Belfast Chinatown’: Cultural politics and agencies of anti-racist spatial inscription. Translocations 1(1), 56-75. Coakley, J. 2007. National identity in Northern Ireland: Stability or change? Nations and Nationalism 13(4), 573-597. Coakley, J. and O’Dowd, L. 2007. The transformation of the Irish border. Political Geography 26(8), 877-885. 271 Cochrane, A. 1998. Illusions of power: Interviewing local elites. Environment and Planning A 30, 2121-2132. Cochrane, F. 2001. Unionist Politics and the Politics of Unionism since the Anglo- Irish Agreement. Cork, University Press. Cohen, A. P. 1985. The Symbolic Construction of Community. London, Routledge. Cohen, P. (ed.) 1999. New Ethnicities, Old Racisms. London, Zed Books. Community Cohesion Panel Final Report. 2004. The End of Parallel Lives? London, Home Office. Community Relations Council (CRC). 1994. Fourth Annual Report. Belfast, CRC. Community Relations Council. 2004. A Good Relations Framework: An Approach to the Development of Good Relations. Belfast, CRC. Compton, P.A. and Power, J. 1986. Estimates of the religious composition of Northern Ireland local government districts in 1981 and change in the geographical pattern of religious composition between 1971 and 1981. Economic and Social Review 17(2), 87-105. Connolly, P. 2002. ‘Race’ and Racism in Northern Ireland: A Review of the Research Evidence. Belfast, Office of the First Minister and the Deputy First Minister (OFMDFM). Connolly, P. and Keenan, M. 2000a. Racial Attitudes and Prejudice in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency. Connolly, P. and Keenan, M. 2000b. Opportunities for All: Minority Ethnic People’s Experience of Education, Training and Employment in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency. 272 Connolly, P. and Keenan, M. 2001. The Hidden Truth: Racist Harassment in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency. Cook, I. 2005. Participant observation. In Flowerdew, R. and Martin, D. (eds.) Methods in Human Geography. Harlow, Prentice Hall, 167-188. Corbetta, P. 2003. Social Research: Theory, Methods and Techniques. London, Sage. Cornell, D. and Murphy, S. 2002. Anti-racism, multiculturalism and the politics of identification. Philosophy and Social Criticism 28(4), 419-449. Coulter, C. 1999. Contemporary Northern Irish Society: An Introduction. London, Pluto Press. Cox, M., Guelke, A. and Stephen, F. 2006. Introduction: A farewell to arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement. In Cox, M., Guelke, A. and Stephen, F. (eds.) A Farewell to Arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement. Manchester, University Press, 1-6. Craig, G. 2007. Social justice in a multicultural society: Experience from the UK. Studies in Social Justice 1(1), 93-108. Crang, M. 2003. Qualitative methods: Touchy, feely, look-see? Progress in Human Geography 27(4), 494-504. Crang, M. 2005. Analysing qualitative materials. In Flowerdew, R. and Martin, D. (eds.) Methods in Human Geography. Harlow, Prentice Hall, 218-233. Cresswell, T. 2004. Place: A Short Introduction. London, Blackwell. Czarniawska, B. 1998. A Narrative Approach to Organization Studies. London, Sage. 273 Darby, J. 1976. Conflict in Northern Ireland: The Development of a Polarised Community. Dublin, Gill and Macmillan. Darby, J. and Morris, G. 1974. Intimidation in Housing. Belfast, The Northern Ireland Community Relations Council. Denizen, N. K. 1989. Interpretative Interactionism. Newbury Park, CA, Sage. Denizen, N. K. 1998. The art and politics of interpretation. In Denizen, N. K. and Lincoln, Y. S. (eds.) Collecting and Interpreting Qualitative Methods. London, Sage, 313-345. Denney, D. 1997. Anti-racism and the limits of equal opportunities policy in the criminal justice system. Social Policy and Administration 31(5), 79-95. Detant, A. 2005. The politics of anti-racism in Belgium. Ethnicities 5(2), 183-215. Devine, T. 2006. Migrant workers in Northern Ireland: Responding to the challenge. In Northern Ireland Labour Market Bulletin No. 20. Belfast, Department of Education and Learning, 241-247. Dey, I. 1993. Qualitative Data Analysis: A User Friendly Guide for Social Scientists. Routledge, London. Dickey, A. 1972. Anti-incitement legislation in Britain and Northern Ireland. New Community 1(2), 133-138. Doherty, P. and Poole, M.A. 1996. Ethnic Residential Segregation in Northern Ireland. Coleraine, University of Ulster. Doonan, H. and O’Brien, M. 1998. ‘Because you stick out, you stand out’: Perceptions of prejudice among Northern Ireland’s Pakistani’s. In Hainsworth, P. (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 222-240. 274 Douglas, N. 1998. The politics of accommodation, social change and conflict resolution in Northern Ireland. Political Geography 17(2), 209-229. Dowler, L. 2001. No man’s land: Gender and the geopolitics of mobility in West Belfast, Northern Ireland. Geopolitics 6(3), 158-176. Duffy, M. 2005. Performing identity within a multicultural framework. Social and Cultural Geography 6(5), 677-692. Dwyer, C. 1998. Contested identities: Challenging dominant representations of young British Muslim women. In Skelton, T. and Valentine, G. (eds.) Cool Places: Geographies of Youth Cultures. London, Routledge, 50-64. Dwyer, C. and Crang, P. 2002. Fashioning ethnicities: The commercial spaces of multiculture. Ethnicities 2(3), 410-430. Dwyer, C. and Limb, M. 2001. Introduction: Doing qualitative research in geography. In Limb, M. and Dwyer, C. (eds.) Qualitative Methodologies for Geographers: Issues and Debates. London, Arnold, 1-22. Ellis, G. 2001a. The difference context makes: Planning and ethnic minorities in Northern Ireland. European Planning Studies 9(3), 229-358. Ellis, G. 2001b. Social exclusion, equality and the Good Friday Peace Agreement: The implications for land use planning. Policy and Politics 29(4), 393-411. Emerson, N. 2005. A double-edged welcome in the West? Thursday 28th April, 2005. Available at http://sluggerotoole.com/index.php/weblog/comments/a_double_edged_welcome_in _the_west/. Last accessed 20th November 2007. Emmison, M. and Smith, P. 2000. Researching the Visual. London, Sage. 275 Essed, P. 1991. Understanding Everyday Racism: An Interdisciplinary Theory. London, Sage. Eyles, J. 1988. Interpreting the geographical world. In Eyles, J. and Smith, D. M. (eds.) Qualitative Methods in Human Geography. Cambridge, Polity Press, 1-7. Fairclough, N. 1989. Language and Power. London, Longman. Fairclough, N. 1992. Discourse and Social Change. Cambridge, Polity Press. Fairclough, N. 1995. Media Discourse. London, Edward Arnold. Farrell, M. 1980. Northern Ireland: The Orange State. London, Pluto. Feldman, A. 1991. Formations of Violence: The Narrative of the Body and Political Terror in Northern Ireland. Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Fischer, F. 2003. Reframing Public Policy. Oxford, University Press. Flick, U. 1998. An Introduction to Qualitative Research. London, Sage. Fontana, A. and Frey, J. H. 1998. Interviewing: The art of science. In Denizen, N. K. and Lincoln, Y. S. (eds.) Collecting and Interpreting Qualitative Methods. London, Sage, 47-79. Fontana, A. and Frey, J. H. 2000. The interview: From structured questions to negotiated text. In Denizen, N. K. and Lincoln, Y. S. (eds.) Handbook of Qualitative Research (2nd edition). London, Sage, 645-672. Forester, J. 1999. The Deliberative Practitioner. Cambridge, Mass., MIT Press. Foster, R. F. 1990. Modern Ireland: 1600-1972. London, Penguin. 276 Foucault, M. 1967. Madness and Civilisation: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. London, Tavistock. Foucault, M. 1972. The Archaeology of Knowledge. London, Tavistock. Foucault, M. 1973. The Birth of the Clinic: An Archaeology of Medical Perception. London, Tavistock. Foucault, M. 1974. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences. London, Routledge. Foucault, M. 1979. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. New York, Vintage/Random House. Fraser, N. 1998. From redistribution to recognition? Dilemmas of justice in a ‘post- socialist’ age. In Willett, C. (ed.) Theorizing Multiculturalism: A Guide to the Current Debate. Oxford, Blackwell, 19-49. Fyfe, N. 1995. Law and order policy and the spaces of citizenship in contemporary Britain. Political Geography 14(2), 177-189. Gallagher, T. 1992. Fair employment and religion in Northern Ireland: An overview. International Journal of Manpower 13(6), 245-264. Gallaher, C. and Shirlow, P. 2006. The geography of Loyalist paramilitary feuding in Belfast. Space and Polity 10(2), 149-169. Garner, S. 2004. Racism in the Irish Experience. London, Pluto Press. Gilligan, C. 2007. The Irish Question and the concept “identity” in the 1980s. Nations and Nationalism 14(4), 599-617. 277 Gilligan, C. and Lloyd, K. 2006. Racial Prejudice in Northern Ireland. Available at http://www.ark.ac.uk/publications/updates/update44.pdf. Last accessed on 8th August 2006. Gilroy, P. 1987. There ain’t no Black in the Union Jack: The Cultural Politics of Race and Nation. London, Macmillan. Gilroy, P. 1998. Race ends here. Ethnic and Racial Studies 21(5), 838-47. Gilroy, P. 2001. The end of anti-racism. In Essed, P. and Goldberg, D.T. (eds.) Race Critical Theories: Text and Context. Oxford, Blackwell, 249-264. Giroux, H.A. 2003. Public pedagogy and the politics of resistance: Notes on a critical theory of educational struggle. Educational Philosophy and Theory 35(1), 5–16. Glaser, B. G. 1978. Theoretical Sensitivity. Mill Valley, Sociology Press. Glaser, B. G. and Strauss, A. 1967. The Discovery of Grounded Theory. Chicago, Aldine. Goldberg, D.T. 2006. Racial Europeanization. Ethnic and Racial Studies 29(2), 331- 364. Good Friday Agreement 1998. The Belfast Agreement. Available at http://ofmdfmni.gov.uk./publications/ba.htm. Last accessed 23rd June 2007. Gorden, R.L. 1980. Interviewing: Strategy, Techniques and Tactics. London, Dorsey. Graham, B. and Nash, C. 2006. A shared future: Territoriality, pluralism and public policy in Northern Ireland. Political Geography 25(2), 253-278. Graham, B. and Shirlow, P. 2002. The Battle of the Somme in Ulster memory and identity. Political Geography 21(7), 881-904. 278 Gramsci, A. 1971. Selections from the Prison Notebooks. New York, International Publishers. Green, A., Shuttleworth, I. and Lavery, S. 2005. Young people, job search and local labour markets: The example of Belfast. Urban Studies 42(2), 301-324. Griffiths, H. 1972. The Northern Ireland Community Relations Commission. New Community 1(2), 128-132. Grillo, R. 2007. An excess of alterity? Debating difference in a multicultural society. Ethnic and Racial Studies 30(6), 979-998. Hadden, T. 2003. Putting People into Boxes. Fortnight Magazine 411, 6. Hage, G. 2000. White Nation: Fantasies of White Supremacy in a Multicultural Society. London, Pluto Press. Hainsworth, P. 1998. Politics, racism and ethnicity in Northern Ireland. In Hainsworth, P (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 33-51. Halkier, H. 2003. Discourse, institutionalism and public policy: Theory, methods and a Scottish case study. Discussion Paper No. 23, SPIRIT, University of Aalborg. Available at http://www2.ihis.aau.dk/spirit/pub/disc_papers/23_Halkier-2003.pdf. Last accessed 10th February 2007. Hall, S. 1992. New ethnicities. In Donald, J. and Rattansi, A. (eds.) ‘Race’, Culture and Difference. London, Sage, 252-259. Hall, S. 1993. Culture, community, nation. Cultural Studies 7(3), 349-363. Hall, S. 1997. Introduction. In Hall, S. (ed.) Representation: Cultural Representations and Signifying Practices. London, Sage, 1-11. 279 Hall, S. 2000. The multi-cultural question. In Hesse, B. (ed.) Un/Settled Multiculturalisms: Diasporas, Entanglements, Transruptions. London, Zed Books, 209-241. Hannah, M. G. 2001. Sampling and the politics of representation in US Census 2000. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 19(5), 515-534. Harvey, C. 2001. Human Rights, Equality and Democratic Renewal in Northern Ireland. Oxford, Hart. Hayes, B.C. and Dowds, L. 2006. Social contact, cultural marginality or economic self-interest? Attitudes towards immigrants in Northern Ireland. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 32(3), 455-476. Hayes, M. 1972. Community Relations and the role of the Community Relations Commission in Northern Ireland: The text of a Runnymede lecture given on 15 th June 1972. London, Runnymede Trust. Hennessey, T. 2005. The Origins of the Troubles. Dublin, Gill and Macmillan. Hesse, B. 2000. Introduction: Unsettled/multiculturalism. In Hesse, B. (ed.) Un/settled Multiculturalisms: Diasporas, Entanglements, Transruptions. London, Zed Books, 1-30. Hickman, M. and Walter, B. 1997. Discrimination and the Irish Community: A Report of Research Undertaken for the Commission for Racial Equality. London, CRE. Home Office. 2000. Stephen Lawrence Inquiry: Home Secretary’s Action Plan, First Annual Report on Progress. London, Home Office. Home Office. 2005. Managed Migration: Working for Britain. London, Home Office. 280 Home Office. 2006. Accession Monitoring Report May 2004 – December 2005. London, Home Office. Honneth, A. 2001. Recognition or redistribution? Changing perspectives on the moral order of society. Theory, Culture and Society 18(2), 43-55. Hopkins, P. E. 2004. Young Muslim men in Scotland: Inclusions and exclusions. Children's Geographies 2(2), 257-272. Hopkins, P. E. 2007. Young people, masculinities, religion and race: New social geographies. Progress in Human Geography 31(2), 163-177. Horowitz, D. 1985. Ethnic Groups in Conflict. Berkeley, University of California. House of Commons 2005. Northern Ireland Affairs Committee: The Challenge of Diversity: Hate Crime in Northern Ireland Ninth Report of Session 2004-05. London, Her Majesty’s Stationary Office. Howells, R. 2003. Visual Culture. Cambridge, Polity Press. Hughes, J. and Donnelly, C. 2003. Community relations in Northern Ireland: A shift in attitudes? Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 29(4), 643-661. Ignatiev, N. 1995. How the Irish Became White. London, Routledge. Indian Community Centre. 2004. An Introduction to the Indian Community Centre. Belfast, Indian Community Centre. Irwin, G. 1998. The Indian community in Northern Ireland. In Hainsworth, P. (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 184-197. Irwin, G. and Dunn, S. 1997. Ethnic Minorities in Northern Ireland. Coleraine, University of Ulster. 281 Jackson, P. 1987. The idea of ‘race’ and the geography of racism. In Jackson, P. (ed.) Race and Racism: Essays in Social Geography. London, Routledge, 3-21. Jackson, P. 1988. Street life: The politics of carnival. Society and Space 6, 213-227. Jackson, P. 1989. Geography, race and racism. In Peet, R. and Thrift, N. (eds.) New Models in Geography: Volume 2. London, Unwin Hyman, 176-193. Jackson, P. 1992. The politics of the streets: A geography of Caribana. Political Geography 11(2), 130-151. Jackson, P. 1993. Policing difference: ‘Race’ and crime in metropolitan Toronto. In Jackson, P. and Penrose, J. (eds.) Constructions of Race, Place and Nation. London, UCL Press, 181-200. Jackson, P. 1994a. Maps of Meaning: An Introduction to Cultural Geography (3rd Reprint). London, Routledge. Jackson, P. 1994b. Constructions of criminality: Police-community relations in Toronto. Antipode 26(3), 216-235. Jackson, P. 1998. Constructions of ‘whiteness’ in the geographical imagination. Area 30(2), 99-106. Jackson, P. 2000. Rematerializing social and cultural geography. Social and Cultural Geography 1(1), 9-14. Jackson, P. and Penrose, J. 1993. Placing “race” and nation. In Jackson, P. and Penrose, J. (eds.) Constructions of Race, Place and Nation. London, UCL Press, 1- 27. Jacobs, J. M. and Nash, C. 2003. Too little, too much: cultural feminist geographies. Gender Place and Culture 10(3): 265-280. 282 Jarman, N. 1995. Intersecting Belfast. In Bender, B. (ed.) Landscape: Politics and Perspectives. Oxford, Berg, 107-138. Jarman, N. 1997. Material Conflicts: Parades and Visual Displays in Northern Ireland. Oxford, Berg. Jarman, N. 1998. Painting landscapes: The place of murals in the symbolic construction of urban space. In Buckley A. (ed.) Symbols in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Institute of Irish Studies, Queens University, Belfast, 81-98. Jarman, N. 2006. Diversity, economy and policy: New patterns of migration to Northern Ireland. In Community Relations Council (eds.) Shared Space: A Research Journal on Peace, Conflict and Community Relations in Northern Ireland, No. 2. Belfast, Community Relations Council, 45-61. Jarman, N. and Monaghan, R. 2003. Racist Harassment in Northern Ireland. Belfast, OFMDFM. Jay, M. 2005. Introduction to show and tell. Journal of Visual Culture 4(2), 139-143. Jenkins, R. 1986. Northern Ireland: In what sense ‘religions’ in conflict? In Jenkins, R., Donnan, H. and McFarlane, G. (eds.) The Sectarian Divide in Northern Ireland Today. Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland Occasional Paper 41, 1-21. Jenks, C. 1995. (ed.) Visual Culture. London, Routledge. Jones, L. and Somekh, B. 2005. Observation. In Somekh, B. and Lewin, C. (eds.) Research Methods in the Social Sciences. London, Sage, 138-146. Kampfner, J. 2006. Divided in Peace. New Statesman, 20th November 2006. Karl, T. L. 1990. Dilemmas of democratisation in Latin America. Comparative Politics 23(1), 1-21. 283 Katz, C. 1994. Playing the field: Questions of fieldwork in geography. Professional Geographer 46(1), 67-72. Kearns, G. 2006. Bare life, political violence and the territorial structure of Britain and Ireland. In Gregory, D. and Pred, A. (eds.) Violent Geographies: Fear, Terror and Political Violence. New York, Routledge, 9-34. Keith, M. 1993. Race, Riots and Policing: Lore and Disorder in a Multi-Racist Society. London, UCL Press. Kemp, A. 2004. Labour migration and racialisation: Labour market mechanisms and labour migration control policies. Social Identities 10(2), 267-292. Kitchen, R. and Tate, N. J. 2000. Conducting Research in Human Geography. Harlow, Prentice Hall. Kobayashi, A. 1993. Multiculturalism: Representing a Canadian institution. In Duncan, J. and Ley, D. (eds.) Place/Culture/Representation. London, Routledge, 205-232. Kobayashi, A. and Peake, L. 2000. Racism out of place: Thoughts on whiteness and an antiracist geography in the new millennium. Annals of the American Association of Geographers 90(2), 392-403. Kong, L. 2001. Mapping 'new' geographies of religion: Politics and poetics in modernity. Progress in Human Geography 25(2), 211-233. Kurien, P. 2004. Multiculturalism, immigrant religion and diasporic nationalism: The development of an American Hinduism. Social Problems 51(3), 362-385. Kymlicka, W. 1995. Multicultural Citizenship: A Liberal Theory of Minority Rights. Oxford, University Press. 284 Kymlicka, W. 1998. Finding Our Way: Rethinking Ethnocultural Relations in Canada. New York, University Press. Kymlicka, W. 2001. Politics in the Vernacular: Nationalism, Multiculturalism and Citizenship. Oxford, University Press. Kymlicka, W. and Norman, W. 2000. Citizenship in culturally diverse societies: Issues, contexts, concepts. In Kymlicka, W. and Norman, W. (eds.) Citizenship in Diverse Societies. Oxford, University Press, 1-45. Larner, W. 2000. Post-welfare state governance: Towards a code of social and family responsibility. Social Politics 7(2), 244-265. Leavey, G., Sembhi, S. and Livingston, G. 2004. Older Irish migrants living in London: Identity, loss and return. Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 30(4), 763-79. Leichty, J. and Clegg, C. 2001. Moving Beyond Sectarianism. Dublin, Columba Press. Lentin, A. 2004. Racism and Anti-racism in Europe. London, Pluto Press. Lentin, R. 2001. Responding to the racialisation of Irishness: Disavowed multiculturalism and its discontents. Sociological Research Online 5(4). Available at http://www.socresonline.org.uk/5/4/lentin.html. Last accessed 4th March 2007. Lentin, R. and McVeigh, R. 2006a. Irishness and racism – Towards an e-reader. Translocations 1(1) 22-40. Lentin, R. and McVeigh, R. 2006b. After Optimism? Ireland, Racism and Globalisation. Dublin, Metro Eireann Publications. 285 Lester, A. 1998. From legislation to integration: Twenty years of the Race Relations Act. In Blackstone, T., Parekh, B. and Sanders, P. (eds.) Race Relations in Britain: A Developing Agenda. London, Routledge, 22-36. Lewis, H. 2006. Racism and sectarianism: Two sides of the same coin? The Northern Ireland experience. International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6(3), 27-36. Lijphart, A. 1977. Democracy in Plural Societies: A Comparative Exploration. New Haven, Yale University Press. Lijphart, A. 2004. Constitutional design for divided societies. Journal of Democracy 15(2), 96-109. Little, A. 2003. Multiculturalism, diversity and liberal egalitarianism in Northern Ireland. Irish Political Studies 18(2), 23-39. Lloyd, C. 1998. Discourses of Anti-racism in France. Aldershot, Ashgate. Lloyd, C. 2002. Anti-racism, social movements and civil society. In Anthias, F. and Lloyd, C. (eds.) Rethinking Anti-racisms: From Theory to Practice. London and New York, Routledge, 60-77. Lorimer, H. 2005. Cultural geography: The busyness of being ‘more-than- representational’. Progress in Human Geography 29(1), 83-94. Lydon, J. 2003. The Lordship of Ireland in the Middle Ages. Dublin, Four Courts Press. Lynn, N. and Lea, S.J. 2005. ‘Racist’ graffiti: Text, context and social comment. Visual Communication 4(1), 39-63. Lyons, F.S.L. 1985. Ireland Since the Famine. London, Fontana Press. 286 Macpherson, W. 1999. The Stephen Lawrence Inquiry. London, Her Majesty’s Stationary Office. Malik, K. 1996. The Meaning of Race:: Race, History and Culture in Western Society. New York, University Press. Mann-Kler, D. 1997. Out of the Shadows: An Action Research Report on Families, Racism and Exclusion in Northern Ireland. Belfast, Barnardos. March, J. G. and Olsen, J. P. 1984. The new institutionalism: Organizational factors in political life. American Political Science Review 78(5), 734-79. March, J. G. and Olsen, J. P. 1989. Rediscovering Institutions. New York, Free Press. March, J.G. and Olsen, J.P. 2006. Elaborating the “new institutionalism”. In Rhodes, R.A.W., Binder, S.A. and Rockman, B.A. (eds.) The Oxford Handbook of Political Institutions. Oxford, University Press, 3-23. Marx, K. and Engels, F. 1970. The German Ideology. New York, International Publishers. Maxwell, J. A. 1996. Qualitative Research Design: An Interactive Approach. London, Sage. McCormick, J. and Jarman, N. 2005. Death of a mural. Journal of Material Culture 10(1), 49-71. McCrudden, C. 1999. Mainstreaming equality in the governance of Northern Ireland. Fordham International Law Review 22, 16-96. McDonald, H. and Cusack, J. 1997. UVF. Dublin, Poolbeg Press. McGarry, J. 2001. Northern Ireland and the Divided World. Oxford, University Press. 287 McGarry, J. and O’Leary, B. 2004. The Northern Ireland Conflict: Consociational Engagements. Oxford, University Press. McGuiness, M. 2000. Geography matters? Whiteness and contemporary geography. Area 32(2), 225-230. McNair, D. 2006. Social and Spatial Segregation: Ethno-national Separation and Mixing in Belfast. Unpublished PhD thesis, Queen’s University, Belfast. McNally, M. 2005. Battle of the Boyne 1690: The Irish Campaign for the English Crown. Oxford, Osprey Publishing. McPeake, J. 2000. Owner-occupier residential search in a divided city. In Boal, F. W. (ed.) Ethnicity and Housing. Aldershot, Ashgate, 98-112. McVeigh, R. 1992. The specificities of Irish racism. Race and Class 33(4), 31-45. McVeigh, R. 1998. There’s no racism ‘cause there are no black people here’: Racism and anti-racism in Northern Ireland. In Hainsworth, P. (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 11-32. McVeigh, R. 1999. Is sectarianism racism? The implications of sectarian division for multi-ethnicity in Northern Ireland. In Lentin, R. (ed.) The Expanding Nation: Towards a Multi-ethnic Ireland, 16-25. Available at www.tcd.ie/sociology/mphil/dwnl/expanding_nation.pdf. Last accessed 12th January 2007. McVeigh, R. 2002a. Is there an Irish anti-racism? Building an anti-racist Ireland. In Lentin, R. and McVeigh, R. (eds.) Racism and Anti-racism in Ireland. Belfast, Beyond the Pale, 211-225. McVeigh, R. 2002b. Between reconciliation and pacification: The British state and community relations in the North of Ireland. Community Development Journal 37(1), 47-59. 288 McVeigh, R. and Lentin, R. 2002. Situated racisms: A theoretical introduction. In Lentin, R. and McVeigh, R. (eds.) Racism and Anti-racism in Ireland. Belfast, Beyond the Pale, 1-48. McVeigh, R. and Rolston, B. 2007. From Good Friday to good relations: Sectarianism, racism and the Northern Ireland state. Race and Class 48(4), 1-23. Miles, R. 1982. Racism and Migrant Labour. London, Routledge and Kegan Paul. Miles, R. 1989. Racism. London, Routledge. Miles, R. 1993. Racism after Race Relations. London, Routledge. Miles, R. 2000. Apropos the idea of ‘race’ … again. In Back, L. and Solomos, J. (eds.) Theories of Race and Racism: A Reader. London, Routledge, 125-144. Miles, R. and Torres, R. 1996. Does “race" matter? Transatlantic perspectives on racism after “Race Relations” In Amit-Talai, V. and Knowles C. (eds.) Resituating Identities. The Politics of Race, Ethnicity, and Culture. Peterborough, Ontario, Broadview Press, 24-47. Mills, S. 2003. Discourse. London, Routledge. Mirzoeff, N. 1999. An Introduction to Visual Culture. London, Routledge. Mitchell, C. 2005. Religion, Society and Politics in Northern Ireland. Aldershot, Ashgate. Mitchell, K. 2004. Geographies of identity: Multiculturalism unplugged. Progress in Human Geography 28(5), 641-651. Modood, T. 1988. “Black”, racial equality and Asian identity. New Community 14(3), 397-404. 289 Modood, T. 1998. Anti-essentialism, multiculturalism and the ‘recognition’ of religious groups. The Journal of Political Philosophy 6(4), 378-399. Moloney, E. 2007. A Secret History of the IRA. London, Penguin. Monaghan, R. and McLoughlin, S. 2006. Informal justice in the city. Space and Polity 10(2), 171-186. Morrissey, M. and Smyth, M. 2002. Northern Ireland After the Good Friday Agreement. London, Pluto Press. Mulcahy, A. 2006. Policing Northern Ireland: Conflict, Legitimacy and Reform. Devon, UK, Willan. Mullings, L. 2005. Interrogating racism: Towards an antiracist anthropology. Annual Review of Anthropology 34, 667-693. Murji, K. 2006. Using racial stereotypes in anti-racist campaigns. Ethnic and Racial Studies 29(2), 260-280. Murji, K. and Solomos, J. 2005. Racialization: Studies in Theory and Practice. Oxford, University Press. Murtagh, B. 2002. The Politics of Territory. Hampshire, NY, Palgrave Macmillan. Murtagh, B. and Keaveney, K. 2006. Policy and conflict transformation in the ethnocratic city. Space and Polity 10(2), 187-202. Mussano, S. 2004. Citizenship education policies in Northern Ireland and the recognition of ethnic and racial diversity in the wake of new immigration. Migration Letters 1(1), 2-10. 290 Nash, C. 2000. Performativity in practice: Some recent work in cultural geography. Progress in Human Geography 24(4), 653-654. Nash, C. 2003. Cultural geography: Anti-racist geographies. Progress in Human Geography 27(5), 637-648. Nash, C. 2005. Equity, diversity and interdependence: Cultural policy in Northern Ireland. Antipode 37(2), 272-300. Neill, W.J.V. 2003. Urban Planning and Cultural Identities. London, Routledge. Nic Craith, M. 2002. Plural Identities, Singular Narratives: The Case of Northern Ireland. Oxford, Berghahn Books. Northern Ireland Act. 1998. Section 75. Available at http://www.ofmdfmni.gov.uk/section_75. Last accessed 14th August 2007. Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency. 2006. Long-term International Migration Estimates for Northern Ireland (2004-05). Available at http://www.nisra.gov.uk/archive/demography/publications/NI_Migration_Report(20 05).pdf. Last accessed 18th January 2007. Ó Dochartaigh, N. 2007. Conflict, territory and new technologies: Online interaction at a Belfast interface. Political Geography 26(4), 474-491. O’Dowd, L., Rolston, B. and Tomlinson, M. 1980. Northern Ireland: Between Civil Rights and Civil War. London, CSE Books. OFMDFM. 2005a. A Shared Future: Policy and Strategic Framework for Good Relations in Northern Ireland. Belfast, OFMDFM. OFMDFM. 2005b. A Racial Equality Strategy for Northern Ireland, 2005-2010. Belfast, OFMDFM. OFMDFM internal memo. 2000. Findings from ethnic minorities working group. 291 Ogasawara, H. 2003. Performing sectarianism: Terror, spectacle and urban myth in Glasgow football cultures. Goldsmiths, London CUCR paper series. Available at http://www.goldsmiths.ac.uk/cucr/pdf/ogasawara.pdf. Last accessed 12th July 2007. Omi, M. and Winant, H.A. 1994. Racial Formation in the United States: From the 1960s to the 1990s (2nd edition). London, Routledge. Osborne, R. 2003. Progressing the equality agenda in Northern Ireland. Journal of Social Policy 32(3), 339-360. Osborne, R. and Shuttleworth, I. 2004. Fair Employment in Northern Ireland: A Generation On. Belfast, Blackstaff. Paasi, A. 1996. Territories, Boundaries and Consciousness: The Changing Geographies of the Finnish-Russian Border. London, John Wiley. Palshaugen, L.S. 2005. The Northern Ireland Civic Forum and a politics of recognition. Irish Political Studies 20(2), 147-169. Parekh, B. 2000. Rethinking Multiculturalism: Cultural Diversity and Political Theory. New York, Palgrave. Parker, D. 2000. The Chinese takeaway and the diasporic habitus: Space, time and power geometries. In Hesse, B. (ed.) Un/Settled Multiculturalisms: Diasporas, Entanglements, Transruptions. London, Zed Books, 73-95. Peake, L. and Kobayashi, A. 2002. Policies and practices for an antiracist geography at the millennium. The Professional Geographer 54(1), 50-61. Peake, L. and Schein, R. 2000. Racing geography into the next millennium: Studies of ‘race’ and North American geographies. Social and Cultural Geography 1(2), 1- 15. 292 Phizacklea, A. and Miles, R. 1980. Labour and Racism. London, Routledge and Kegan Paul. Pile, S. and Thrift, N. 1995. Mapping the Subject: Geographies of Cultural Transformation. London, Routledge. Police Service of Northern Ireland. 2007. Hate Crimes and Incidents. Available at http://www.psni.police.uk/3._hate_incidents_and_crimes-4.pdf. Last accessed 2nd February 2007. Poole, M.A. 1983. The demography of violence. In Boal, F.W. and Douglas, N.H. (eds.) Integration and Division: Geographical Perspectives on the Northern Ireland Problem. London, Academic Press, 281-308. Porter, T. M. 1995. Trust in Numbers: The Pursuit of Objectivity in Science and Public Life. New Jersey, Princeton University Press. Povenilli, E. 2002. The Cunning of Recognition: Indigenous Alterities and the Making of Australian Multiculturalism. North Carolina, Duke University Press. Punch, K. F. 2005. Introduction to Social Research. London, Sage. Reiner, R. 1985. The Politics of the Police. Brighton, Wheatsheaf. Rex, J. 1983. Race Relations in Sociological Theory (2nd Edition). London, Routledge and Kegan Paul. Roediger, D. 1992. The Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the American Working Class. London, Verso. Rogers, D. 2006. Migrant workers in Northern Ireland: What is the current situation? In Northern Ireland Labour Market Bulletin No. 20 Belfast, Department of Employment and Learning, 239-240. 293 Rolston, B. 1991. Politics and Painting: Murals and Conflict in Northern Ireland. London, Associated Universities Press. Rolston, B. 1992. Drawing Support: Murals in the North of Ireland. Belfast, Beyond the Pale. Rolston, B. 1995. Drawing Support 2: Murals of War and Peace. Belfast, Beyond the Pale. Rolston, B. 1998. What’s wrong with multiculturalism? Liberalism and the Irish conflict. In Miller, D. (ed.) Rethinking Northern Ireland. Harrow, Longman, 253- 275. Rolston, B. 2003a. Changing the political landscape: Murals and transition in Northern Ireland. Irish Studies Review 11(1), 3-17. Rolston, B. 2003b. Drawing Support 3: Murals and Transition in the North of Ireland. Belfast, Beyond the Pale. Rolston, B. 2004. Legacy of intolerance: Racism and Unionism in South Belfast. Institute of Race Relations News, 10th February 2004. Available at http://www.irr.org.uk/2004/february/ak000008.html. Last accessed 25th March 2007. Rose, G. 1997. Situating knowledges: Postionality, reflexivities and other tactics. Progress in Human Geography 21(3), 305-320. Rose, G. 2001. Visual Methodologies. London, Sage. Rowe, M. 2004. Policing, Race and Racism. Devon, Willan. Ruane, J. and Todd, J. 1999. The Belfast Agreement: Context, content and consequences. In Ruane, J. and Todd, J. (eds.) After the Good Friday Agreement: Analyzing Political Change in Northern Ireland. Dublin, University College Dublin Press, 1-29. 294 Rubin, H. J. and Rubin, I. S. 1995. Qualitative Interviewing: The Art of Hearing Data. London, Sage. Ryan, J. 2003. Who’s afraid of visual culture. Antipode 35(2), 232-237. Sack, R. 1986. Human Territoriality: Its Theory and History. Cambridge, University Press. Sarantakos, S. 1993. Social Research. Basingstoke, Macmillan. Scarman, L. 1981. The Scarman Report: The Brixton Disorders 10-12 April 1981. Harmondsworth, Penguin. Schaap, A. 2004. Political reconciliation through a struggle for recognition? Social and Legal Studies 13(4), 523-540. Schirato, T. and Webb, J. 2004. Understanding the Visual. London, Sage. Schostak, J. 2006. Interviewing and Representation in Qualitative Research. Maidenhead, Open University Press. Schubotz, D. 2005. Beyond the orange and the green: The diversification of the qualitative social research landscape in Northern Ireland. Forum: Qualitative Social Research 6(3). Available at http://www.qualitative-research.net/fqs-texte/3-05/05-3- 29-e.htm. Last accessed 4th October 2007. Scott, J. 1999. Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Conditions Have Failed. Boston, Yale University Press. Shirlow, P. 2003 ‘Who fears to speak’: Fear, mobility and ethno-sectarianism in the ‘Two Ardoynes’. The Global Review of Ethnopolitics 3(1), 76-91. Shirlow, P. 2006. Belfast: The ‘post-conflict’ city. Space and Polity 10(2), 99-107. 295 Shirlow, P. and McGovern, M. 1996. Sectarianism, socioeconomic competition and the political economy of Ulster Loyalism. Antipode 28(4), 379-398. Shirlow, P. and Murtagh, B. 2004. Capacity Building, Representation and Intra- Community Conflict. Urban Studies 41(1), 57-70. Shirlow, P. and Murtagh, B. 2006. Belfast: Segregation, Violence and the City. London, Pluto Press. Shuttleworth, I. 2007. Reconceptualising labour markets in the context of cross- border and transnational labour flows: The Irish example. Political Geography 26(2), 968-981. Siber, M. 2005. Visual literacy in the public sphere. Visual Communication 4(1), 5- 20. Silverman, D. 1993. Interpreting Qualitative Data: Methods for Analysing Talk, Text and Interaction. London, Sage. Silverstein, P.A. 2005. Immigrant racialization and the new savage slot: Race, migration, and immigration in the new Europe. Annual Review of Anthropology 34, 363-385. Simpson, K. and Daly, P. 2004. Politics and education in Northern Ireland – An analytical history. Irish Studies Review 12(2), 163-174. Sivanandan, A. 1983. Challenging Racism. Race and Class 25(2), 1-11. Sivanandan, A. 2006. Race, terror and civil society. Race and Class 47(3), 1-8. Sluka, J. 1997. The writings on the wall: Peace process images, symbols and murals in Northern Ireland. Critique of Anthropology 16(4), 381-394. 296 Soares, A. 2002. Relatório Sobre Trabalhadores. Available at http://www.mcrc- ni.org/publications/pub_peng/rst_eng.htm. Last accessed 24th January 2007. Solomos, J. 2003. Race and Racism in Britain. Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan. Solomos, J. and Back, L. 1996. Racism and Society. Hounslow, Macmillan. Springfield Charitable Association 2004. Race and Ethnic Community Integration Conference Report. Belfast, Springfield Charitable Association. Standing Advisory Commission on Human Rights. 1990. Second Report: Religious and Political Discrimination and Equality of Opportunity in Northern Ireland. London, Her Majesty’s Stationary Office. Stringer, M. and Cairns, E. 1983. Catholic and Protestant young people’s ratings of stereotypes of Catholic and Protestant faces. British Journal of Social Psychology 25, 349-352. Sturken, M. and Cartwright, L. 2001. Practices of Looking. Oxford, University Press. Sudgen, J. and Bairner, A. 1993. Sport, Sectarianism and Society in a Divided Ireland. Leicester, University Press. Taguieff, P.A. 2001. The Force of Prejudice: On Racism and Its Doubles. Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press. Taylor, C. 1989. Sources of the Self: The Making of Modern Identity. Cambridge, University Press. Taylor, C. 1994. The politics of recognition. In Guttman, A. (ed.) Multiculturalism: Examining the Politics of Recognition. New Jersey, Princeton University Press, 75- 104. Tennant, V. 2001. Sanctuary in a Cell. Belfast, Law Centre (NI). 297 Teo, P. 2000. Racism in the news: A critical discourse analysis of news reporting in two Australian newspapers. Discourse and Society 11(1), 7-49. The Loyalist Commission 2005. Loyalist or Racist? You Can’t be Both. Belfast, Loyalist Commission. Thompson, S. 2002. Parity of esteem and the politics of recognition. Contemporary Political Theory 1(2), 203-220. Thornes, J. E. 2004. The visual turn and geography (response to Rose 2003 intervention). Antipode 36(5), 787–794. Thrift, N. 1996. Spatial Formations. London, Sage. Thrift, N. 1999. Steps to an ecology of place. In Massey, D., Allen, J. and Sarre, P. (eds.) Human Geography Today. Cambridge, Polity Press, 295-322. Todd, J. 1987. Two traditions in Unionist political culture. Irish Political Studies 2(1), 1-26. Todd, J. 2007. Introduction: National identity in transition? Moving out of conflict in (Northern) Ireland. Nations and Nationalism 13(4), 565-571. Tonge, J. 2005. The New Northern Irish Politics? Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan. Tonge, J. 2006. Polarisation or new moderation? Party politics since the GFA. In Cox, M., Guelke, A. and Stephen, F. (eds.) A Farewell to Arms? Beyond the Good Friday Agreement. Manchester, University Press, 70-89. Tonkiss, F. 1998. Analysing discourse. In Seale, C. (ed.) Researching Society and Culture. London, Sage, 245-260. 298 Troyna, B. 1987. Beyond multiculturalism: Towards the enactment of anti-racist education in policy, provision and pedagogy. Oxford Review of Education 13(3), 307-320. Uitermark, J., Rossi, U. and Van Houtum, H. 2005. Reinventing multiculturalism: Urban citizenship and the negotiation of ethnic diversity in Amsterdam. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 29(3), 622-640. Valentine, G. 2005. Tell me about … Using interviews as a research methodology. In Flowerdew, R. and Martin, D. (eds.) Methods in Human Geography. Harlow, Prentice Hall, 110-127. Van Dijk, T. 1984. Prejudice in Discourse: An Analysis of Ethnic Prejudice in Cognition and Conversation. Amsterdam, Benjamins. Van Maanen, J. 1988. Tales of the Field. Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Vasta, E. 2007. From ethnic minorities to ethnic majority policy: Multiculturalism and the shift to assimilation in the Netherlands. Ethnic and Racial Studies 30(5), 713- 740. Vertovec, S. 1996. Multiculturalism, culturalism and public incorporation. Ethnic and Racial Studies 19(1), 49-69. Vertovec, S. 2007a. Introduction: New directions in the anthropology of migration and multiculturalism. Ethnic and Racial Studies 30(6), 961-978. Vertovec, S. 2007b. Super-diversity and its implications. Ethnic and Racial Studies 30(6), 1024-1054. Virilo, P. 1995. The Art of the Motor. Minneapolis and London, University of Minnesota Press. Wade, P. 2004. Race and human nature. Anthropological Theory 4(2) 157-172. 299 Warm, D. 1998. The Jews of Northern Ireland. In Hainsworth, P. (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 222-240. Watson, A.M. and McKnight, E. 1998. Race and ethnicity in Northern Ireland: The Chinese community. In Hainsworth, P. (ed.) Divided Society: Ethnic Minorities and Racism in Northern Ireland. London, Pluto Press, 127-151. Weitzer, R. 1995. Policing Under Fire: Ethnic Conflict and Police-Community Relations in Northern Ireland. Albany, State University of New York Press Werbner, P. 2000. Introduction: The materiality of diaspora – between aesthetic and ‘real’ politics. Diaspora 9(1), 5-21. Werbner, P. 2003. The politics of multiculturalism in the new Europe. In Saunders, B. and Haljan, D. (eds.) Whither Multiculturalism? A Politics of Dissensus. Leuven, University Press, 47-58. West Against Racism Network 2005a. Passport to the Republic of Conscience. Belfast, Print.com. West Against Racism Network 2005b. Comhar na Gcomharsan: West Belfast Welcome Pack. Belfast, Print.com. West Against Racism Network 2006. Fight Bigotry, Fight Racism: Information Leaflet. Belfast, Print.com. Wettenhall, R. 1981. The quango phenomenon. Current Affairs Bulletin 57(10), 14- 22. Wetherell, M. and Potter, J. 1992. Mapping the Language of Racism: Discourse and the Legitimation of Exploitation. New York, Columbia University Press. 300 Whatmore, S. 1999. Hybrid geographies: Rethinking the 'human' in human geography. In Massey, D., Allen, J. and Sarre, P. (eds.) Human Geography Today. Cambridge, Polity Press, 22-40. Whyte, J. 1991. Interpreting Northern Ireland. Oxford, University Press. Wievorka, M. 1997. Is it so difficult to be anti-racist? In Werbner, P. and Modood, T. (eds.) Debating Cultural Hybridity: Multi-Cultural Identities and the Politics of Anti- racism. London, Zed Books, 139-153. Wievorka, M. 1998. Is multiculturalism the solution? Ethnic and Racial Studies 21(5), 881-910. Williams, R. 1985. Keywords: A Vocabulary of Culture and Society (Revised edition). New York, Oxford University Press, 153-157. Wilson, R. 2003. Northern Ireland: What’s Going Wrong? London, Constitutional Unit. Wilson, T. 1989. Ulster: Conflict and Consent. Oxford, Blackwell. Wodak, R. and Reisigl, M. 1999. Discourse and racism: European perspectives. Annual Review of Anthropology 28, 175-199. Wolff, S. 2003. Introduction: From Sunningdale to Belfast, 1973-98. In Neuheiser, J. and Wolff, S. (eds.) Peace at Last? The Impact of the Good Friday Agreement on Northern Ireland. Oxford, Berghahn Books, 1-25. Wood, P.K. and Gilbert, L. 2005. Multiculturalism in Canada: Accidental discourse, alternative vision, urban practice. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 29(3), 679-691. Worley, C. 2005. ‘It’s not about race, it’s about community’: New Labour and ‘community cohesion’. Critical Social Policy 25(4), 483-496. 301 Wright, R., Houston, S., Ellis, M., Holloway, S. and Hudson, M. 2003. Cross racial lines: Geographies of mixed-race partnering and multiculturalism in the United States. Progress in Human Geography 27(4), 457-474. Zizek, S. 1989. The Sublime Object of Ideology. London, Verso. 302