Haynes column: 'Belfast,' 'Derry Girls' illustrate times of Troubles in Northern Ireland

Since the Reformation, most of the countries of Europe have been split at one time or another between Catholic and Protestant. Martin Luther kicked off the divide when he posted his 95 complaints about the Roman Catholic Church in 1517 in Germany, and people for centuries after were jailed, exiled, burned or beheaded – by both sides – for not having the correct beliefs.

One of the modern periods of conflict that continued the discord was the Troubles, about 30 years of violence from the 1960s to 1998 that brought fear and uncertainty to the people of Northern Ireland.

The Troubles weren’t entirely a Catholic-Protestant thing; the causes of the strife also included longstanding political and cultural tensions between the Irish and the English.

But to grasp the effect of the Troubles on the men, women, boys and girls of Northern Ireland, two recent bits of pop culture have enlightened me and my usual movie and TV partner, my wife, Kathy.

The birth of friction between Northern Ireland and England followed the invasion of England by the Normans and William the Conqueror in 1066. About a century later, the British found their way to Northern Ireland with settlers establishing themselves there and making that corner of the Emerald Isle much more English than the rest of Ireland.

Fast-forward to the 1960s, and the native Irish there, mostly Catholic, were pushing back against those who had become Protestant and against the British soldiers who patrolled the streets to keep order. The British ruled Northern Ireland, but some supporters of independence became violent. Bombings were done by both sides in the largest city, Belfast, and in Londonderry, or Derry.

In 1972, British soldiers shot at Catholic protesters, killing 14, in an incident that became known as Bloody Sunday. In 1979, Queen Elizabeth II’s cousin, Lord Mountbatten, was killed along with three others in a bombing of his small boat.

The Troubles continued with about 3,600 people killed until 1998, when politicians finally brokered the Good Friday Agreement that ended hostilities.

That’s a too-brief historical outline of the Troubles. But to understand the culture of the time, the attitudes of ordinary people and how the uneasiness seeped into daily life, literature can assist us. And sometimes movies rise to the level of great literature.

Kenneth Branagh’s 2021 film, “Belfast,” fits that category. The young boy Buddy, based on Branagh’s 1960s childhood in the city, sees violence in his own neighborhood, his dad being intimidated by young activists, barricades in the streets and a store being ransacked. His mother and dad, tied to Belfast by a long family history, talk about leaving for a safer life in England. They attempt a normal life, taking the whole family, grandparents included, to see the 1968 movie, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.”

Buddy becomes infatuated with Catherine, a pretty girl at school, but he doesn’t know what to think when he finds out her family is Catholic. His is Protestant. Buddy’s dad eventually tells him that if she’s a good person, whether Catholic or some other religion, she’s welcome in their house.

Trying to make sense of the violence, Buddy asks, “Was that our side that done all that to them Catholic houses in our street, Daddy?” Also trying to make sense of it, his dad replies, “There is no our side and their side in our street. Or there didn’t used to be, anyway.”

Kathy and I both put “Belfast” on our lists of all-time favorite movies.

And you also can get some perspective on Northern Ireland from a sitcom. “Derry Girls” on Netflix has finished three seasons about four schoolgirls and a guy who live through the 1990s period leading up to the Good Friday Agreement. Because of some pretty raunchy language – Irish versions of teenage cussing – we can’t recommend it for everybody. But even in silly comedy episodes, the attitudes of Derry kids, parents and neighbors about the Troubles come through.

The one male member of the group, James, is English, and he comes in for verbal abuse about his accent and for being, well, English. He’s loyal to his friends, though, and dresses as an angel as the girls do for Halloween – although everyone else thinks they’re swans.

British soldiers with machine guns patrol the streets as the Derry girls take abuse from the local shopkeeper who yells at them for complaining that the American flag he is selling is faded and has the wrong number of stars. The sequence is in an episode about the visit of U.S. President Bill Clinton in 1995, which figured into the eventual end of the Troubles.

“Derry Girls” is hilarious and also gives insight into history that most Americans know little about.

Northern Ireland in 2022 is experiencing political controversy about trade at the borders that observers hope won’t inflame old wounds from the Troubles that were thought to be healed. Working people and families certainly don’t want to return to the days that Irish band U2 sang about in 1983’s “Bloody Sunday”:

“Broken bottles under children’s feet, Bodies strewn across the dead-end street.”

Bono and other U2 members hoped that the good news of the God who both Catholics and Protestants worship would prevail forever:

“The real battle just begun (Sunday, Bloody Sunday), To claim the victory Jesus won (Sunday, Bloody Sunday).”

Mike Haynes taught journalism at Amarillo College from 1991 to 2016 and has written for the Faith section since 1997. He can be reached at haynescolumn@gmail.com. Go to www.haynescolumn.blogspot.com for other recent columns.

This article originally appeared on Amarillo Globe-News: Haynes column: 'Belfast,' 'Derry Girls' illustrate Troubles in Ireland