Belfast community ignores politicians' squabbles

BELFAST, Sep 28: On a bustling south Belfast street, community workers Harry Smith and Stiofan Long are doing something Northern Ireland's politicians refuse to do even behind closed doors. They are talking.

Their ties to political parties at opposite sides of the province's sectarian divide mean the two may never agree on the big questions of religion and politics, but they have set aside historical differences to tackle more pressing local issues.

''Six years ago there would have been bombings, there were people being put out of their homes,'' Long, a member of the Irish Republican Army's political ally Sinn Fein, said of the Finaghy area of Belfast.

''There were gangs of 50 or 60 people engaging in sectarian attacks.'' As he spoke two policemen, who not so long ago would have patrolled in bullet-proof vests and an armour-plated Land Rover, rode off on mountain bikes.

Fearing a full-blown conflict between neighbouring Catholics and Protestants, Long approached Smith, a former member of the political wing of the Ulster Defence Association paramilitary group, which opposes the IRA's aim of ending British rule.

They now co-chair a community group in the area.

''It was just a phone call six years ago,'' said Long. ''There had been a series of attacks, a few families who had bombs thrown at their houses, and I think that's what spurred us on.'' Continuing tension, despite ceasefires and the 1998 Good Friday peace accord, meant early meetings took place in secret and it was 2005 before they went public with their alliance.

''At that time it would have been very risky for both Harry and myself because there was very little support in the community...Now people from throughout Belfast and beyond are getting in contact because they're keen to see what's going on.''

BEYOND THE BARRIERS OF HISTORY

For mothers such as 45-year-old town planner Helen Fitzsimons, the changes brought about by the group are clear.

''From my kids' point of view, it's much safer for them to come to the shops and in the evening they can be out playing.'' British Union Jack flags still flutter overhead in an area where, like Northern Ireland as a whole, Protestant Unionists form the majority.

Elsewhere, both sides still mark territory with everything from painted kerbstones to murals of masked gunmen.

''Four years ago every lamppost down here would have been hammered in flags,'' says Smith. ''There would have been three or four to a lamppost with paramilitary ones as well.'' Long wants all the flags, which he sees as a provocative reminder of Britain's foothold in Ireland, to come down but is ready to be patient.

Instead he points to initiatives aimed at maintaining the peace, such as reminding shopkeepers to avoid the sale of alcohol to minors. ''We established from talking to youth groups that easy access to alcohol was one of the biggest problems.''

Cross-community cooperation is increasingly common throughout the province, despite a political impasse that has blocked a power-sharing deal. Protestant organisers of Orange Order parades -- long an annual flashpoint of sectarian tensions -- were praised by the Catholic Archbishop of Armagh for going ''beyond the barriers of history'' by meeting him for the first time in June.

In July, Sinn Fein said it had liaised with police ahead of the marches. The parades, which mark the centuries-old victory of the Protestant army of William of Orange over England's deposed Catholic King James II, were the quietest in more than 30 years.

Such initiatives contrast starkly with what is happening at the national political level.

The province's politicians have failed repeatedly to set aside differences to agree on how Northern Ireland should be governed and an attempt by London and Dublin to restore regional government by November 24 looks set to fail.

British Prime Minister Tony Blair and Ireland's Bertie Ahern will meet the parties in Scotland from Oct. 11-13 to try to break the impasse.

''The answer isn't to wait for the politicians, it's for the communities to get out there and sort things out and they'll leave the politicians behind,'' said Smith.

CIVIC LEADERS OR GATE KEEPERS?

Not everybody sees community groups as positive, however.

The involvement of former paramilitaries generates deep unease among those who see them as throw-backs to the days when guerrilla groups ''policed'' their own districts.

''This pseudo demonstration of responsibility by these thugs gives me the shivers,'' wrote one blogger on the award-winning Slugger O'Toole current affairs Web site.

''The wolves may dress in sheep's clothing but they're still wolves,'' wrote another after the June launch of Smith and Long's Finaghy Crossroads Group by Irish President Mary McAleese, who has also faced criticism over meetings with former gunmen.

Duncan Morrow, head of the province's EU-funded Community Relations Council, says some groups have yet to prove they are exercising ''civic leadership and not just a new version of gate keeping'' but says the Finaghy group has sound foundations.

''This is not a fly-by-night organisation. It has taken years of hard work to evolve and they have built it around community activity born out of real concerns about the problems.'' For such groups to succeed membership must be broad-based and the involvement of former paramilitaries is crucial so long as it does not become paramilitary control, he said.

''The fear is that instead of them becoming civilianised, they remain in some kind of shadow form within the organisations, but in a sense we won't know the outcome until we've tried it.''

REUTERS