Hoping that symbols of bigotry and division will wither and die

By Derek Lord

Published:

THE unfortunate supermarket employee who engaged the services of the Bellshill Imperial Flute Band to open the new Tesco outlet in the North Lanarkshire town got an instant lesson in the tribal divisions that plague the south-west of Scotland.

It’s a fair bet that he or she isn’t from that neck of the woods. I hope the bosses see the funny side of their employee’s gaffe or that employee could be stacking trolleys for the foreseeable future.

Thankfully, someone in the supermarket’s management team had the wit to send the band packing, dressed as they were in blue shirts with red hands sewn into the sleeves, before any of the shoppers of a different persuasion took matters into their own hands.

One of the most depressing facts to emerge from this otherwise comical tale is that the band in question was only formed in 1997. So it would seem that sectarianism in that part of Scotland, at least, is still alive and well.

As an Irishman from the Six Counties, I have long nursed the hope that these symbols of bigotry and division would wither and die as fresh generations of Scots put their past behind them, but it seems that it is a forlorn hope.

I was certainly given cause to ponder the influence of the northern Irish diaspora on the mores of Glasgow earlier this week.

As luck would have it, I found myself having to leave my rural idyll last Monday morning and make my way to Bridgeton. The rehearsal rooms for the panto I am engaged in are just a stone’s throw from Bridgeton Cross, a desperately run-down area a short distance from Glasgow’s city centre.

On leaving the Bridgeton train station, the first thing I noticed was the sight of two Red Hand of Ulster flags flying above the door of a most unattractive public house. Sandwiched between the two Irish flags was a union flag that had seen better days.

A few doors along, another pub was flying the flag of the Glasgow Rangers football team. The wall was adorned with some union flag bunting that looked as if it had been there since the coronation of George III. The pub also sported the Saltire, but I felt it was there because their footballers had made it part of their strip.

It certainly wasn’t there as a symbol of Scottish independence. In this community, the notion of breaking our ties with Westminster is anathema. While some of these British patriots came to this country to escape the recent unrest in the troubled province across the Irish Sea, many of the denizens can trace their ancestry back to the Great Famine when the potato blight failed to discriminate between poor Catholics and poor Protestants.

Members of both tribes had to pack their bags and head for somewhere that would provide them with a living and Scotland was the handiest option. Unfortunately for Scotland, they brought their tribal hatred with them.

Neither side seems to have been very adventurous. They didn’t travel very far when they got off the boat. Instead, most of them, from both sides of the sectarian divide, seem to have ended up within the same few square miles of Glasgow. But then, if they came from Belfast, this would have made them feel at home. Certainly in west Belfast you’re never too far from the enemy’s territory, which makes it very convenient when you feel like knocking lumps out of the other mob.

A fellow cast member who grew up in the Bridgeton area informed me that this tradition was revived by a gang calling themselves the Brigtonderry, inspired presumably by the northern Irish city of Londonderry. They figured that if the English could tag London on to Derry, they could do the same with their new town’s name.

Their Catholic neighbours obliged them by establishing a gang by the name of the Calton Tongs and many battles ensued. Ah sure, what else would you do on a Friday night in a dump like the one they found themselves living in?

Seemingly it’s not quite as violent these days. The concentration of these warring factions is not what it was. Many of the descendants of the original settlers have drifted away to other areas. It looks like Bellshill was high on the wish list of the Orange faction.

None of this bodes well for the aspirations of the SNP. While native Scots might be tempted to break away from Westminster rule, these descendants of Ulster Scots, as the settlers across the Irish Sea prefer to be known, will have no truck with a party that wants to break up their beloved Union.

They have red, white and blue in their DNA.

But not all Ulster Protestants who have come to Scotland in recent years have this slavish devotion to the union flag. In fact, I was informed by an SNP activist that many of the more affluent ones have joined the nationalist party almost before they have unpacked their bags. To them, Scotland is their Motherland and while it may have suited them to vote for a unionist party across the water when they relied on British troops to keep the Fenian hordes at bay, now that they are back in their spiritual home they want a Scotland free of the sort of interference that saw their ancestors forced off their lands to make way for sheep.

Unfortunately for the SNP, the less-affluent Ulster Scots who have made their way back across the water tend to rely rather heavily on state handouts, as, indeed, do their Catholic counterparts.

This might explain why the majority of the poorer Catholics also seem to favour the Labour Party, as appears to have been the case in the recent Glasgow North East by-election.

In areas of social deprivation, the fear of benefit cuts is foremost in people’s minds, regardless of any other affiliations they might have.

In the final analysis, regardless of tribal history, as Bill Clinton said: “It’s the economy, stupid.”