Holy Cross Girls’ Primary School, September 2001

Observations by Carol K. Russell,
Lawyers Alliance for Justice in Ireland


Ardoyne, North Belfast

In a picturesque valley between Crumlin and Oldpark Roads, lies the densely settled triangle of land called Ardoyne, North Belfast.  At its southern edge is a large linen-weaving mill dating back to 1810.  In this mill, several generations of Ardoyne women have stood ankle deepin water for ten-hours a day spinning wet linen threads.  Other Ardoyne women guided the shuttles of clanking industrial looms back and forth between the fine linen threads.  It was the skilled fingers of North Belfast women that handcrafted the world-renowned Irish linen cloth.  Today the mill houses a range of community activities instead of looms but Ardoyne is still a neighborhood of hard working Irish families.

Demographically, Ardoyne is nationalist, mostly republican, overwhelmingly Catholic.  In the most recent election, Sinn Fein received more than 70% of the votes.  During the thirty-odd years of the Troublesin Northern Ireland, more than one-third of those killed in the armed struggle were residents of this area of Belfast. Here today live the families of those victims.  Here today live surviving republican heroes of the 1981 blanket protests and hunger strikes in the H-Blocks of Long Kesh Prison.  Here also lives a new generation of families whose children were born into the relative peace of cease-fires, obeyed until recently by both loyalist and republican paramilitaries.  

Here and there at the edges of Ardoyne live Protestants with unionist or loyalist points of view.  Intermittent brick walls separate the two communities but often there are no well-defined peace lines between Catholic and Protestant housing estates.  With or without peace lines, areas where Catholics and Protestants live in close proximity are called interfaces or flashpoints, meaning areas of potential conflict in Northern Ireland’s deeply divided society.  

Protestant/unionist/loyalist areas are clearly marked with red, white and blue curbstones.  Union Jacks and flags representing various loyalist paramilitary organizations fly in profusion from every light post.  Gabled ends of estates are decorated with menacing murals depicting loyalist heroes, their weapons and their victories over Catholics.  Catholic/nationalist/republican neighborhoods are usually denoted by Irish tricolors.  There are fewr eferences to the IRA.   Murals here would likely portray scenes from Irish history or symbols of Irish culture.  I was to learn that Catholic neighborhoods welcomed mixed marriages and the children born of such unions.  In Protestant neighborhoods  “half-breeds” are shunned or worse.

Holy Cross Girls’ Primary School

In the mid 1800s, Belfast’s population exploded as thousands poured into the city to escape the hunger of rural Ireland.  The Catholic Church bought land in the countryside areas of Ardoyne to accommodate the inevitable growth of Holy Cross Parish.  Over time, several schools were built there including Holy Cross Girls’ Primary School.  A hostile sectarian struggle for housing in North Belfast during the 1970s brought a series of demographic shifts to the area and eventually an influx of Protestants who took control of the Glenbryn neighborhood situated near this small school.  Irish President Mary McAleese, a young girl during this era, lived near a flashpoint in Ardoyne until her family was forced out of their home by loyalist attackers emptying their machine guns through the windows.  President McAleese, interviewed on 11/11/01 on Ulster TV, says of Ardoyne, “This has always been a place where territory has been marked in ways that are so inhumanely indecent and so awful.  Much of the sectarian tensions that exist here are exactly as it was when I lived there.”

Even though most Catholics had been likewise expelled from their homes in Glenbryn, Holy Cross pupils and their parents walked for years in relative peace along the sidewalks of the Protestant enclave.  In fact, many of the mothers escorting their daughters to school under protest in 2001 had safely taken the same route to school when they were children.  Not until June of 2001, when Glenbryn residents decided to block all Catholic passage along Ardoyne Road, was there any reason for the Holy Cross pupils to fear their daily walk to school.

Since 1969, Holy Cross School has occupied a tiny slip of land carved almost as an afterthought out of a hillside behind the sprawling campus of St. Gabriel’s Boys’ College facing Crumlin Road.  Holy Cross School faces Ardoyne Road and the Glenbryn housing estates.  It also faces Wheatfield School, an elementary school attended by Protestant children livingin the Glenbryn estates.  Until the fall of 2001, pupils at Holy Cross often joined those at Wheatfield for special classes.  I was shown drawings done by girls in one of these combined classes. Both Catholic and Protestant children drew happy, colorful pictures of the baby chickens brought to class by a guest teacher.  One Holy Cross seven-year-old admitted she missed a particular friend from Wheatfield School.

There are about 220 girls enrolled at Holy Cross School ranging in age from four to eleven. Academically the school is highly regarded.  Even while functioning under siege, the teachers with whom I met maintained both a positive attitude and the discipline necessary to get in a bit of learning.  In spite of the daily harassment through which they must walk, the older girls prepared for their eleven-plus exams in November 2001. These much-feared exams determine which secondary school a girl will attend.  All Holy Cross girls wear the requisite navy blue skirts and red sweaters (called jumpers in Belfast).  As with their American counterparts they express feminine individuality with fancy braids and hair ornaments.  

With great pride, four-year-old Rachel took me on a tour of her school.  I admired her clay project, met her compassionate kindergarten teacher and trekked upstairs to her older sister’s classroom.  From a second-story window, however, I was distracted by some disturbing graffiti painted on the exterior of the school.  Clearly visible were the letters KAT and UVF, meaning “Kill all Taigs” and the paramilitary organization “Ulster Volunteer Force.”  To better photograph these caveats, we walked outside where I was shocked to find many menacing messages painted on the school’s exterior walls.  KAT was repeated several times along with the identifying initials of loyalist paramilitaries.  Several given names, neatly lined up, were painted on the macadam pavement.  Were these the artists’ signatures—or their intended targets?  I recalled an incident in New Jersey where the desecration with spray-painted swastikas of a Jewish temple brought forth condemnations from both the authorities and the wider community for such abhorrent “hate crimes.”  Yet, in my ancestral homeland it seems accepted practice to express publicly one’s intention to kill all Catholics.  

Continuing my walk around the school, I discovered a badly blackened wall and roof adjacent to a playground filled with little girls at recess.  Apparently, there had been a largefire there at one time.  Rachel’s mother dismissed the evidence as a juvenile pyromaniacal threat and assured me that if loyalists had wanted to burn down the school, they would have done a more thorough job.  Evidently though, all the Queen’s horses and men standing guard along the road in front of the school were not able to prevent loyalists from gaining direct access to the building.  As Rachel ran her little fingers along the graffiti, it became clear that she herself might be too easily accessible to whoever painted the malevolent “KAT.”




Loyalism in North Belfast

 

Adjacent to the southern edge of Ardoyne is the Shankill neighborhood, named after a main thoroughfare bisecting the grim, working-class community comprised almost exclusively of Protestant loyalists.  During the summer of 2000, a bitter feud broke out between two pro-British paramilitary organizations, the Ulster Defence Association (UDA) and the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) which has ties to the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP).

During this feud, senior UDA leader Johnny Adair, released from prison under the Good Friday Agreement (GFA), was rearrested for engaging in violence and thereby breaking the terms of his parole.  Adair’s high-profile participation had further inflamed the volatile feud. More about turf wars and drug dealing franchises than political ideology, the civil unrest of this era left more than 800 men, women and children homeless.  The stories of this feud have become legendary.  We heard of an elderly woman having been put out of her home by her own grandchildren.

Many of these loyalist Protestants, perhaps those most militant in their views, were resettled into the Glenbryn housing estates along Ardoyne Road.  Over time, the neighborhood was redecorated with red, white and blue curbstones, Union Jacks and loyalist paramilitary flags.  Much of this was done just ahead of the summer 2001 parade season.  

In June, a loyalist youth installing flags on a light postwas threatened by an angry Catholic man passing by in a car.  Loyalists claimed that the driver of the carrammed the ladder knocking the youth to the ground.  This may have been the trigger that caused the road to be blocked days later by scores of loyalists as Holy Cross pupils walked to school.  

When Catholic parents insisted that their children’s walkway to school be opened, the RUC, attired in full riot gear, stood between the families and the demonstrators.  Angry loyalists turned against the RUC when it seemed as though protection and advocacy were becoming weighted too heavily in favor of the nationalists.  British soldiers were called in to back up the RUC in this operation.   

Important to note about this first blockade was that the RUC and military faced, for the most part, the young girls and their parents.  In their riot mode, Northern Ireland’s security forces face whichever direction they expect trouble to come from.  It has not gone unnoticed by this and other observers that they nearly always face the Catholics.  Confronted by a solid black line of RUC with helmets, masked faces, batons and riot shields, the pupils of Holy Cross School were effectively denied their rightful access to education by the very civil authority paid to protect all citizens of Northern Ireland.   More effectively, the demonstrating loyalists had their blockade of Ardoyne Road reinforced by that same authority.  

Arguing that it would be impossible to guarantee their safety, the RUC turned the children and their parents away from the Ardoyne Road entrance to their school.  One officer justified his inability to facilitate the Catholics’ safe passage to school by insisting that in reinforcing the loyalists’ blockade they were keeping violence to a minimum.  

At one point the demonstrators said they would allow the girls to walk only on the left side of Ardoyne Road and only with women accompanying them—no nationalist men. These edicts defied logic because Protestant homes line both sides of Ardoyne Road and many Catholic men accompany their daughters to school if mothers are at work, busy with other children or perhaps ill.  

Moreover, given the menacing nature of the demonstration it would seem wise that masculine hands be there to hold those of all the women walking to Holy Cross School.  In the face of increasing perils to the Holy Cross pupils, PUP Councillor Billy Hutchinson and Gerry Kelly of Sinn Fein tried and failed to resolve the standoff.   

Newspapers worldwide carried photographs of little girls in red sweaters denied access to their school. Comparisons were made with the situation in the southern states in America during the 1960s when African-American children were vilified for exercising their civil right to attend school in their own neighborhood.  

In response to the blockade, RUC officers escorted the girlsto school along a circuitous route back down Ardoyne Road, up Crumlin Road, through the grounds and playing fields of St. Gabriel’s Boys’ College and into the back entrance of Holy Cross School. The issue had not been resolved by the end of the 2000-01 schoolyear.  Regrettably, many girls, frightenedby the demonstration, stayed home and missed important end-of-term schooldays.  

Evenings brought more violence and rioting in the North Belfast communities.  Cars were hijacked and set alight.  Scores of police were injured by blast, petrol and acid bombs.  Police retaliated by firing plastic bullets.  A senior RUC officer warned the two communities that they must now either, “ . . . live together or die together.”

Parade Season in Northern Ireland

For several summers, the Drumcree Parish Church in Portadown has been the primary battlefield upon which the Protestants of the Orange Order defended their right to march through captive Catholic neighborhoods.  As well, North Belfast has endured its share of seemingly intractable parading disputes beginning every June and continuing for several weeks thereafter.  

Formed in 1997, the Parades Commission for Northern Ireland has attempted to address and negotiate issues regarding certain parades, especially those that could lead to violent confrontations or undue restriction in Catholic neighborhoods.  The rights of loyal order lodges to exercise their cultural traditions have been weighed by the Parades Commission against the rights of nationalist residents to live free of the contentions and civil disorder often accompanying these marches.  

Clearly, loyal order parades celebrate Protestant military victories over Catholics; they reinforce Protestant unionism in a society deeply divided over political views about its increasingly tenuous alliance with Britain.  One must ask why then, if such parades are a ritualization of a specific faction of Northern Ireland’s culture, must they be forced through neighborhoods with differing, yet still widely upheld points of view?  

During the summer of 2001, I and other international observers witnessed many such parades in Portadown, West Belfast and Ardoyne.  Most passed off without incident, even the dreaded Drumcree parade which was restrained by a steel barricade from proceeding along Garvaghy Road in Portadown.  The wisdom of the Parades Commission spared this mostly Catholic community from the hideous violence that has for too many summers invaded its streets on the heels of Orangemen in bowler hats and white gloves.  Ardoyne, however, became the scene of the worst rioting in more than twenty years in Northern Ireland.   

On 12 July at 8:30 p.m., when the Ballysillan LOL No. 1891 marched through Ardoyne, the community already had been hemmed in for hours by a massive security operation.  Hundreds of RUC and British soldiers equipped with full riot gear, scores of armored vehicles, Alsatian dogs, water cannons, guns loaded with live ammunition or plastic baton rounds were sent to facilitate a twelve minute parade of inebriated bigots through a Catholic community that could not even safely shepherd its youngest female children to school.  My first-hand account of the Ardoyne riot of 12 July 2001 may be found elsewhere in the Lawyers Alliance report on Summer 2001 in Northern Ireland.  

Sectarian Attacks in North Belfast

Along with the usual Protestant parades, Summer 2001 brought wave upon wave of sectarian attacks on Catholic homes in North Belfast.  Another observer and I remained on-call in Ardoyne during the latter half of July to document examples of this violence.  On Alliance Avenue, a young family with four children, including two girls enrolled at Holy Cross School, had their home repeatedly bombed by loyalists.  A vulnerable kitchen window, through which the bombs had been hurled, faced a low wall separating their back yard from the back yards of Protestants living along Glenbryn Park.  

The pretty mother appeared very thin from the daily stress of her daughters’ being threatened on their way to school, her home being attacked and her own mother’s battle with cancer.  Still, she found time to share with us a plea for prayers written by her son Marc.  From his neatly printed letter I quote:

“My name is Marc I am seven years old I have got one brother and two sisters. My sisters are called Danielle and Rachel and my brother is called Kieran and say a happy birthday to Kieran 12th of August.  We live in Alliance Ave. and we are getting pipe bombed and petrol bombed and shooting say a prayer.  Thank you.”

A few doors farther down on Alliance Ave., we photographed the backyard of a frightened pensioner whose home had been stoned, not for the first time.  The yard reeked of the unmistakable odor of petrol.  That fact alone would logically have called for a thorough investigation.  As the pensioner sat trembling in her livingroom, we hovered around and waited for the RUC to respond to her call for help.  

After nearly 30 minutes, a neighbor called again.  The dispatcher insisted that officers had responded to the first call but had seen nobody around the house.  This seemed odd because we had arrived immediately on the scene and had spent much time in the backyard taking photographs.   From the living room where the lady was sitting it would have been impossible not to have seen the RUC pull up in front and walk to the back of the house.  There was no comforting the lady.  She was certain whoever had stoned her would be back to do worse.  As with the young couple, she had little faith in the RUC’s willingness to protect her.  

Looking eastward, we could not help but notice the RUC barracks situated strategically on a hilltop near Oldpark Rd.  The considerable surveillance towers around the barracks loomed like giant sentinels over Alliance Ave. and indeed over the entire Ardoyne valley.  Since so much serious physical and psychological harm is done in Northern Ireland’s residential communities would there not be some way this surveillance equipment could be used to find out who has committed such attacks on innocents?

One warm evening in July we photographed a mess on a mostly nationalist street in Duncairn Gardens. Several lovely brick homes had been paint bombed red, white and blue by loyalist thugs who gained access to the street through a steel gate in a nearby peace line.   The gate was supposed to have been locked by the RUC every day at 4:30 P.M.  A few of the explosions of paint had been aimed to smash through lace-curtained bay windows.  

The residents, many of whom were pensioners, were frightened and understandably angry that their neighborhood had been violated, especially since measures had been taken to prevent this. One gentleman showed me a log he had been keeping of the exact times during the past weeks that the gate in question had been closed to intruders—especially those with a particular fancy for the colors red, white and blue.  The gate had never been secured at the time promised by the RUC but in fact from ½ hour to 2 ½ hours later.  

During these lapses of security, attacks on nationalist homes and residents had been occurring nearly every day.  On this particular day, the attacks were followed by intense rioting.  Rocks, bottles and petrol bombs were hurled over the now-closed gate by youthful sectarians.  One teenager from the loyalist side repeatedly pelted the RUC, his nationalist neighbors and us with stinging stones catapulted with impressive accuracy from a rooftop fortress.  Several people were injuredby this kid, including an elderly man cut severely on his tender head.  

Wading through broken glass, slippery puddles of paint and petrol, we photographed the riot, the youth with the catapult and the badly damaged homes.  We were glad to see SDLPand Sinn Fein Councillors arrive on the scene to support their traumatized constituents.  In Northern Ireland sectarian attacks unfortunately occur in both communities.  However, recent statistics compiled by thePat Finucane Centre indicate that the overwhelming majority of such attacks are carried out against nationalists.


September 2001, The Beginning of a New School Year

At the request of community leaders, I arrived in Ardoyneat Holy Cross School in early September.  I was told that from the first day of school, crowds of loyalists positioned themselves along Ardoyne Road holding placards advising their Catholic neighbors to take the alternative route to school.  The demonstrators shouted at them, “whores,”“sluts,” “Fenian Bs,” “Who let the Taigs out?” and other even more unspeakable insults.  

Missiles, including rocks, bottles and paving stones were hurled at the Catholic families as they walked to school with poise and dignity.  There were casualties, though.  I spoke with two grandmothers who had been hit with chunks of paving stones while holding their granddaughters’ hands.  In both cases,the injuries were sufficiently deep as to require several stitches each in the ladies’ heads.  A mother was scalded with hot tea thrown at her by a loyalist. She was later arrested by the RUC and charged with assault for defending herself with her brolly.

On the third day of school, a blast bomb was thrown by a loyalist youth into the path of the girls.  Four RUC officers were injured by the explosion.  A police dog went down as well.  No children were physically harmed but that was not yet known to the panicked Catholics running from the total chaos on Ardoyne Road toward the safety of the school gates.  Nobody knew what was happening or if they were still in danger.  One small child fell down and tried to crawl under a land rover.  News reports indicated that the bomb had been intended for the RUC as they defended the Catholics from a hail of rocks.  Parents on the scene, however, disputed that theory and concluded that if the RUC had been the target of the bomb, it could more easily have been aimed at them when children were not in the road.  The bomb was tossed quite accurately from only a short distance directly into the path of the little girls.  

Another clue came from Mandy, a thirteen-year-old Glenbryn resident who, when asked about the terrible bombing of her neighbors, replied, “Them Fenian Bs should’ve all had their legs blownoff!  Then they wouldn’t be walking up this road!”

Shortly after the explosion, the loyalist Red Hand Defenders, a cover name used by the UDA, claimed responsibility for this atrocious bombing of innocent Catholic girls.   On that day, PUP Councillor Billy Hutchinson stated for the press, “I am totally ashamed to call myself a loyalist.”  Hutchinson would later recant this statement.  
  
Documentation of the Demonstrations

For the first ten days of September, Ardoyne Road was a media circus.  Newspapers worldwide scrambled to get shots of frightened little girls as they ran the daily gauntlet of sectarian hatred.  Interestingly, very few photos of the demonstrators appeared in print.

I was to learn why upon arriving on Ardoyne Road with my camera.  Perhaps because their actions are regarded as heinous and completely unacceptable to the world outside the Glenbryn community, the demonstrators did not like being immortalized in photographs. In this regard, the RUC supported their wishes even to restraining the international media.  Another observer was warned by a BBC photographer, “Don’t point the camera at them [the demonstrators], they don’t like it.  We did it last week and it nearly caused a riot.”  

The first few days, as I walked to school with the children and their parents, I carried my camera openly and took quite a few excellent photos by scampering along with the media.  It was even possible to capture a few vignettes of the brutish Glenbryn community until the RUC noticed and put one of its finest on me.  Unceasingly, a tall officer dogged me so closely that I could feel his shield on my back.  If  I stopped for a second to snap a photo, he pushed me with a huge leather-gloved hand and said, “Movealong.”  If I tried to sneak in a quick shot of the demonstrators, he would nudge me and spoil the photo.

After 11September, the media disappeared.  I became too visible with my camera and the loyalists resented my involvement.  A beefy loyalist ordered my removal by yelling to the RUC, “Get that woman with the camera out of here!”  The RUC upheld his petition and thereafter, it seemed in the childrens’ best interests if I kept a lower profile.  

For many reasons, it was crucial that the Catholic families document what was happening to them.  The Holy Cross School situation is unprecedented in Irish history in that childrens’ human rights have been spotlighted there as never before.

The events unfolding at the little Catholic primary school in a forgotten corner of an old mill town shocked even those of us well experienced with Northern Ireland’s violent social clashes.  At the very least, the childrens’ plight deserved substantiation on film.  As cameras cannot lie, one cannot help but question the demonstrators’ fear of the truths told in pictures taken from the perspective of the Holy Cross pupils.  Yet they themselves clicked away freely with video and still cameras.  In fact, there were video cameras installed in some Glenbryn residents’ second-story windows, an excellent vantage point for filming little Catholic faces in the Protestant-controlled street.  

At one point, Polaroid photos were being taken of the Catholics and handed off to a well-recognized reporter from the Shankhill Mirror.  When this was pointed out to the RUC, no action was taken.  As well, RUC TV filmed the scene every day with their vehicle-mounted cameras pointed at most times toward the Catholics.  Important to note hereis that any footage from RUC video cameras is for official use only.  Parents of the Holy Cross pupils were forbidden to carry cameras as they walked with their children.  One community worker, not a parent and therefore not permitted to accompany the children to school, attempted to film scenes from behind police barricades but when she aimed her camera in the direction of the demonstration, she was threatened with arrest by the RUC.  An observer from Pennsylvania had her camera lifted by the RUC her second day on the scene.  Effectively, all documentation of the situation from a neutral or nationalist perspective had been repressed by the RUC.  

Community Protection and Advocacy

Community leaders and elected officials were present on both sides from the first days of the demonstration.  Sinn Fein and SDLP representatives appeared nearly every day at the intersection where parents and children gathered for their walk to school.  The politicians’ presence, while quite important and comforting to the nationalist residents, was one of support and advice.  Understandably, politicians did not accompany the families on their walk to school.  Wisely, they avoided political implications of the demonstration.  On a regular basis they were briefed by parents and the RUC.   

A measure of physical and moral support for the parents was given by their community’s stewards who for a few days walked to school peacefully and unobtrusively with the tense parents and children. In fact, both communities work closely with their respective stewards during times ofconflict.  Stewards from opposing Northern Ireland factions have been known to cooperate on occasion to quell violence before it starts. At the Ardoyne school demonstration, however, it was decided by the loyalists and enforced by the RUC that only loyalist stewards would be allowed at the scene.  

Walking up Ardoyne Road at schooltime, I noticed amongst the demonstrators several loyalist stewards, most of whom were identifiable in luminescent yellow vests.  It must have been comforting to the Glenbryn women and children to be supported in their demonstrations by so many big strong gentlemen.  However, the Catholic women and girls were denied any additional masculine protection from their own community even as they walked terrified through solid walls of hostility.  Catholic fathers, for the moment still admitted through the police barricade with their wives and daughters, wondered if the loyalists would succeed in their repeated attempts to ban all nationalist men from Ardoyne Road.    

Groups of observers from West Belfast brought outside eyes to the increasingly perilous situation.  When I first arrived in Ardoyne there were several of these well-trained observers wearing dark blue vests.  They walked to school alongside the Catholics and took careful note of all that was going on.  They at first carried cameras but were stopped by the RUC.  Worse, the RUC, admittedly in response to the loyalists’ wishes, gradually reduced the number of West Belfast observers allowed to accompany the Catholics, then forbid them entirely.  

As an American observer, I was permitted to accompany the Catholics for several days until I was stopped on 17 September by Sgt. Kevin Barry Burns, RUC, OIC.  He took my personal details, refused to give me his, then explained to me that “these people,” pointing toward the loyalists, were concerned about people “marching up the road” who were not parents of children or members of the legitimate press corps. He went on to tell me that he himself was Catholic and his wife taught at a Catholic school.  

Nevertheless, the situation here could not be allowed to become like Drumcree where anybody who wanted to “march” can just join in.   “These people” wanted nobody in the road except children and their parents.  Sgt. Burns then went on to tell me that his job was to “get this march peacefully up the road.”  Interesting to note, he used the word march three times during the course of our conversation while a woman from North Belfast stood beside me in shock at his comparison of little children going innocently to school with the Orange Order’s march at Drumcree.

Policing a Demonstration

The four-block demonstration against the Holy Cross pupils originated at the southern end of Ardoyne Road where it intersects with Alliance Ave.  During the times children would not be walking to school, Ardoyne Road is open to vehicle and foot traffic but with heavy RUC and military presence in the area.  Ardoyne Road is barricaded with armored vehicles before and after school and during the time that the youngest girls are collected after their shortened school day.  There are two metal doors on this barricade both of which were opened during the first days of the demonstration allowing the Catholic parentsand children to pass through.  

This opening provided a space wide enough for several people to pass through at once.  The Catholic parents and children felt most secure if they could walk to school in a group while keeping the smallest children protected with adults on either side.  However, after several days it was decided by the loyalists and enforced by the RUC to open only one metal door of the barricade.  This smaller opening permitted the entrance of only a single child and parent to pass through at one time, thus giving the loyalists a better opportunity to see who was coming up the road and to photograph them more easily. It also served to elongate the group and to isolate certain parents and children making them feel more insecure and open to threats.  

Parish priest Father Aiden Troy and many of the parents tried to convince the RUC to open both metal doors for the safety and security of the children but it became a battle because the loyalists wanted it otherwise and, by this time, it had become obvious that the RUC frequently took direction from the demonstrators.  

Sgt. Burns said, as I have heard so many times in the past, “We are doing this to prevent further violence.” The issue was eventually resolved and both doors were opened.  Policing of the demonstration proved to be one of my more disturbing observations.  There seemed to be an enormous amount of personnel, vehicles, weapons and technology, yet the children themselves were widely open to an increasingly hideous repertoire of verbal, physical and emotional abuse from their loyalist neighbors.   

Often there was only a shoulder’s width between the loyalists and the Catholics. More than once I saw flag-waving groups of loyalists actually in the street just as the Catholic families passed through the barricade.  Moreover, demonstrators were able to get close enough to spit on the children and even wipe spit from their hands onto little cheeks passing by.  This close, agressive contact upset the girls and made them wonder what they had done to make their Protestant neighbors hate them so much.  

One Holy Cross pupil insisted that she did not hate the Protestants and did not understand why they hated her.  Land Rovers parked along the walkway were intended to separate the demonstrators from the children but I watched loyalists scoot on their bellies across the hoods of these vehicles to get close enough to touch the children. Words too disgusting for this American observer to repeat reached very young ears that should still be in a blissful state of innocence about such matters.  Deafening sounds from whistles and horns assaulted those same little ears and caused worry about the possibility of other sounds—perhaps those of gunfire or bombs—being masked bythe noise.  Firecrackers startled all passing by and made even the most experienced amongst us think of gunfire.   Posters bearing pornographic images that no child should be subjected to were held in front of young faces not able to view them with anything more than fear.    

It seemed the little Catholic girls were twice intimidated.  First by the loyalist demonstrators chanting “Scum, Scum, Scum” directly in their faces, then by the heavily armed and menacing-looking security forces which, by reputation, culture, actions and appearance were not exactly on their side.  Even on 1 November 2001, when the RUC became PSNI [Police Service of Northern Ireland], the mostly cosmetic “softening” of their image related them more to the demonstrating side of the Ardoyne community than to the side being demonstrated against.  Many Catholic parents were startled to see florescent yellow vests issued to the PSNI that were quite similar to those worn by loyalist demonstrators.  

A Partial List of Abuses of the Pupils of Holy Cross Girls’ Primary School

A blast bomb packed with shrapnel was hurled at the children.   On another school day, as the children walked by, a second blast bomb exploded in the garden of a Catholic home on Alliance Ave. injuring an occupant.   Demonstrators threw bottles, bricks, fireworks and balloons filled with urine or dog excrement at the children.  

When urine rained down over the Catholics walking to school, many parents assumed it was petrol and that they would all go up in flames.  One cannot imagine the fears these innocent people faced on a daily basis.  The children were spat upon and when demonstrators could get close enough, they would spit on their hands and wipe it on a child’s cheek.  Demonstrators blew whistles and horns and even sounded their car horns to make deafening noises as the children passed.  The verbal abuse was mostly unmentionable.  The girls were called every sectarian slur imaginable.  They were reminded daily that there were “ . . . four Fenian schools in our neighborhood.”  They were referred to as “Wee Whores.”  When it was feared by the demonstrators that this word might not be understood by the little girls, the graphic actions of whores were held up on placards for all to see.  Their attending priests were repeatedly insulted by being referred to as their probable “real fathers.”   

Demonstrators donned masks to further frighten the children.  Masks in the loyalist crowd included devils, the Queen, George Bush, Ian Paisley, and even loyalist killer Johnny Adair.  A young mother I interviewed described a loyalist woman who ran into the street and attacked her physically.  She is convinced that if the RUC had not pulled the woman off she would not be alive to tell me this story.  Other mothers told me of death threats they had received signed by loyalist paramilitary groups.

Demonstrators jeered and laughed at a child who tripped and fell while walking to school. One loyalist shouted, “You can’t even walk you stupid Fenian bastards.”  In response to the anniversary of the 1993 bombing of the Shankhill fish shop, the Red Hand Defenders threatened [through the media] to “take military action” against children and parents walking to Holy Cross School on 23 October.  

Many of the children have been identified by their physicians as in emotional distress and are taking medication to calm theirnerves.  Eleven children have been withdrawn from Holy Cross School. Glenbryn residents interviewed for news articles during the weeks of the demonstration stated repeatedly that their actions were not against the Catholic children.  I found this impossible to believe.  Every day I witnessed unconscionable abuses of little girls going to school.  For twelve weeks it was these little girls going to school who bore the brunt of a demonstration which was not by any means peaceful nor was it within the terms of international treaties intended to protect children of all races and religions from sectarian abuse and harassment.  

Abuses of the loyalists’ children

Much of the world outside Ardoyne is not aware that loyalist children participated fully in the demonstrations against the Catholic children.  It was quite disturbing to witness young children dressed neatly in school uniforms mimicking the actions of their parents waving flags, blowing horns, hurling missiles and yelling vile words of abuse at their Catholic neighbors.  These impressionable Protestant children also have been victimized.  

The Alternative  Route

The alternative route to Holy Cross School suggested by both the RUC and the Glenbryn residents has never been an acceptable option.  Walking down Ardoyne Road to Crumlin Road would add several miles each week to some very small legs; it involves passing the back edge of the same Protestant neighborhood in which many of the demonstrators live;  it requires a circuitous walk through the large active campus of a boys’college—not the best thing for self-conscious pre-adolescent girls; it requires the scaling of a steep hillside—not an attractive proposition for mothers pushing prams with younger siblings on the walk to school; it requires walking across an often muddy football pitch.  What if there is a game in progress? Most important, the alternative route would mean the girls’ accepting a lowered status in their own community.  One parent writes, “I don’t want to take my child through any back entrance.  What sort of message does that send her?  That she’s a second-class citizen and that just sows the seeds for future conflict.  We feel we’re treated as second class citizens in this area anyway.  I mean, what right has anyone to say: ‘You can’t bring your child this way to school.’”

On the afternoon of 24 October, loyalists blocked asection of Crumlin Road stopping traffic and entrapping children for hours in Mercy Primary School, Our Lady of Mercy Girls’ Secondary School and St. Gabriel’s Secondary School.  Apparently the alternative route could be blocked at the whim of the demonstrators affecting the other three “. . .Fenian schools in our neighborhood.”  

Ardoyne, North Belfast 11 September 2001

Prior to 11 September, Ardoyne, North Belfast was command central for a front page news story of international interest.  Media trucks and reporters took over Ardoyne Road and the lives of many of its residents.  We had become accustomed to reporters pushing each other out of the way to capture any scrap of breaking news about the ugly demonstration at Holy Cross School.  I was to learn that the media also afforded a perverse measure of protection for the Holy Cross pupils and their parents.  

When the media disappeared on 11 September to cover the attacks on New York and Washington, Catholic parents expressed great fear that now, without the eyes of the world keeping close watch, the loyalists might use even greater physical force to assert their demonstration along Ardoyne Road.   I found it interesting that Catholics in Ardoyne regarded unarmed photographers and reporters as greater protection and advocacy than the RUC and British Army.  One mother said to me that without the media, “ . . . they [the loyalists] can now do whatever they want to us.”

Near the close of the school day on 11 September, I was gently steered into a home on Ardoyne Road to be shown what I thought to be a bad horror film of first one then another airplane crashing into the twin towers of the World Trade Center.  This was the reason for the intersection of Ardoyne Road and Alliance Avenue suddenly becoming eerily empty and quiet.

For the rest of that day, parents attempted to interpret for their daughters the horrible images repeated endlessly on the television.  Unspoken by any of the adults was our cold, numbing apprehension of what might possibly happen next.   A cup of hot Irish tea was pressed into my shaking hands.  Telephones were offered that I might call my family.  Computers were offered that I might contact New York by E-mail.  At once, the little girls I had come to Belfast to support switched roles and responded to my anguish with remarkable compassion and many sweet hugs.  I was truly blessed to have been in Ardoyne, North Belfast during this unprecedented American tragedy.

On the morning of 12 September, the Catholic families gathered at the police barricade and prayed with me for the victims of the terrorist attacks in America.  We had all assumed that on this sorrowful day the loyalists would at the very least, suspend their demonstration if not cancel it out of respect for the many dead Americans.  Would this not have been the perfect opportunity for these badly-led bullies to walk with dignity out of the increasingly uncomfortable corner they had backed themselves into?  

On the contrary, the demonstrators were out in full force—this time noisily celebrating the deaths of my countrymen as I walked past.  There were shouts that now the United States would “ . . . take care of the IRA.”  Most difficult for me to hear were the expressions of glee over the “ . . . cremated Irish-American cops and firefighters who would not be sending any more money over here to yez Fenian Bs.”

Later that week, the demonstration at Holy Cross School was suspended briefly in coordination with a memorial service at Belfast City Hall.  I flew home in late September entrusted with candles, cards and messages of condolences from Catholic families in Ardoyne, North Belfast.  I carried these offerings and these powerful images of Ardoyne to a memorial in New York City befittingly enriched by the sounds of an Irish harpist.

The End of the Demonstration

On 23 November 2001, the demonstration against the pupils of Holy Cross Girls’ Primary School was suspended, not because it had been a reign of terror against innocent children nor because the international community criticized it as a blatant abuse of civil and human rights nor because it was vicious and ill-advised, but because the Glenbryn residents received at that time a promise from the government that certain amenities for their community would be funded.  

These amenities included: a roundabout at Holy Cross School making it possible for parents to drop off their children at the front door rather than at the Ardoyne Road gate near the Protestant Glenbryn neighborhood, speed bumps along ArdoyneRoad, CCTV along Ardoyne Road, regeneration of the Alliance Avenue intersection, upgrades of housing and recreational facilities, development of a community action project in north Belfast, a dedicated 24-hour community policing unit and the setting up of a Joint Community Forum for community dialogue.

Quotations on the Demonstrations at Holy Cross Girls’Primary School

Mary Banotti, Fine Gael MEP: “I feel I will have to inform the European Parliament about what is really happening here [at Holy CrossSchool] because no other event in Northern Ireland has caused so much concern.  I have been approached by so many people looking to find out how something as frightful as this can actually be happening within the European Union.

”Angie Boyle, Holy Cross parent: “This is part of a wider campaign. This isn’t about school children. It is focusing here now, but once it has run its course it will just move on somewhere else and someone else’s children will be in the front line.”

Quentin Davies, MP Conservative Party, Shadow Northern Secretary: “Anybody who targets children puts themselves beyond the pale of civilised behavior.”  

Professor Brice Dickson, Chair of the Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission after declining to walk up the road with the children: “A peaceful protest like that is not harming anybody.”  Later Professor Dickson would say to the press, “The [Human Rights] commission doesn’t envisage that the Bill of Rights is going to change our society overnight or even at all.  “It isn’t going to make what happened in Ardoyne not happen. It’s not going to make people love one another. It’s going to give people extra rights if they are terrorised or discriminated against.”

Nigel Dodds, DUP, North Belfast MP: “The long-running protest should act as a warning to the Government of what can happen if community problems are allowed to fester.”

Harold Good, President, The Methodist Church in Ireland: “May I reassure you that I and my colleagues have been loud and clear in our condemnation of the protest. The record is there within our papers for all to see - plus live and recorded interviews on radio and television - on the Ardoyne Road and in the studios.  As a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I am beholden to no man or woman or any political party or ideology!  So please do not assume I/we have been either silent or inactive!  However, I do have to say that we are also deeply concerned about the way in which children are being used as well as abused.  It is now widely acknowledged that there are many forces at work in this situation, by all sorts of people.  Ultimately, whatever we or others may or may not do, the solution lies with the protestors and with the parents and those who are advising them.  We hope and pray that this will be sooner rather than later.”

Billy Hutchinson, Councillor PUP, quoted on the day the first blast bomb exploded: “I’m ashamed today to say that I’m a loyalist.  I’m totally ashamed.”  Later Hutchinson would tell the press, “After the blast I said I was ashamed to be a loyalist. But at the end of the day I am a political representative and have to defend the human rights of the residents. I have to ensure they have representation.  We can’t walk away from this. We need a structured process.  I cannot leave it until it is finished.”

Jane Kennedy, Minister of State: “The British Government condemns the appalling scenes witnessed during the course of the Holy Cross dispute.  There is no justification for preventing young children and infants from attending school. These children are the victims of the inability of adults from both communities in Northern Ireland to live together in peace.

”Brendan Mailey, spokesperson for the Holy Cross parents’ group: “We would like John Hume, David Trimble and Ian Paisley to come and talk to the parents so we can put across our message of what’s happening here.  We would also like the four church leaders to walk up this road to show support for children and to tell the people who have tried to kill parents and children that that’s not the thing to do.  It just alienates the Protestant people further in the eyes of the world.  We want to have dialogue, it’s the only way to resolve this issue.”

Mary McAleese, President of Ireland: “The children have done nothing to incur the protest, they own nothing that can provide an answer.”

David Trimble, First Minister: “People passing and re-passing along a major route should be unquestioned, especially if they are children.  But not just for children, for others as well.  There is a right to freedom of movement.”

Fr. Aiden Troy, Pastor of Holy Cross Parish: “Afghanistan is the only other country in the world where girls are stopped from being educated.”  


Carol K. Russell