This morning Slicer was influenced by his better half to get up early rather than have a Saturday lie-in, and drive to Belfast to join a motley crew of strangers assembling to do something quietly symbolic. It wasn't quite as early as sunrise and, whilst it was cold, the wind blowing was a gentle quiet one rather than raucous. Church leaders had suggested the event. This would be something much less attractive to the news media than angry protesters causing trouble and indulging in arson and threats of violence. The group assembling wouldn't provide either fascinating footage of fire or film of furious folk flapping 'flegs.'
To be fair, the event was reported on the BBC web page.
Those gathering also held a quaint belief that this was not just symbolism but that, by gathering to pray for a few minutes, the course of Northern Ireland disturbance and community relations could be altered - in part by the influence it would have on themselves; in part by God's influence on others. (Indeed such folk would see much of the progress already made in Northern Ireland as a result of previous prayer and the action which followed).
For those looking in from elsewhere in the world, and unaware of recent protests, there has been some unwelcome disruption here from loyalists who feel their British identity is threatened by a decision by the elected representatives on Belfast City Council to restrict the flying of the Union Jack (NI's national flag) to about 20 designated days in the year. As one of Slicer's friends wryly observed, mocking a stereotyped loyalist accent: "Vote No to demacracy." NI residents can skip the next paragraph.
If you're not 'from round these parts,' you could understandably be scratching your head why a democratically determined conclusion would provoke disturbance on the streets. 'Working class' loyalists, including those who have had paramilitary involvement, feel they have lost their voice among elected politicians. They perceive the decision as the latest erosion of their UK nationality, identity and culture. In contrast to many other government buildings across the rest of the United Kingdom, the UK national flag has flown from Belfast City Hall 24/7, 365 days a year for more than a century. No doubt part of the reason for the difference was that for much of this time the Republic of Ireland's Constitution had maintained a territorial claim over Northern Ireland. This was dropped with the Good Friday Agreement of 1999. (Flags were fairly prominent elsewhere in the UK when an attempt at a territorial claim was made by Nazi Germany. Slicer is NOT comparing Irish nationalists with Nazis (!), merely recalling the last widely remembered time when the rest of the UK had its national territory threatened and the Union Jack would have been more prominent than usual).
Slicer was pleased to find that the crowd this morning around the City Hall were not from one particular flavour of Northern Ireland church life, but a coming together of many different ones - both Protestant and 'Catholic.' This crowd linked arms to form a continuous chain encircling the (rather beautiful) City Hall. A 5 minute period of reflection and prayer was signalled around the chain by a few well-placed whistles. Slicer knows that he wasn't alone in offering prayer during those 5 minutes also for those caught up in violent mayhem elsewhere, particularly in Newtown, Connecticut. It didn't matter that those linking arms and praying silently together had never met, and that 5 minutes later they would disperse without introductions to go do some Christmas shopping, or to get breakfast in one of the stalls at the Continental Market, positioned in the grounds of the City Hall for the festive season. (Slicer had a particularly fine char-grilled Bratwurst). What mattered was that they were united in a shared purpose. At its very least, it was a display of an alternative approach to community living, one which does not seek to assert one's tribal rights, but seeks a common good for all, regardless of political aspirations or religious nuance.
There will of course be sceptics, including those who will see this as a fruitless exercise, and they are perfectly entitled to their opinion as to whether any lasting good could possibly result. Slicer remembers too that Fleetwood Mac were deemed uncool and "Nicks era" stuff thought not contributing anything musically that was worth preserving. There was one tune tho' which he confesses always to have liked. It had considerable artistic credibility as it was thought to describe wrongs done and the pain and bitterness of broken relationships within and around the band.
As Q magazine reportedly put it in 1998, "The Chain itself became the intangible thread that wove itself into the very fabric of Fleetwood Mac, allowing them to group and regroup over the next 20 years."
It was a collaborative effort in the midst of very real difficulty. No doubt some economic benefits accrued too.
The song ultimately became synonymous with The Grand Prix...
There is a prize here worth pursuing... and it is indeed a biggie. We've already got off to a great start. Let's keep the Grand Prix in sight and press on to grasp it. It will involve further change, it will involve some voluntary sacrifice.
"And if you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain
Chain...keeps us together."
Posted by: |