Latest news with #theTroubles
USA Today
18-07-2025
- Entertainment
- USA Today
Lynch: With Open returning to Royal Portrush, tales of redemption sweep aside reality
(Editor's note: The column originally ran in 2019, prior to the Open at Royal Portrush won by Shane Lowry.) Golf nourishes itself with low-hanging narratives, those saccharine, feel-good tales about lives redeemed or neighborhoods rejuvenated thanks to the royal and ancient game. Stories of golf as a power for good often hold a seed of truth that eventually reaps an acre of corn. Eighty-seven days from now, folks who peddle this kind of claptrap will have a field day as the 148th Open Championship kicks off at Royal Portrush Golf Club in Northern Ireland. The parables are so predictable that they write themselves long before a single shot is struck. Golf as a unifying force in a bitterly divided land. Major-winning players from differing religious traditions in whose success warring neighbors found common cause. The mother of all majors as a richly deserved reward for the good people of this benighted little place who moved beyond conflict and toward reconciliation. It's an optimistic yarn as condescending as it is contrived. Since the intersection of golf and politics is usually fraught terrain, a redemptive slant on things has obvious appeal. With the Open cast as a post-conflict milestone, there's no need to untangle the internecine threads of Northern Irish politics. Focus on the future, not on the past! And if you wouldn't mind ignoring the present as well that would be super helpful, because it ain't ideal for marketing purposes. It seems ordained that the Open will be a success. It will be the largest sporting event ever held on either side of the border in Ireland. Tickets sold out last year, and the stunning Dunluce Links at Royal Portrush is superior to most other venues on the Open rota. Such a rousing triumph may make it necessary to explain why the tournament hasn't visited here since 1951. Hence the need to present Northern Ireland today as becalmed, forward-thinking and free of the shackles of its past. None of which is entirely true. It has been two decades since the Good Friday Agreement nominally ended the 30-year conflict euphemistically known as 'the Troubles.' Ours was a grubby, low-intensity war characterized more by doorstep shootings than artillery fire. It claimed more than 3,500 lives, a total that may seem relatively insignificant unless your loved ones number among them. The pace at which Northern Ireland fills its body bags has mercifully slowed, but it has not completely halted. The most recent victim was Lyra McKee. She was a 29-year-old journalist killed when a gunman from an IRA splinter group fired on police lines during a riot in the city of Derry, 35 miles west of Royal Portrush. I didn't know McKee, save a long-ago exchange of emails. Friends of mine did and considered her a formidable voice among her "ceasefire babies" peers. 'We were the Good Friday Agreement generation, destined not to witness the horrors of war but to reap the spoils of peace,' McKee once wrote. 'The spoils never seemed to reach us.' The Open Championship is a spoil, of sorts. Just as the Claret Jug will be held aloft by the champion golfer of the year, the Open itself will be brandished as a symbol of normalcy and progress by the very politicians whose stone-age squabbles have left Northern Ireland without a functioning government for years, whose intransigence and bigotry sent generations of Lyra McKees fleeing for airports and ferry terminals. Self-congratulatory back-slapping by elected blowhards is so familiar a part of professional golf that it won't really register with those who travel to Portrush. But it will be a galling spectacle for the people who must continue to live with increasing tribal tensions, sporadic violence and diminishing opportunities long after the Open caravan leaves town. There are plenty of people who deserve plaudits for bringing the Open to Northern Ireland. Like Graeme McDowell, Rory McIlroy and Darren Clarke, whose successes and advocacy were key. And Wilma Erskine, the secretary of Royal Portrush, who fought this noble battle for more years than she cares to count. They ought to receive their due in July. But the Open shouldn't be a masquerade ball that presents Northern Irish society as something it is not. Much has undeniably improved in the 25 years since I emigrated, but not even the Open can obscure the melancholy reality that Northern Ireland remains a society hostage to those who are, in the memorable words of Belfast songwriter Paul Brady, "still trying to carve tomorrow from a tombstone."
Arab News
26-06-2025
- Politics
- Arab News
In praise of empathy, a lamentably rare commodity
One Saturday evening in March 1988, in my office at the Northern Ireland newspaper that I edited at the time, I was sitting with my news editor watching the TV news. It was at the height of a 30-year period in Irish history euphemistically known as 'the Troubles,' which had begun in the late 1960s with civil rights marches in protest at systemic discrimination against the minority Catholic and nationalist population by the Protestant and unionist majority and the local government. It later morphed into a full-blown civil war that pitched the militant Irish Republican Army and various offshoots against the (mostly unionist) police, loyalist paramilitaries and the British army. That day, March 19, had been an eventful one and we were not short of content for the following day's edition. At the funeral of an IRA fighter in West Belfast, attended by thousands of sympathetic mourners, two off-duty British army corporals in civilian clothes had been identified as such when, apparently unaware that the funeral was taking place, they drove by accident almost head-on into the procession. Their unmasking in a staunchly republican area was in itself a death sentence — but even by Northern Ireland standards, the manner of their deaths was horrific. The two soldiers were dragged from their car and taken to a nearby sports field, where they were stripped to their underwear and questioned, tortured, stabbed numerous times, their bodies beaten to a pulp, and eventually they were shot dead. The entire incident was filmed from army and news helicopters, and the footage has been described as the most harrowing of the entire conflict. Attempting to deflect criticism by pointing to wrongdoing by someone else is a temptation that can be difficult to resist Ross Anderson Back in my office, the news editor, Tony, and I watched an interview with a politician from Sinn Fein, then the political wing of the IRA, in which — as was the futile custom — he was invited to condemn the murders despite almost certainly supporting them. Tony, a newspaper veteran, told me: 'Just listen: the first words out of his mouth will be 'Well, yes, but what about…'' So, I listened. The first words out of the politician's mouth were: 'Well, yes, but what about…' followed by a lengthy and well-rehearsed litany of atrocities committed against his constituents by the forces of the state and their paramilitary allies. Tony explained: 'It's called 'whataboutery.' I first encountered it in Dublin about 10 years ago.' He did indeed: the word itself is thought to have been coined by The Irish Times in 1974, although the practice it describes is commonplace anywhere there is armed conflict. Attempting to deflect criticism by pointing to wrongdoing by someone else rather than addressing the original issue is a temptation that can be difficult to resist. I have been guilty of it myself, most recently when an Iranian missile attack on a hospital in the Israeli city of Beersheba provoked outrage from Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz. My first response was: 'Outrage? Seriously? Where was this outrage when the armed forces this man directs rained death and destruction on 34 of Gaza's 36 hospitals, killing patients and medical staff indiscriminately, leaving at least 15 of those hospitals crippled and the rest shut down, unable to provide desperately needed healthcare of any kind?' But that would be whataboutery. It should go without saying that any attack on any hospital is just plain wrong, regardless of who are the attackers and who are the victims. What is much more useful than whataboutery is its opposite: an ability to place yourself in the shoes of your adversary in an attempt to understand why they think and behave as they do. If there were a single word to sum that up, it might be 'empathy.' It sounds easy, but it isn't and, in this part of the world, it is in lamentably short supply. What is much more useful than whataboutery is its opposite: an ability to place yourself in the shoes of your adversary Ross Anderson For example, in Israel there is no evidence of an understanding that denigrating Iran as a theocracy under the malign influence of a gang of religious fundamentalists is a bit rich given the composition of the current Israeli government. Or that Benjamin Netanyahu's interminable whingeing, without evidence, about Tehran being 'weeks away' from a nuclear weapon — a phrase he first used in 2015, having voiced similar sentiments for at least a decade before that — risks making him the boy who cried wolf. Or that Iran is a proud nation with a rich cultural heritage, one of the world's oldest uninterrupted civilizations dating back more than 6,000 years, and it does not take kindly to being bullied — ask Saddam Hussein. Equally, in Iran there is no evidence of an understanding that chanting 'death to Israel' and threatening to wipe a UN member state off the map, while simultaneously enriching uranium to a level of purity — 60 percent — for which there is no known civilian use, are mutually exclusive actions. No sane adversary would permit both. So, you will look in vain for much empathy in the Middle East, but perhaps there is cause for optimism from an unlikely source. Consider the following two statements: 1. 'The repeated refusal by Palestinian groups to accept the existence of Israel is a major obstacle to peace. There cannot be a negotiation when one side refuses to accept the other's existence, and Israel cannot make peace with Palestine's corrupt and chaotic leadership' 2. 'Israel has to be accountable for its actions. Until then, there will be no peace, just a surrender, and the people of Palestine will never accept surrender disguised as diplomacy. And Israel's illegal settlements mean it is not an honest negotiating partner.' They sound like two sides in a debate, which is what they are. What made this debate unique was that both statements were made by the same person. The event, in a British grammar school, was organized by Parallel Histories, an educational charity that helps teenage students navigate complex and divisive issues, learning in the process that conflict can be more complicated than good-vs.-evil narratives may suggest. The format is that teams of young debaters argue one point of view and then, after a short break, they switch sides. The charity says: 'In the process, stereotypes are disrupted and preconceptions challenged. Students learn how to question historical assertions and identify the difference between proportionate and disproportionate claims.' In other words, although they may not be aware of it, they are learning empathy. Now, couldn't we do with some of that in the Middle East?
