Friday, December 7, 2007

John Howard and the Walls of Derry










It's 5 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and I pass a group of 10 kids between the ages of 12 and 15 as I leave the town centre of Derry and pass under the gate in the city walls on my way to my lodgings in the Bogside. As I pass them I notice that they have glass beer bottles sticking out of their pockets.

Later I hear that they have bricked a police landrover. Just for the hell of it. The landrover drove off and the kids carried on their way. No arrests. No fuss. It seemed like it was a normal thing for a Sunday afternoon.

Derry seems to be at that point where the full-on police style of old has mellowed out but the community policing (read paramilitary control) which kept the city in order is not yet developed to the point where it can keep order. There's a particular style of anarchy which prevails which is liberating but yet has a dark side to it. Is it progress this uncertain peace?

What would it be like to bring up a family here? It reminded me of Brixton's frontline in the 90's. When we were young and single it was a "colourful" place full of energy and excitement but when you've got to bring up kids there then you tend to focus on the practical things like how to avoid coke dealers when you pick up the kids from school. This then is my litmus test for a nice community - me being no longer single and carefree but a parent with responsibilities.

I met up with Julian Temple at the Foyle Film Festival this weekend and the irony was not lost that here was the director of the Sex Pistol's Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle witnessing a new kind of 'anarchy in the UK' on the streets of Derry.

Rewind back 24 hours and I'm sitting in Belfast Central Station looking at the results of the Australian General Election coming through on Sky News. I've been texting friends and family in Sydney as the results came in that morning and it's beginning to look good for us. I cheer loudly as the news comes in that the Libs are in trouble. When they cross live to Maxine McKew in Bennelong and it's clear that Howard has lost his seat I stand up and ROAR from the soles of my shoes.

I then notice that I am surrounded by Security. "Are you alright fella?"
"We won the election" I say.
"Aye, I think the whole station knows" he replies drily.

I promise not to cheer anymore and they obviously decide I am not psycho.
Howard is gone. I can hardly believe it.
No more being embarassed about Australia and the evil things that he and his ilk have done in its name.
It's safe to go home now.

1 comment:

Graeme said...

Hi Enda. What a great writer you are. I was in KL Malaysia on election night - what a joyful night. Not the revolution but it felt like it! The Howard era is dead. Like the old Dylan tune goes, "and I'll stand on his grave 'till I'm sure that he's dead!" cheers. Graeme