“What The Proclamation
Means To Me”
By Nell McCafferty (Journalist and Political Activist)
The Proclamation was never up there on the
kitchen wall in the South, with the Sacred Heart, the Pope and John F
Kennedy. Born in Derry as I was, I never saw it until my late twenties, when
the Northern Civil rights movement collapsed in flames. Though I loved, and
was startled by, the simple nobility of its aims, I did not warm to it
because it was being waved about by both wings of the IRA, as evidence of
what they said was the sell-out of the North by the South. They were using
the proclamation more as a red rag to a bull, than as the fairly red flag it
genuinely is.
Now all nationalist parties, North and South, claim a piece of it. This is
good, and simultaneously off-putting. They wave it at each other, and us, as
though they were the true, truthful sole guardians of its ideals.
We do not revere our proclamation in the sincere way that Americans do, who
are able to recite theirs by heart. Never mind that the Yanks disagree over
the meaning of their declaration - at least they know it.
So I am glad that éirígí is attempting to bring a copy of the Proclamation
into every home.
I hope éirígí's success will not be interpreted as a nationalist commitment
to a socialist republic. We should be so lucky. It is more than enough to
read it and discover, or rediscover, the ideals which inspired it.
Let opinion flourish and differ on how best to attain those ideals. It's not
going up on my wall, though. Right now, I'm not interested in declarations
on my chest, or on my wall. The proclamation brings back too many memories
of our wars on this island. I am not yet at peace with all of that. It will
be lovely, though, to see it reclaimed elsewhere, in a peaceful way.
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