Graphic by Penelope Taylor ’20
BY LILY REAVIS ’21
Last semester, I studied abroad in Belfast, Northern Ireland.
Four months into my semester and amidst major political turbulence over the ever-looming Brexit deadline, journalist Lyra McKee was killed by paramilitary gunfire in the city of Derry. McKee, a young, gay, female reporter, wrote extensively about the country’s restrictive laws regarding abortion and same-sex marriage. Citizens on either side of the conflict erupted into debate, eventually culminating in the British Parliament’s July decision to legalize both same-sex marriage and abortion.
On Oct. 21, these laws were imposed in Northern Ireland by the British Parliament, after the Belfast High Court attempted a legal challenge, the country’s first political action in over two years. Northern Ireland’s Parliament at Stormont has been inoperative since 2017, when the power-sharing government reached a standstill over party line divides. These conflicts reached their peak over the several human rights issues, including abortion and same-sex marriage.
Upon parliamentary collapse, law reform halted, leaving the territory in political paralysis. A 158-year ban criminalized nearly all abortion —including in the cases of incest or rape — and same-sex marriage remained illegal.
As a gay woman, I experienced Northern Ireland’s traditional conservatism first-hand.
While abroad, I attended Queen’s University, a public research institution with an enrollment of 25,000 students. Campus culture differed greatly from that at Mount Holyoke. Most students were chiefly interested in sports and bar-hopping, and most people avoided talking about political disagreements so as not to create tense situations.
The country only returned to peace after a 30-year stretch of violence ended in 1998. Most are unwilling to revisit conflict of any sort, resulting in mass passivity surrounding many social issues. Furthermore, Northern Ireland’s massive Catholic population maintains conservative views on many human rights issues. Religious discussions easily remind the country’s citizens of the Troubles and increase tension on identity-based conflict lines.
From my first days in Belfast, it was obvious that Northern Ireland was far more removed from LGBTQ+ activism than I was used to. Originally coming from a small hippie town in Colorado, then attending Mount Holyoke, I had always been accustomed to a societal acceptance of LGBTQ+ people until moving to Belfast. There, gay rights didn’t seem to be important in the eyes of the general public.
At the beginning-of-semester student involvement fair, I was told about the track and field team, lacrosse, quidditch and rugby. A musical group invited me to weekly Monday-night pub crawls. Multiple religious groups told me when I could get free food from their respective churches. There was never a mention of any human rights interest groups, nevermind resources for LGBTQ+ students.
Between 2012 and 2015, the issue of same-sex marriage has been debated five separate times in Northern Ireland, each time failing to secure a majority vote. The last time it was brought to Stormont, it failed by only a five percent margin. Soon after, however, the executive collapsed, halting all government action. Stormont remains inactive today, and no official statewide public polls have been conducted surrounding the matters of abortion or same-sex marriage.
From my perspective, much of the country is passively neutral regarding same-sex relationships. The topic is hardly ever raised and coming out remains uncommon, but several civic institutions have voiced their support for LGBTQ+ causes.
Being gay in Northern Ireland was uncomfortable, but, in my case, not dangerous. I spent six months downplaying a major facet of my identity to ensure the comfort of my peers, and because of that, I was not ostracized. Being open about my sexuality would have opened the door for homophobia, but the country’s repressive societal structure made it easy to withhold.
Only seven months after I left Belfast, Northern Ireland decriminalized same-sex marriage. The Student Union at Queen’s openly supported legalization, City Hall was lit up in rainbow solidarity and allies marched in the streets. The city that refused to acknowledge LGBTQ+ issues only a few months ago showed up in overwhelming support of the community upon the adoption of the new legislation.
In August, only weeks after the British Parliament’s announcement that it would impose the legalization of same-sex marriage in Northern Ireland, the country hosted its first-ever pride parade in Belfast.
Seeing pictures of rainbow-clad waves of people marching on the city’s main streets was heartening and reaffirming. The country overwhelmingly reacted with more acceptance than I perceived while living there.
Publicly, the people of Northern Ireland have made strides in support of LGBTQ+ rights. Socially, being gay is still uncommon, but the events of the past seven months suggest massive ideological reform is coming.
On the topic of abortion, however, the public is far more divided.
Northern Ireland’s traditional conservative thinkers are far more upset about the country’s new legalization of abortion, and have committed their resources to that issue instead of same-sex marriage. Anti-choice protestors have lined the streets since the law was changed, calling for the right to vote on the matter. Far-right politicians even went so far as to call an emergency meeting in the country’s parliament building in Stormont — a building that has sat empty for nearly three years.
According to the New York Times, a conservative activist from Belfast, Martin Power, said, “I can’t believe they are here celebrating a law which will allow women to indiscriminately kill our Lord’s children. The people of Northern Ireland are being forced to adhere to a law we weren’t even allowed to vote for. It’s undemocratic and vile.”
The Republic of Ireland legalized abortion in 2018, overturning a long-standing complete ban on the procedure and signalling a significant shift in human rights ideologies, even in highly religious countries.
The abortion issue creates further tension on decades-old religious conflict lines in Northern Ireland. The conservative Irish Catholic division of the city is unlikely to yield to the new liberal legislation, and targeted protests against people seeking abortions will likely continue.
On Wednesday, a public consultation on the proposed framework of the new abortion laws opened. Full services will be implemented by March 31. Until then, women can approach health professionals about abortion and they legally must provide information about state-funded services.
These laws mark a crucial step in the advancement of human rights within Europe.
When Stormont begins operating again, the Northern Irish executive will have the power to vote on recalling the legislation passed down from the British Parliament. However, it is unlikely that the country will be capable of reforming a power-sharing body while party leaders fight over the same human rights issues that ultimately led to the government’s 2017 collapse.