By Jack Holland
One of the most remarkable sights that took place during last month’s referendum in Northern Ireland was the spectacle of the Rev. Ian Paisley being hounded by Protestant militants with jeers, hoots and cries of derision. It was a curious thing witnessing the decline and fall of a movement – Paisleyism – which has done so much to shape the course of the last 30 years of Northern Irish history.
Perhaps I am being a bit premature in sounding the death knell of the roaring reverend. It might be that he will stage a comeback for the upcoming assembly elections. It is possible that the fear and hostility generated during the marching season will give his message of paranoid intractability a renewed force, especially if contentious Orange parades are banned. But even if this happens, it will be almost certainly only a temporary respite. It was clear, during the referendum campaign, that among those who were once his strongest supporters he is now thoroughly hated – hated in a way that only your own can hate you when they become convinced that you have betrayed them once too often. That was the feeling – and it was an ugly feeling – that was in the air that Saturday afternoon when Paisley rushed from the scene of the referendum count, flushed and angry, pursued by a pack of former UVF and UDA men, snapping at his heels. It was also curiously embarrassing – as if one had suddenly come upon a family quarrel. That, indeed, is what it is – a quarrel within the loyalist family. As we all know, family quarrels are the most vicious.
As I reported in these pages two weeks ago, the feelings against him were so strong in some loyalist areas of Belfast that he refrained from the