Rebuilding a war zone

People are slowly starting to move back to Shankill, once the scene of violence between loyalists and republicans. Picture / Reuters

It is the mother of all Belfast sectarian flashpoints, the iconic birthplace of the modern IRA, a troublespot which for decades has been an intermittent war zone.

Most people steer well away from the Shankill's Cupar Way because of its reputation as one of the toughest and most volatile parts of the city.

Yet something is stirring in this most difficult of districts, bringing hope where there was next to none.

A forbidding 18m-high peaceline, hundreds of metres long, imposes almost absolute segregation between the militantly loyalist Shankill and the trenchantly republican Falls.

It separates Cupar Way from Bombay St, which houses a "martyrs' memorial garden" commemorating the IRA, Sinn Fein and civilian casualties of the conflict.

This is the spot where in 1969 marauding loyalists burnt Catholic homes in what many view as the start of serious violence.

And yet, to general amazement, the Shankill side of the peaceline is showing the first fragile signs of recovery. The moonscape there is being re-colonised: new homes are being built on land that was written-off as uninhabitable.

So far, it is a small-scale development, but the authorities hope it will eventually bring a dramatic transformation of this ravaged area.

Practically in the shadow of the huge wall, amid barbed wire, the weeds and dereliction, stands a row of 18 new houses, some already occupied, some still being built by a developer with Shankill connections.

One source of amazement is that any houses are going up at such a hotspot. Another is that this is a private development; yet another is that they have sold like hot cakes.

"It's phenomenal," said an official housing authority source. "And if there's a hope for Northern Ireland, it's right there in that location."

According to veteran Shankill-based community worker Baroness May Blood: "My mind goes back to the days when there was rioting there every night of the week.

"It was a wasteland and we thought it would never come to life again. I said, 'Who the devil would buy a house there?' But they've been bought - this is so good."

Alan McNeill, who lives in a one of the Cupar Way houses, said: "When I tell people where I live, they step back in amazement and their eyes open wide.

"But times have changed. This will be a nice area. The changes in Northern Ireland have already been phenomenal, and there's no going back any more."

Elsewhere in Belfast, the 74,000 ($190,000) Mr McNeill paid for the house just over six months ago would buy a cramped old house without a garden. But in his new home everything is big; the kitchen, the garden, and the three bedrooms.

"I bought it because it was so inexpensive," he said. "But it's already gone up to 90,000 (NZ$232,000). As long as the peaceline holds, as long as the ceasefire holds, this is going to be a prime site for development."

The developments at Cupar Way arise from an emerging partnership between housing authorities and a few private developers, and are aimed at tackling the Shankill's deep social and paramilitary problems.

The desolation and depression which has affected the Shankill has left the once-proud district with multiple problems in health, unemployment, housing and education.

The Shankill itself suffered, while thousands of local men joined loyalist paramilitary organisations and wound up in jail. In the 1990s, some loyalist groups turned to major drug-dealing, introducing another scourge to the blighted district.

The exodus sparked by these factors eased housing overcrowding but introduced under-population.

This was particularly the case in peaceline areas such as Cupar Way, where the authorities deliberately left what were described as "sterile" areas in an attempt to cut down on the recurring violent clashes.

The new Cupar Way housing developments thus challenge the long-established assumption that little or no improvement is possible. "

Some believe this unexpected new phenomenon could be the salvation of the Shankill, though its volatility means fingers are crossed that it will say calm.

The authorities believe it is realistic to hope that the next seven years could see up to 2000 new private houses in the Shankill, hopefully enough to transform the area.

As one source put it, "This is our life-saver."

- INDEPENDENT