The Belfast I now live in is a city filled with hope, laughter, and unity.
Belfast was reclaimed by the people for music and dance during the Fleadh last week.
By Stephanie Chase August 14, 2026 at 6:00am BST
If you’d asked me five years ago if I would ever be back living in Belfast again, I probably would have told you it was unlikely. I’m someone who left as soon as I could.
At 18, I joined the Irish diaspora in London, not planning to ever come back home permanently.
When I tired of London, I ended up in Liverpool and then Toronto before deciding to return to Belfast for ‘a few months or so’ after more than 15 years away.
This was only because I wanted some time to think about my next move.
However, not long after arriving back, I decided to stay put.
I never hated Belfast but I did think it was a hard place to grow up in and not somewhere I could see a real future.
I was lucky enough not to grow up during The Troubles. My memories of the times before the Good Friday Agreement are limited to seeing the army on the streets, something I thought was totally normal until I moved away.
Although I am part of the generation who supposedly ‘never had it so good’, the peace we achieved never seemed to give way to real progress or prosperity.
Things always felt a little run down and neglected and a bit behind the UK and the rest of Ireland.
The pain of decades of fighting seemed to be always hanging over us and that trauma was passed down to a generation who didn’t have the tools or support to deal with it.
Then there was the unique question of identity. For me, I was born in Ireland and am Irish, but there was a fear of being too outwardly Irish while having to accept you were ‘technically British’.
I often felt things would be so much easier if I’d been born in the south or even across the water, instead of somewhere stuck in between.
But it wasn’t just issues of national identity that made the north seem strange and isolating.
I grew up with gay friends who struggled to come out for fear of rejection from their families and communities.
I knew that women here had different reproductive rights than those living in England, Scotland, and Wales.
We seemed to be forever crawling behind, as if we had been frozen in time during the Troubles while the rest of the world marched on.
But the Belfast I’ve come back to is nothing like the one I left behind.
Of course, there’s a lot of issues that still need to be fixed.
We desperately need better mental health support. We still need to be free from religious zealots influencing our politics, and we need to do a lot more to protect women from violence and abuse in the home.
But where we have made progress, the changes are startling.
Now I see many thriving LGBTQ businesses in the city and a yearly Pride parade that seems to only get bigger.
I see young people being able to live their lives authentically and express themselves fully.
At some point we awakened from the deep sleep the Troubles had left us in and started moving forward.
I now see Irish identity expressed loud and proud, with the Fleadh last week being the culmination of years of progress surrounding Irish language and culture.
One thing I have realised since coming home is that Belfast has always had thriving places of community.
In west Belfast’s Gaeltacht Quarter, the language, culture, and poetry has always been there if you want to find it. But now it seems as if this spirit has travelled through the city.
The Fleadh showed people in Belfast what our city could be. Yes, the lack of cars was great but what was better was celebratory spirit that flowed through the streets.
Our city’s heart only grows bigger when it is worn on our sleeve. We are at our strongest when we come together to sing, dance, and have a pint with friends.
Three decades on from the signing of the Good Friday Agreement, there are many promises left unfulfilled. But the bright future we were told we can have is here and it has been built by the people, not politicians in Westminster.
A lot of ink has been spilled over the Irish unity question in recent months and talk of making a new Ireland has grown louder.
But this new Ireland already exists. It was on full display at the Fleadh and it’s inside every city centre bar on a Saturday night.
Change does not happen quickly, but when all the small steps forward are added up, they make a giant leap.
The Belfast I now live in is a city filled with hope, laughter, and unity.
I left Belfast to find a home but now I’m happy to say I’ve found one, right back where I started.
Figures show 375 entries for A-level Irish this summer, up 30.7 percent from 287 last year.
The number of students taking A-level Irish in Northern Ireland has jumped by almost a third in a single year, marking the biggest increase of any language at A-level in the north.
By Conor Sheils
August 14, 2026 at 6:00am BST
The number of students taking A-level Irish in Northern Ireland has jumped by almost a third in a single year, marking the biggest increase of any language at A-level in the north.
Figures published by the Joint Council for Qualifications show 375 entries for A-level Irish this summer, up 30.7 percent from 287 last year.
This marks an increase of 88 students from the 12 months previous.
The rise far outstrips the other languages available to A-level students in the north.
Spanish, which remains the most popular language at A-level here, rose 14.6 percent to 416 entries.
German was up 8.2 percent to 53, while French entries were effectively static at 227, down from 228.
Irish is now within 41 entries of overtaking Spanish as the most popular second language studied at A-level in Northern Ireland amid predictions that it will become the most popular language within 12 months.
Meanwhile, students taking the subject also performed strongly in this year’s exams.
More than half (53.9 percent) achieved an A or A*, up from 51.9 percent last year.
That is the second-highest attainment rate of any subject in the north with more than 100 entries, behind only Further Mathematics on 70.4 percent.
However, the proportion awarded an A* in Irish dipped slightly, from 10.5 percent to 9.3 percent.
Boys recorded the sharpest improvement of any group in the subject.
The proportion of male candidates achieving A or above rose from 41.9 percent to 54.1 percent, putting them just 0.3 percentage points ahead of their female counterparts whose rate stands at 53.8 percent.
Entries rose among both, with 135 boys and 240 girls sitting the exam, up 28.6 percent and 31.9 percent respectively.
Further growth for the subject appears likely as AS-level Irish entries rose by 22.4 percent this year to 672.
Taken together, Irish entries across AS and A-level climbed from 836 to 1,047, a rise of 25.2 percent.
Dr Niall Comer, Senior Lecturer in Irish at Ulster University told The Irish News that he believes the rise is down to the increase in opportunities for students to use Irish outside of the classroom.
“The remarkable growth in A-level Irish should be seen as evidence of what can happen when a language is supported by a joined-up educational and community infrastructure,” he said.
“The work of teachers, Ulster University, with its specialist A-Level courses and school visits, alongside organisations such as An Gréasán, Gael Linn and Comhaltas Uladh, has created opportunities for young people to experience Irish beyond the classroom and to see a genuine progression route from school into further and higher education.
“At the same time, increased demand for Irish in education, broadcasting, translation, public services and the community sector means that pupils can increasingly associate proficiency in the language with real employment opportunities.
“With Irish already the second most popular language at A level, the scale of the latest increase suggests that it could become Northern Ireland’s largest A-level language as early as 2027 – particularly as this year has seen a significant growth in students studying Irish at GCSE.”
‘It’s a day of celebration’: Rise in number of top grades awarded in A-levels in Northern Ireland.
Terraformer is a learning designer from Offaly, residing in Dublin.
Headlines in recent months concerning the digitisation of the 1926 Irish census records painted a stark portrait of Protestant decline during the revolutionary period. The Protestant population of the 26 counties declined from about 311,000 in 1911 to 207,000 in 1926 – 104,000 people, about a third.
The marked drop is routinely cited by unionists and revisionists as evidence that Protestant were forced during this time. Peter Hart in the 1990s claimed 53,000 Protestants left the south in the period 1920-1923, a movement he labelled an involuntary exodus and which has given rise to allegations of ethnic cleansing.
Later evidence has called Hart’s claim into question, with Barry Keane and David Fitzpatrick establishing a longer pattern of emigration with only a slight increase during the years in question and pointing out flaws in Hart’s subset and methodology.
Notwithstanding Hart’s oft-repeated error, relying on the numbers alone is insufficient. It’s a form of circular reasoning: the decline prompts the allegation, but the proof offered is also the decline. The old adage of correlation not being causation comes into play.
When other elements are factored in, the headline-grabbing figure of 104,000 plummets drastically. Emigration was a major part of Irish life at the time. Between 1911 and 1923 180,000 people emigrated from Ireland. Of these, over half (93,000) left before Easter 1916. After being interrupted by WW1, emigration resumed at a similar rate to before the war. Emigration did not spike significantly during the revolutionary years, and the period 1911-1926 fits in with an established pattern of Protestant economic emigration.
In the 18th century, 125,000 Ulster Protestants left Ireland for America. Hundreds of thousands of Protestants also left in the 1820s and 1830s. Between the famine and 1911 about 450,000 Protestants left Ireland.
Martin Maguire paints a picture of a Dublin Protestant working class in this period that was highly mobile: “The 1911 census reveals that In Inchicore, one of the few areas where the Protestant population was growing, only 23 per cent of the Protestant households that had featured in the 1901 census were still in the area. Many of those working in Inchicore were employed in the railway engineering works. It is unlikely that in depressed Dublin very many of these skilled workers moved elsewhere in Dublin. It is likely that many moved to pursue more attractive employment opportunities on the “mainland”.”
Maguire points out that “unlike the Catholic working class, which was almost wholly comprised of migrants from the countryside, the Protestant working class as a class had little organic connection with rural Ireland. Indeed the evidence suggests that the Protestant working class was substantially comprised of migrants from Britain and their descendants.”
Barry Keane notes the proportion of Protestants in Ireland that were foreign-born increased decade on decade from 1861 to 1911. For the 26-county area, 62,000 Protestants were foreign-born (predominantly Britain) compared with 406,000 Irish-born in 1861 (13%). By 1911, there were 100,000 foreign-born Protestants compared with 227,000 Irish-born 1911 (30%).
Between 1911 and 1926 the Protestant population of Westmeath fell by 49%. Of the Protestants who left the county in the period, more than half had been born outside of Ireland.
Andy Bielenberg estimates routine Protestant emigration – emigration that would have been predicted regardless of any political upheaval – for the period at 45,000. Robin Bury and Don Wood give a lower estimate of about 25,000.
Another significant reason for Protestant decline was the departure of the military garrison. The 1911 census includes 21,400 British soldiers who were stationed in Ireland. With the British army’s rotation system, the majority would have been British regiments and predominantly Protestant. Only between a quarter and third were Irish.
By the time of the British withdrawal in 1922, troop numbers had swelled to 51,000, along with several thousand nursing and administrative staff.
It was a well attested Protestant tradition to marry into the military. Between 1871 and 1911, in surveyed Dublin Protestant working class parishes over a third of marriages involved a groom who was in the military.
Likewise, in County Cork in 1919 the marriages of 38% of Protestant women were to members of the British army or navy. Other samples around the country confirm disproportionate marriage to military personnel by Protestant women, supporting the thesis that the British withdrawal significantly affected Protestant numbers and fertility in Ireland.
Bielenberg attributes 30,000 to the garrison withdrawal, including dependants, while Bury and Woods also give figures close to that. British soldiers outcompeting local Protestant males for brides would also have the knock-on effect of spurring male Protestants to marry Catholics or to emigrate.
Add in between 3,000 and 5,000 Protestants who died during WW1 and the established pattern of natural decrease, Bielenberg arrives at a figure of just 16,000 departures in excess of what we might otherwise expect and which might be explained by political violence. Bury and Wood give notably higher figures of 42,000 and 47,000 “excess” departures.
Wherever you feel the dial is most likely to fall on the spectrum, it has to be remembered that excess departures do not in and of themselves prove the case for “forced” departure.
A complicating factor is the question of how much of a pull factor Northern Ireland represented. In 1926, NI had 64,000 Protestants born in the 26 counties (7.7% of NI Protestant population). The number of Protestants in NI in 1926 was close to the 1911 figure. It’s likely Protestant migration to NI from the south offset routine Protestant emigration from NI during the period.
Moving within your own country, or more specifically to stay within your own country, in many cases just a few miles up the road, is arguably less about being pushed out than about being attracted in. We already know the southern Protestant population was highly mobile, and historically Irish Protestants moved in large numbers spurred by economic opportunism.
Considering one of the pillars of unionist objection to Home Rule was that it would be economically ruinous, it seems logical that independence would spur excess out-migration among this cohort. For decades the spectre of an Ireland severed from Britain falling to destitution was drilled into Irish Protestants till it became an article of faith. These Cassandra visions by themselves can plausibly explain the majority of excess departures without recourse to alleged sectarian provocation.
The purpose of this piece is not to downplay incidences of sectarian aggression and intimidation that undoubtedly occurred during this period. Outrages such as Dunmanway, Coolacrease and Altnaveigh display a hard-to-deny sectarian character.
Nevertheless, these instances stand out in particular for their rarity. Such abuses were not widespread or systemic, nor were they a policy of the Provisional Government or later the Free State or Anti-Treaty authorities. Republican forces protected Protestant citizens and businesses as a general rule.
The Free State also spent considerable sums to compensate Protestants and others whose property had been damaged during the troubles. The Undersecretary of State for the Colonies Lord Arnold noted to the House of Lords in 1924: “Looking at these questions of compensation as a whole, probably no Government or no Governments in the course of history have made more continued and more generous provision for those who have suffered in internal strife than the British Government and the Free State Government have made during the past two years in dealing with cases of damage and injury in Ireland. I believe that statement can be tested historically and found to be perfectly true.”
To conclude, I echo John M Regan’s summation of his review of David FitzPatrick’s research into this topic. Reports of a sudden ‘mass exodus’ of Protestants now appear baseless, and hard evidence of ethnic cleansing has not been produced.
Sources:
Protestant decline during Ireland’s revolutionary period 1911-1926: Some observations on Robin Bury’s Buried Lives. Barry Keane. 2018.
Review of Descendancy: Irish Protestant Histories Since 1795 by David FitzPatrick. John M Regan. History Ireland. Issue 4, Vol 23. 2015.
Ongoing research: Irish emigrants in 1912-1923 revolutionary period. Mark Holan. 2014.
Where did the Protestants go? Dublin Review of Books. 2015.
UK, Ireland Army Census, 1911. UK Forces War Records.
Ethnic cleansing? Protestant decline in West Cork between 1911 and 1926. Barry Keane. History Ireland. 2012.
Claims Of Irish Loyalists. Hansard. House of Lords. Volume 56: debated on Wednesday 5 March 1924.
Historic 1926 census shows Protestant population drop in Irish Free State. Gabija Gataveckaite. BBC. 18 April 2026.
The British military withdrawal from ‘Southern’ Ireland, 1922. John Gibney. Irish Examiner. 31 January 2022.
Bandon Valley Massacre: The violent week that left 13 Protestants dead. Pat O’Connell. Irish Examiner. 25 April 1922.
A House Built on Sand. Philip O’Connor and Pat Muldowney. Dublin Review of Books. Issue 11, 2009.
Files detail cover-up of 1922 IRA murder of six Protestants. BBC. 12 May 2018.
Anti-Home Rule Postcards (1912-1914) #2. Irish Memory. 16 February 2013.
‘Spies and informers beware!’: IRA executions of alleged civilian spies during the War of Independence 1919 -1921. Padraig Og O’Ruairc. The Irish Story. 4 June 2017.
Northern Ireland: A Century of Change in Statistics. Northern Ireland Statistics and Research Agency. April 2026.
Shankill Road Defenders praise Fleadh organisers after ‘extraordinary welcome’ at City Hall performance
The west Belfast band received a rapturous welcome on arrival at the Gig Rig during Sunday’s final day of performances
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Members of the Shankill Road Defenders ahead of their performance at the Gig Rig at Belfast City Hall during the Fleadh
A Belfast marching band from the Shankill Road has praised the organisers of the Fleadh after they say they received an “extraordinary welcome” for their performance at Belfast City Hall on Sunday night.
Gordon Ramsey from the Shankill Road Defenders flute band told The Irish News that they and other bands from loyalist and unionist backgrounds were given a seat at the table at the largest celebration of Irish traditional music in the world, not just as a token gesture.
The Defenders were among a large group of marching bands who participated across the week of musical performance in the city, which has been hailed a roaring success ahead of Belfast hosting the event again in 2027.
The west Belfast band received a rapturous welcome on arrival at the Gig Rig during Sunday’s final day of performances, before playing a number of tunes, including ‘The Apprentice Boys’ and ‘Star of the County Down’.
“They applauded us from the moment we came out the doors at the City Hall, so I think they were initially applauding us because we were from the Shankill and we showed up,” Mr Ramsey said.
“By the end of the performance, they were definitely applauding because they were enjoying the music, you can feel when you are connecting with an audience.
“I have to say we were pleasantly surprised by just how relaxed everything was.
“We were concerned that when we were walking around the town in uniform might be a problem, but when we did it was no problem at all.
“When we performed at the City Hall we got an extraordinary welcome from the moment we stepped out of the doors.
“We were very happy with the atmosphere, we all enjoyed it much more than we thought we were going to.”
Mr Ramsey, an academic at Queen’s University who gave a lecture at the Grand Opera House on Saturday about marching bands, has been playing with the Shankill Road Defenders for over a decade.
He says there had been “scepticism and opposition” from some within their community to the decision to perform at the Fleadh, but the majority responded positively.
“The band wasn’t hard to convince because this band has really committed itself for over a decade to engaging with other communities, playing our music to anyone who wants to hear it.
“That has been a longstanding policy really driven by our chair David Thompson, with the full support of the band.
“We feel that that policy has done us good. Others within our community were not convinced, we did get scepticism and opposition from some people who felt we shouldn’t be doing that.
“But we got a lot more support than criticism, so we never really questioned our decision and we think that that decision has been fully vindicated.”
The Shankill Road Defenders are founding members of the Belfast Bands Forum, set up last year to coordinate and promote local marching band culture. The forum was represented on the organising committee of the Fleadh.
Mr Ramsey was full of praise for the organisers, Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann, who he says brought loyalist bands to the table and ensured their voices were heard.
“They facilitated those connections that allowed trust to be built, and allowed us and quite a number of other bands to come on board, with some confidence that it was going to be what we wanted it to be.
“We felt that we were engaged and being listened to. When we had complaints, something was done about it and we felt that we were at the table, not at somebody else’s mercy.”
An evening dedicated to marching bands also took place at Titanic Slipways last Thursday, where ‘The Sash’ was among the songs played by bands.
Belfast Bands Forum at Titanic Slipways as part of Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann Belfast 2026. PICTURE: COLM LENAGHANBelfast Bands Forum at Titanic Slipways as part of Fleadh Cheoil na hEireann Belfast 2026. PICTURE: COLM LENAGHAN
Darren Leighton, chair of the Belfast Bands Forum, described the reception their bands and musicians received over the week of the Fleadh as “incredible” and says he hopes it is not a one-off.
“One of the most important things for us has been challenging some of the stereotypes around the marching band community,” Mr Leighton said.
“We didn’t need to argue against those stereotypes — we simply put our musicians and our culture on the stage and allowed people to experience it for themselves.
“For me, this week has shown that engagement doesn’t mean giving up who you are. You can be confident and proud of your own identity while sharing your culture with others.
“Our musicians stepped outside their comfort zones this week, performed in front of new audiences and were welcomed everywhere they went.”
