From McIlroy to Kneecap, a lesson in shifting identity

The golfer's inclusive brand of Northerness is being eclipsed by balaclava-wearing nostalgic nationalism

SAM MCBRIDE, Sunday Independent and  Sunday Life, April 19th, 2026

When Rory McIlroy won the Masters in Augusta a week ago, he managed to unite almost everyone in his native Northern Ireland, from hardline loyalists to diehard republicans. Amid enduring divisions, McIlroy is one of Northern Ireland's most unifying figures.

There is intense local pride not just in his success, but in his likeability. McIlroy carries himself as the relaxed epitome of the post-Good Friday Agreement generation. His non-tribalism is sincere and instinctive. He sees no contradiction in being simultaneously British, Irish and Northern Irish. He's not obsessed with flags or anthems, but with fulfilling his immense sporting potential.

Over recent days, elements within both unionism and nationalism have been crudely trying to co-opt him for their side. In doing so, they fail to understand the identity shift McIlroy personifies.

Ten years ago, Ben Lowry wrote in the Belfast News Letter about "the gradual rise of the Rory McIlroy generation”. The context was the rise of the DUP and the slower growth of centrist parties, while the northern nationalist parties saw their vote contract. For those who believed demographic change would inevitably bring Irish unity, it was a perturbing time.

Much of that was down to the emergence of a third tribe between Northern Ireland's British and Irish — the Northern (with or without a capital N) Irish. These were in many cases people who were at least to some extent open-minded about the constitutional future, but their ­priority was to make their homeland work in the here and now.

McIlroy came to be emblematic of this shift. He was happy to say he felt more British than Irish and to be represented by the Ulster Banner. Yet he was hardly some hardline unionist. A Catholic whose great-­uncle was murdered by loyalists, McIlroy was later happy to represent Ireland. His identity, like many of his generation, is multi-layered.

As the sports writer Keith Bailie observed in the Belfast Telegraph after McIlroy's Masters victory, his upbringing in the religiously mixed Holywood is key to understanding him. It is at the heart of his refusal to fit the old moulds, even if that means "there's clear frustration in some quarters that the Co Down native isn't more outwardly Irish” — right down to the petty annoyance that he didn't pick more Irish food for his Masters champions dinner.

As he rose to the top of golf, McIlroy's approach to his national identity represented a growing number of young people who were tired of the old ways. To a significant extent, this new thinking was happening in the Republic as well.

Brexit and the bungling that followed would discombobulate many of these people on both sides of the Border.

A decade on, many of these people still exist — although polls suggest the Alliance Party, which grew as these non-tribal voters multiplied, will see its vote fall next year. Yet now there is something very different happening among young people.

‘The Kneecap generation’

Last month, Sinn Féin chairman Declan Kearney said in an interview with Tribune magazine that "there is a broader shift under way. Some refer to the 'Kneecap generation', and there is something in that”.

He's right, although many people see this not just as a cohort of young people who have an interest in leftwing international politics, as he sees it, but young people who are comfortable chanting "ooh, ah, up the 'Ra” while wearing a Tricolour balaclava. This romanticised tribal nationalism is also a cross-border phenomenon.

Part of this is about the intense divisions which followed Brexit, as well as our growing distance from the violence of the Troubles.

Few of those chanting in support of the IRA would still be doing so if that organisation was slaughtering and disfiguring civilians today. It's easier to be romantic about a killing you read about in a history book than one you watched on the news last night.

In the space of a decade, we've gone from the Rory McIlroy generation to the Kneecap generation. At the same time, Northern Ireland's place within the union has gone from never being more secure to never having been more insecure. Polling data which was grim for nationalism is now alarming for unionism, even if it still doesn't tend to show a majority for Irish unity.

All sides are sometimes prone to believing their own propaganda. Unionism became fat and lazy, with the DUP arrogantly thinking it could behave as it liked because the union wasn't under threat. Scandal after scandal was followed by vote drop after vote drop. Nationalism is now falling into that trap, believing its own hype that demographic change — a euphemism for Catholics outbreeding Protestants — will undoubtedly remove the Border.

The greatest lesson here is that people and circumstances can change. Those who talk about Irish unity, or the continuation of the union being inevitable, or who are categoric that a certain party will be in control five or 10 years hence, are ignorant of even recent history.

It's a mistake to assume that because young people today think something, that inevitably young people will think that in 10 or 20 years. It's equally a mistake to assume that a generation without the tribal shackles of their ancestors will forever stay as they are today.

Instead, we should expect to one day see one of the McIlroy generation as a Sinn Féin politician, and one of the Kneecap generation arguing against Irish unity.

LOVE THEM OR LOATHE THEM, THERE'S NO IGNORING KNEECAP

ED POWER, Sunday Life, April 19th, 2026

HOW THE RAPPERS HAVE CASHED IN ON CONTROVERSY

They are the most controversial band of their generation, but are Kneecap about to trade infamy for something much bigger?

As the Irish-language rappers count down to the release on May 1 of their third album Fenian, the sense in the music industry is that the trio, who have been condemned in Parliament and banned from Canada, are on the brink of a huge breakthrough.

“The voice for generations” is how they were described by Nigel House, co-owner of the Rough Trade record store chain, which will shortly welcome them to London for a series of performances.

“They're one of those groups where — not that the music doesn't matter — but everybody has bought into them because of their political stance and what they're saying and being outspoken.”

Fenian was recorded late last year as Kneecap were in the midst of a firestorm over the alleged display of a Hezbollah flag at a gig.

Over the space of a few months, the band had become Ireland's most talked-about group — a turn of events that seemed to catch even Kneecap by surprise.

Going into 2025, the big story in music had been the return of Oasis, embarking on a comeback tour so lucrative you could hear punters' credit cards cry out in agony when tickets went on sale.

Surely they could not be eclipsed by west Belfast rappers Liam Og O hAnnaidh (aka Mo Chara), Naoise O Caireallain (aka Moglai Bap), and 37-year-old Derry Irish-language teacher JJ O Dochartaigh (DJ Provai)?

That was before Kneecap's incendiary set at the Coachella music festival in California, which finished with the message “F**k Israel, Free Palestine”.

Those sentiments were kryptonite in the US, and after online criticism by the likes of Sharon Osbourne, they were dropped by their American booking agent, the all-powerful IAG, leading to the cancellation of their tour.

That was followed by a Saturday afternoon show at Glastonbury that was the talk of the weekend. Then came Electric Picnic, where they drew one of the largest ever crowds to the main stage.

As one show followed another, things got bigger and bigger.

Twelve months later comes the release of Fenian, a superb record bristling with anger but also containing some of their best songwriting to date.

“We were ready for a more mature kind of album,” they told a newspaper recently.

“We're known for talking about the craic and partying all the time, but there were a lot of eyes on us, and when you're going through a very orchestrated, literal witch-hunt, I think it's important that you have a statement. This album is a statement piece.”

As might be expected, they rap in both Irish and English about Gaza — one track describes Israel as “the devil” and there is a collaboration with Palestine rapper Fawzi where they proclaim: “We won't stop until everyone is free.”

But there are also reflective moments as they try to come to terms with their astonishing ascent in a little over 18 months.

On the blistering disco number Cold at the Top — think Donna Summer if she'd discovered Buckfast — they talk about how success can be accompanied by a sense of isolation and paranoia. “It's cold at the top,” they sing.

Kneecap's rise didn't start at Glastonbury or Coachella. However, the two festivals together represented a catalysing moment as they went from high-profile cult act — albeit one with a Bafta-winning movie under their belts — to the sort of band that has politicians foaming at the chops.

Headlines

Those critics in high places included Prime Minister Keir Starmer, who said it was “not appropriate” for Glastonbury to book Kneecap.

The festival faced down these calls, along with a campaign behind the scenes by figures within the music industry to have the group dropped from the line-up.

With that sort of build-up, it was inevitable that the set would generate headlines — and so it proved.

Baking in the heat of a Somerset summer evening, and surrounded by so many Palestine flags it was at times difficult to see the sky, everyone at Glastonbury had a sense that something remarkable was about to happen.

When they finally arrived onstage, Kneecap made the most of the attention, leading enthusiastic cheers of “F**k Keir Starmer” and urging fans to support O hAnnaidh during his court appearance (the prosecution against him was thrown out by a judge last month).

Kneecap's politics are not for everyone. Still, the energy on show at Glastonbury was incredible. It was like the heyday of the Sex Pistols, another group that had the tabloids red-faced with rage and which brought condemnation in Westminster.

“That's exactly what their record label boss says, that they're like the Sex Pistols. He says they're more important than the Sex Pistols,” says Rough Trade's Nigel House.

“People want a bit of that. They don't want to be conformist. They want that extra-special something.”

Infamy and condemnation had an upside. In early 2025, Kneecap streams on Spotify jumped from 100,000 per month to 1.5 million.

If Kneecap have bangers aplenty, their success has to do with more than music. By setting themselves against the establishment, they have struck a chord with young people who feel shut out from the system, says Laura Fisher of MIDiA Research, a London-based market intelligence and consulting firm specialising in the entertainment and creator industries.

“We're at a time of disenchantment with the system, with0 a kind of general feeling of 'Well, I'm not going to just listen to The Beach Boys or whatever. That's just not the time I'm living in'.

“You can look at that in all sorts of ways, like why populism is on the rise. Everything's linked to basic economic conditions.”

As with the Sex Pistols and their manager Malcolm McLaren, Kneecap are experts at turning controversy into a marketing opportunity. Whether urging fans to support them at their court appearances or providing wall-to-wall social media coverage of a recent trip to Cuba, they know how to sell their image.

“They're very, very clever, and they know what they are doing. I think they are fantastic,” says House. “The way they present themselves — everything they do is really well done.

“It is about selling records, and they know exactly what they are doing. It started off with younger people, now it's everybody, really. Everybody of that generation is buying it — older people too.”

But as their fanbase has grown, so too have the criticisms. They were accused of whitewashing Cuba's authoritarian regime during their visit and of living it up in luxury accommodation while ordinary Cubans exist hand-to-mouth.

Raw

There are also misgivings over their use of the balaclava as a marketing tool: DJ Provai wears a tricolour one on stage, and Kneecap do a healthy trade in them.

Across the water in England, they have been accused of facilitating middle-class music fans by indulging a taste for “radical chic”.

“For ageing middle-class Corbynistas with too much time and money on their hands, trekking through crowded Somerset fields to see the band play is a form of radical chic,” went a pre-Glastonbury editorial in The Spectator.

Among a certain cohort, the staunchly conservative magazine added, declaring your fandom of Kneecap was “as essential a fashion statement as draping a keffiyeh around their necks”.

Still, it is telling that Northern Irish artists old enough to remember the Troubles are supportive.

“Kneecap aren't sectarian. They're pro-Irish,” producer and DJ David Holmes told me in 2023.

“That's how they grew up. They grew up speaking Irish. They feel they have more in common with the kids from the Shankill than they do with anyone from the South. They come from the same raw, working-class background.

“From what I've heard, there are lots of kids from the Shankill who love them but have to keep it on the down-low. So, I do think they're important. A lot of it is tongue-in-cheek. They're not sectarian at all.”

Can anything stop them? Obviously, their politics will remain a lightning rod, though that won't matter to many of the tens of thousands who will watch Kneecap headline festivals this summer.

One place they are unlikely to be rocking for the foreseeable future is the US, in light of their previous issues there. They were barred from entering Canada in 2025 for “making statements contrary to Canadian values” — a reference to the Hezbollah flag incident.

Whatever their prospects in the US, rapping in Irish has enhanced their global appeal, says Laura Fisher, who notes their success must be seen in the context of the rise of other non-English artists.

Just a few years ago, performing in Irish carried with it an element of novelty. Now it puts Kneecap in the same frame as Bad Bunny and K-pop act like BTS.

At a time when non-English pop is in vogue, that has helped the trio carve out a distinct identity.

“With Kneecap, it might seem really local, when you're thinking about Belfast — the Gaelic nature of it and rapping in that way,” says Fisher. “But actually, it transcends that. It's about being political, about opposing state power.

“At a time when people are anti-state power in a lot of forms, they resonate with artists who propel themselves in this way.

“Whether that's republicanism, what's going on in Israel and Gaza or what's going on in Cuba, they've been able to tether themselves to a fight against state power.”

How big could Kneecap get? “They've gone beyond an indie band or alternative band,” says Nigel House of Rough Trade.

“They're going to play huge festivals. People of a certain generation just love them.”

Fenian by Kneecap is out on May 1.

Careless Whatsapp whispers

CIARAN BARNES, Sunday Life, April 19th, 2026

REPUBLICANS MOCK NEW IRA AND SAORADH'S 'AMATEUR HOUR' AS GROUP CHAT REVEALED TO HAVE PLAYED KEY ROLE IN CHARGING OF NINE MEN WITH CRIMES LINKED TO LYRA MURDER JUDGE TO DELIVER FINDINGS AFTER LONG-RUNNING CASE

More than 30 dissident republicans including New IRA leaders were in a Saoradh group chat arranging a political meeting hours before the paramilitary gang murdered Lyra McKee.

Information from the supposedly secure WhatsApp correspondence played a key role in detectives charging nine men with crimes connected to the reporter's killing.

Jordan Devine (25), Peter Cavanagh (37) and Paul McIntyre (58) deny murder, while Joseph Barr (37), Jude McCrory (28), Joseph Campbell (25), Patrick Gallagher (33), Kieran McCool (57) and Christopher Gillen (45) have pleaded not guilty to rioting.

The long-running non-jury trial into the death of Lyra, who was shot dead by a New IRA gunman while observing rioting in the Creggan estate in Derry in April 2019, concluded last Thursday.

Judge Mrs Justice Smyth will deliver her findings in the coming weeks, saying: “It will take me some time to give proper consideration to all of the points that have been made in this case, but this case will have my priority.”

The content of the Saoradh group chat not only helped the PSNI mount a prosecution but also gave them a key insight into the inner workings of the New IRA's political wing.

Among the high-profile republicans involved in the chat, which was shut down the day after Lyra's murder, were the New IRA's former Derry boss Thomas Ashe Mellon, his then second-in-command and current New IRA Derry leader Fergal Melaugh, and Kieran McCool, who has been described in court as the “New IRA's chief bomb maker”.

Discovered

Also taking part were Barry 'Big Mouth' Millar, a New IRA cheerleader with convictions for taking part in illegal parades while wearing paramilitary clothing, and Kevin Brady (43) who has been convicted of obstructing anti-terror searches.

Lyra McKee's alleged killers Paul McIntyre and Peter Cavanagh were also in the chat, as were Joseph Barr and Christopher Gillen, who are accused of rioting on the night of the journalist's fatal shooting.

The logs were discovered by detectives who examined Barr's phone records after his arrest.

Court papers show that on the afternoon of Lyra's murder — she was shot dead at around 11pm — he posted a message in the Saoradh group chat detailing a meeting that night at 7pm and that “the timing of the texts, sent one second after each other, suggested that the text was being sent to a contact group”.

The documents further reveal that Barr's message went to “over 30 people including Thomas Ashe Mellon, Eamon Barry Millar, Gillen, Fergal Melaugh, McIntyre, Kieran McCool, Mellon, Peter Cavanagh and Kevin Brady”.

It was after the 7pm meeting at Saoradh's office on Chamberlain Street that several of those in attendance met with MTV presenter Reggie Yates and a documentary film crew.

A court has been told the New IRA rioting that followed, and which ultimately led to Ms McKee's death, was arranged to provide propaganda footage.

The existence of the Saoradh group chat, which linked more than 30 dissidents in Derry including some of those charged with Lyra's killing and violence on the night, has been described as “amateur hour” by republicans.

One told Sunday Life: “They may as well have handed over the Saoradh membership list to the cops. It's amateur hour stuff, and it shows again that these are not serious people. It's a group of eejits cosplaying as republicans.

“To put in writing that everyone should meet at a certain location on the evening of a pre-arranged riot which was to be filmed by a British TV crew is crazy. Is it any wonder that people have been charged?”

Accounts

The Saoradh group chat was shut down the day after Lyra's murder. However, supposedly secure messages contained within it have since been accessed by police.

The same day, the New IRA's then Derry boss Thomas Mellon — who is not charged with any offences connected to her killing or the riot — changed his phone. Call logs revealed in court show how, after Lyra was shot dead at 11.05pm on April 18, Mellon made two calls from his mobile, ending in the digits '422'.

These were to Kieran 'Douse' Gallagher, who recently had bank accounts frozen in an investigation into New IRA financing, at 11.35pm and 12.03am.

Mellon's phone was switched off at 12.59am and never used again.

Later attempts by Fergal Melaugh, the New IRA's second-in-command in Derry at the time, to contact Mellon on the '422' number on April 19 failed. He eventually got through to him on a mobile ending '828' the following day.

On the same date, dissident Barry Millar saved the '828' number on his phone under the name 'Tomas Ashe'.

Five-year poll low for SF - Hanna more popular with nationalists than O'Neill

SUZANNE BREEN, Belfast Telegraph, April 18th, 2026

PARTY STILL HAS COMFORTABLE LEAD OVER DUP, WHICH IS ALSO DOWN

Support for Sinn Fein has fallen to its lowest level in five years, according to a new LucidTalk poll.

Michelle O'Neill's personal rating has also dropped, with Claire Hanna for the first time now more popular with nationalists than the First Minister.

On 24%, Sinn Fein has fallen one point from January, but it remains the largest party in Northern Ireland and maintains a comfortable lead over the DUP, which is also down.

Gavin Robinson's party has slipped one point to 18%. The Ulster Unionists are unchanged on 13%, ahead of the SDLP, Alliance and the TUV, which are also all unchanged on 11%.

UUP leader Jon Burrows, who took up the job three months ago, is the second most popular party leader here, and he's ousted Jim Allister as the clear favourite of unionist voters.

With widespread disillusionment at the Executive's performance, Northern Ireland's smaller parties are all up.

On 5% — its highest ever poll rating — the Greens have risen one point. Aontú and People Before Profit are also up one point to 3% and 2% respectively. Independents and others are down one point to 2%. Some 3,162 people took part in our online poll from April 9 to 12. The sample was scientifically weighted to reflect the population.

Ms Hanna (50%) remains the most popular party leader in Northern Ireland, up two points from last year.

In second spot is Mr Burrows (46%), a five-point rise on the score of his predecessor Mike Nesbitt.

O’Neill and Robinson are least popular leaders

Emma Little-Pengelly (44%) is in third place. She's up three points and is now more popular than Ms O'Neill (38%), who is down six points — the biggest drop of any local party leader.

The First Minister is in joint fourth spot with DUP leader Gavin Robinson, who is unchanged on 38%.

He's followed by TUV leader Jim Allister (34%), who has fallen four points. In last place is Naomi Long on 32%, who is down five points.

Ms Hanna scores higher with unionists (32%) than both Mrs Long and Ms O'Neill on 12% each. Among nationalists, the SDLP leader (63%) has inched ahead of the Sinn Féin vice-president (62%) whose rating has fallen among those voters by six points since last year.

Ms Hanna also scores better with Alliance/Green supporters (64%) than Mrs Long (61%).

With a 68% rating among unionists, Mr Burrows is ahead of Mr Allister and Ms Little-Pengelly, both on 62%, and Mr Robinson on 59%.

Mr Burrows' score with unionists is a staggering 33 points greater than Mr Nesbitt's when he was leader.

On 35%, Taoiseach Micheal Martin has dropped two points, while Sinn Fein president Mary Lou McDonald is down five points to 31%.

Secretary of State Hilary Benn has fallen three points to 30%, but his boss Keir Starmer is up six points to 24%.

The Prime Minister is more popular with Alliance/Green voters (42%) than with nationalists (28%) and unionists (13%). The Executive scores 34% with voters, down one point from last year. It's rated most highly by nationalists (36%) and least by Alliance/Green voters (29%) followed by unionists (34%).

Sliding support and Burrows making inroads puts DUP in tight spot

SUZANNE BREEN, Sunday Life, April 19th, 2026

It's beginning to look dangerous for the DUP. With an Assembly election only a year away, the dial is moving in the wrong direction.

On 18 per cent in the latest LucidTalk poll, the party has slipped one point from January - just like Sinn Fein, but there's a big difference.

The Shinners have a vastly superior election machine, and their former leader isn't about to go on trial for historical sex crimes next month.

While the DUP's response since Jeffrey Donaldson was charged can't be faulted, it's impossible to believe it won't take a hit with the trial.

As one insider admitted: “There will be wall-to-wall media coverage. Every report will include the words 'former DUP leader' before or after his name. It will be an uncomfortable period.”

The DUP currently has 26 Assembly seats to Sinn Fein's 27. While both parties have the chance of gains next May, the TUV's rise means there are more DUP seats at risk.

But what will likely concern Gavin Robinson's party most is that it has been at full throttle since Stormont returned in September.

Its ministers and MLAs have been flat to the mat. Paul Givan, Philip Brett, Jonny Buckley and others are constantly on the airwaves, making headlines, and setting the agenda.

Yet there has been no breakthrough, and that must set off the alarm bells in party HQ.

Sinn Fein's slippage is due to its timidity and passivity, so it has the room to climb if it starts to assert itself.

Despite moving significantly to the right, the DUP hasn't made significant inroads into TUV support, which remains on 11 per cent.

Polls are snapshots in time. Opinions are fluid, not fixed. Yet the failure of Gavin Robinson's party to push past the 20 per cent barrier in our last six polls indicates a worrying trend.

If 18 per cent becomes the new normal — if it's repeated and reinforced — that represents an existential threat to the DUP's long-standing electoral dominance in unionism.

It's not just the TUV that the party needs to worry about. Jon Burrows remarkable rise should keep it awake at night.

This time last year, he wasn't even in politics. In our LucidTalk poll, he's now the second most popular leader behind the SDLP's Claire Hanna.

Favourite

More importantly, he's the clear favourite of unionist voters, scoring 68 per cent to Jim Allister's 62 per cent and Gavin Robinson's 59 per cent.

Since he arrived in Stormont, Burrows' critics have seen him as a passing irritation: overhyped and overstated. They dismiss him as a peripheral figure whose name has never even been on a ballot paper.

The polling data suggests grassroots unionists view him very differently. They don't care that he is co-opted. He is personally cutting through.

There is nothing to suggest that he is about to crash and burn as leader.

He is overwhelmingly popular with UUP members. Much less so with some of his MLAs, but these LucidTalk figures strengthen his hand with internal opponents.

Burrows has said he isn't playing for second place. He wants to bring the UUP back as the biggest force in unionism. That's still a long way off.

Building a political party up again is far harder than building a personal brand. It requires organisation, strong candidates and a good ground game. None of that happens overnight.

Not all MLAs may be reselected by their constituency associations to run in next year's election. That potentially would give Burrows the chance to sharpen up his team at Stormont and bring in new blood.

However, the opportunity for Assembly seat gains looks limited. There may be more scope in the council elections. The party is almost invisible in Belfast City Hall, with just two members to the DUP's 14.

Burrows is trying to carve out a new political space for the UUP, and he has momentum, but those stats show there is still a mountain to climb.

‘Search your conscience and give troubles families closure'

NOEL MCADAM, Sunday Life, April 19th, 2026

NESBITT APPEALS FOR INFO TO HELP END DISAPPEARED RELATIVES' SUFFERING

Jimmy Nesbitt has said people are still holding onto secrets that could help the Disappeared.

The actor, a patron of the Wave victims' group, made an urgent appeal for new information on the location of remains.

In an article on the work of the organisation, he said: “If you think you know something, it means you know something. Look into your conscience.”

Chatting to Patrick Kielty on The Late Late Show, he reiterated that plea.

“I beg people, if they've got anything, have a look into your conscience and contact us,” Nesbitt said.

The remains of Joe Lynskey, Columba McVeigh, Robert Nairac and Seamus Maguire have yet to be recovered.

Of Nairac, Nesbitt wrote: “A lot of people may have mixed views on Robert Nairac, but a British soldier doesn't deserve to be lying on Irish soil.”

It's a cause the actor has long championed, accompanying relatives of the Disappeared to digs for their bodies, most recently for Mr McVeigh.

He has also travelled to Westminster with members of Wave and campaigned in support of the Troubles victims' pension scheme.

Horrifying

Of the recent dig for Mr McVeigh, who has been missing since 1975, Nesbitt said: “When you see it for the first time, it's horrifying.

“In a bog, like a massive sheugh, in Bregan in County Monaghan, standing beside the relatives, watching them look at what seems to be an impossible task.

“To have seen the hope on their faces... and that's the terribly crushing thing about it — the devastation they must go through and then the ability to get up in the morning and go again. It's humbling and it's life-affirming.

“Everyone knows that the pain of loss is, but everyone has the comfort and very basic right of being able to give their loved ones a burial or have a wake, have a grave they can go to.

The star of Cold Feet, Murphy's Law and Bloodlands has worked with Wave the largest cross-community victims and survivors group, for more than 20 years.

“It gripped me immediately because it was the stories — traumatic, harrowing stories, extraordinary stories about ordinary people — and there was an organisation at that time that was prepared to represent anyone, no matter what age, where they came from, what class... where they could come together to begin to explore the trauma they've been through,” he said.

Every summer, Wave hosts a day of reflection, but each year there are more empty chairs, even as the number of cases being referred to the organisation is increasing.

“I think we have more of a chance of moving on if we continue to acknowledge the work that places like this do,” Nesbitt said.

“I have watched over the years as families have gone through unimaginable trauma, but I have seen the success. I've seen the shift and the resolution, the joy of finding your loved one's remains so that you can, like everyone else, give a burial, a Christian burial, whatever kind of burial you want. (You can) go to a wake, tend a grave, bring flowers, communicate with your loved one, knowing that they are there.”

Playing it too safe at Stormont has cost Sinn Fein grassroots support

SUZANNE BREEN, Belfast Telegraph, April 18th, 2026

Michelle O'Neill becoming First Minister was a massive political moment, and Sinn Fein knew it.

The party was on the front foot. It wasn't just participating in government, it was symbolically at the very top. The old assumptions about who held power in Northern Ireland had been upended.

There was substantial confidence in Sinn Fein across nationalism. The direction of travel seemed clear. As she settled into the First Minister role, O'Neill was the most popular political leader here.

On 31% in our poll two years ago, her party looked unassailable. But politics isn't just about holding the highest office, it's about using it to make tangible gains.

The sense at the time was that Sinn Fein finally had the opportunity to drive change. Today, there is clearly disappointment in its performance: 24% is the party's lowest poll rating in five years.

On 38%, O'Neill's personal score has fallen considerably, and Claire Hanna is now more popular — albeit marginally — with nationalist voters. The very suggestion that an SDLP leader would be ahead of a Sinn Fein one with this cohort would have been scoffed at not so long ago. Yet, it's important not to over-exaggerate the situation. With a six-point lead, Sinn Féin remains comfortably ahead of the DUP and enjoys more than twice the support of its nationalist rival.

The party is super-resilient. It has an impressive election machine, a deep bond with its community and is more than capable of recapturing lost ground. However, it would be ill-advised to ignore the scepticism that has crept in among republican grassroots.

Sinn Fein has not been embroiled in any significant scandal or controversy recently. Indeed, it has been its careful avoidance of controversy that is perhaps behind its declining support. The party is playing it far too safe.

After a brief flirtation with bridge-building, the DUP has returned to traditional territory. In nationalist eyes, it's back to being its old obstructionist self. It never misses an opportunity these days to lambast its rival. Sinn Fein absorbs the attacks, rather than answering them. It chooses to occupy the high ground and not to go toe-to-toe with Gavin Robinson's party.

It either ignores the onslaught or responds in muted, measured tones. At grassroots level, that non-confrontational approach is starting to seriously grate. The passivity is seen as emboldening the DUP. The republican base wholly accepted O'Neill making significant gestures to unionism, like attending the coronation of King Charles. But patience is wearing thin at the lack of assertiveness in Stormont.

A5 not only stalled project

The change that so many of the party's voters hoped for hasn't materialised. The A5 has been stalled. The First Minister has promised that Casement will be built on her watch. She needs to fulfil that pledge.

Such symbolic issues wouldn't be as important if the Executive was making good progress on bread-and-butter issues but — mostly due to budgetary pressures beyond its control — it has failed. Public services continue to crumble.

If Sinn Fein can't prove that holding the top position at Stormont can deliver change, then what motivation is there for its base to come out in force to keep O'Neill as First Minister next May?

Luckily for the party, the DUP is in greater difficulty. Its 21% in the last Assembly election was disastrous, and it's currently polling at three points lower now.

In hindsight, Sinn Fein's ministerial picks of finance, the economy and infrastructure were unwise in cash-constrained times. There's no magic in its ministerial team.

The party hasn't developed its talent in the Assembly. A risk-averse approach means that MLAs seem tightly managed. Contributions feel overly scripted. It can be hard to find either spark or spontaneity.

Despite the drop in her personal rating, O'Neill remains Sinn Féin's best asset in Stormont. Indeed, her low profile in recent times — compared to Emma Little-Pengelly's visibility — has surely hurt her party.

Claire Hanna's star continues to soar as she is once again the most popular party leader in Northern Ireland. Her authenticity means she can connect with voters in a way that other politicians can only dream of.

However, the trick of translating that into further growing support for the SDLP is still proving elusive.

Hanna's leadership saw her party enjoy a three-point bounce, which it has retained. But it has remained unchanged on 11% in our last five polls, and that must be disappointing.,

The SDLP secures extensive airtime in its Opposition role, yet it is three small parties — the Greens, Aontú and People Before Profit — which are on the rise in our poll.

The Greens' advance from 2% last year to 5% today is phenomenal, given that its leader, Mal O'Hara, doesn't even hold a council seat. The Zack Polanski effect continues to stretch across the Irish Sea.

Green targets

If the momentum is maintained, the party must have a live chance of returning to representation in the Assembly. It's targeting South Belfast, East Belfast and North Down.

People Before Profit's rise boosts Gerry Carroll's chances of holding onto his seat in the highly competitive West Belfast constituency and puts the party in the running for a gain in Foyle. Alliance will be relieved not to have dropped again in our poll. Yet it needs to start reversing the downward trend if it's to hold onto key Assembly seats.

There is no sign so far of a sharp, convincing strategy. Its annual conference last month was lacklustre. It has a significantly stronger Assembly team than the SDLP, yet the party's overall image and branding seem tired by comparison. Once the most popular political leader here, Naomi Long is now repeatedly the most unpopular, which must be concerning for a centre-ground party.

Alliance also risks falling between two stools. As it tweaks its position on some issues to win back support from more pro-Union and conservative voters, it risks support among those who are more nationalist or left-leaning.

The electoral coalition that brought the party such success post-Brexit is under pressure from the SDLP, UUP and the Greens. Three different kinds of hungry, keen competitors can be challenging.

Story of Noraid, the US group loathed by White House, scoops TV award

GAIL WALKER, Belfast Telegraph, April 18th, 2026

A documentary on an Irish-American organisation, which raised millions of dollars for IRA prisoners and the republican movement during the Troubles, has won a prestigious Royal Television Series Ireland award.

Noraid: Irish America and the IRA took the Best Factual Series title at the event in Dublin.

The two-part documentary was written and directed by Kevin Brannigan, and produced by Jamie Goldrick in an Up and Away Media production for RTE, screened last year.

The filmmakers travelled to New York, New Jersey and Boston, interviewing former Noraid members, IRA gun runners, gangsters, a bi-liturgical priest in his 90s from Limerick and a former FBI agent.

It's a tale that takes the viewer into backrooms with the infamous South Boston gangster Whitey Bulger and ultimately into the White House in the early days of the peace process.

The filmmakers secured access to exclusive archival accounts and interviews as they explored one of the most forgotten but significant stories of the Troubles.

They interviewed former Noraid publicity director, New York lawyer Martin Galvin, who for almost two decades was the public face of the IRA in the US. He was regarded as so dangerous by the authorities here that he was prohibited from entering the UK.

In August 1984, he defied the ban to appear at an anti-internment rally in west Belfast. Galvin never got to address the thousands gathered outside Connolly House in Andersonstown.

Gerry Adams introduced him on stage. As the lawyer took the microphone, the RUC moved forward, firing plastic bullets, in an attempt to arrest him. Twenty-two-year-old Sean Downes was killed. Galvin jumped off the platform.

As the RUC entered Connolly House, he was able to escape. “I'd a black coat on underneath the white one I was wearing. I put on a cap and glasses that were in my pockets,” he recalled.

“A young woman grabbed my hand and took me to a nearby house. It was only when in the attic there that I'd time to be afraid.”

The RTE documentary interviewed Noraid members in their homes and workplaces. They gave their account of involvement in an organisation, which was loathed by the British and Irish governments, and the White House.

In his yellow cab, taxi driver John McDonagh said: “New York City has always been the cockpit of Irish republicanism, and it was a great honour when they read the Proclamation at the GPO. It said 'the exiled children in America' — and you're looking at them.

‘New York went with the Provisionals’

“Irish Americans have been part of the conflict from the 1800s. With the split of 1969, New York went with the Provisionals.”

Galvin said Sinn Fein knew Noraid members were “their friends in America — the people they could count on”.

Millions of dollars went to Ireland. Every American visitor could legally take over up to $10,000.

The money would be brought to the Dublin office of the IRA prisoners' support group An Cumann Cabhrach.

Noraid held fundraisers across the US. Limerick-born priest Fr Patrick Moloney, who worked with underprivileged youth in New York, sold raffle tickets at dinner dances.

In the documentary, he joked about wearing a big-sleeved robe. If someone bought two tickets and handed him $50, he'd say “I won't insult you by giving change.”

A painting of the Last Supper by republican prisoners in Portlaoise hung in his home.

During the 1981 hunger strike, Noraid held daily protests in New York. Children banged bin lids on the streets and effigies of Margaret Thatcher were burned.

Michael Shanley told the filmmakers how he grew up at protests: “There was never a card-carrying membership. You showed up, you went to meetings, you participated.”

He sold pro-IRA bumper stickers, posters and badges.

“We couldn't sell that stuff fast enough,” he explained.

Noraid's Irish People newspaper, which Galvin edited, had subscriptions “in every state of the union, with the exception of Hawaii”, Shanley recalled.

Brigid Brannigan said activists “changed careers to be sure they'd enough time to give to the cause”.

Galvin flew to Ireland regularly to discuss political and media strategies with Adams and other senior republicans.

Playboy exposure paid off

Former Sinn Fein national publicity director Danny Morrison told the documentary that Galvin once sent over a journalist from Playboy to interview republicans. “A lot of women in the movement weren't pleased, but it got massive publicity,” he explained.

Galvin defended his decision. “It got the Irish republican message to people far beyond the traditional audience. Playboy had a huge reach,” he said.

“It wasn't regarded as badly then as it is now. It did VIP interviews, including ones with President Carter, Yasser Arafat and Lech Walesa.”

In 1983, McDonagh rented illuminated billboards in Times Square to send Christmas messages to IRA prisoners, which flashed across the screens every 12 minutes.

He told the documentary he'd passed himself as a member of an Irish Catholic charity when booking the advertising. “They never asked me what type of charity,” he recalled. “I said I wanted to send season's greetings to the Irish people. They never asked what type of Irish people. I didn't offer what type.”

The messages ended with UTP — Up The Provos. The company had thought it meant Up The Pope.

Hours after Bobby Sands died on hunger strike in 1981, Noraid had organised a march with demonstrators carrying a coffin from the British consulate to UN headquarters.

From 1983, Noraid ran “fact-finding” tours to Northern Ireland. Irish-Americans were “billeted” with local families.

The documentary showed footage of Sinn Fein's Tom Hartley warning the visitors the RUC could arrest and hold them for up to seven days.

“If they ask you for the name of a solicitor, you must ask for Pat Finucane,” he said. “Having suitably frightened you all, I'll tell you about the torture too!” Hartley quipped.

As the peace process advanced, Galvin was sidelined by Sinn Fein.

“I was told I had the wrong image. They saw me as too closely associated with support for the IRA,” he said.

“They wanted to change their image. They wanted to leave Irish Northern Aid behind. I had to just accept it and stand aside.”

Galvin remains active in Irish American politics. He is now Freedom for All-Ireland chair in the Ancient Order of Hibernians. Asked how he feels about his Noraid past, he said: “I'm an Irish republican hardliner, I'm proud of that. I've no regrets, except that we haven't achieved a united Ireland.”Story of Noraid the US group loathed by White House scoops TV award

United Ireland? United by incompetence, maybe

PATRICK MURPHY, Irish News, April 18th, 2026

IF there were a united Ireland tomorrow, it would probably have one of the most incompetent governments in Irish history.

An odd prediction, you say, but it is based on assuming that an all-Ireland government would contain one or more of the four main parties currently in power in Dublin and Belfast: Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael, Sinn Féin and the DUP.

The recent history of these parties in office is poor in many aspects of government.

This suggests that modern Irish politics, north and south, is remarkably devoid of talent and, in some cases, even basic human ability.

Whichever combination of the existing government parties might govern a united Ireland, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that the new administration would be an unprecedented amalgam of administrative uselessness.

So where, you ask, is the evidence for such sweeping statements?

Let’s begin by looking at both governments’ record in major construction projects.

In Belfast, a new children’s hospital was to cost £250 million with a completion date of 2020. It is now estimated to cost £671m and might be ready in 2030 – 10 years late.

Meanwhile, in Dublin, the national children’s hospital was originally budgeted at £566m for opening in 2020. That finish date has been delayed 18 times and it is currently hoped to be ready sometime towards the end of 2027 – seven years late. The revised cost is now about £2 billion – four times the original estimate.

Of the two governments, Stormont has a much superior track record in uselessness. It has failed to deliver not just one hospital, but two.

The Belfast maternity hospital, first proposed in 1999, was due to open in 2015 at a cost of £57m. It now might open in 2027 with a price tag of over £100m.

China opened 355 new hospitals last year alone. During Covid, it constructed a prefabricated 1,000-bed, emergency hospital in 10 days.

Between 2009 (ten years after Belfast’s maternity hospital was first proposed) and 2017 (ten years before it is likely to open), China built 10,000 new hospitals.

Between them, the Belfast and Dublin governments have displayed a cross-border level of incompetence which renders the concept of a united Ireland more of a nightmare than a dream.

If our politicians cannot build a new hospital, how do they expect to build a new Ireland?

Contract the job out to the Chinese

Perhaps they should get the Chinese to run a newly unified state.

Ireland’s shared uselessness can also be seen in infrastructure projects.

Work was due to begin last year on Dublin’s MetroLink, a high-speed railway linking the airport to the city centre. Despite spending £175 million, no start date has yet been announced.

Originally estimated to cost between £8.27 billion and £10.7 billion, delays could push the final cost to £20 billion. Similar projects in Spain have cost up to 10 times less than that.

Meanwhile, in 2007, Stormont announced a planned upgrade to the A5 from Aughnacloy to Derry. It has spent £150m on the project, but not a yard of tarmac has been laid. The money has largely gone on consultancy and legal fees.

The current delay is the result of a court decision that the road’s development would breach Stormont’s 2022 Climate Change Act.

So MLAs passed a law which would prevent the A5’s upgrade, and spent £150m preparing for that upgrade, only to later discover they were planning to break their own law. The Chinese would enjoy that one.

In 2020-21, India built 23 miles of highways every day – that’s half the length of the proposed A5. Maybe China could subcontract road building to India in a united Ireland?

Both governments are also incapable of managing even the smallest projects.

To fix a leaking roof in Parliament Buildings, Stormont spent £250,000 over 18 months erecting and maintaining scaffolding before they had appointed a contractor to do the work.

In fairness, MLAs were busy during that time. They were multi-tasking by spending £500,000 to refurbish their restaurant (at a cost of £200,000 more than originally planned) while accepting a £14,000 annual pay increase.

In Dublin, the government spent almost £300,000 building a Leinster House bicycle shelter. They think a lot of their bicycles in Dublin.

Against that background (and there is a lot more we have not mentioned), nationalists believe that we should be planning to merge two incompetent governments into one big incompetent government, on the basis that it is the only way to solve all our problems.

Tell that to the Chinese. They enjoy a good laugh.