Birds of a feather: decency without borders

By Owen Morton

Owen lives in Sutton, a coastal suburb in North Dublin. In this article, he reflects on how the humanist value of ‘decency’ transcends cultural and religious divides, drawing connections between a Protestant loyalist's unexpected embrace of the Irish language, the inclusive ethos of humanism, and shared efforts to build bridges across old boundaries. From Dublin to Belfast, Linda Ervine's story becomes a powerful case study in what it means to ‘learn together’—and why decency, above all, may be the common ground we need.

Introduction

This is a story about two women. Catherine O’Brien is a Southern humanist, former Chair of the Humanist Association of Ireland and hands-on in an evolving ‘Educate Together’ (non-denominational classrooms) energy in the South. Linda Ervine is a Northern Christian (Protestant of loyalist stock) whom I had invited South to speak to our local (Howth County Dublin) Heritage Society about her unlikely Irish-speaking school in a loyalist area of Belfast. It is Northern Ireland’s only integrated Gaelscoil (Irish-speaking) primary school. And in a loyalist stronghold! Unionists see only East/West engagement; North/South anathema. Asked for a ‘strapline’ for her talk, she delivered ‘ag foghaim le chéile’ (learning together). It’s about community healing. Her British bona fides challenged by diehards, she’ll respond: ‘I’m the proudest conferee of an MBE; is that British enough for you?’ Attendance at our talk (160 in number) doubled what’s regarded as close to optimum, affording Linda a first-ever sustained standing ovation. Catherine (Educate Together) watched it on Zoom from her home in Sallins in Co. Kildare.

Decency

‘A relic of old decency’ is an Irish expression harking back to times past, that of an Anglo Protestant landed gentry, when people ‘knew their place’! It’s not necessarily the self-same ‘decency’ (in truth it’s likely at some remove) that plays out in the narrative in prospect, but they’re not unrelated. Protestants, gentry or otherwise – by definition, more readily and expressly, square up to dogma; and dogma is anathema to those of us of humanist persuasion.

Of course, Protestants (along with Catholics for that matter) and Humanists go their separate ways when it comes to what it is that keeps us on the straight and narrow; the former espousing a Divine mandate, the latter, equally passionately, of the view that innate decency, of itself, is the hallmark.

‘Decency’ is the expression that registers most forcibly as and when your narrator attempts to pigeonhole a model code of behaviour. Some might plump for ‘compassion’. What’s apposite vis-à-vis ‘decency’ is that a wide-lens definition, invariably, will embrace a moral dimension, all the while silent as regards divine grace. Now we’re in humanist territory.

From left: George Best, Eamon Dunphy, Ken Doherty

A decent skin

Contrasting with aforementioned ‘relics’, and entering stage left, we find an unexpected role in the plot for a North Dublin city, mid-20th century born, working class lad, one Eamon Dunphy. Eamon, seen here with George Best and fellow Dublin sports personality Ken Doherty, lived the life with Best & Co. when he was on the Manchester United books in the early Sixties – never making it to the first team squad. He’d become better known following a transfer to Millwall, going on to enjoy a 22-cap international football career, and better known again later in life when honed observational skillsets witnessed the emergence of a national presence in broadcasting, journalism, sports punditry and biographical authorship (Sir Matt Busby, Roy Keane, U2, and the autobiographical ‘Only a Game?’). I’d come to know and admire Eamon – not least his candid, acute, left-of-centre observational style that doesn’t pull punches. Such people, arbitrarily, if only to one’s self-serving satisfaction, I’m drawn to classify as ‘closet’ or ‘under-the-radar’ humanists. Reinforcing this accreditation in Eamon’s case, and validating his unlikely appearance in the story, is his journalistic coining of the term ‘decentskinmanship’ – his legacy to Dublinese (humanist?) lexicography. A ‘decent skin’ won’t do the dirty on you; he’ll treat you as he’d want you to treat him – as a matter of course and without expectation of praise or reward. A ‘decent skin’ is a humanist, or perhaps it’s the other way round?

Our story, echoing last month’s contribution, starts out in presenting The Amsterdam Declaration as the Bible of decentskimanship. And if the term has just one further loose Dunphyesque link, it’s that from Dublin Catholic working-class environs, our focus shifts to a Protestant East-Belfast equivalent, this time where decency raises its head in equal measure, only now in Christian wrapping. In another twist, this Christian’s earlier worldview was nurtured in atheism. And the underlying message, as we’ll see play out as the story ends, is to draw humanist mindsets into closer alignment with Amsterdam’s commitment to ‘the unfettered expression and exchange of ideas and seeking to cooperate with people of different beliefs who share our values, all in the cause of building a better world’.

A local Heritage Society speaking engagement

Now it happens that in the period between submitting last month’s Humanistically Speaking article and its publication, an event took place in Howth, a Dublin Northside fishing-village suburb that prompted this follow-up story. A local Heritage Society speaking engagement where an attendance of 80 is deemed optimum, drew double this attendance and witnessed a first-ever (sustained) standing ovation in the Society’s 30-year history. The guest speaker was Linda Ervine. Linda has found beyond middle-age fame (and infamy of sorts). Breaching boundaries (and prejudices) is her thing. Linda is British (an MBE), Christian (Presbyterian), born-and-bred-and-living-and-working in an East Belfast loyalist area. Her husband, Brian, is a former leader of the Progressive Unionist Party; Brian’s brother is the late David Ervine, the better-known sibling; a reformed (whilst incarcerated) former paramilitary activist who’d later pursue community re-alignment/harmony. Linda developed an unlikely ardour for the Irish language – an unknown quantity in Northern Ireland classrooms other than of Catholic nationalist persuasion; thus, in the event she’d spread the word, aligning Northern Irish Protestant British identity with an estranged Irish nationalist (Roman Catholic – Southern-focused) ethos.

So in this humanist-centred story there are three nuances. The first is that Linda grew up in an atheist household. It was a troubled upbringing. A below-standard education delivered her to an uncertain future. However, she was made of sterner stuff and turned her life around, as strong women will. She’d secure a 3rd level degree and become a teacher. Importantly, as the story goes, a key element in turning her life around, was to find God. Dare we disrespect that? The second twist is Linda’s unlikely discovery of the language of her pre-plantation Ulster native inhabitants – that she realised was all around her had she looked. ‘Béal Féirste’ – the mouth of the (river) Farset – Belfast. The ‘sustained standing ovation’, above, followed Linda’s account, against all the odds, of establishing a ‘Gaelscoil’ – an Irish-speaking school – in a staunchly loyalist precinct of Belfast City. It’s the only ‘integrated’ Gaelscoil in Northern Ireland – at the instigation of a Protestant Unionist! Heaven forbid! Linda sees the language as a community-uniting influence.

Your storyteller’s chest swells in the telling; he was the conduit in shaping up Linda’s Southern expedition – focused as he is in drawing open-minded opinion towards common ground on either side of the Irish border. Here’s a linked reminder from last month’s article, a Charles Handy exhortation: “If we want to change comfortably and deliberately, we each have to start turning our own personal wheel of learning. The lubricants will make it easier – some proper selfishness, a constant effort to re-frame our bit of the world.”

Parking our differences

The strands herein intertwine in relating how an email coming one’s way in travelling home from Linda’s Howth talk reinforces the case for elevating ‘decency’ of itself, Humanist or Christian, as the way to make for a better world. Park our differences, as the conclusion of our story espouses and epitomises. Invited by our Heritage Society Chair to attribute a ‘strapline’ to her talk, Linda responded as gaeilge – through Irish: ‘Ag foghlaim le chéile’ – learning together.

And the third and final nuance: South of the border, I had sent Catherine O’Brien advance notice of Linda’s talk along with a webinar link so as to facilitate live engagement. Catherine had served as Chair of The Humanist Association of Ireland and was proactively involved in efforts to loosen Church dominance in our schools. So, atheist convert, Christian loyalist, ‘Learning Together’ peacemaker on the one part; on the other flank, the principled, non-believing ‘Educate Together’ humanist tuned in. And the outcome: Catherine’s email:

‘I found it heartening to say the very least. Needless to say I could relate to Linda's stories about the obstacles faced. They were similar to Educate Together experiences in their early days. I'm very grateful to have had the opportunity to attend such an important event of such significance and by website. She has reminded me that such people as her good self exist . . . . a reminder that I badly needed.’

As we set out: birds of a feather. On which note, the case for doves and for decency rests.