The smoke had barely cleared over east Belfast before the blame game began. Last night’s sectarian flare-up – petrol bombs, hijacked cars, a burnt-out bus – has left a community shattered. And Whitehall is watching, nervously.
I was on the ground this morning. The air still stings with the smell of scorched tarmac. A woman, clutching a child’s teddy bear, told me: “I will never get over watching my home burn.” Her house was one of several firebombed on the Short Strand. The loyalist UVF are suspected. No arrests yet.
The numbers are stark. Police reported 30 petrol bomb attacks overnight. 10 officers injured. 2 civilians hospitalised. The PSNI are stretched, tired, and muttering about resources. One source whispered to me: “We can’t keep doing this. The budget’s been gutted.”
This is a political powder keg. The Northern Ireland Secretary, Shailesh Vara, is due to make a statement this afternoon. Expect platitudes about “restoring calm”. But the real story is the crumbling of the Good Friday Agreement’s legacy. Unionists are furious about the Northern Ireland Protocol. Nationalists feel betrayed by Westminster’s indifference. The middle ground is vanishing.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t just a local spat. Downing Street is terrified of a return to the dark days. The last thing Rishi Sunak needs is a fresh crisis in Belfast. Polling shows the Tories haemorrhaging support in the mainland. A sectarian explosion would be a gift to Labour. And Labour? Starmer’s team are watching, planning, but saying nothing. They know one wrong word could inflame tensions.
I spoke to a DUP councillor who was surprisingly candid. “The Protocol is a declaration of war on our culture. This violence is a symptom, not the cause.” He wouldn’t condemn the attacks outright. That silence is deafening. Sinn Féin’s Michelle O’Neill was quicker off the mark, calling for “cool heads”. But her party is already pushing for a border poll. The timing is no accident.
The real game is in the backrooms. The NIO is holding crisis meetings. The Chief Constable has requested army support. Soldiers on the streets of Belfast again? That would be a massive failure of policing. But if the violence spreads, they have no choice.
The mood is brittle. Shopkeepers are boarding up windows. Taxi drivers refuse to go to certain areas. Parents are keeping kids home from school. The last time I saw this level of fear was 1998, just after the Omagh bombing. History, it seems, does not learn.
What happens next? More protests. More arson. And a political class that can’t see past its own nose. The Protocol has poisoned the well. The UK-EU relationship is at a low ebb. And ordinary people are left to pick up the pieces.
One more thing: keep an eye on the DUP. They are under immense pressure from their base to walk away from the Executive. If they collapse Stormont, direct rule returns. And that, my friends, is a constitutional mess no one wants. But the hardliners are hungry. They smell blood.
For now, the streets are quiet. But it’s the quiet of a held breath. Belfast is a city that knows how to wait. And watch. And remember.
