Navigating a Nation's Trauma: Portrayals of The Troubles in Popular Culture

'Northern Ireland is a beautiful tragedy, strangled by the chains of its past and present. It's a place full of darkness and mysteries. It's also my home.' - Lyra McKee

 The devastation inflicted upon Northern Ireland by almost 30 years of sectarian conflict, known as ‘The Troubles’, has had a lasting impact on national memory. In a nation with such a small population (1.8 million), the violence possessed an intensity that permeated the lives of every individual. Over 3,500 people were killed during the conflict, over 40,000 were injured, and over 2,000 people were interned. Families and communities were divided, and the threat of violence remained constant. The Troubles were a terrible time during which a generation grew up without peace or stability, witnessing death, injury, and destruction as well as huge political and social change.

In 1995, during the period popularly known as the ‘peace process’, John Mayor, the British Prime Minister at the time, sat down to be interviewed by Ken Reid from Ulster Television. “Okay Ken”, he enquired, “where do you want me to begin?”. In a deadpan response, Reid mischievously replied, “1690 Prime Minister”. 1690 was one of several pivotal moments in Irish history – the date of the Battle of the Boyne where Protestant Prince William III emerged victorious over his Catholic rival James I. Still celebrated today by Protestant communities across the nation, this battle has been hard-wired in Irish Protestant folklore. But this exchange between reporter and PM epitomizes how even the beginning of this conflict is selective and political. Essential to better understanding the Troubles is to recognise that it is not merely a conflict of two uncompromising communities; it is also fundamentally concerned with personal identity. Seeing yourself as Irish or British, the use of Derry or Londonderry, playing GAA or football, the name of the pub you go to, the date you suggest as the beginning of it all. It’s all become engrained in Northern Ireland’s culture as markers of identity.

Centuries of troubled history produced a storm of political violence from the 1960s to the 1990s, which helped to fuse historical, political, social, and cultural divisions into a dangerous cocktail of sectarian militance. This militance captured international media attention and dislocated the region and its inhabitants. Many who were unfamiliar with North ern Ireland and its history, were simply baffled by the inability to reinstate peace, and this soon gave way to boredom as the peace process edged into view. It has not helped that Northern Ireland was often portrayed in popular media as a seventeenth-century throwback to intolerance and religious hatred, perpetuating ideas of violence without any explanation, which in turn, encouraged harmful stereotypes like ‘the mad Irish’. The portrayal of the Troubles which dominated British media in the 70s and 80s conveniently casts blame upon those who call North ern Ireland home, absolving those on the outside of responsibility. After all, the British government was an always active agent, often creating or worsening the situation, whilst simultaneously considering itself as above the fray. Presenting the Troubles as between the destructive Catholic and the prejudiced Protestant, only serves to reinforce harmful stereotypes and detract from Britain’s imperial involvement, as well as the ways this conflict affected everyday lives.

Traditional representations of the Troubles through sensationalist reporting ensured Northern Ireland was viewed as a backward, dangerous place. Widespread depictions of the IRA as terrorists over shadowed any broader understanding of the root causes and complexities, whilst loyalist violence and British involvement frequently went underreported. Experts have also noted that the British government curated media content and conflict narratives, often framing the violence as criminal activity from terrorists rather than political counter-insurgency. Moreover, since newsworthiness is often judged by how controversial, subversive, or dramatic the story, it is not surprising that coverage of the situation in Northern Ireland focused on the shocking. As a result, social-political explanations took a backseat to reports of paramilitary activity. This immensely impacted global perceptions of Northern Ireland and Irish identity. Harmful stereotypes typically centring around aggression, alcoholism, or stupidity, became the feature of numerous political cartoons. Even in modern media, jokes about drinking and fighting are not uncommon. When The Banshees of Inisherin received 14 Oscar nominations in 2023, the film’s stars were depicted speaking incomprehensibly in the opening skit. The host Jimmy Kimmel also joked: “Five Irish actors are nominated tonight. Which means the odds of another fight onstage just went way up”.

However, as time has passed, popular culture has seen an important shift from violence-driven narratives to a nostalgic, human-centred perspective. In Kenneth Branagh’s recent film Belfast (2021), the Troubles are presented semi-autobiographically through a child’s eyes. Emphasis is placed on community, family, and loss throughout the film, rath er than focussing on political divisions. Relationships between neighbours and family members shed light on the reality of daily life in Northern Ireland, beyond the headlines. Moving past the warzone imagery that has dominated portrayals of Belfast previously, nostalgic memories of the corner shop, football in the streets, and your Granda’s Ulster fry, shape a presentation of the Troubles which pays more attention to love than hate. Not just love for each other, but also for home. As the family faces the possibility of leaving Belfast, the film reveals the powerful connection between place and inhabitant that is innate in the struggles of the many Irish emigrants that live across the globe.

Music has also been used to chal lenge stereotypes and form alternative narratives about the Troubles. Sinead O’Connor’s political activism has had a strong impact upon Irish culture. Her brave critiques of both British and Irish authorities and their misuse of power have helped to shine light on the conflict’s complexities and tripartite nature. The Cranberries’ well-known song, Zombie, is a powerful anthem concerned with the violence of The Troubles. It exposes and calls out a lack of understanding and care by those outside of the region, pushing listeners to see the psychological and emotional damage done to everyday citizens, beyond the paramilitary activity which gets most of the attention.

A fresh contemporary take has also been emerging through a popular rap group Kneecap. Their name was the traditional wounding inflicted on alleged drug-dealers by paramilitary Irish Republicans. Mixing satire, rebellion, and Irish identity in their lyrics, they have inspired a whole new generation of Irish people to learn Gaeilge (Irish) and proudly embrace their nationality. Kneecap have surpassed expectations with the making of their biopic, selling out concerts and headlining at festivals across the world, all in their native language. They continue to fight back against claims that Irish is a dying language, expressing their love not only for the language, but their country and community. Their feature film has been described as “raucous anti-establishment comedy” and has been nominated for numerous awards including 6 BIFAs (British Independent Film Awards), despite certainly not being a British film: very ironic.

Perhaps the most influential portrayal of the Troubles in recent popular culture is the hilarious TV show Derry Girls (2018-2022). The show follows a group of young girls living in Derry (along with Michelle’s English cousin James) and their teenage antics. Its impact is undeniable due to its clever use of humour that balances serious historical events, often watched by characters on their television, with relatable, comedic storylines. In the very first episode, we see the girls getting the bus to school, the bus being stopped and searched by soldiers, and James’ utter confusion. It epitomizes how the everyday lives of Northern Irish people were impacted by the conflict and just how routine this became.

One episode centres around a meeting of two schools, a Protestant boys’ school, and a Catholic girls’ school where our main characters attend. The meeting is an activity weekend aiming to bridge the community divide, known as “Friends across the Barricade”. As the group is asked to think of things Catholics and Protestants have in common, the result is an amusing scene where only differences are shouted out. “Catholics like statues”, “Protestants hate Abba”, and my personal favourite “Protestants like to march, and Catholics like to walk”. When the episode ends, they have managed to find one thing in common - parents. The scene is a comical portrayal of the cultural divisions that have become synonymous with Northern Irish political allegiances, and that remain to this day. A visit to modern day Belfast reveals this continuing division even in times of peace. Shankill Road and Falls Road bear the tricolour or the Union Jack in every direction; murals with paramilitaries, hunger strikers and countless symbols exist on every corner; the peace walls remain standing tall, and roads have been modified specifically to deal with car bombs. Thus, the Troubles is visible in Northern Ireland’s physical space and its conscious ness. This is why a more nuanced and less reductive discussion of the past is necessary to continue building upon the peace that has been made.

Illustration by Charlotte Reid

Popular culture has proven itself to be one avenue to explore Northern Ireland’s history in diverse and creative ways. Music, film, and TV have all played crucial roles in reclaiming Northern Irish identity from harmful stereotypes. T he power of humour in Derry Girls and the rebellious tone of musicians like Kneecap have created space for dialogue, focussing less on victimhood and more on the spirit of resilience and recovery. In so doing, this creative expression shares Northern Irish talent with the world, inspiring future generations.

'It's an extraordinary thing, this tiny little province of Northern Ireland, where carnage happened. And I was part of it. I grew up in it.' - Liam Neeson

Written by Charlotte Reid (24-25 Editor-in-Chief) 2nd Year History

Issue 18, Popular Culture, Spring 2025

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Charlotte Reid is a second year History student and the current editor-in-chief of Historia. Her interests include modern Irish history and the impact of religion upon cultural identity.