Anthony McIntyre  Last Sunday we gathered in this very spot. 

Routinely, it is Saturday that sees the members of Drogheda Stands For Palestine come together for half an hour to stand in solidarity with the victims of Israeli genocide. It is something we have done from the unleashing of the Israeli final solution in Gaza back in October 2023. 

Last Saturday we did not break with that tradition, turning up as normal to maintain our weekly vigil. What made last week different was that on Sunday we returned to the same location at the steps of the local cathedral to participate in a powerfully symbolic protest directed against the murder of children in Gaza. The Irish Independent while managing to get the backstory of last Sunday's event incorrect, at least used the term 'murder' to describe Israel's war on children.

Concealed behind the mask of ceasefire, Palestinian children are still being killed by Israeli bombs. As one meme graphically captured it, for Israel, ceasefire means you cease, we fire.
Behind each statistic lies a human story, behind each square of the Blanket of Remembrance, ten such stories, Just this morning I read the harrowing account of Somaya Nassar about her two year old daughter, Noor, who last September was bombed by the IDF in an area the Israelis had designated a safe zone. Of course it was a trap. Noor's mother takes up the story:

Then a violent explosion shook the entire place.
I didn’t look for anything except Noor.
I screamed her name again and again.
Then I suddenly heard her father yelling: “Help! Noor – quick!”
We found her lying on the ground.
She had fallen from the third floor all the way down to the lower level when the upper floor was bombed.
Still. Unmoving. No trace of blood.
I screamed.
After 12 long days in the ICU, my beloved girl finally emerged from the critical stage and was moved to the pediatric ward.
She survived.
But at what cost?
. . .
The head injury, and what doctors said was bleeding in her brain, caused Noor to lose her sight and her ability to move.
She lay in the hospital bed, conscious.
She ate and slept.
Nothing more.
Her eyes had lost their light.
Her little hands no longer reached out like they used to.
Her tiny body told the story of a childhood stolen before it even began, a story of innocence crushed by war.
When the ceasefire was announced on 10 October, I was in the hospital with Noor.

 

Noor
Stark. There is no ceasefire for Noor, now left blind and paralysed. This is what makes the Blanket of Remembrance so poignantly potent. It is not just a blanket that remembers dead children, it is a call to prevent more dead children, a demand that children like Noor are not targets for barbarism and savagery.

The Blanket of Remembrance is made up of single squares, each denoting ten Palestinian children who have died at the hands of the murderous IDF in the Occupied Territories, approximately 29, 000 and still counting. Fifty metres in length, it was carried through the town by a phalanx of citizens abhorred by infanticide. The starting point was the cathedral Steps, from there proceeding to Laurence's Gate, where the assembled participants stood chanting as the media took photographs, before making the return journey back to the steps of the cathedral, raising awareness with every step and through every carefully crocheted square.

The noise of car horns blaring in approval was a most welcome sound. Normally, the blast of a car horn is the result of an impatient driver urging pedestrians to get out of the way. On this occasion it was an expression of impatience with the international community which has allowed the genocide to continue and also a gesture of solidarity with the people carrying the blanket and what it symbolised.

The Blanket of Remembrance is a huge undertaking for the women who make up Craftism For Palestine. The resolve, stamina, tenacity, empathy combine to give expression in an audible and visual manner to the horror of Israeli genocide in Gaza. I share the view expressed by Ann McVeigh on Facebook when she said she was:

Incredibly humbled to play a small part in carrying the Blanket of Remembrance by Craftism for Palestine today.

On a personal note, the event had added significance for me, a blanket of a different sort at one time playing a huge part in my life. As a young republican prisoner in the H Blocks of Long Kesh during the North's violent political conflict, my only clothing for a period of over three years was a blanket. Three hundred republican prisoners were on the blanket protest in defiance of the British state's attempt to deny its own terroristic role in Ireland. Just as the same government tried to label Palestine Action as criminals and terrorists they likewise used the same labelling tactic against republicans. It took years of wearing the blanket and ten dead hungers strikers to break the resolve of Margaret Thatcher and her government gang.

During that protest one way of warding off the soul destroying tedium was to tell stories in the evening out the cell door or have political discussions. Frequently enough, Palestinian resistance to Israel would feature in either our stories or discussions. Led by people like Bobby Sands and Brendan Hughes, solidarity with Palestine ran strong through the protesting wings of the H Blocks. 

So, it was indeed humbling to find myself almost half a century on from the commencement of the blanket protest, to once again find myself carrying a blanket, that symbol of resistance, this time through the streets of Drogheda. Last Sunday the blanket was an unequivocal expression of solidarity  with those who fall under the Frantz Fanon typology the wretched of the earth, whose existence is made wretched by the wicked of the earth.

Follow on Twitter @AnthonyMcIntyre.

Blanket Of Remembrance

National Secular SocietyEx-Muslims have taken part in an event in Leicester supported by the National Secular Society to share their stories of being forced to wear the hijab.


Event featuring ex-Muslim women required extra security following protests from Islamic groups.

The event, which took place on Sunday 1st February to commemorate 'No Hijab Day', was hosted by Leicester Secular Society (LSS) and featured a panel of five ex-Muslim women from around the world.

No Hijab Day aims to highlight that millions of women worldwide are forced to wear hijab, often under threat of violence or even death. This includes Mahsa Amini, a 22 year old Iranian Kurdish woman who died in 2022 after being viciously beaten by Iran's 'morality police' for not wearing 'correct' hijab.

The event prompted protests from Islamic groups, which accused LSS of being "Islamophobic" and said promoting No Hijab Day is "offensive".

The protests prompted LSS to arrange extra security for the event, which was funded by the NSS.

Hijab is "tool of control"

'Khan', who left Islam in 2013, said wearing the hijab was "not a choice". Raised in Pakistan, she was forced to wear a burqa from age 14 and was threatened with punishment in the afterlife if she left one strand of hair uncovered.

Continue @ RWW.

NSS Supports ‘No Hijab Day’ Discussion In Leicester

Labour HeartlandsWritten by Paul Knaggs.

When Reality Collides With Ideology: 
The Darlington Nurses and the NHS's War on Women

The female changing room is not a debating chamber. It is not a seminar room for gender theory, nor a “safe space” for the validation of metaphysical identities. It is a place of strictly material necessity. It is where tired women…nurses, cleaners, porters, strip off their uniforms at the end of a twelve-hour shift. It is a space of vulnerability, where the boundaries of privacy are not theoretical, but physical.

For the eight nurses at Darlington Memorial Hospital, this space became a battleground. Not because they sought a fight, but because their employer decided that “ideology” trumped biology.

What does it say about British public services when eight women have to fight through an employment tribunal simply to get changed for work without a man present?

Today’s landmark ruling from Employment Judge Seamus Sweeney answers that question with uncomfortable clarity. County Durham and Darlington NHS Foundation Trust subjected female nurses to harassment by forcing them to share changing facilities with a biological male. The trust violated their dignity and created what the tribunal described as a hostile, intimidating, humiliating and degrading environment.

The Naked Truth 🪶Why the Darlington Ruling Is A Victory For Working-Class Reality

Right Wing Watch 👀Written by Kyle Mantyla.


Last year, Department of Housing and Urban Development Secretary Scott Turner teamed up with Christian nationalist worship leader and right-wing political activist Sean Feucht to host a Christian worship service on the National Mall.

Shortly thereafter, Feucht revealed that he was working with members of the Trump administration to organize a series of similar worship services around the country in 2026, tied to the celebration of the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

During a livestream broadcast on Monday, Feucht announced details of what he called the "Roots Of Revival" tour in which the federal government will partner with him as he hosts prayer events:

from coast to coast [in] all the historic and epic places of revival and awakening that were birthed in America . . . As I was praying and fasting leading into the new year, I felt like the Lord said, 'Remind America on the 250 year anniversary of her heritage in revival and awakening.' In other words, call America back to God, this is the source of our strength.

"Here's the exciting thing," he continued. "The coolest part is we get to do it together with the Freedom 250 organization . . . 

Continue @ RWW.

Sean Feucht Announces Partnership With Federal Government To Hold Nationwide Christian Nationalist Worship Services

Lynx By Ten To The Power Of One Thousand Nine Eight Hundred And Eighty Two

 

Pastords @ 31

 

A Morning Thought @ 3059

Kate Rice ✍😔 A while ago, I read a short book. 

It was the select writings of Mr. Brendan Hughes. His own writing, extracts from interviews - the honest words of a complex man. I read these pieces, and then I read the extracts of his interview for the Belfast Project that have been made available. 

Today, I pre-ordered a bunch of Easter lilies to lay down in memory of Brendan Hughes and those who suffered and died during such a harrowing time in the history of Northern Ireland. The kind woman in the florist offered to tie the flowers with ribbons of green, white and orange. For a moment, I hesitated. I am English. My paternal side has lived in Ulster for as many generations as I can count. My maternal grandfather moved away from the Falls Road in the early 1960s. My maternal great-grandmother, a daughter of County Tyrone. Those beautiful six counties have always been in my blood, even if not by birth. I am the daughter of an Ulster man, yet to many - I am not a daughter of Ireland. 

If I have inherited anything, it is uncertainty. In that negative space, there is a lack of identity. No claim can be made that won’t be contested by a louder voice. Brendan Hughes spoke honestly about his dissonance, though his was far different from mine. One particular writing of his has stuck with me, long after reading it:

To my friends who ask why I speak out, this is the reason. A love of people, a love of justice, a love of truth - and a hatred of power that gives privilege to the few and abuse to the many.

This reflects, for me, a care for the principles of an every day man - a desire for fairness, betterment for ordinary lives, and attention to truth. Even in a world where many would compromise their principles for personal gain, Brendan Hughes reflected on conscience and responsibility in ways that have stayed with me. 

I have heard it said that Brendan would have taken no pride in the murals and celebrations in his name. While I cannot and do not condone the violence of the time, especially the deaths of civilians, these reflections help me understand how systemic oppression can drive people toward choices that may seem alien to a modern audience. 

In his writing, Mr Hughes spoke of a young British soldier he had encountered in Leeson Street. He aimed his weapon, but in such close proximity all he could see was a “mere child, so frightened, out of his own country.” Out of all things Mr. Hughes wrote, it is the ending of this particular piece I often think of:

You came here at the direction of your leaders to invade our country. I had more reason to end your life than you ever had to take mine. I do not know you yet I know you so well. The two of us, working class guys thrown in against each other so that others could benefit. You were English and I was Irish - hardly reasons to kill each other. Farewell British soldier. May you and your children live happy lives. I would like to see you again - but not in uniform.

I often think of him by his window in Divis Flats. I think of his recognition that all those who suffered were the son’s and daughters of somebody - a truth easily forgotten when death tolls are announced with great regularity and in flashing colours, civilian and fighter alike. 

On the 16th, I will lay lilies in reflection, to acknowledge a man who wrestled with conscience, and to remember the many lives affected and ended by a complex and tragic history. A man who expressed, in his own words, a desire for a better and fairer world for ordinary people. A son, for better or worse, of Ireland. 

I do not know if I can claim to be a daughter of Ireland, though I am a daughter of many things. A daughter of an Ulster man. A daughter of truth. A daughter of diaspora. On the 16th, I will lay those lilies as a daughter of hope, that such pain will not be felt again.

Kate Rice is a peace baby.

Lilies For Brendan

Event ðŸ“¢ Frank Stagg will be commemorated fifty years after he died on hunger strike in an English prison in 1976.

Host: National Independent Republican Committee.

Assembly Point: Humbert Monument, Ballina.

Date: 15 February, 2026.

Time: 1330.

Main Speaker: Gerald Lynch, brother of Kevin Lynch who died on hunger strike in the H Blocks in 1981.


Frank Stagg 50th Anniversary Commemoration

Muiris Ó Súilleabháin ✍ responds to Robin Livingstone's open letter to Gavin Robinson.

Dear Robin,

On 10 February 2026 you issued a public statement, via your solicitor, addressed to Gavin Robinson MP, leader of the Democratic Unionist Party.

I too have lost someone close to me in violent and unexpected circumstances. I too have lived with the hurt and heartbreak you describe. It is beyond crass for any politician, from any party, to tell bereaved families to “move on”.

Like you, I do not wish to know who killed my family member. I do not want them imprisoned, nor punished. I stopped searching for the truth—an fhírinne—not because I do not want it, but because it would reopen a period of mourning I could no longer endure. I made no promises over a coffin. I do not share the binding commitment to justice that you describe.

Where we diverge is here.

In your letter to Mr Robinson, you range far beyond grief, moving into political challenge and moral instruction. You claim that right, and I accept it. I now claim the same latitude in responding to you.
You have been, at various times, Chief Executive, Editor, and part-owner of the Belfast Media Group. Have you reflected on your own conduct during those years? Have you considered the impact—human, not abstract—of the articles you wrote as Squinter, as Robin Livingstone, or as staff reporter? Do any of those ghosts return to you at night?

Did you, or your paper, ever apologise directly to the families of Stakeknife for the macabre article you authored, which compounded their grief? Did your paper ever apologise to the families of those killed by the IRA as informers, when it carried statements that forced those families to absorb their loss in isolation?

When my own relative was killed, your paper—like many others—participated in that same grim choreography. It hurt.

This is where grief, truth, and justice collide, and where clarity dissolves. None of us—myself included—emerges innocent. The difference is this: I am at peace with the ghosts that come to my door. I own them. I have apologised where apology was owed. I try, consciously, not to repeat what I once did.
So, I return your challenge.

The next time, If you—or one of your journalists—charges off, felon-setting, or into language that brings harm to innocent people, will you pause? Will you consider the hurt that your words might bring or the grief you may be amplifying? Will you recognise that words outlive publication, that they bruise long after headlines fade?

Your sales may dip if you do. But your paper already fishes in shallow waters. If you wish your paper to escape its own macabre past, you will need deeper waters and a larger catch.

And in that sense, it is maybe you who most needs to move on.

Muiris Ó Súilleabháin was a member of the Republican Movement until he retired in 2006 after 20 years of service. Fiche bhliain ag fás.

Dear Robin

Lynx By Ten To The Power Of One Thousand Nine Eight Hundred And Eighty One

 

A Morning Thought @ 3058