WHEN the Feile an Phobail began 35 years ago, no-one would have imagined that it would become as successful as it has.

It was established as a direct response to the conflict. Its purpose was “to celebrate the positive side of the community, its creativity, its energy, its passion for the arts, and for sport.”

It was also to replace the yearly street violence which took place, protests against internment without trial of Catholic and nationalist men on August 9 1971.

Buses were burnt, riots took place and people especially, young people were hurt with rubber or real bullets.

Some parents — I was one of them — would sit outside a teenager’s bedroom door to stop them from sneaking out to join the “fun.”

Communities were only too pleased to see an alternative to the hostility, but make no mistake, there were plenty of adults who supported it.

These were the days of the British army tramping through your garden and your house, the days of army and paramilitary onslaught.

It was hard to believe that unionists would sit in debates with nationalists, that East Belfast Protestants would talk about their alternative lives or hear Rev Prof Dr Bill Addley give a talk about the history of Albert Street Presbyterian Church or that the PSNI would be members on the panels alongside members of Sinn Fein.

A massive programme is produced containing so much — visit www.feilebelfast.com to get an idea of the diversity. The Feile grew and grew, and many people came from far and near to participate in it

The Communist Party began its relationship with the Feile in 2009 when we showed a DVD of Peadar O’Donnell, renowned socialist and republican, speaking at a meeting organised by the West Belfast Branch of the Communist Party in the Conway Mill in 1984.

On that occasion, Sean Morrissey, who chaired the meeting in 1984, introduced the topic, again in Conway Mill.

In 2011, guest speaker Kevin McCorry spoke about national democracy in the 21st century, and we started the first of the Madge Davison Memorial Lectures.

All down these years, the lectures were successful and this year was no exception, with Mike Morrissey presenting the thought-provoking talk Narratives, Identity and Politics.

Therefore, it is disappointing to see the threat to the funding of Feile because of the band the Wolfe Tones and their chant of “Ooh, ah, up the ’Ra” (“ra” meaning IRA).

It is not just the funding, some future participants from loyalist and unionist backgrounds may opt out of the Feile. Some people from nationalist and republican backgrounds see the Feile as dominated by Sinn Fein and they are not interested either.

The media reported around 10,000 fans attended the festival finale in Falls Park in West Belfast on the night of August 13, and video footage shows many fans singing along and chanting “Ooh, ah, up the ’Ra.”

In response, the Belfast Telegraph recounted, Gary Murray, who lost his teenage sister in the IRA Shankill bomb, accused festival organisers of knowingly organising a musical event “engaged in the promotion and celebration of IRA terrorism.”

In 2012 on July 12, a loyalist band taking part in the annual Orange parade in Belfast was filmed marching in a circle outside a Catholic church, playing the Famine Song, an anti-Catholic song judged racist by a court in Scotland.

The Parades Commission described the incident as “totally inappropriate.” Sinn Fein’s Conor Maskey said it was “deeply provocative.” 

DUP MLA and Orange Order member Nelson McCausland said that while the band was “thoughtless and naive,” it did not deliberately set out to offend.

“It was just an empty building. There was no-one there to be provoked,” he said.  

This is where we are: how do we deal with the hurt and the triumphalism? It is a difficult question because the history of Ireland is contained in the history of its music, literature, plays and so on.

For example, one of the events in the Feile was Brendan Behan: In Story and Song, with Dr Micheal Peirce accompanied by Liam Lappin. You could not imagine this experience without the songs of Brendan and Dominic Behan and other members of his family.

“Ooh, ah, up the ’Ra.” has now become a symbol of triumph, but can it compare with the culture of Brendan Behan, Sean O’Casey, and James Connolly?

It is a complex question and I do not have an answer to it. If on the other hand, the Wolfe Tones were singing songs about how to take control of our own destiny by working together for a socialist, united, independent Ireland — if they were shouting “Ooh, ah, up the workers” — I for one would not object.