They watched with alarm as their votes leaked away and their hardline

They watched with alarm as their votes leaked away and their hardline stances were undermined.But the “new loyalists” were feted by almost everyone else as a refreshing and positive new element.That vote secured places at the Stormont political talks for the two parties, the Progressive Unionists and the Ulster Democratic Party which, in essence, speak for the principal loyalist paramilitary groups, the UVF and UDA.The value of the two parties since then, in the eyes of most of the political spectrum, has been twofold:On the one hand, they have played a constructive and by all accounts impressive role within the talks themselves.On the other hand, the parties have helped to persuade the loyalist hard men not to go back to violence, even after the February collapse of the IRA ceasefire.But the ceasefire’s collapse meant that the IRA would be keeping up some level of violence, and that meant that sooner or later the loyalist cessation was bound to end. There were several reasons why it did not end sooner.One was that politics proved to have an unexpected lure for the loyalists. The sight of their representatives being received in the White House and elsewhere had a real potency, and was good for their self-esteem.Added to that was the fact that individual loyalists, such as David Ervine and Billy Hutchinson, took to politics so well, and proved so articulate and effective, that this became a source of pride among loyalist working-class communities. Another reason was the hope that the IRA cessation might be restored.Analogous as they are to Sinn Fein, the fringe parties had an instinctive empathy with what was happening within the republican movement and with the difficulties involved in being part of a movement with both paramilitary and political aspects.It also helped that, until the bombing of the army’s County Antrim headquarters in October, the IRA mostly confined its activities to Britain, and bombs in England are less provocative to the loyalists than bombs in Belfast.All this helped keep the loyalist peace. In the meantime, the paramilitary groups did not dissolve themselves. Like the IRA, they remained in being, continued such activities as “punishment” beatings, and kept their powder dry.The loyalist ceasefire has saved lives on a day-to-day basis, has increased the isolation of the IRA and helped keep the talks show on the road.But the fringe loyalist spokesmen have warned that stresses and strains on the cessation have mounted with each new IRA attack and that loyalist patience was finite.At the same time, they have preached to their paramilitary associates that reverting to violence would ease the pressure on the IRA and probably mean their expulsion from the talks.Now the question arises of whether the loyalists intend a return to full- scale conflict, or whether they are planning the type of intermittent campaign which the IRA has waged since February.The recent pre-eminence of the political loyalist has led many to forget that in the early 1990s the UVF and UDA killed more people than did the IRA.There are hopes, but no guarantees, that a return to the worst of the bad old days is not a prospect.One fear, however, is that a new “tit for tat” cycle develops, since this could easily escalate into a high level of violence.Another bleak scenario is that the expulsion of the loyalist parties from the Stormont talks will lead to them turning away from politics, and that with the eclipse of the loyalist parties, there will be a reversion to the old belief that violence is a more potent force than dialogue..

Eddie Copeland, the republican activist injured in yesterday’s bomb attack, has led an eventful, violence-studded life in what is probably Northern Ireland’s most violent locality. On the streets of the small, cramped Catholic ghetto of Ardoyne, his father was shot dead by troops in the early 1970s He himself was shot twice by a soldier three years ago. He has been stalked by loyalist gunmen; now he has narrowly escaped death.
Mr Copeland has known for years that he was a marked man, carrying as he does the reputation of being one of north Belfast’s most senior republican figures.It was in October 1971 that his father was killed by the Army on his doorstep: troops claimed he had a gun, but later a soldier came forward to say he was unarmed.Mr Copeland was for years high on the loyalist paramilitary target list, but in 1993 it was a soldier who almost killed him. His friend Thomas Begley had just been killed, together with Protestant civilians, in a premature IRA explosion as he planted a bomb in a Shankill Road fish shop.He was standing with other mourners outside the Begley household in Ardoyne when a soldier on patrol opened fire on him, hitting him twice The soldier was later jailed for 10 years. The court heard that the patrol had been shown a photograph of Mr Copeland before being sent out: the soldier, it was said, felt “generally pissed off at seeing players [republican activists] walking the streets”.The following year he was alleged by David Trimble, now leader of the Ulster Unionist party, to be an IRA “godfather”.

Mr Trimble used parliamentary privilege to make the allegation.A plaque on a gable wall in Ardoyne carries the names of more than 120 local people killed in the troubles Yesterday Mr Copeland’s was almost added to the list.. For a totally different Christmas – with no turkey, no alcohol, no carols and, finally, non-being – why not try a Buddhist retreat this year? The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order, one of the largest Buddhist groups in the country, is organising a week-long retreat in a boarding school in Oxfordshire, for people who want to get away from the traditional celebrations and find themselves instead. Retreating from the world at Christmas is surprisingly easy. There are 16 Christian centres that stay open over the period for people who need a more religious Christmas than is available outside The Buddhist retreat is centred more around the new year. The 70 participants will spend their days in meditation and chores, leading up to a final ceremony on New Year’s Eve, when they will be encouraged to write on slips of paper the habits and sadnesses which they want to leave behind. These will be burned, and desirable virtues prayed for.
One leader of the retreat is Paramabandhu, a psychiatrist at a London hospital who has taken a Sanskrit name in accordance with the practice of the Western Buddhist Order.

“This time of year does particularly lend itself to introspection,” he says. “A retreat is a very good space to do that in, and to think about the year that is coming.”Most participants will not be Buddhists but will be taught Buddhist precepts. The retreat’s purpose, says Paramabandhu, is to cultivate “awareness and friendliness”.The retreaters will rise to a meditation at 7.30am, followed by a vegetarian breakfast, a work period, more meditation, perhaps a walk, more meditation, and then supper. After that, there will a talk on spiritual matters, and a final ceremony to close the day.Christian retreats are a very different matter. Sister Pippa, the retreat mistress at the retreat house in Chester, says that a large number of those who come to her are repeat customers. Her Christmas retreats, which last from Christmas Eve to the day after Boxing Day, are booked up by September most years. They cater for single people, but there is a strong sense of community.”Normally when people come on retreat, they come to be quiet and to pray, but at Christmas it is really for people and we do all the usual things: we sing carols, and have a turkey and mince pies and everything else.