The Parades Commission has once again ruled that the Orange Institution will be banned from parading along Garvaghy Road in 2025. This decision is hardly surprising—it marks the thirtieth consecutive year such a ruling has been made. What may surprise many, however, is that weekly protests against this determination have continued, largely unnoticed, for the past three decades.
These protests rarely make headlines today. They lack the scale and intensity of the tumultuous demonstrations of the 1990s. Yet their continued existence has become a futile, exhausting, and, frankly, embarrassing ritual for the Orange Institution—one it must now seriously reconsider.
Drumcree represents a significant failure of leadership within the Orange Institution. The calls for mass protest during the standoff led some, including members, to engage in violence and rioting. The murder of Jason, Mark, and Richard Quinn during the height of the crisis effectively ended support for the parade among many Unionists. While the Orange Institution was not directly responsible for the killings, there remains a widespread perception that its rhetoric, mobilisation efforts, and failure to unequivocally condemn the associated violence helped create a febrile and dangerous atmosphere.
Many within the organisation agreed with this assessment, and membership numbers plummeted. Thirty years later, the Orange Institution continues to grapple with this legacy and the murder of the Quinn brothers still haunts it.
Under current circumstances, a return parade along Garvaghy Road appears highly unlikely. The leadership must reflect on all that has gone before, bring the weekly protests to an end, and chart a new course. What remains within the power of the Orange Institution is the ability to learn the lessons of Drumcree—and to ensure they are never repeated.
This brings me to the annual East Belfast Somme memorial parade, organised by the Orange Institution in East Belfast. I have attended this parade on several occasions, including as recently as Tuesday evening. Frankly, much of what I witnessed was absolutely disgraceful, completely unbefitting of the occasion, and raises serious questions for the Orange Institution.
One would reasonably expect that such a parade—commemorating the sacrifices of the Somme—would be both dignified and respectful. However, repeatedly, what is on display is anything but. During the act of remembrance, I witnessed band members and Orangemen using the break in the procession to consume alcohol—some openly drinking within the parade itself, others on the footpath. This was often followed by urinating in residents’ gardens, down alleyways, or in corners of the street.
The behaviour of a sizeable minority of spectators (and not just children) was equally poor. Mass public drinking along the parade route appeared to be the norm. Some individuals, clearly struggling with the amount they had consumed, were vomiting in the street. I personally witnessed a mother collapse under the influence while her children looked on—all before 8pm.
In addition to the alcohol misuse, footage online showed fights breaking out. Drug use was visible and, disturbingly, often took place in full view of children and litter was strewn everywhere. Local churches were actively handing out religious brochures and free hot dogs to try to highlight that the event had a deeper meaning than a drinking session, but they were fighting a losing battle. And many of the volunteers looked on in horror. The Orange Institution risks turning everyone against it.
It is clear that, at this event as with others, many attendees have no idea what it’s actually about—and nothing is being done by the organisers to address this. For too many, it’s simply an excuse to consume excessive volumes of alcohol.
I have raised these concerns after previous parades, only to be met with silence or a dismissive attitude. This year, at least, the organisers acknowledged that there is a problem and launched the campaign “This is a memorial parade—show respect.” Having spoken to some of them, I detected a genuine recognition of the ongoing issues, but some did observe improvements along the parade route.
While it is welcome that action is finally being taken, criticism of the Orange Institution remains valid. For years, it has turned a blind eye to behaviour that undermines the dignity of the occasion. There is no excuse for band members and Orangemen to drink during a procession. The practice of flipping collarettes inside out or turning band hats backwards to avoid responsibility is not only ridiculous—it demeans the uniform and insults the memory the parade is meant to honour.
The behaviour at the Somme parade has deteriorated so badly that it would be entirely understandable if residents along the route formed an association to campaign against the parade entering certain areas. And frankly, who could blame them, when those areas are left trashed by both marchers and spectators?
Similar criticisms have been levelled at the Belfast Twelfth. These include the display of paramilitary trappings and the playing of sectarian tunes such as The Billy Boys. It’s little wonder that the organisation as a whole has struggled against decline in the city. This was starkly visible on Tuesday, when a number of East Belfast lodges looked thin on the ground.
Much of this will seem alien to those of us involved in Orangeism outside of Belfast, but when the Orange Institution in the capital sneezes, the rest of us catch a cold. The ongoing image problem and lack of discipline within certain sections of the organisation affect us all.
That said, there is much good happening within Orangeism. Over the past year, there have been significant charitable efforts and notable community activism—such as renovating derelict areas, organising litter sweeps, and maintaining public spaces that local councils often neglect, including flower beds and green areas.
In Fermanagh, there has been a noticeable revival in recent years. The women’s and junior movements are now stronger than they have ever been, and this is mirrored across Northern Ireland. For a small rural area, to maintain 55 bands—including silver, pipe, flute, and accordion—is a tremendous achievement. These bands include many younger members who are engaging with music from an early age, and most are actively involved in various community events throughout the year.
That’s not to say everything is perfect in Fermanagh. The men’s lodges still face major challenges with an ageing membership. While new members are joining, numbers remain low and retention is a persistent issue. A key reason for this is the image problem and the lack of discipline in certain elements of the organisation. I’ve long since lost the battle against members turning up to parades in jeans or looking scruffy, but what continues to frustrate me is seeing members jump out of the ranks during church parades—only to rejoin afterwards. It doesn’t happen too often in Fermanagh, but it does elsewhere. It’s wholly inappropriate for a Reformed Christian organisation and it damages our already fragile relationship with many church ministers.
The Orange Institution, at times, seems to survive in spite of itself. But this cannot continue. We cannot demand respect for our culture while simultaneously demeaning it—through indiscipline, poor behaviour, and a refusal to accept responsibility. Critics of the Orange Institution will always exist. Some could be accused of hyperbole—but others raise fair, necessary points. The leadership does itself no favours by ignoring those voices or brushing aside legitimate concerns.
In 2025, the greatest threat to Orangeism is not its opponents—but its own failure to confront the truth. The Orange Institution’s biggest enemy is itself.
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