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The dissent gathered new intensity two weeks ago, on the day the 78-seat Northern Ireland Assembly at Stormont was due to close under orders from Britain. To dramatize their rejection of the Anglo-Irish accord, the Rev. Ian Paisley and members of his Democratic Unionist Party refused to leave the assembly hall. Finally, as the sit-in entered its eleventh hour, police moved in among the blue-leather benches and unceremoniously evicted the militant Protestants by force. That set off a full-scale fracas on the steep steps of the white-stone building. "Don't come crying to me if your homes are attacked," Paisley shouted at the police during the melee. "You will reap what you sow." The following day, the veteran firebrand predicted "hand-to- hand fighting in every street in Northern Ireland."
Though most Protestants shy away from such hyperbole, and Paisley has often in recent months been eclipsed by his deputy, Peter Robinson, 38, the agitation for change has grown increasingly disturbing. Members of the paramilitary Ulster Defense Association and the banned Ulster Volunteer Force are widely believed to be behind many of the more than 400 recent attacks, mostly on police, that have also sent a chill through Catholic hearts.
The threat of further violence has cast a long shadow over the Orangemen marches this summer. The grand master of the Orange Order, the Rev. Martin Smyth, has warned his marshals to be "extra vigilant." Last week Tom King, Britain's Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, made a public plea for restraint. For its part, the Royal Ulster Constabulary, a predominantly Protestant police force, is planning to reroute the ceremonies from possible flash points. But merely changing the line of march could provoke more protests from hard-line Protestants. At any time this summer, the men of Orange could see red. "I espouse nonviolent protest," says Smyth, "but there is a growing feeling that only violence wins."