After stunning result in House of Commons, proponents say region is more than ready for change

If the earthquake that just hit Northern Ireland has an epicentre, it is the Cathedral Quarter, a corner of Belfast once dedicated to making money and now in the business of social revolution.

It was here that labour activists turned industrial warehouses and trading offices into political hubs, here that gay bars opened and prospered, here that equal rights campaigners set up campaign coalitions, and here that they said goodbye to Lyra McKee and vowed that her death would not be in vain.

“We’ve had so many occasions when we’ve had our hopes raised only to come crashing back down,” said Cara McCann, the director of Here NI, a charity that advocates for lesbian and bisexual women, on Wednesday. “But yesterday we just couldn’t believe it. This morning, waking up, our community feels more valued.”

A day earlier MPs had voted resoundingly to extend same-sex marriage and access to abortion to Northern Ireland, bringing the region into line with the rest of the UK. The Cathedral Quarter’s non-profits and campaign groups erupted in celebration as they realised that years of lobbying, educating, organising and marching had paid off, seemingly in a blink.

“It feels surreal. You feel validated,” said Clare Moore, an equality officer for the Irish Congress of Trade Unions. She said Northern Ireland was more than ready for this moment. “The battle for hearts and minds was won a long time ago.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Clare Moore: ‘It feels surreal. You feel validated.’ Photograph: Arthur Allison/Pacemaker

Opinion polls in recent years showed big majorities in favour of same-sex marriage and a loosening of the ban on abortion – a testament to changing values and grassroots work by the likes of Love Equality, an umbrella group.

It helped when England and Wales enshrined marriage equality in 2013, followed by the Republic of Ireland in 2015. A rally in Belfast that summer drew tens of thousands of people. In 2018 voters in the republic voted by a landslide to legalise abortion.

Last summer’s Pride parade in Belfast drew corporate sponsors, clerics, families, politicians and police – a confident, exuberant display of people power. The murder in April of McKee, a writer and LGBTQ activist, channelled grief into demands for change.

At the funeral at St Anne’s Cathedral – from which the Cathedral Quarter gets its name – McKee’s partner, Sara Canning, challenged Theresa May to legislate for equal marriage. “I wanted her to know that Lyra and I had a right to be treated as equal citizens in our own country. Surely that’s not too much to ask?” she said.

The Democratic Unionist party (DUP) had blocked reform when it shared power with Sinn Féin at Stormont, the seat of Northern Ireland’s government. After power-sharing collapsed in 2017, leaving Northern Ireland in a political vacuum, it was able to block change via Westminster because the Conservative government needed DUP support.

But on Tuesday the House of Commons, a chamber mocked and vilified for its Brexit gyrations, a symbol of broken politics, ruptured trust and institutional dysfunction, delivered a stunning result.

Backbench Labour MPs had added two amendments to an otherwise technical government bill connected to budgets and elections for Northern Ireland’s mothballed assembly. Conor McGinn’s proposal to extend same-sex marriage to the region passed by 383 to 73 votes. Stella Creasy’s proposal to extend abortion rights to the only part of the UK where it remains illegal passed by 332 to 99.

A Downing Street source said on Wednesday: “The government has heard the message the house has delivered and will seek to act upon it.”

McGinn’s amendment theoretically will lead to an automatic change in the law within three months if devolved government remains stalled. If and when Stormont is revived it can approve or repeal the measure. It remains unclear what form the new abortion legislation will take.

“It’s amazing. I’m shellshocked,” said Malachai O’Hara, a deputy leader of the Green party and veteran LGBQT advocate.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Liz Lismore: ‘I know loads of gays, they’re lovely people.’ Photograph: Arthur Allison/Pacemaker

People interviewed on the streets of Belfast mostly welcomed the news. “I know loads of gays, they’re lovely people. Good luck to them,” beamed Liz Lismore, 83, a retired nurse. She was less keen on abortion services. “I don’t believe in that.”

Daniel Murphy, 90, a retired labourer, said people should be able to make their own decisions about both issues. “Everyone has a free mind.”

Des McKeown, 72, a property steward at the First Presbyterian church, also endorsed the changes. “People should be left to interpret scripture according to their own conscience,” he said.

Others were appalled. Peter Lynas, the Northern Ireland director of the Evangelical Alliance, lamented the coming changes as “a tragedy”. David McLaughlin, a Free Presbyterian minister, said they were an “affront to democracy”.

A woman who gave her name only as Marianne, pausing on her way into St Patrick’s Catholic church, condemned the Westminster votes. “It’s horrifying,” she said. It signalled the murder of babies, unholy unions and direct rule by Britain – all anathema.

Gauging the impact on devolution involves peering through the looking glass of Northern Ireland politics. DUP leaders, ostensibly humiliated and defeated, may benefit in the long term by being rid of policies unpopular with almost everyone except their socially conservative base. Party modernisers are said to be secretly relieved.

Socially liberal Sinn Féin, ostensibly triumphant, cheers the outcome but chafes that it came via London. The party may now find it harder to persuade the DUP to accept an Irish language act.

For the activists in Cathedral Quarter, it matters little that change came via Westminster. What mattered was that change came, said McCann. “This gives our families validation.”