Great Britain's attitude towards Northern Ireland has been puzzling me lately. The impetus for my confusion, of course, is the sectarian flag protests that are now in their eighth week in Belfast. While recent demonstrations have been mainly peaceful, the Police Service of Northern Ireland has now adopted a more "assertive" approach, and protesters warn that the resultant arrests – 11 people last Monday – will only make matters worse.

Over the last two months, churches have been petrol bombed, buses hijacked and water cannon and baton rounds deployed, and over 100 police officers have been injured (I could not find reliable numbers for injured civilians). The unrest has placed a massive strain on state resources, and the local economy has been badly affected too.

I moved to the UK from the Republic of Ireland four and a half years ago. Shortly after I arrived, I met a number of British people who were unaware that Ireland was partitioned, with an independent republic in the south and a region of the UK in the north. "I thought it was the same as Scotland and Wales," one explained. At first, I couldn't get my head around how any British citizen could be lacking this knowledge, but having lived here for a longer stretch, I'm no longer as shocked.

There is a very strange reluctance to give due attention to newsworthy Northern Irish events in Britain. Trying to follow the recent happenings in the papers, I found myself wondering why the story was only the third, fourth or fifth item of news on that day. We are, after all, talking about major civil unrest in the UK, which is threatening the peace process that has finally brought stability to the lives of so many British citizens. Isn't this is a pretty massive deal? (like a good ex-pat, I then flicked to the Irish Times where, sure enough, the story was given more attention).

If 100 police officers were injured in clashes with civilians in any other part of the UK, headlines would be screaming it. As Kevin Meagher points out in the New Statesman, using baton rounds and water cannon in any other British city would be unthinkable (water cannon was discussed as a tactical option during the London riots, but never used).

A Belfast bus stop … 'Using baton rounds and water cannon in any other British city would be unthinkable.' Photograph: Cathal Mcnaughton/Reuters

When rioting followed the decision of the Parades Commission to place restrictions on loyalist marching bands last summer, I felt the same way. Sixty-seven police officers were injured and I couldn't understand why it wasn't being covered properly in the mainstream British media – was I missing a trick? At least Michael White's recent piece on the hoo-hah over horsemeat as Belfast burned has convinced me that I'm not just imagining things.

So why the averted gaze? One English friend reckons that while equal weight should be given to violence in all parts of the UK, unrest in Northern Ireland is less surprising and shocking, because there's awareness of the region's complex history. This statement resulted in my pulling up Wikipedia and making him read all about the Battle of the Boyne. My point was that the history of Northern Ireland is British history: it's the history of the British crown, the history of the United Kingdom. Surely an awareness of it should deepen the resonance of Northern Irish conflicts for British people? Violence in Northern Ireland might not be as surprising as in other parts of the UK but I'm not surprised when I hear that David Cameron has chewed another limb off the NHS – and I still want it reported prominently in my newspapers.

The conversation made me consider that a lack of education in history might be the problem. In Ireland, we're practically force-fed this stuff in school – and maybe that's why events up north seem real to us. Maybe that's why, as an ex-pat, I hunt down coverage of what is happening on my native island but in my adopted state.

Another friend suggested that British people don't like to acknowledge the religious sectarianism and fundamentalism homegrown on British soil: it's much easier to locate politico-religious conflicts far away – something that the Taliban might take part in, or something that might affect the Israelis and Palestinians. I think this is astute: conflict in Northern Ireland messes with Britain's view of its civilised, mainly secular culture, making Northern Ireland an "elsewhere" where events, including the use of water cannon against civilians, are treated differently.

Great Britain is unwilling to meet Northern Ireland's eyes. Which is a shame, because British people could learn a lot by taking a long hard look at it all. 2012 marked the centenary of the Ulster Covenant, a declaration of loyalty to the UK signed by half a million people; Ulster loyalists are still this devoted to their British identity. And, like a nonchalant lover strongly pursued, the UK needs to face up to what that means.