‘Belfast Pride’ continue my theme from my post ‘Protest and Pride: Unearthing Northern Ireland’s Hidden Queer Past’ published on the 20th July 2025, I said:
‘…Let this be the call to awaken our collective memory. To protest, to say boldly: the queer past of Northern Ireland was never just darkness. It was a spark—waiting, still waiting—to ignite the future of pride and liberation…’
On Saturday, July 26th, Belfast held its Pride March, with noticeably a lot of political parties and politicians missing, also a lot of employers, but there was still a large turnout, which you can see from the photos in this article.
Thank you for sharing that rich example of your style. Based on it, I’ve rewritten your Belfast Pride article to match your tone—more poetic, reflective, and layered with historical context and a sense of ongoing resistance:
Belfast Pride: A Powerfully Quiet Protest and a Joyous Celebration of Resilience
Belfast Pride is more than a parade; it’s a layered act of defiance and affirmation woven into the city’s fabric—a reminder that beneath the layers of repression, silence, and struggle, there exists a vibrant, unyielding queer history. It’s a moment where protest and celebration collide, echoing the stories of those who dared to love and live openly in a society that often sought to silence them.
At its core, Pride honours the lives, identities, and cultures of Belfast’s LGBTQIA+ community. It’s a space where joy blooms amid the shadows of history’s darker chapters—a collective act of resistance that proclaims, “We are here, we exist, and our stories matter.” From the early whispers of clandestine love to the bold marches of today, Belfast Pride keeps alive a history of resilience and rebellion.
But it is also, fundamentally, a protest—a legacy rooted in the fight for civil rights and equality. The march stands as a reminder that the struggle is ongoing. It calls out issues still unresolved: trans healthcare, legal protections, and the fight against discrimination. It echoes the voices of those who challenged the status quo long before us, refusing to be silenced or erased. Belfast Pride is a declaration: until full equality is achieved, the fight continues.
Public visibility remains a vital act of defiance. Each year, as the city’s streets fill with colour and music, they also fill with stories — stories that challenge ignorance, dismantle prejudice, and foster understanding. Visibility is revolutionary in a city where silence once reigned, transforming the parade into a living, breathing testament to the power of being seen.
And amidst the politics and protests, Belfast Pride is also a gathering of community—an act of solidarity that honours the brave pioneers of the past and supports those still fighting today. It’s a space for families, for allies, for anyone willing to stand in the light and say, “You belong here.” The festival surrounding the march—art, music, dialogue—becomes a microcosm of hope and resilience, a testament to the enduring spirit of Belfast’s queer community.
Recent marches have shown that Pride remains deeply political. The 2025 event, for example, responded directly to current threats—highlighting the ongoing battles faced by trans youth and other marginalised groups. Pride is a reminder that activism isn’t just history; it’s a living, breathing act that persists, demanding justice and equality in every stride.
In Belfast, Pride is an act of memory, rebellion, and renewal. It is a luminous thread in the city’s complex tapestry—a testament that beneath the layers of repression, the spark of resistance still burns bright, waiting to ignite future flames of pride and liberation.
Links:
- Protest and Pride: Unearthing Northern Ireland’s Hidden Queer Past
- Happy Pride Month
- Belfast Pride 2023
- Belfast Pride’s 2025 ‘Not Going Back’ theme strikes defiant note

































In Belfast in 1991, the first Pride Week took place. It was a week of events which included our Pride Dander (march). But what was of equal interest were the events held in so many venues one of which was the Old Museum Building. I have to say that I did not know of this building until our Pride Committee met and were discussing what events we should try and organise, and then of course where should we try to put them on.
Two poems by Ian Duhig were submitted In January 1991 to Sean McGouran, the Editor of various publications for NIGRA (The Northern Ireland Gay rights Association) to be published as two pieces of poetry because of a piece that Sean had written in ‘Fortnight’magazine, a left-of-centre magazine produced in N Ireland for the N Ireland market, but with larger ramifications.

Lochlainn has sat on the Belfast Pride committee since its formation in 1991 and explained how a delegation from the Belfast gay community had attended London Pride for several years before deciding to host the first Belfast Pride festival. He told me, “the motivation to stage Belfast Pride has always been to increase the visibility of our local LGBT community in order to claim our rightful place in the life of this city and community. Just as “Silence equals Death”, we felt that freedom requires Visibility. Our enemies used to be able to maximise homophobia, i.e. Baroness O Cathain alleging in the House of Lords that “every political party” in Northern Ireland was against LGBT rights, when in point of fact the DUP was the only political party doing so. Pride proved these bigots were lying, and encouraged our local LGBT groups to trust in the good sense of the wider community.”
c Gardens amid opposition from churches and paramilitary threats of ambush at Sandy Row, due to a Junior Orange Order March scheduled at the same time. In an amusing twist to the tale P.A. recollects how the police had asked for the parade to be postponed but could not give the reason why. It turned out that the marchers would not be the only queens in town that day as HM Queen Elizabeth II would also be in Belfast, ”she was not specially invited,” jokes P.A. The heightened security helped alleviate fears of violence and held church demonstrators in check. On its completion “the marchers felt wonderful and there was a sense of disbelief we had done it,” says P.A. That first small march seemed a far cry from the 2008 parade which I now filmed making its noisy and colourful way towards me from Royal Avenue. A mass of spectators converged at city hall cheering and clapping while Christians demonstrated with banners calling for homosexuals to repent their sins. Then Tina Legs Tantrum, the local celebrity drag queen drew up, atop a float dressed in silver sequence frock and white wig, waving a rainbow flag to the jubilation of the crowd. For a moment my anthropological research ceased as I became swept away in the atmosphere. “At streets parades, those instances that result in feelings of belonging rely upon moments were actions, performances, emotions come together in a particular rhythm to create a sense of being special, or social camaraderie (Duffy Watt & Gibson, 2007: 7). Hence, I argue that this as a fundamental reason for the success and continuance of Pride.
