click here for full thumbnails of these murals with descriptions
All of these murals represent contemporary murals from 1981, honoring and commemorating the hunger strike as it was taking place and occupying community and international consciousness. A few motifs dominate these early murals, reflecting the political landscape of the era through both their relevance and their divisiveness. Through both of these means, these murals become unifying forces not just because of their presence in a community, but also because they alienate outside viewers.
This is particularly relevant as an analysis of the overtly Catholic themes and images of a large portion of these murals. The hunger strikers in these images are so emaciated and skeletal that their ribs bulge from their pallid chests, or they appear to be too weak to stand. In many of them, the strikers, whose long hair (as a result of the dirty protest [LINK]) is itself very reminiscent of Jesus Christ, have their arms and legs spread as if nailed to a crucifix. In a few images, the Virgin Mary or Jesus himself are present, watching over and blessing the hunger strikers. Intriguingly, images from subsequent anniversaries of the hunger strike lack any of these religious allusions, and instead tend to depict the strikers as glowing and lively rather than sickly and dying.
These murals also tend to represent more overt images of violence, though at first glance this may seem to be at odds with their religious aspect. However, the common thread here is that the 1981 murals tend to focus on images of suffering, implying that there is something noble about willingly taking on pain. There is a clear link between the theme of martyrdom and self-sacrifice present in this particular narrative of the hunger strike in relation with Catholic rhetoric and iconography, which tends to emphasize the suffering that Jesus endured on behalf of his followers. By taking on a similar pain, an IRA volunteer is reifying both his faith and his commitment to the cause of Irish freedom. By painting images of this pain on the walls of the neighborhood, a community sends a clear signal about what values it wants to see from its young people. It is not a coincidence that once the Troubles die down in the mid-1990s, the visual language of lauding self-inflicted suffering transforms into one of honoring a glossy, joyous version of the past.

