INSTEAD of soft furnishings and family photographs, Red Hand of Ulster flags, plaques commemorating paramilitary group the UVF and other Loyalist paraphernalia adorn the bedroom walls.

An Oath of Allegiance to an organisation calling itself the Scottish Unionist Association, of which Trevor Muirhead and Neil McKenzie were at least early members, also hangs.

Promising to "defend Unionist Scotland from republicans who wish to break up the Union and turn our country into a Catholic country" and "signed" by John Knox and William Boyne, the oath on Muirhead's wall referred to "fiendish republican plots to destroy my heritage" and "swearing to defend my comrades by all and any means necessary".

In another room in the Muirhead home in Kilwinning, North Ayrshire, is a King William of Orange wall clock.

To many beyond the former west of Scotland industrial heartlands, the mementos are anachronisms from Belfast's Shankill Road or Sandy Row.

To others, it is a centuries-old festering sore which dramatically erupted last year when parcel bombs were sent to Celtic manager Neil Lennon, high-profile fan Paul McBride, QC, and the former deputy presiding officer of the Scottish Parliament, Trish Godman, highlighting the continuing existence of a violent Loyalist subculture in parts of modern Scotland.

More than 200 years after waves of Catholic and Protestant Irish immigrants arrived on these shores, and despite the emergence of an increasingly secular Scotland, tribal identities in places such as Kilwinning remain embedded, passed on from generation to generation.

In the trial, Muirhead's daughter Gemma admitted to membership of the Orange Order's Children's Lodge. He had been a member of the Orange Order and the Apprentice Boys of Derry.

According to Professor Tom Devine, Scotland's most prominent historian and expert on Irish immigration and sectarianism, Ayrshire's ties with "the old country" remain strong via football and parades.

He said: "The Troubles never transferred to Scotland but there was gun-running and plotting. The effort existed. It just wasn't very effective."

But why in 2011 were two men immersed in this ideology prepared to take the leap and transfer their hate into action?

Lennon, no stranger to death threats and bullets in the post, was involved in a high-profile and vocal spat with the SFA and had a touchline confrontation with his Rangers counterpart Ally McCoist after a Scottish Cup tie at Celtic Park in March last year. His friend, the late Mr McBride, took to the airwaves to defend the Celtic manager.

The authorities promised to crack down on sectarianism at football, while outgoing Labour MSP Trish Godman wore a Celtic strip on her last day at the Scottish Parliament.

Mr Devine said: "Lennon was a lightning rod. For these people he's an aggressive Fenian upstart from Northern Ireland who doesn't hide his Irish nationalism. The others were Catholic and their very obvious social mobility was causing resentment. The rules were being revised and for these people their old order was no longer the case."

Dr John Kelly a sports sociologist at Edinburgh University, said the common link of three of the four intended targets of the bombs was the SPL club. He said, for Muirhead and McKenzie, that was enough to label their victims militant Irish republicans.

He said: "Celtic has a significant number of fans who are Irish, Catholic and republican and rightly or wrongly these become signifiers of Celtic. For some, Neil Lennon has all these ingredients. Irish becomes Catholic which becomes republican and that's red rags to bulls. It's less about reality than perception. They targeted high-profile people in law, sport and politics, each of whom displayed at least one of these signifiers. In their eyes, Rangers Football Club were under attack and they lashed out at who they viewed as the guilty parties."

According to Mr Devine, this was something which could easily have happened in areas such as Lanarkshire, as much for de-industrialisation as legacy of Irish immigration and continuing links across the North Channel.

He said: "Especially for males in areas of joblessness football has become their surrogate reason for being. The so-called role of Rangers and Celtic has intensified since the 1980s as other sources of identity have weakened."

Jonathan Bannister, of the Scottish Centre for Crime and Justice Research, believes social context played its part and fuels self-perpetuating behaviour.

He said: "After the London Riots we heard how Scotland had more social cohesion. Maybe that needs re-addressed. Social cohesion is not straightforward. If you went to Kilwinning you'd find socially cohesive areas. But this becomes inward-looking and this can have a very negative outcome, especially where it has become disconnected from elsewhere.

"And if deprivation doesn't cause crime we need to look at the individuals. If people behave not as individuals but in line with the history of their particular area and their social identity that can be problematic."

Institutional sectarianism in Scotland died in the 1980s, attitudinal bigotry continues. Even if there was "rampant atheism" in Scotland tomorrow, Professor Tom Gallagher of Bradford University, believes there is an "acceptable level of violence" within Scottish society which could see similar incidents repeated. He believes the death throes of organised Christian religion in Scotland has accelerated sectarian tensions.

He said: "When religious organisations were to the fore there was more restraint. They had a restraining influence. What replaced the church in this vacuum has become far more aggressive and behaviour becomes much more uninhibited. This goes deeper than football, factionalism or quasi-religious rivalry.

"In a country like Scotland where there is a phobia against expressing views, people like Neil Lennon are bound to be on the receiving end of much fury."