
Distributed to Congress by Irish National Caucus
“Another must-read explanation by Fintan O’Toole, as to what is really going on with Brexit—and how England, as some of us always knew, would dump the Unionists/Loyalists/Protestants when it suited.”—Fr. Sean McManus
Northern Ireland is being detached from the UK. Get ready for it
English nationalism is
changing the political architecture of these islands…
A border in the Irish sea has long been a red-line for the DUP but
it seems to be one crossed in the Brexit agreement between
Boris Johnson’s government and the EU.
Fintan O’Toole. Irish
Times. Dublin. Saturday, October 26, 2019
If you pass through Heathrow or any other large British airport, you will
be assailed by large photographic posters declaring
British greatness: Innovation is GREAT; Sport is GREAT; Design is
GREAT, and so on. The tagline, of course, is Britain – all of
these wonderful things are GREAT Britain.
Except that the whole concept is ruined by an awkward interloper. The
copywriters had to add “& Northern Ireland” and that
turbulent province wrecks the pun and deflates the slogan. “Music is
GREAT Britain & Northern Ireland” doesn’t work. It creates a decidedly downbeat
anticlimax.
And the ad agencies seem to be sneakily avoiding it. Last week in Heathrow
I noticed three posters without the dangling appendage: Countryside
is GREAT Britain; Culture is GREAT Britain; Heritage is GREAT Britain.
No “& Northern Ireland”.
It is easy to sympathize – while it seems a bit harsh to imply that the
bucolic splendors of Antrim and Tyrone are not so great, culture and
heritage do become especially touchy subjects when you sail west across
the Irish Sea.
The awkwardness and uncertainty of these posters makes them
inadvertently telling images of a much larger ambivalence. The idea
of Great Britain itself is under severe strain as Scotland seems
destined to move towards another referendum on independence. The
notion of British greatness has been weaponized politically – being
great makes it unnatural and intolerable for Britain to be just
another member of the European Union.
But most dramatically, that tenuous “& Northern Ireland” has never
been so uncomfortable an adjunct to Britishness. It is not just
the advertising copywriters who feel inclined to drop it altogether.
Line crossed
Whatever turns the
Brexit saga takes—and his week’s events at Westminster promise many more
to come—it is clear that what Arlene Foster called a “blood-red line”
has been crossed. Boris Johnson’s breath-taking reversal of his previous
position on the idea of a Northern Ireland-only “Backstop” makes
October 10th, 2019 – the day of his meeting with Leo Varadkar in Wirral –
a watershed in British and Irish history.
On that day, Johnson decided, in effect, that Northern Ireland can be
detached from the British train and placed on a whole other
track. The implications of this for the future of both islands are
profound.
The scale of the volte face is clear if we remember that Johnson, as prime
minister, had vehemently rejected on Unionist grounds even Theresa
May’s deal with the EU that involved a much less radical degree of
separation between Northern Ireland and Britain. On August 19th, he
wrote to Donald Tusk denouncing what was then the “Backstop” as
“inconsistent with the sovereignty of the UK as a State” because “it
places a substantial regulatory border . . . between Northern Ireland and
Great Britain.”
But now he has actually agreed to a vastly more intrusive regulatory and
customs Border in the Irish Sea. If May’s deal undermined the sovereignty
of the UK as a single entity, Johnson’s blew it apart.
Mental separation
This is a bell that cannot be unrung. Whether or not the arrangements for
a unique form of Brexit for Northern Ireland actually come into
being (indeed, whether or not Brexit actually happens) a huge act of
mental separation has occurred.
Johnson was not wrong – the “UK as a state” cannot survive official
endorsement of a Border between Larne and Stranraer.
Functioning, stable sovereign states simply don’t do that sort of
thing. In November 2018, in a rousing speech to the DUP’s annual
conference, Johnson said that if this were allowed to happen, “we are
witnessing the birth of a new country called UK-NI”.
In fact, we are witnessing the birth of a new country called “GB for now and NI
over there”.
The shock is all the greater because the jettisoning of Northern Ireland
is so casual. It is not just that supposedly hardline unionist
Tory MPs were so upfront in saying that, much as they love the union,
England comes first and the DUP must, as arch-Brexiteer Steve
Baker put it, simply “choke down” its betrayal – a slightly nicer
formulation than “suck up”.
It is that even at the highest levels of the British government, there was
little thought given to what a Border in the Irish Sea would mean.
There was a telling moment in the House of Lords on Monday when the Brexit
secretary Stephen Barclay initially claimed that Northern Ireland
businesses would not have to fill out customs declarations to send goods
to the rest of the UK before, after correction from the Treasury,
acknowledging that “declarations will be required”. Johnson subsequently
struggled to explain this in the House of Commons.
That something so basic could be so unclear tells us that we are
experiencing a strange mix of the momentous and the thoughtless.
A fundamental change in the nature of the UK (and thus of Ireland) is
being unleashed, not through a process of careful deliberation, but in
a spirit of pure reckless opportunism. Whatever gets Brexit through the
night is alright. The consequences are for later.
The significance of this shift is hard to grasp because it is not part
of the story most of us in Ireland recognise. Just five years ago, in
any discussion of the future of the UK as an entity, the factors in
play were Scottish nationalism, Irish nationalism and, to a lesser
extent, Welsh nationalism. What was not being discussed was the idea
that English nationalism might be the real destructive force. Yet
its presence was not secret.
In 2012, four years before the Brexit referendum, the Institute for Public
Policy Research (IPPR) published a very powerful report, based on
detailed survey data, that warned that “an emerging English political
identity may over time come to challenge the institutions and
practices of the UK more profoundly than anything happening in the
so-called Celtic fringe”.
The 2011 UK census showed that, even given the option of ticking more than
one box (English and British for example), a majority of people in
England chose to identify as English only. Just 29 per cent of English
people claimed to feel any sense of British national identity. And
what is even more striking is that, in the years before the referendum,
survey data were showing a very strong correlation of English
feelings about what IPPR called “the two unions”, the UK and the EU –
people who identified strongly as English rather than British were
also anti-EU.
The institute warned that “any decision to ignore English discontentment
for fear of guilt by association with right-wing populism is only
likely to further feed such discontentment – and perhaps encourage it to
develop more toxic undertones”.
The warning was, of course, itself ignored. And nowhere more so than
within Irish unionism. One of the many staggering aspects of
the Brexit saga is the decision of the DUP to ally itself to an
English nationalist project that posed such a clear threat to a pan-UK
British identity.
All the evidence both before and after the 2016 referendum was that the
voters in England who identify as British are, by and
large, Remainers. People who support one union (the UK) are very
likely to also support the other (the EU).
Conversely, Leave voters, whatever their political representatives say,
tend to care very little about the preservation of the UK as
an entity. For them, Brexitness is far more important than
Britishness: every poll has shown that Leave voters and Tory party members
find the breakup of the UK an acceptable price to be paid for Brexit.
This was confirmed on Monday, in a new poll and focus-group study of English
participants released by the Tory donor Lord Ashcroft. The
threat that a border in the Irish Sea might pose to Northern Ireland’s
place in the UK is not a big deal for most of them: just over a quarter of
English respondents, and just a third of Conservative Leave voters, agree
that it would be “unacceptable” for Northern Ireland to “have
different laws and regulations from the rest of the UK after Brexit”.
Perhaps even more alarming for Unionists is the general air of English
indifference. The focus group findings are that: “Apart from
the observation that ‘the religious element is very strong’, very few
had any grasp of the dynamics of Northern Irish politics, which
seem complicated and even mysterious to many people. Some were not
even aware that Northern Ireland’s long-term place in the Union
was even an issue.”
When asked whether Brexit makes Irish unification more likely, the most popular response
in the poll was “don’t know”. When asked directly whether Northern
Ireland should remain part of the UK, just 35 per cent said yes, 13 per
cent said no and a remarkable 43 per cent said: “I don’t have a view.”
And when those in this latter category were asked how they would feel
personally if Northern Ireland were to leave, 59 per cent said “I
wouldn’t mind either way” and a further 8 per cent chose “happy to see
them go”.
What has occluded this obvious reality is political piety. English nationalism
is odd in that in has no real political voice. It remains taboo for
any mainstream English politician—let alone a prime minister—to say
that the people of England “don’t mind either way” about that
complicated and mysterious place called Northern Ireland.
But sooner or later politics catches up with popular feeling. And this is
what has now happened. The Brexiteers have now caught up with their
base and made explicit what has always been implicit in the English
nationalist project: Northern Ireland is neither here nor there.
Hence the weird mixture of opportunism and inevitability. Johnson seized
an opportunity to keep his show on the road by cutting the Irish rope
that tethers the balloon of post-Brexit Britain to the EU. But he could do
so because he knows very well that his party and his potential voters
have ceased to regard Northern Ireland as an integral part of their
country. Once they decided that their country was England, there was
already a psychological parting.
Chaotic consequences
This rise of English nationalism was bound to have long-term consequences
– but Brexit has made them much more rapid and chaotic. The chaos
comes from the reality that the separation is not active, not planned
or thought through. It is not a decision to seek a divorce. It is
just a relationship that, on the English side, has gone cold and lapsed
into an unresponsive apathy. That is, for Northern Ireland, even more
dangerous than an upfront decision to eject it from the union. The shrug
of the shoulders is less engaged than the shove in the back, which at
least has to be hands-on.
The great problem for Ireland, though, is that this is not our story. In
the Irish story, a united Ireland might come about as a result of
a long and careful process of reconciliation on the island. But what
we are actually seeing is a whole other movie, made and screened
in England. It is an avant-garde extravaganza that does not bother
with a coherent narrative.
The Brexit project may ultimately be about the English exiting their “two
unions”, the UK as well as the EU. But in neither of these exits is
the desired destination known. Something is being left but it is not at
all clear what will be left behind.
All we can really say for sure is that if Brexit tells us anything it is
that if you ignore deep changes in national and political identity,
they will probably turn toxic. That has happened with English
nationalism – the warning signs were disregarded.
We are now witnessing a sudden and jerky acceleration in what was meant to
be a slow and careful reshaping of the political architecture of
these islands. We had better recognize it and try to deal with it before
the poison of betrayal and abandonment enters the groundwater.
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