There is a lazy pessimism taking over the public conversation. It believes that a political fracture over migration is inevitable. Something has happened in the politics of other European countries, and inevitably the same blister will break out on the body politic here. There is nothing inevitable about it.
I came of age in the 1980s, an era of inevitability. Emigration peaked with over 70,000 people leaving in a single year, inflation reached 20 per cent, unemployment 17 per cent and interest rates 16 per cent. More than 854 people were murdered in apparently endless Troubles. To preserve public morality the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution was overwhelmingly passed, and divorce was firmly rejected. In a 1986 interview with Hot Press, the broadcaster Gay Byrne quipped: “If we had any manners, we’d hand the entire island back to the queen of England at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning and apologise for its condition.” In a country in the throes of depopulation, there was a pervading air of pessimism.
There is justified disquiet that in the aftermath of riots in Dublin, an empty hotel intended for asylum seekers at Rosscahill near Oughterard was set on fire last Saturday night. At the end of November, there was a suspected arson attack on a forklift teleporter at the site of a proposed international protection centre in Rosslare.
Nothing was caught on camera in Rosscahill or Rosslare, so neither the alleged criminality nor the cowardice can be replayed as public drama. Nor was there a mob of opportunist looters terrorising the wider public. Nonetheless, there is a palpable concern that something has shifted in the public mood.
The problem is not that Mein Kampf is widely read in Rosslare or Rosscahill but that small numbers of people are prepared to flout Bunreacht na hÉireann. But that has always been so in Ireland
In reality, the first hundred years of the Irish State is bookended between burning down big houses and burning accommodation intended for asylum seekers. There is an Irish tradition of arson, and Rosscahill was the 11th apparent act of arson directed at migrants or their accommodation. It is the coward’s conflagration of choice.
There is a narrative about far-right ideology that has some truth but is equally a distraction. The problem is not that Mein Kampf is widely read in Rosslare or Rosscahill but that small numbers of people are prepared to flout Bunreacht na hÉireann. But that has always been so in Ireland.
The IRA campaign that lasted nearly 30 years is one example but is curiously partitioned in the public mind as being in a class by itself. More mainstream was violence against Travellers in the 1980s in Tallaght, and the ferocious intimidation of local politicians who would not sign up to the cause.
In the 1980s and 1990s, Concerned Parents Against Drugs was a ground-up community response against an epidemic of drug dealing that led to an explosion of vigilantism, and attempted to replace the rule of law in some urban communities, including Dublin’s north inner city, Crumlin and Ballymun. A different party then, Sinn Féin and its associated IRA provided muscle to enforce the expulsion of drug dealers from communities, and protect anti-drugs activists. It was rough justice, at best, and An Garda Síochána effectively lost control of tracts of our cities.
It used to take days to organise a public meeting but now hours are sufficient. So again, but far from the first time, politics at the edges of our society threatens the centre
Part of the problem Sinn Féin now faces politically is that its credibility in the same communities is based on a folk memory of muscular activism in relation to drugs. A generation later, and in different circumstances, there is a demand for vigilantism again which that party cannot satisfy. Its establishment credentials trump its credibility as an agent of change for anti-migrant activists.
There are new elements now, including social media which gives instantaneity and volume to protest. It used to take days to organise a public meeting but now hours are sufficient. So again, but far from the first time, politics at the edges of our society threatens the centre. This cannot be contained to disadvantaged urban areas, however, and is potentially countrywide. Another context is the forthcoming local and European elections. The three bigger parties face challenges holding council seats, or in the case of Sinn Féin, finding candidates to win the seats opinion polls say they should get.
There was nonsense this week from Fine Gael ministers, especially about the need for better communications with communities about accommodation for asylum seekers. Like the far-right mantra, there is some truth in it but the real communication challenge is between departments and agencies in a Government that belatedly, but not wholeheartedly, embraces accommodation for asylum seekers as a core function of the State. There is now a chance, but probably a last one before the electoral complexion of the State takes on a darker hue, to explain and act at speed.
We were here before with the miasma of misinformation around Covid vaccines. Diehards can never be persuaded, but the hesitant and the concerned should be met halfway. As of now, there is no budget to deliver on Minister Roderic O’Gorman’s plan for State-owned accommodation. There are over 6,000 people in the asylum system who are approved to move on but cannot because they can’t find private accommodation. There is no instant fix, but there needs to be a bells and whistles plan that is fully funded. What is lost sight of is that this is a medium-sized infrastructure problem in danger of imminent political contamination. We have solved more complex problems successfully.
There is a grim Irish tradition of arson, from burning big houses to burning refugee centres
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22.12.2023
There is a lazy pessimism taking over the public conversation. It believes that a political fracture over migration is inevitable. Something has happened in the politics of other European countries, and inevitably the same blister will break out on the body politic here. There is nothing inevitable about it.
I came of age in the 1980s, an era of inevitability. Emigration peaked with over 70,000 people leaving in a single year, inflation reached 20 per cent, unemployment 17 per cent and interest rates 16 per cent. More than 854 people were murdered in apparently endless Troubles. To preserve public morality the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution was overwhelmingly passed, and divorce was firmly rejected. In a 1986 interview with Hot Press, the broadcaster Gay Byrne quipped: “If we had any manners, we’d hand the entire island back to the queen of England at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning and apologise for its condition.” In a country in the throes of depopulation, there was a pervading air of pessimism.
There is justified disquiet that in the aftermath of riots in Dublin, an empty hotel intended for asylum seekers at Rosscahill near Oughterard was set on fire last Saturday night. At the end of November, there was a suspected arson attack on a forklift teleporter at the site of a proposed international protection centre in........
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