In this season of goodwill, let us give thanks that there is one thing on which both left and right agree: globalisation is broken.
The left will say “we told you so” as it began the anti-globalisation movement in the 1990s, almost as soon as the Cold War ended. The main targets then were the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank (to which Paschal Donohoe recently defected) with their neoliberal agenda and their global push to privatise public goods.
The 2008 financial crisis created another wave of anti-globalisation. Campaigns such as “Occupy Wall Street” and “We are the 99 per cent” rallied against inequality and the democratic deficit at the heart of global capitalism.
Conservatives have since emerged as some of globalisation’s most strident critics as the impact of highly mobile capital on society is laid bare in the form of shuttered factories and hollowed-out communities. Perhaps the best-known anti-globalist today is tariff-happy United States president Donald Trump. He is promising more control over the movement of people, goods and services into and out of America, even if his own personal business interests in hotels, retail and crypto know no borders.
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There has been a plethora of books on the subject over the past 12 months, and into the maelstrom arrives a rather idiosyncratic Irish take on the subject. Journalist and researcher Eoin Lenihan’s Vandalising Ireland: How the Government, NGOs, Academia and the Media are Engineering a New Globalist Ireland (Western Front Books) has been a surprise strong performer in the pre-Christmas publishing market – driven to some degree by publicity on the social media platform X.
Eoin Lenihan on how Ireland was 'vandalised'
Eoin Lenihan joins Hugh to discuss his bestselling book Vandalising Ireland. In the book Lenihan sets out his argument that the choices made by successive governments, on issues from migration to the economy, have destroyed the country.
The book is part critique and part manifesto. It criticises the direction Ireland has taken in recent decades, claiming “authentic, grassroots Irish culture and identity is facing an existential threat”. It goes on to argue that “Ireland needs an electable and inspiring right-wing political alternative”. And it makes a series of what some might see as unrelated policy recommendations, including tougher migration laws, the creation of series of indigenous concerts and festivals to encourage Irish people “to learn about their history and culture”, and the promotion of “a laissez-faire” economic model that removes State interference from the marketplace.
At this point, it must be acknowledged that Lenihan devotes a chapter to the media. Journalists can be sensitive about generalised criticism of their work. However, it’s right that media power dynamics are scrutinised.
It was the Mayo journalist and The Irish Times columnist John Healy who first applied the term “Dublin 4″ in the 1980s to capture the idea of a cosy consensus between political leaders and the upper middle-class elite in the press and the professions. In an essay 30 years ago on the evolution of “Dublin 4″, cultural critic Desmond Fennell said it was hard to define membership of this establishment clique – of which he felt an outsider – but it existed nonetheless in subtle forms. A defining characteristic, Fennell argued, was a need for external approval from Europe and the world. “A vision beckons them forward, its name is Luxembourg ... [a country that] has a high standard of living and no unemployment; has divorce and abortion; no mucksavages to contend with.”
Lenihan’s analysis is less nuanced and more conspiratorial. He raises legitimate questions about the number of political reporters over the years who have jumped ship to become political advisers – an issue that attracted wider comment.
He also raises fair questions about the provision of grants through Coimisiún na Meán for local reporting – the scheme has divided opinion in the industry (The Irish Times does not receive such funding). And he highlights how investigative journalism has been undermined by Ireland’s strict defamation laws, singling out Sinn Féin for criticism for the number of lawsuits it has issued against media outlets.
Whether these provide evidence that the media has been forced to toe the official line on issues such as immigration, as Lenihan suggests, is another matter, however.
But let’s return to the key question: where does Ireland go from here?
Last week, economist David McWilliams wrote in this newspaper about how Ireland could become Europe’s renewable Norway if it harnessed the power of our offshore winds. Lenihan also looks to the west for a potential source of economic rebirth. But, rather more controversially, he urges Ireland to “aggressively assert its Atlantic fishing rights and harvest its large untapped oil and gas reserves in its waters” (although he does see a place for renewables too). Lenihan has a number of other recommendations, including that foreign direct investment should be “pruned ... to suit the needs of the native workforce and no more”.
If Ireland wishes to create a better future for its people, then investment in fossil fuels is not the place to start – science tells us so. Informing foreign companies they’re welcome to invest in Ireland only if “they fit the current worker profile of the nation” seems like a very risky move.
Yes, a debate is needed on Ireland’s future. But it should be informed and realistic in a way that considers both the real cost of policy options and the implications of going it alone in a world of interconnected challenges.
We can start that debate from a good place or a bad place. But let’s have the discussion since everyone now seems to be, in one shape or another, against globalisation as we know it.
