Throughout Brexit negotiations the right-wing British press adopted a particularly nasty flavour of anti-Irishness. Leo Varadkar was characterised as a naive fool, weaponised as a mere pawn of Brussels. The Border was cast as a problem artificially contrived to frustrate the passage of the United Kingdom’s exit from the European Union. And the Irish – in their open consternation at all of this – were allegedly gripped by misplaced hysteria.
It has cooled down a lot since. The ongoing dispute over the Northern Ireland protocol is largely too complex an issue to reduce into jingoistic headlines (though some have given it their best shot); and the more pressing matter of the pandemic has taken up the finite column inches once reserved for potshots at the Taoiseach and Simon Coveney.
It is, as Michael McDowell wrote on Tuesday, hard to determine how much of this sentiment is top-down and how much is bottom-up. Though it seems this particular strain of hibernophobia is a minority concern among the men on the Clapham omnibus. Rather it, by and large, was a pet project of those who found themselves at influential editorial meetings.
Failed attempts to claim it was the Irish – not Brexit itself – that were the real threat to peace in Northern Ireland were not indicative of a nation at ease with itself
Nevertheless, what united the sentiments regularly trotted out across the front pages was a dearth of charity towards Ireland. Rather than standing up for their interests on the international stage, the Irish government was maliciously trying to thwart Britain’s democratic wishes. Instead of a modern and level-headed statesman, Varadkar was a vicious crony of the European project – a pound shop Macron with none of the credibility of Merkel. These types of Brexiteers chose the worst faith interpretation available to them, and espoused it as gospel truth.
This was roundly (and rightfully) condemned in Ireland. How sad it was to see a country gripped by identity crisis, prone to fits of ill-conceived and insecure nationalist mudslinging. And how worrying it was to observe such an important relationship being yanked at and wrung out from all directions, looking as though it may eventually collapse under the pressure.
One thing became clear above all else: invectives against Varadkar and failed attempts to claim it was the Irish – not Brexit itself – that were the real threat to peace in Northern Ireland were not indicative of a nation at ease with itself or its direction of travel.
But something about this has begun to feel a little familiar. Though not the product of senior editors across the country, an emerging comfort with anti-English vituperation has settled in and made itself at home across Ireland, manifesting itself most recently amid the Euros tournament. Gleeful support of the Danes or the Italians in the final two matches for no other reason beyond the fact they were not English was tedious enough. The palpable delight some expressed at the team’s defeat on Sunday began to look a bit more insidious; who knew so many in Ireland kept their Italian identity hidden for so long?
But standing in sharp relief to this were Simon Coveney and Micheál Martin, both of whom pinned their colours to the mast and came out in support of Team England as the semi-final and final approached. And quickly the complaints poured in. How out of touch? How could Coveney misread the room so badly? Does he not realise that supporting the evil, colonial English is simply not the done thing?
If we really want to condemn the self-obsession and narrow-mindedness of the worst of the Brexiteers, we would do well to avoid it ourselves
This reaction may be disappointing but it is hardly unpredictable. It is a mood that has been festering for quite some time, and there is no more of an opportune moment for it to rear its head than now. And though it would be foolish to claim the stakes are the same between a football tournament and the Brexit negotiations, the intellectual process behind the rhetoric are nigh-on identical: bitter sniping at a neighbour that emerges not from a place of national self-confidence but insecurity.
In fact, with their lack of generosity and inclination to revert to lazy stereotype, the anyone-but-the-English crowd begin to look exactly like many of the Brexiteers they are so quick to denounce. Funny, that.
Coveney and Martin may be lone voices, but they were right not to indulge this base instinct. Instead, they understand that their Irishness is not undermined simply by celebrating Englishness. And they put forward a model of mature diplomacy that says we can cheer on our neighbours at no detriment to ourselves. It is precisely this kind of rhetoric that makes Ireland appear the self-assured nation it is, comfortable with its place in the world and confident in the course it is charting.
Their critics seem happy to brandish petty nationalism in the face of grown-up patriotism. But if we really want to condemn the self-obsession and narrow-mindedness of the worst of the Brexiteers, we would do well to avoid it ourselves. And if Ireland really believes it is none of the things the Brexit press says it is, it ought to behave like it.
Martin and Coveney’s soft diplomacy should not be underestimated in its value. And whether we might expect Ireland to receive the same treatment from Westminster is secondary. Great countries lead by example.