Not that anyone in the Republic will have noticed, but a cheer or two might be in order for words unsaid of late in Northern Ireland, and words said differently, writes Fionnuala O'Connor
The South versus the Republic, Northern Ireland versus the North and Derry versus Londonderry can all still raise hackles. But the heat has mostly gone, as witness the fact that no one north of the border seemed to care about a fairly central aspect of the Aer Lingus row: the airline's various characterisations of its new UK hub.
Dermot Mannion at one point claimed that the move to Belfast encouraged "the growing economic relationship between the north and south of the island of Ireland". At other times there was more emphasis on Belfast's foreignness, less care for sensitivities about unfinished national business. Could Belfast International Airport truly be not only "outside the jurisdiction" but also outside "Ireland"? Many northerners were so pleased to have pinched Shannon's Heathrow route that no amount of rash political geography could insult them. In any case they may have thought - though strenuously not said - hasn't the Taoiseach on at least one recent occasion used "Ireland" when he meant the Irish Republic?.
Until fairly recently, reference to the southern state as "the country" would have stung nationalists - who would also have found it next to impossible to call Northern Ireland a country, as unionists do habitually.
How can it be a country and also part of two countries, some would fume and perhaps still do, and how can 26 counties deserve the name Ireland? It used to go without saying that a decision which pleased nationalists displeased unionists, and vice versa. On balance, the former are probably much more pleased than not by the Aer Lingus move but there is little doubt about unionist pleasure at the promise of jobs, likely new business. and perhaps most of all by the restoration of the link from the North's first airport to London's first airport. The prospect of planes labelled with shamrocks and the names of Irish saints could not spoil the moment.
It takes not just small-mindedness but maybe a quantity of anger and anxiety to police terminology. A quantity of anger has gone soggy. Stormont has as yet made no decisions that require significant give and take among the power-sharing parties. Coasting along behind arrangements largely made earlier by direct rule ministers and civil servants may be unambitious, but it certainly keeps temperatures down.
The first broadcast reference to "Northern Ireland" by a Sinn Féin minister in the current line-up cannot be far away, but it will slip out without preliminaries and, perhaps, without much reaction. The place may remain part of the United Kingdom. Only the dourest of beings insist that they still live in the "occupied Six Counties". From being a term which affirmed a resented political reality, "Northern Ireland" some time back mutated into a neutral name on a map. For many under the age of 30 or even 40 who might still routinely say "the North" but unthinkingly use Northern Ireland as an alternative, there may not even have been a sense of transition. What else were they to call it? Some names still force allegiances to the surface. The jokey "Stroke City", the evasive "Maiden City", the ornate "capital of the North-West" all waltz around the choice between Derry/Londonderry, a clumsy hyphenate now almost a name in itself. The argument is somewhat of a sham fight.
Protestant inhabitants who grew up referring to their birthplace as Derry, at least in the unselfconscious company of co-religionists, insist that by changing the council name from Londonderry the nationalist-controlled council has made them strangers in their own city. The Apprentice Boys of Derry have never bothered to change their name, however.
Reactions were instructive when a confused Canadian recently ended up on the meandering train route west from Belfast - rather than the faster direct bus, because a transport official told her that Derry did not exist.
Translink humbly apologised. The loudest complaint came not from a Sinn Féiner but from SDLP politician John Dallat who said several other tourists had similar experiences and wanted more from Translink. He did acknowledge that the problem was "perhaps" shrinking.
And Gregory Campbell, the DUP MP for East Londonderry, who has pushed to change the name back to "Londonderry Council", began by saying that he knew of people looking for transport to Londonderry who were asked did they not want Derry instead. He added, however, that there was "no sense in this. It is politically motivated for the most part. We should be facilitating tourism, not deterring it". Mr Campbell's instincts are usually those of his voters.
And in this new age, it could be that the slowness of the train west is what most exasperates inhabitants of the little city at the end of the line.