One, Two, Skip a Few

They got me as I stepped off the plane.

An officious woman in a yellow safety vest demanded to see my passport. She thumbed it suspiciously then handed it back. I proceeded towards immigration and an officer went through my documents again.

I lingered past the booth and watched a young man approach the same officer and hand him a document. “Speak English,” the cop said. No reply. “Well, if you can’t speak English go sit over there. The translator will come soon.”

I watched this happen to four other people—all were herded into a corner bench airside—courtesy was certainly not the policeman’s forte.

I’ve come into Ireland dozens of times, and this was the most aggressive border control I’ve ever seen—I blame Brexit. The border between Ireland and Northern Ireland is one of the most contentious issues between the EU and UK.

I drove across it twice last week, and in both cases you only notice you’ve changed country because the road signs change color and up north they do miles. England’s greatest paranoia is immigrants using Ireland as an entry point to reach the UK mainland and—horror of horrors—get a job!

Belfast was pullulating with posters, one week before local elections. We’re on the island of Ireland, so the candidates had names like O’Toole, and a few were of the ginger persuasion. I walked past Queens in the early morning sunshine and wondered how the Northern Ireland political landscape might shift, given that this nation voted against Brexit and that the uncertainty about the border and the Northern Ireland Protocol remains.

The British government—whose odious minister for immigration (herself the child of immigrants) is as desperate to reduce the entry rate of foreigners to English soil as British businesses are to employ those who make it—can only check folks who cross north from Ireland at the Irish port of entry.

The land of Céad míle fáilte appeared a thousand times less welcoming than when I last visited—and it’s sad to see the Irish do the dirty work of the English.

The week got too busy for me to write my usual piece here, but I did collate all the articles ever written in these pages—they amount to half a million words—one thousand five hundred pages, or around five books. I’m uncomfortable with all that material sitting on a cloud I don’t control, so from time to time I need to collate and store. But it turns out the wait was fruitful, because today we know how Northern Ireland voted, and boy was it a doozy!

Queens on a rare cloudless morning—a classic old-school university, the pride of Belfast.

The change has been long in coming, but come it will.

It’s been a nightmare week for Boris ‘Party’ Johnson, who saw his conservative party get flogged across England—begorrah! They lost Westminster, for cryin’ out loud. Is there no end to the pain?

It’s likely that the Tories will pull out the long knives—they’re fully cognizant Boris is a numpty, but as long as he can win elections they’ll hold their nose and back him. And of course local elections work like the mid-terms in the US—it’s punishment season, but the Boris bus lost four hundred council seats—so it might be time to unhinge the nose clip.

But all that’s just a drop in the bucket compared to Northern Ireland. Siin Féin (pronounced ‘shin fayn’) has won an historic victory, leading it to power in Stormont, the seat of government in Belfast.

Britain has a history of exporting citizens to particular areas and then calling a popular vote, whereby the majority express their wish to remain allied to the crown. This, along with the decimation of the local population through violence, famine, and emigration, has been a significant part of Ireland’s history. In Northern Ireland, Scottish immigrants were used to create a non-Irish majority. Much like the Afrikaners in South Africa, generations of these families are an integral part of Ireland, and rightly see themselves as Irish.

Nevertheless, the original split between Catholics and Protestants remains, and has been used to explain what the Irish euphemistically call ‘The Troubles’. ‘Tis a fact that Catholics breed faster than protestants—but Sinn Féin is still at twenty-seven as I write, with two seats open—the Alliance seems to have stolen votes from the hardline DUP. Then again, Sinn Féin started life as the political arm of the Irish Republican Army.

The upshot of all this is that the new ruling party, whose agenda includes the unification of the island of Ireland, will push hard for a referendum on unification. I’m not sure they can win it, but mayhem is to be expected.

So, another Big Brexit Bonus, to roll with the Boris Alliteration Discourse. Or in a nutshell…

Triple B for BAD.

The India Road, Atmos Fear, Clear Eyes, and Folk Tales For Future Dreamers. QR links for smartphones and tablets.

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