Hardcore for Nerds

"Why sneer at the intellectuals?"*
punk music, left politics, and cultural history - previously found here.
contact: gabbaweeks[at]gmail.com (sorry, no promos/submissions, thanks) or ask
Dublin, Ireland. 24, male, history graduate
HFN | HFN 2011 HFN 2010 hfn2k9 HRO 2k9 Hoover Genealogy Project | Hitler Runoff | @HC4N
*from the title of a review of Arthur Koestler's Arrival and Departure by Michael Foot, Evening Standard, Nov. 26, 1943.
May 22
Permalink
1960 not 1970! Bah.

Wikipedia actually says 1956… but I’m going to ignore either date in favour of Dana’s winning Irish entry ‘All Kinds of Everything’ in 1970 being the beginning of Eurovision - Year 0 as it were. Athough that neglects our first entry, Butch Moore with ‘Walking the Streets in the Rain’ (1965) or Dickie Rock (1966).

I was wondering should I check the date - guess I need to do that with Judt more often. It could just have been an (especially bad) editing error, since 1956 is almost fifteen years before 1970. Since it was a chapter on the 1970s, though, to claim/imply it began in that period is rather egregious.

judt history
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Perhaps the most widely celebrated object of ridicule was the ‘Eurovision Song Contest’, an annual television competition first broadcast in 1970. A commercial exercise glossed as a celebration of the new technology of simultaneous transmission to multiple countries, the show claimed hundreds of millions of spectators by the mid-Seventies. The Eurovision Song Contest - in which B-league crooners and unknowns from across the continent performed generic and forgettable material before returning in almost every case to the obscurity whence they had briefly emerged - was so stunningly banal in conception and execution as to defy parody. It would have been out of date fifteen years earlier. But just for that reason it heralded something new.

Tony Judt, Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945, ‘Diminished Expectations’, 483

GO JEDWARD!

[edit: Eurovision was first broadcast in 1956, not 1970]

judt europe pop eurovision 70s history jedward
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May 20
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Tim Hecker, Hatred of Churches I-III

So the Tim Hecker gig in the Unitarian Church on Friday night was really amazing. I don’t know how to put the intensity of the experience into words, although I really want to try. In the meantime, here are some texts that contain some ideas, that are bouncing around my head…

Ravedeath, 1863:

“It is interesting to note that in 1856, John Henry Newman’s Catholic University Church was completed just around the corner on the south side of St Stephen’s Green in a very different style, that of an ancient Italian basilica. Both Gothic Revival and Greek Revival styles were popular among architects in this period, when there was a spiritual revival in both Catholicism and Protestantism and a reaction to 300 years of obeying a set book of classicial rules. George McCaw, an architect and member of the Dublin Unitarian congregation, has written that Darwinism played a large part in the swing to this Gothic style. Churches had to meet the challenge of science and this led to a desire to return to a style that was seen as uncorrupted by modern civilisation. Gothic art and architecture were seen as the expression of the Church, not as it had been secularised, “but having the true faith with its emotional appeal and air of mystery.””

Our Church Building - Dublin Unitarian Church

Ravedeath, 1972:

“If you buy into the concept of Ravedeath, 1972 as an examination of music threatened by technology, there are pretty clear threads that pop up over the course of the record to support that. For one, it seems that the organ sounds Hecker captured back in that Rejkjavik church represent a certain purity of sound and that the digital noise battering it throughout act as the enemy, the corrosive effect. There’s an ongoing struggle between the two that’s mirrored in the menacing song titles and gripping cover art. It’s important, then, that the album closes with “In the Air III”, a track that features almost no interference whatsoever, just the plinking organ by itself. If I’m reading it right, it feels like Hecker’s point is that music, in its purest form, survives no matter what you throw at it.”

Pitchfork - Album Review

“If Ravedeath, 1972 is, in the creator’s term, an attempt at secular church music, it is a reminder that such church music was always an attempt to transcend the profane, and the mundane, ad majorem […] gloriam.”

HFN 2011 - 3: Tim Hecker - ‘Hatred of Music I’ 

Ravedeath?, 2012

What do you dig about playing in churches?

TH: It’s a mixed bag, because it’s a chance to play a great space that people associate with spiritual or transcendental states. But I’m not really someone that attempts to promise that kind of same mindframe, as in, you take the religion out of the music and you can still achieve that kind of promise of deities or whatever. I think that it’s often used as a… Sometimes it’s a fraught, kind of laden world of performance that I think can be really dubious, but it’s also super fun to almost desecrate an instrument that for 500 years has been associated with God. But prior to that, it was not at all. It was a deeply secular musical instrument.

Does ‘rave’ have anything to do with religious rapture?

TH: I’m not sure. The title itself was written late at night in an iTunes information panel when I was doing demo mp3s, and it was almost like a Ouija board form of automatic writing that just happened in the field. The title I just wrote down as a joke almost, and it kind of stuck. I think it started from some imagery I’d seen of a rave disaster in L.A. where 30,000 people crashed a fence, and there were candy ravers with blood all over their faces. Something like that. It’s not at all related to the imagery of the album, but there’s some sort of collusion that didn’t make sense and made perfect sense at the same time.”

The Quietus - In Darkness More Than Anything: Tim Hecker Interviewed

tim hecker live dublin history
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May 16
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Eurocrisis? What Eurocrisis? Or rather, an excuse to reread some dark literature of Europe’s political past:

“The Abyss, the sequel to The Burned Bramble in Manès Sperber’s great trilogy Like a Tear in the Ocean, continues the story of the communist experience and depicts the difficultsies encountered by the men and women caught in the crossfire between fascism and Stalinism. This novel focuses on the personal despair of Doino Faber, the young revolutionary, and on the stunning events that shook the world between 1937 and 1939.
The characters in this book are confronted with the Munich Pact, the occupation of Czechoslovakia, the annexation of Austria, and the Hitler/Stalin Pact in dizzying succession. Shortly after they become immersed in the effects of the invasion of Poland by the Germans and the Russians and of the outbreak of World War II. The men and women living through these upheavals are engaged in a constant struggle, continually grappling with the question of how to be politically effective …”

When I read this while studying Koestler’s novels, I remember this book being very short on action and long on lengthy conversations - which also seems appropriate to the current climate.

Eurocrisis? What Eurocrisis? Or rather, an excuse to reread some dark literature of Europe’s political past:

The Abyss, the sequel to The Burned Bramble in Manès Sperber’s great trilogy Like a Tear in the Ocean, continues the story of the communist experience and depicts the difficultsies encountered by the men and women caught in the crossfire between fascism and Stalinism. This novel focuses on the personal despair of Doino Faber, the young revolutionary, and on the stunning events that shook the world between 1937 and 1939.

The characters in this book are confronted with the Munich Pact, the occupation of Czechoslovakia, the annexation of Austria, and the Hitler/Stalin Pact in dizzying succession. Shortly after they become immersed in the effects of the invasion of Poland by the Germans and the Russians and of the outbreak of World War II. The men and women living through these upheavals are engaged in a constant struggle, continually grappling with the question of how to be politically effective …”

When I read this while studying Koestler’s novels, I remember this book being very short on action and long on lengthy conversations - which also seems appropriate to the current climate.

books europe history Sperber
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That’s definitely a paradigm influencing both the extreme national left and Nazi right. You know: “We’re under the jackboot of the EU,” and this is very, very dangerous, it’s a complete cul de sac. The whole idea of a European Union, however faulty it is, is to overcome the history of this dark continent.

The conversation: Can Europe survive the current crisis? - Comment is free - The Guardian

Excellent piece between a Greek film-maker and a German novelist. 

The Greek voice paints a picture of despair and poverty, and makes a pointed comparison:

“We’re living through our own version of the Weimar Republic. It’s not just an economic crisis, but a fundamental social crisis and a collapse in the very structures of parliamentary democracy.”

and the German writer responds with a perspective which is (in one part at least) pretty accurate for Ireland, as well:

I feel a huge sense of resignation here, especially since the weekend, that our ideas on how to keep catastrophe at bay have failed. We’re not feeling any impact of the crisis here, but people talk about it in a very apocalyptic manner, as if everything is going to break down, the Euro is going to collapse. But it’s really on a level of discourse. The economy here is rising, we are better off than we were three or four years ago, we’ve gained from the crisis – it’s only something that affects our heads, not our everyday life.”

Fucking hell, this is depressing. 

europe eurocrisis politics history
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May 15
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easpageag:

hardcorefornerds:

[…]

“Enoch had been assured that Eamon de Valera’s newly self-governing Ireland was a welcome place for Jews and in some measure he had been well-informed. De Valera was very keen to attract commerce to the new Ireland; being a conventionally anti-Semite Irish Catholic, he naturally assumed that Jews were good at buying and selling and would be an asset to the economy. Accordingly, Jewish immigrants were welcome in Ireland with almost no restrictions, as long as they were willing to work or could find employment.”

[…]

That excuses his errors in dates, but still does little to soothe his cynical assertion that Ireland wasn’t as welcoing as his Grandfather remembered, or that Dev was Antisemitic. By virtually all accounts Ireland has always been at the very least entirely unfazed by Jewish communities, if not active and vocal supporters.

Pretty much every odd couple set up nowadays - one loud and boorish, the other wordy but neurotic - can be traced back to the classic Vaudeville “an Irishman and a Jew” act, which was born out of the close links between the two communities in America. Whitechapel, one Londons shittier ghettos until comparatively recently, has historically been a mixture of Irish and Jewish families (though it’s now mostly Muslim). The list of contemporary suspects in the Jack The Ripper case were all either exclusively Irish or Jewish, and the Battle Of Cable Street (and infamous anti-fascist riot) was noted for a notable Irish turnout.

Also, saying that Dev was cynically allowing Jewish refugees to enter Ireland to promote business is pretty damn unfair. Dev had a pretty long track record of supporting Jewish communities, and more or less stated that it was because they were so hated elsewhere.

Though Catholicism was the constitutionally recognised religion of the state (until the 70’s), Judaism was also specifically mentioned as a religion close to Irelands heart, at Devs insistence. He also personally over turned several court decisions to reject Jewish refugees following WWII. Even the Blueshirts, Irelands pseudo-fascists, were more concerned with beating up the IRA than picking on Jews, and Cosgrave quickly nixed all that when they teamed up to form Fine Gael.

By “virtually all accounts” I assume you’re excluding the Limerick Pogrom of 1904? To be fair, it was an isolated incident, but  I think that there is a level of passive anti-Semitism in Irish history - something De Valera probably had a more reasonable and moderate perspective on, yet he is unlikely to have entirely escaped the Irish Catholic mould that he quite willingly saw himself as preserving. 

The most reliable source I have to hand is Diarmuid Ferriter’s Judging Dev, which is generally seen as quite sympathetic to de Valera, and this is what it says about his attitude in the 1930s:

“De Valera had singled out the Jewish community for special mention in the 1937 Constitution at a time when there were up to 27 Jewish grocery, bakery and general stores on Clanbrassil Street on Dublin, a number of kosher butcher shops an more than a dozen synagogues dotted around the South Circular Road (the Jewish population in Dublin in the 1940s was nearly 6,000); they had ‘a vibrant and rich communal life’ and made a disproportionate contribution to the business and the social fabric of the capital.”

The last part of which isn’t too different from what Judt ‘cynically’ ascribes to De Valera; bear in mind that the chapter in Thinking the Twentieth Century covers the experience of Jews throughout Europe, from Vienna to Poland and the rest of provincial Eastern Europe, which were generally much worse. The point is that Ireland wasn’t bad in terms of anti-Semitism, in fact pretty good by comparison (postwar Britain doesn’t escape criticism either, which is where Judt himself grew up); but neither was it a shining beacon of tolerance, except by default. Honestly, I don’t think he’s trying to attack Ireland in any way (if anything, he does that for our contemporary neoliberal economics and hypocrisy towards EU funds), and seems to accept his father’s experience as pretty genuine - as I say, it would be contrasted with likely experiences in the rest of Europe in the 1930s - and it’s probably his grandfather’s footloose optimism that he’s cynically deflating as much as anything else.

As for the article in the Constitution (44.1.3, since deleted along with the preceding article, 44.1.2, which recognised the ‘special position’ of the Catholic Church) recognises the Church of Ireland, the Presbyterians, Methodists, Quakers, and “the Jewish Congregations” - progressive for the time, of course, but it basically put the faith on a par with the Protestants and Dissenters; hardly religions close to the heart of the traditional Irish Catholic.

(What the association of the Irish and Jews in the popular history of America and Britain has anything to with Irish domestic attitudes I don’t know; it seems rather like using the experiences of African-Americans and Irish-Americans to show that people in Dublin aren’t racist.)

I’m on shaky ground taking Joyce’s Ulysses as historical fact (even shakier not even having read Cormac Ó Gráda’s definitive study Jewish Ireland in the age of Joyce, which probably has something to say as to its accuracy), but the two key points relating to anti-Semitism in that book is that Leopold Bloom is accepted up until he’s not, specifically by a pre-independence nationalist, and the ‘joke’ of Stephen’s anti-Semitic schoolmaster that “Ireland has the honour of being the only country which never persecuted” the Jews “because she never let them in”. That was fiction set in 1904 - but this was the Irish Department of Justice actually said in 1948:

“It has always been the policy of the Minister for Justice to restrict the admission of Jewish aliens, for the reason that any substantial increase in our Jewish population might give rise to an anti-Semitic problem.”

Identical logic, made official (albeit technically under a Fine Gael minister, as of two months, in the First Inter-Party Government). If De Valera later (in the 1950s) overruled that policy, he is to be commended, but it mainly just shows his reasonableness prevailing over an established attitude within the Irish government. More or less the same reasoning is even repeated by Ferriter, after he quotes Ó Gráda as saying:

“‘Irish anti-Semitism existed and traces doubtless still persist, but it was of a relatively mild variety.’ The Irish-Jewish community was small, but well-integrated and many of its members thrived in business, arts and education. Had there been a more pronounced anti-Semitism, it is difficult to see how such integration could have happened.”

Essentially the Jewish community in Ireland was not (typically) persecuted because it was accepted as marginal, but although this is perhaps positive in the context of the rest of Europe, it also means that there is a passive anti-Semitism in Ireland based on relatively unfamiliarity with Jews (as has been the case with other communities of immigrants till more recently, to the extent that Ireland has become a slightly less homogeneous society). I have heard intellectual Catholics say quite idiotic things about Israel and Palestine, and while I’m no fan of the latter’s foreign policy and the more extremist Zionism, the uncritical support for pro-Palestinian groups in Ireland is not unrelated to a certain level of traditional Catholic anti-Semitism - or so it seems to me.

history irish jewish religion judt
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May 14
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thesefewpresidents:

Did you just examine some primary sources and prove Judt wrong about his own family history? Because burn.

Well, yeah…. I guess so. That’s the late Tony Judt of course, though, who was suffering from partial paralysis from the degenerative neural disease ALS at the time of ‘writing’ - this is the book with Timothy Snyder, who notes in the foreword,

“Because Tony and I were speaking to each other in person, there was no time to check references … What appears in print here reflects the spontaneity, unpredictability, and sometimes playfulness of two minds purposefully engaged through speech. But everywhere, and especially in its historical sections, it depends upon our mental libraries, and in particular upon Tony’s improbably capacious and well-catalogued one. This book makes a case for conversation, but perhaps an even stronger case for reading.”

I’d merely intended looking up ‘Yudt’ (a quite unusual name) to see if I could confirm his story and perhaps add some extra information, but then when I looked at the passage again I noticed the De Valera thing, and that the dates didn’t quite fit what I’d found. Putting my history degree to good use!

(Source: hardcorefornerds)

history irish
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Enoch Yudt turned up in Dublin, initially leaving his family behind in Antwerp. He set himself up in business, making ties, ladies’ underwear, stockings: schmutters. In time, he managed to bring over his family, the last two of whom, my father and his older brother Willy, arrived in Dublin in 1932. My father was one of five children. The eldest was a girl, Fanny; then came four boys - Willy (for Wolff), my father Joseph Isaac, Max and then Thomas Chaim (known as Chaim in Antwerp, Hymie in Dublin and then Tommy in Dublin). My father was Isaac Joseph in Belgium and Ireland, Joseph Isaac, in England, or finally just Joe.

Tony Judt, Thinking the Twentieth Century, ‘The Name Remains: Jewish Questioner’, p. 4

Fascinating bit of Judt’s family history intersecting with Ireland; and that of Jewish migration and integration, as well as the cultural adaptability evident in the names, including Yudt/Judt (the former appearing more clearly to be what I believe is the proper pronunciation). Although the vernacular was probably not in use at the time, I can just imagine someone being hailed “Howiya, Hymie!” in Dublin (whether that would have extended to this lad, I’m not sure).

Judt’s grandfather, “a Jewish economic marginal in a state of permanent migration … apparently got by on the black market between Belgium, Holland and Germany” in the 1920s:

“But things must have got a bit warm for him around 1930, probably because of debt and perhaps on account of the impending economic collapse; he was obliged to move on. But whither? Enoch had been assured that Eamon de Valera’s newly self-governing Ireland was a welcome place for Jews and in some measure he had been well-informed. De Valera was very keen to attract commerce to the new Ireland; being a conventionally anti-Semite Irish Catholic, he naturally assumed that Jews were good at buying and selling and would be an asset to the economy. Accordingly, Jewish immigrants were welcome in Ireland with almost no restrictions, as long as they were willing to work or could find employment.”

The only problem with this story is that de Valera only came to power in 1932, following Fianna Fáil’s first general election victory (during which, incidentally, the incumbent Cumann na nGaedheal party portrayed them as Communists). So maybe he came a little later than implied, or there’s some retrospective analysis and poetic licence to his reasoning. 

I’m pretty sure the ‘Yudts’ were in Dublin, though - I looked up the Irish Times archive (accessible in full in Irish universities and public libraries) for the dates mentioned (from c.1930 to 1936 when, “after the family business had failed in Dublin, my grandfather’s brother, who had settled in London, invited him to England. And thus my Yudt grandfather transposed his economic incompetence back across the Irish Sea.”) and found several mentions of court cases with a Yudt as a party. Several date from 1936, but also one from November 1937 mentioning a Yudt “trading as The Abbey Tie Co.”, so either another Jewish schmutterer of the same name, or again he has the dates a little early. Especially as on November 19th, 1936, a boxing report under the headline “Jewish Club defeats Trinity”, an “I. Judt. (J.)” is recorded as having beaten a “W. Hunter” of High School in the Juveniles section - surely his father, of whom he goes on to say:

“He recalls Ireland as idyllic. The family were tenants in a big house just south of Dublin, and my father had never seen such space and greenery. Coming from a Jewish tenement in Antwerp, he and his family had landed in what must have seemed the lap of luxury, an upstairs apartment in a small manor house, overlooking a field. His memories of Ireland are thus entirely colored by this sense of ease and space, and almost completely unclouded by recollections of prejudice and hardship.”

(Of course there were tenements in Dublin city itself, and still would be for three decades, but even today Dublin changes into fields quite quickly as you leave it. In fact, immigrants today are quite likely to find themselves in a west Dublin housing estate looking out over fields, first built to rehouse people from those inner city tenements.)

judt irish history dublin
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May 09
Permalink irish history politics uk
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easpageag:


A denouncement of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, painted on a wall of the Harland and Wolf shipyard in Belfast, Northern Ireland in 1985.

This is … an interesting set of graffiti. Largely (at least from our point of view) because it comes from a Republican.
No matter which political ideology you wish to subscribe to, Thatcher was a liar. But there are several lines which need to be read between here. Harland And Wolff attracted a predominantly Protestant workforce, and not just Protestant, but Protestant Unionist. Considering H&W were situated deep within Protestant Unionist lines (especially by the 80’s, when Thatcher was in Power) the odds are that this was a message written by a Protestant Unionist, designed to be read by a Protestant Unionist.
Of course, we could be totally wrong in our reading of this picture (and some context would never go amiss) but we think this is a kind of interesting artifact. The typical lines drawn in Northern Ireland are between those who want to be Irish and those who want to be British. But as we’ve posted before, those who wanted to be be Irish did not (necessarily) want to succumb to the repression inherent in the Republic, and by the looks of this sign, those who considered themselves British did not want to concede that whoever was in power in Britain held the best views on how to run Britain.
As we’ve always said, Northern Ireland is a fucked up and weird place, that can’t just be boiled down to simple divisions like so many history books and tv movies want you to believe.

I’m guessing the context is the 1985 Anglo-Irish Agreement signed by Margaret Thatcher and Garrett FitzGerald, which was rejected by Unionists in part because it gave the Republic of Ireland an advisory role in the government of Northern Ireland. We tend to remember Thatcher’s intransigence - ‘No, no, no’ - more, but it wasn’t everlasting - hence the ‘liar’ and ‘traitor’ from the Unionist perspective. It’s certainly not a pro-Republican statement.
One of the basic factors to know about the conflict in Northern Ireland is, I think, the degree of separation between (Ulster) Unionists and mainland British opinion. It’s the same in any colonial or semi-colonial situation - e.g. the pieds-noirs of French Algeria, and metropolitan France. There was always a strong alliance between Unionists and the Conservative Party, but their interests were never identical and almost by definition hardline Unionism is an extreme position of Conservatism - hence for a period in the late 19th century there was a separate Conservative Unionist Party in British politics; or that one of one of the more vocal opposers of Thatcher’s decision to sign the agreement was the anti-immigration conservative Enoch Powell, who became an Ulster Unionist MP in 1974 (a fact I had forgotten until just now).
British identity can survive without Northern Ireland (as it has done without the rest of Ireland, or India, or the idea of Empire) and while the opposite is, of course, not really true for Ulster Unionism, there is a separate identity there based on being in Ireland for hundreds of years (and being very Protestant at the same time). The centenary of the 1912 Solemn League and Covenant, to keep Ulster British, poses the challenge of how to maintain that identity in a way that recognises the practical reality of power-sharing, the moral lesson of the Troubles, and perhaps also the peripheral relevance of nationalism to a globalised world (or an increasingly integrated Europe). Something about the eagerness - and unintended irony - with which the production of the ostensibly unsinkable Titanic by the (Protestant-dominated) Harland & Wolff shipyards has been celebrated I think points to a certain urge to avoid or overcome complexity, although ideally the aim should be to embrace it.

easpageag:

A denouncement of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, painted on a wall of the Harland and Wolf shipyard in Belfast, Northern Ireland in 1985.

This is … an interesting set of graffiti. Largely (at least from our point of view) because it comes from a Republican.

No matter which political ideology you wish to subscribe to, Thatcher was a liar. But there are several lines which need to be read between here. Harland And Wolff attracted a predominantly Protestant workforce, and not just Protestant, but Protestant Unionist. Considering H&W were situated deep within Protestant Unionist lines (especially by the 80’s, when Thatcher was in Power) the odds are that this was a message written by a Protestant Unionist, designed to be read by a Protestant Unionist.

Of course, we could be totally wrong in our reading of this picture (and some context would never go amiss) but we think this is a kind of interesting artifact. The typical lines drawn in Northern Ireland are between those who want to be Irish and those who want to be British. But as we’ve posted before, those who wanted to be be Irish did not (necessarily) want to succumb to the repression inherent in the Republic, and by the looks of this sign, those who considered themselves British did not want to concede that whoever was in power in Britain held the best views on how to run Britain.

As we’ve always said, Northern Ireland is a fucked up and weird place, that can’t just be boiled down to simple divisions like so many history books and tv movies want you to believe.

I’m guessing the context is the 1985 Anglo-Irish Agreement signed by Margaret Thatcher and Garrett FitzGerald, which was rejected by Unionists in part because it gave the Republic of Ireland an advisory role in the government of Northern Ireland. We tend to remember Thatcher’s intransigence - ‘No, no, no’ - more, but it wasn’t everlasting - hence the ‘liar’ and ‘traitor’ from the Unionist perspective. It’s certainly not a pro-Republican statement.

One of the basic factors to know about the conflict in Northern Ireland is, I think, the degree of separation between (Ulster) Unionists and mainland British opinion. It’s the same in any colonial or semi-colonial situation - e.g. the pieds-noirs of French Algeria, and metropolitan France. There was always a strong alliance between Unionists and the Conservative Party, but their interests were never identical and almost by definition hardline Unionism is an extreme position of Conservatism - hence for a period in the late 19th century there was a separate Conservative Unionist Party in British politics; or that one of one of the more vocal opposers of Thatcher’s decision to sign the agreement was the anti-immigration conservative Enoch Powell, who became an Ulster Unionist MP in 1974 (a fact I had forgotten until just now).

British identity can survive without Northern Ireland (as it has done without the rest of Ireland, or India, or the idea of Empire) and while the opposite is, of course, not really true for Ulster Unionism, there is a separate identity there based on being in Ireland for hundreds of years (and being very Protestant at the same time). The centenary of the 1912 Solemn League and Covenant, to keep Ulster British, poses the challenge of how to maintain that identity in a way that recognises the practical reality of power-sharing, the moral lesson of the Troubles, and perhaps also the peripheral relevance of nationalism to a globalised world (or an increasingly integrated Europe). Something about the eagerness - and unintended irony - with which the production of the ostensibly unsinkable Titanic by the (Protestant-dominated) Harland & Wolff shipyards has been celebrated I think points to a certain urge to avoid or overcome complexity, although ideally the aim should be to embrace it.

(Source: fyirishhistory)

irish history uk
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