On Saturday, December 3, I took the train from Limerick to Dublin. As I walked along the quays, from Heuston Station to O’Connell bridge, I was in high spirits, as if the adrenaline was flowing through my veins. This was because I was heading for a gathering or rally (or call it what you might – even “far-right conspiracy protest”) to make a stand against proposed government hate speech legislation. In these dark times, to me it felt as though I was heading to a meeting of The Resistance. When I arrived at the O’Connell Monument, there was already a small crowd assembled, a few of whom were preparing a sound system and getting ready for the speakers.
Well, the atmosphere was great. I knew nobody there personally, even though I recognised some faces from the online world. We were standing beside complete strangers and reading off the same hymn sheet. We were all of the same mind-set – at least as regards the proposed hate speech legislation and the general Covid business. (There were a handful of annoying Antifa personnel trying to distract from our cause, but they soon ran out of steam.) There’s a real buoyancy at such gatherings, you know you’re among fellow-fighters (all unarmed!). And not anti-religious zealots either: one speaker ended his speech by praying the Our Father, and we all joined in, admittedly with a variety of “signs of the cross” afterwards. His point was that our right to free speech was not granted by any human authority (government or church or whatever), but was inherently a God-given right and privilege, which we ought to enjoy, respectful of others, simply by being human beings.
After the speeches, we walked past Trinity College, then along Grafton Street. I met with other HTL people (Hold The Line; the group I join every Sunday for an hour, to try to awaken people). They were from Bray, and, like the Limerick contingent, were the essence of civility. We encouraged one another. Because we, who are questioning things, are in such a small minority, I consider such gatherings as morale-boosting; you know that you’re not fighting this battle alone; and you see the people around you and you chat with them, and you know that they are not fringe lunatics, but decent people concerned for the kind of society we are quickly becoming. And not only Irish people: at the Dublin rally I met a Latvian woman, and a Polish man; at our weekly HTL in Limerick, there is a Scotsman and an Englishman, and a few Irish.
What was the purpose of the gathering? Fundamentally to try to alert people as to the consequences of this legislation, because, like the Covid business, most people seem to be happily sleep-walking through it, either innocently believing what the media tell them or trying to live in blissful ignorance. To naively believe is, at this stage, inexcusable; to ignore what is going on is, to my mind, negligent.
And still, many otherwise alert people, probably exhausted by the 30 months of the Covid scenario, are now eager for any respite. One person said to me recently, “well, we’re back now to where we were pre-Covid; things are back to normal”. How innocent! How naïve! If there is one thing the powers-that-be have learnt, it is that the majority is easy to manipulate; once a press conference is held and a crisis is announced (especially with a clip of a solemn-faced UN or WHO official making some pronouncement), then most people will comply. That has been one of the great learnings of the past 30 months: how so many people are so gullible and easily deceived.
Among the fliers given out at the Dublin rally, one included this quote: “Who is behind this legislation? Isn’t it ironic that the same world governments and corporations who actively promoted hate towards citizens who refused to take part in medical trials, now want to decide what hate speech is”.
And if this legislation is enacted, I think it will be perilous for many alternative or questioning outlets, just like Gript. Any querying or dissenting voice can simply be accused of being hate speech, and ominous consequences can follow.
As I walked along the Dublin quays heading for the rally, my heart was pumping positively and the adrenaline was surging through my veins; and I returned to Heuston also in buoyant spirits. Any gathering, whether it’s the 6 or 7 at our Limerick HTL or the crowd in Dublin on December 3, is an effort to upset the encroachment of the “new normal”, the “great reset”, which they are so bent on imposing on us. We have to stay strong.