Over the weekend there was a little flurry of controversy over an alleged communication between the US State Department and the Irish Government.
The Sunday Times, in a report by Patrick O’Donohoe, carried news that the US administration might consider imposing visa restrictions on Irish state officials (specifically, officials in Comisuin na Mean) if Ireland started to impose restrictions on the free speech rights of American internet platforms based in Dublin.
This is, of course, and we should make no bones about it, an infringement on Irish sovereignty. Ireland as an independent country is perfectly entitled to make and impose its own laws, and to expect all of those who live and do business here to abide by Irish laws.
The problem, of course, is that sovereignty is only a valuable or a meaningful thing if you can enforce it. The other problem is that sovereignty is not by itself an entitlement to wealth.
Thus, the pickle that Ireland finds itself in: The European Union would like Ireland to impose “European values” when it comes to free speech. The United States, which is the home country of most of the companies on which these “values” would be imposed, takes a very different view to that of the EU. The European Union could impose fines upon us. The United States could – with more difficulty, but without it being impossible – take the companies away from us altogether.
There is no doubt whatsoever about what the Irish Government would like to do. It is the entirely settled view of the Irish Governing classes that free speech is an entirely bad thing, or at least that it is an entirely bad thing when that free speech is not confined to state-funded media organisations and the occasional left-wing protest. Talk to anyone in a position of relative privilege in Ireland for five minutes, and concern about “the future emergence of a far-right party” will surface. Ask them what they think is driving it, and they will all tell you that it is Elon Musk’s fault, and not the fault of anything the Irish state has done. This is the settled, almost unanimous, view.
However, it is also the settled view of the Irish Governing classes that Ireland’s economic miracle is dependent entirely on US investment. This is why the annual Shamrock Ceremony in the White House is invested with almost religious significance by the great and the good: That fifteen minutes with the American President – an event of almost entirely no import for the holder of the Oval Office – is the most important fifteen minutes in the career of any Taoiseach. Whatever Micheál Martin does for the rest of his career, some columnist will greet the ending of that career by noting that he “handled Trump adroitly in difficult circumstances”.
For all their moral preening, our rulers and their associates in the chattering classes know full well on which side the Irish batch loaf is buttered.
In an ideal world, this present problem is not one that Irish politicians would have to confront. The ideal Irish solution would simply be to wait for Trump to depart office and to be replaced with a Democrat in the White House – preferably one who had no love whatsoever for Mr. Musk or any of the other “tech bros” who have become such champions of free speech. Then, Dublin could unleash all sorts of regulations on social media safe in the knowledge that the American elites, hemmed in in their own country by the first amendment, would quietly approve. There would not be a problem.
However, the European Union, being something of a larger beast, would rather have this fight now. And it would rather use little old Ireland as the advance guard, sent in first to test the ferocity of the American cannon. It, too, has leverage: Ireland’s economic value to the US and its companies comes directly from this country’s access to the EU single market.
So, what to do?
I ask that question not as a free-speech ideologue, but as a patriotic pragmatist. What can the Irish Government do that appeases both the Trump administration and Brussels?
Probably, the solution is to drag its feet. To express a preference for the European position, and a vague intention to act on the European position, while constantly finding administrative delays and legislative roadblocks to action. This would not be a new thing for the Irish state, which excels at nothing so much as it excels at dragging projects out interminably and making it almost impossible to get anything done. It is also the formal approach that was taken to the last attempt to introduce “hate speech” legislation: The whole thing was sent away to be “reviewed and amended”, you will recall, before being quietly shelved altogether.
Do not be surprised, then, in the coming weeks and months, to see a few “consultations” start to be announced. These consultations will involve “stakeholders”. And possibly an international review of “best practice”. There may be Oireachtas hearings and lengthy debates. If we are really desperate, there could even be a citizen’s assembly. In the meantime, Irish politicians can do their most favourite thing in the world: Have a national debate about a problem, getting plenty of airtime, expressing very sensible liberal views, and not having to actually do anything because the debate never ends.
I could of course be wrong. But I can tell you that in Dublin, there is very little eagerness for another big fight over concrete legislation restricting speech – especially if so doing makes little old Ireland a target for the vengeance of the US administration. Especially when there is a President in office who might wake up one morning at 4am, pick up his phone, and announce 300% tariffs on Irish-made butter, whiskey, and pharmaceuticals.
If Dublin has to choose between its principles and its pocketbook, there will only ever be one winner. As such, the objective of Irish policy over the next while will be to avoid the choice entirely.