If there was one certain impact made from the scenes in Kildare Street on Wednesday afternoon, as the Dáil returned, it should be that no politician can be left in any doubt that there is a section of the population whose anger at the political class is close to boiling over.
For that anger, at least, they cannot objectively be blamed. The country has a housing crisis, exacerbated by an immigration crisis, and a cost-of-living crisis. In some cases, sick children are waiting years on vital operations in a country that spends over twenty thousand million euros every year on a health service – some of which is going on a project to ensure that hospital meals are climate change friendly.
There is also unresolved anger amongst many people about the real – and consciously ignored – damage done to them by two years of lockdowns, while Tony Holohan gets to traipse around the country promoting his book. The national broadcaster, which positions itself as the guardian of national morality, has shown itself to be greedy and incompetent. Those are only the sources of anger which immediately come to mind. Readers, doubtless, could add more.
Amidst this crisis, the Government’s legislative agenda at times approaches farce. The focus is rarely on the actual problems, while months are spent debating entirely foolish and dangerous legislation like the hate speech bill, legislation restricting protests, or in the latest iteration, reducing speed limits.
Anger is justified, and it is understandable, even if the way in which that anger was expressed this week is, in my view at least, absolutely not.
We live in a democratic society, one where the people choose their rulers. Every TD who sits in the Dáil managed to get there by winning a grueling and challenging election and securing the support of thousands of their fellow citizens. It is open to everybody to try to replace them at the next election, or any election thereafter – but to do it, you must be prepared to put in the work and make yourself into somebody who genuinely represents the people and who the people are prepared to put their faith in.
You should also realise that when you jostle, or assault, or impede a TD, you are attacking the representative of thousands of your fellow citizens – some of whom may agree with you about the issues, but few of whom will appreciate your actions. That is aside from the obvious point that people with a good argument rarely need to resort to violence, and the other obvious point that such actions are wrong even if they were, somehow, productive.
It is telling that much of the defence of Wednesday’s antics amounts to fatalism: The idea that participating in democracy itself should be abandoned because the system is somehow rigged against those with objections, so there’s no point trying to oppose the system peacefully. “This is the only language they understand” was a typical sentiment from those defending the insults hurled at politicians.
And yet that fatalism is both counterproductive, and misplaced.
Counterproductive, because nobody wants to join a losing team. Shouting at the world that the normal rules of civic discourse no longer apply to you because your cause is lost anyway only reinforces the entirely false narrative that people with concerns about the state of the country are some kind of fringe minority. Instead of sending a message that “we’re just like you, and we’ve had enough”, violence and threats only serve to tell the average normal person that “we’re nothing like you, and don’t represent you”.
Misplaced, because many, many people may well share your concerns to some degree or other. We have seen, over the course of the past year alone, many communities across the country feeling the need to speak up, and speak out, about the impact of Government policy on immigration in their own communities. Housing is the number one issue in every opinion poll. On hate speech, for example, the Government has been struggling mightily to revive and enact its own bill.
That the vast majority of immigration protests up until now have been peaceful, and respectful, is important to note. But it is also important to note that until this week, nobody had to write the words “until now” in that sentence. It weakens it.
The task of any political movement worth its salt is to translate public openness, or demand, for change into political support for change. Sometimes that has to be done by changing the politicians. Other times, it can be done by persuading the politicians you already have. The left in Ireland have been masters of both for about thirty years, if not more.
Let me talk directly, for a moment, to those involved in Wednesday’s events, or those who think it is somehow offside to criticise them: The future of your own country is not some game that can be won, like a game of football, with a few stiff tackles and a cheering crowd. It is a deadly serious matter, and, if you care about it you should have the decency to treat it as a deadly serious matter.
Organise politically. Talk – not to yourselves, but to your fellow citizens. Find the people who agree with you, and register them to vote. Find the people who only slightly agree with you, and find out what else they care about and how you can convert them fully to your cause. Find out what voters care about – for some it will be medical cards and potholes, rather than the issues that animate you. Be prepared to fix those issues, as well as the ones that keep you awake at night.
If you truly care about your country, then this is what you would do, hard though it may be. No nation has ever been “saved” by a noisy protest on a Wednesday afternoon.
If this is the level of opposition that the Government, and its co-believers, face, then it is not opposition at all. The very people you claim to represent deserve much, much better than the sight of their champions jostling TDs, and threatening to hang them. The other side know how the game is played, and they’re going to keep kicking your asses if you don’t learn, in turn.