I’m writing this on my father’s birthday – he’s in his late seventies now and, blessedly, in good health. Nevertheless, it’s a reminder of how quickly time passes, because in my memories of my childhood he will forever be a man in his thirties or early forties and the prime of his life, much as I am (just about) now. When you write about politics and current affairs (the clue is in the name) for a living, you tend to focus on the very short term and forget that, absent a car accident or a coronary, you’ll be living with the consequences of decisions made today well into your retirement.
I think this is one of the elements of the immigration issue in Ireland that is causing significant alarm without ever being clearly articulated. We talk at length in Ireland about capacity issues and the strain being placed on local resources – indeed I am as guilty as anyone there – but ignore the considerable anxiety people feel about whether our country is being demographically changed beyond all recognition. Is a country where, for arguments sake, 40% of the population originates from abroad really Irish any more, or is it simply a country where the bare majority of people have Irish heritage? What impacts does that have on our language, our music, our interpretation of history, or even our identity?
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