The attempted rejection of Comparison when it comes to Northern Ireland—that is, the rejection of history, of naming the Occupation Administration as a settler colonial project, an ongoing act of violence—has as a quite natural corollary the need to encourage the promotion of a new species of vocabulary, the specimens of which remind the observer of those animals of mixed breeding who are unable themselves to bear young. So we have proximity talks, parity of esteem, not to mention the peace walls that, in a sense, unite the divided population; in fact each one of these blunt instruments has been used in frozen conflicts elsewhere; other places, other wars. The rejection of Comparison can never be total: it is itself a tool, although one wielded readily and regularly. The Peace Industry has thrown up many people who willingly travel the world to spread the Example offered by Northern Ireland to intractable conflicts elsewhere, though one suspects that the first rule is to act like all parties are present on the same terms, it being impolitic to start off by pointing out the settler status of those across the table.

We have had the Commission on Decommissioning and the confusing admission that the London government has “no selfish strategic or economic interest” in the part of Ireland that it nevertheless claims as part of its own country. In this context it is not so unusual to see a publication from a UK public body remarkably referring to both majority communities; sense takes a second place here to usage itself, a kind of careful communication that may strictly be described as being linguistic, but which really comprises a kind of non-language: words designed to pose no threat to Peace; phrases in which signification deliberately does not take place.

One galling feature of the politics of the Wee Province—less a feature now than an item of furniture welded to the floor, about which everything must be arranged—is the right of an English politician to decide on the timing of a referendum on Unification “if at any time it appears likely to him [sic] that a majority of those voting would express a wish that Northern Ireland should cease to be part of the UK and form part of a united Ireland”. No one can recognise as just this right for a foreign politician to decide on a whim our Future State; this would be the case even were it not for the fact that the Viceroy for Part of Ireland is customarily given to the most abject of English politicians. There have been eight Viceroys during the Reign of Conservatism that started in 2010 (there being no shortage of abject English politicians); it is generally held to be a punishment for which mercy will be shown after only a short period, or on the other hand a means of reasonably swift execution. 

The Irish Government must instruct the English Government as to when such a referendum is to be held. The fact that the Partitionist Party is opposed to unification is no excuse; as the Government they must prepare for things that do not form part of the party’s policy, in the way that they might prepare for other things that they do not want, such as floods (although they do not, of course, prepare for floods, which would be too much like work). In your correspondent’s opinion, Partition is likely to end as suddenly as it was imposed; we must fear the possibility that an English Government will decide to hold a referendum out of boredom, confusion or roguishness. We would then have lost the opportunity to actively end Partition, making unification a symptom of failure: a symptom, in fact, of Partition itself.

Let us reflect on the decision of the English parliament to legislate for basic rights in its claimed territory, as smuggled into the etc of the Northern Ireland (Executive Formation etc) Act 2019. As the extremist DUP refused to countenance same-sex marriage (a transgression that prevented them from being subsumed into the north-eastern branch of the Partionist Party, more than their hatred of the natives; note that Sinn Féin’s attempts to introduce same-sex marriage have always been regarded by the Partionist Party as evidence not of their support for the policy, but of their childish desire to provoke the DUP), the English government decided to do so. The English authorities must also have found out about the crime of failing to provide abortion services to those living under Occupation; not literally a crime of course, the crime, strictly speaking, would be for a woman to actually procure an abortion, or for anyone to carry out that abortion. The belated decision to recognise the rights of people that the London state regards as its own citizens was an extraordinary act not of generosity, but of culpability: a reminder that every legislative failure of the Occupation is the fault of those who sit in the Imperial Parliament: at any point in the sorry and sordid history of Partition, they could have stepped in to protect people from the brutality of the Occupation administration. Of course, as we know well, when they did choose to step in, during the period of immense civil rights protests, it was with the heavy step of military boots. 

This is an echo, at the end of the Union, of its beginning: the Irish were sold the Union as a means of being saved from the grotesque and venal landlord class: Westminster as a strict but sensible guardian, under whose ample skirts the poor Irish could shelter, awaiting the promised lollipop of Catholic Emancipation, achieved mere decades later. It is hard to believe that anyone could have been susceptible to this idea, since the vampiric landlord class were themselves representatives of the imperial regime: Ireland one sector of the web; Westminster the spider at its centre. Probably no one did believe it amongst the Irish poor, but they were likely not the audience for this flattering claim. It can never be the case that the colonial authority will rescue the colonised from the colonisers. This is an absurdity only those in the Imperial Metropolis can allow themselves.