Gareth O'Callaghan: Far-right beliefs in Ireland might make for an interesting election
Members of the public protesting outside Leinster House as Dáil Éireann resumed after the summer break. Picture: Gareth Chaney/Collins Photos
As the dust settles on the scenes outside Leinster House a fortnight ago, the fear of what might happen next is tangible: The propensity for violence. That day was all too clear a sign; that an indiscriminate force is now bordering on the extreme.
Garda sources say they are very concerned, considering the budget will come before the Dáil in 10 days’ time and a large protest is inevitable.
Mock gallows at the last protest were a reminder of the image of the burning cross — one of the most potent hate symbols in the US, popularised by the Ku Klux Klan to intimidate and terrorise.
Henry Ward Beecher, the American social reformer, once said: “The worst thing in this world next to anarchy, is government.”
No doubt, many of those at the recent protest were echoing his sentiments.
Anarchy, however, can be a deadly weapon.
In June 2016, Thomas Mair, an unemployed gardener and extreme right-wing terrorist murdered British Labour MP Jo Cox in Birstall, West Yorkshire. Mair shot the politician twice in the head and once in the chest with a hunting rifle outside the town library. He then stabbed her 15 times.
While attacking the mother of two, Mair yelled, “This is for Britain”, “keep Britain independent”, and “Britain first”.
He didn’t know Jo Cox, but she ticked the boxes of far-right hatred: She was a politician, an influential woman, and a supporter of refugees.
She was murdered in order to advance the cause of Nazism. The judge sentenced Mair to life imprisonment without parole.
Mair had links to six far-right groups, including the US-based neo-Nazi organisation, National Vanguard.
When police raided his home, they found Nazi videos and books, and bomb-making instructions.
His computer showed he had been searching online for information about the Nazi Party, the Waffen-SS, the Ku Klux Klan, matricide, white supremacy, and Norwegian far-right terrorist Anders Behring Breivik.
Mair was an anarchist, a loner who never appeared to have held down a job, and never had a partner. No one knew much about him, and the police still haven’t been able to find out where he got the rifle.
According to the FBI’s website, anarchism is a belief that society should have no government, no laws, no police, no authority whatsoever.
Dietrich Ekart, a founding member of the far-right German Workers’ Party, and precursor of the Nazi Party, once said: “If the light clashes with darkness, there is no making of agreements, there is only a fight of life and death until the one or the other part is destroyed.”
Adolf Hitler acknowledged Ekart as his mentor, and the spiritual co-founder of Nazism, stating that he gave him the philosophy of overcoming “soulless Jewishness” as the basis for a true German revolution that was necessary. Ekart gave Hitler books to read, taught him how to write, and how to speak in public. He also gave him the infamous trench coat.
Ekart believed in the coming of a German messiah who would redeem his country after its defeat in the First World War. He began to see the possibility that Hitler was that person.
Over the years, western Europe has endured the violent repercussions of fascism, with the exception of Ireland.
Not any longer.
Its tentacles are reaching out here, providing a number of bitterly angry people with what they now see as a political rottweiler worth championing.
At the heart of the far-right is the Great Replacement conspiracy theory, a concept promoting beliefs that white people are being replaced by immigrants, Muslims, and other people of colour in their so-called “home” country.
If you view everything that happens in the world through the conspiracy theory lens, then you most likely have a leaning towards the far right.
“Ireland is full” is being driven by neo-nationalists, white supremacists, gay-bashers, trans haters, and the Leinster House protesters two weeks ago.
We live in a society that demands instant gratification. That’s why short videos carry a greater impact than the written word, especially when you’re stirring the public mood in a volatile manner.
People are demanding a faster dopamine hit, and that is why these videos — on TikTok and Twitter/X — are less than a minute long. Any longer, and the dopamine recedes, the viewer tunes out.
Far-right groups are taking full advantage of social media to convey their message, with short videos that create a dopamine rush, driving viewers into an addictive loop, checking again and again for new material and the next rush.
Followers stay loyal once new videos are posted every day.
One such group is Ireland First, “Ireland’s Centre-Right Nationalist Party”, led by bricklayer Derek Blighe, seen online in a selfie taken with former presenter-turned-activist, Aisling O’Loughlin at the recent Dáil protest.
From Mallow, Blighe is a former emigrant who returned home from Canada in 2019. He organises and attends anti-immigrant protests, recording videos and posting them to a couple of thousand followers. He calls himself a “citizen journalist”.
One video shows Blighe asking a receptionist in a Killarney hotel if she has a room available. When she informs him that the hotel is full of Ukrainian refugees, Blighe responds with a diatribe of immigrant condemnation.
Hotels and refugee accommodation have become a source of anger for this movement.
In every Irish town, the local hotel is a social magnet, a community hub.
Christenings, communions, debs nights, weddings, funerals, sports celebrations, business meetings, social clubs, Sunday carveries, Christmas parties — all the important occasions that bring a community together take place at the local hotel, where lifelong memories are made for generations of families.
But what if the hotel is suddenly off limits, and it becomes a vetoed residential centre for refugees? More importantly, what if the community wasn’t consulted or asked how they feel about being deprived of this crucial hub that they’ve kept in business with their hard-earned wages?
Government policy around housing refugees has had a major part to play in the rise of the far right.
It’s as though they have thrown away the rule book of how it should have been managed and things are getting worse.
Housing refugees on the Electric Picnic site, in a field in the middle of nowhere, is nothing short of an inhumane cop-out — a form of enforced isolation. And they call this governance?
As the election looms, the light at the end of the tunnel for many who see our current politicians as simply feathering their own nests while ignoring the many crises that are destroying lives is someone who talks their talk, regardless of how unacceptable their behaviour towards immigrants might be.
Far-right influencers such as Derek Blighe must consider how their videos and soundbites affect vulnerable people who believe they have no one left to turn to.
Leo Varadkar must also consider why individuals like Derek Blighe are having such a growing impact, and why if this Government is responsible for opening Pandora’s box.
Charlie Flanagan this week became the latest Fine Gael TD to say he won’t be contesting the next election. Why would he? Resignation is a lesser disgrace than rejection.
Fine Gael can only hope that Fianna Fáil will pull them into their lifeboats in eighteen months’ time, something Micheál Martin might consider in an attempt to keep Sinn Féin out.
In just over a year’s time, both far-right activists who promise a better society but can’t elaborate on what that will look like, and our TDs whose heads appear to be stuck in the sand, will face the electorate.
It will be an election the likes of which we have never seen before.
