Irish unity won’t come from pinning hopes on a sectarian headcount
Nationalists must learn lesson from a century ago,
THIS Sunday, March 21, is officially census day in Northern Ireland. It’s quite the undertaking to count everyone in the midst of a pandemic. But there is the added bonus that enumerators will not have to go traipsing around hotel bars trying to get guests to fill out forms, because they’re all closed.
Officials were particularly keen to go ahead with the census since it happens only every 10 years, as opposed to the Republic, where a detailed picture of the population is revealed every five years.
Like so much in the north, all eyes will be on the religious make-up of the region that the census data will reveal.
The last census, in 2011, revealed that 48% of Northern Ireland’s resident population are either Protestant or brought up Protestant, a drop of 5% from 10 years earlier.
At the same time, 45% of the resident population described themselves as either Catholic or brought up Catholic, an increase of 1%. Seven per cent said they either belong to another religion or none.
Most observers expect the gap to have narrowed further and some even predict that Catholics may actually be in a majority when the figures are revealed next year.
The writing has been on the wall for a while.
Already Catholics make up a majority of pupils in schools in the north.
Add to that the fact that Sinn Fein is likely to take the largest share of the seats in next year’s Assembly elections (and with it the coveted role of First Minister) and Northern Ireland is a place transformed.
When the state was established a century ago, with institutionalised discrimination against Catholics, the plan was for a permanent Protestant majority with the infamous mantra, “A Protestant parliament for a Protestant people.”
The census data is likely to fuel further debate and discussion about a united Ireland. Sinn Fein’s organisers in the US spent a fortune this week on half-page advertisements in both the Washington Post and the New York Times calling on the Government to prepare and plan for reunification.
“This is the time for the people of Ireland to have their say,” the adverts proclaim, calling for a date to be set for a unity referendum.
Of course, the adverts were playing to Sinn Fein grassroots and financiers stateside. To hammer the point home, the Friends of Sinn Fein organisation also took out full-page adverts in both the Irish Voice and the Irish Echo — long-considered bastions of the romantic Irish-american community.
The problem is that, in the US, the Shinners have too easily reached for anti-british tropes.
Like in 2019, when Mary Lou Mcdonald cheerfully marched behind a banner which read: “England — get out of Ireland”.
The backlash resulted in a sorry/not sorry clarification from the Sinn Fein leader, when she said: “I suppose all of us have to be conscious of not just what we say and what is meant, but also what is heard and what is understood.”
Quite. And the fact is that many people, when they listen to Sinn Fein talk about reunification, hear a narrow and sectarian agenda. Rather than inclusivity, they hear “Brits out” and “Up the ‘Ra”.
It is not only the fact that Sinn Fein alienates many unionists from the discussion, it is also not at all a given that all Catholics (or, indeed, people who describe themselves as nationalists) would vote for a united Ireland if there was a referendum in the morning.
Identity in the north is complicated and one of the triumphs of the Good Friday Agreement was to create a culture where people could be comfortable with identities that might appear conflicting.
People can be British, Irish, Northern Irish, or a combination of all of these, without one single identity being exaggerated at the expense of another.
The 2011 census in the north was fascinating, because for the first time, as well as the question about religious background, statisticians asked a question about national identity.
Two-fifths (40%) said they had a British-only national identity, a quarter (25%) said they had Irish-only and just over a fifth of people (21%) said they had a Northern Irish-only national identity.
It is hugely significant that, while 45% of the population are Catholic, just 25% regard themselves as Irish-only. These figures illustrate the danger of trying to equate someone’s religion with their political identity.
At the same time, almost three-fifths (59%) of people usually resident in Northern Ireland in 2011 held a UK passport, just over a fifth (21%) held an Irish passport, while 19% held no passport at all.
Of course, those findings were pre-brexit. The north voted to stay and the UK’S exit from the European Union has upset the post-good Friday Agreement consensus that Northern Ireland was a place where nationalists could feel equally at home.
Next weekend’s census will reveal to what extent Brexit has affected identity and the reality that Britishness is no longer synonymous with being a citizen of Europe. Already, we know many people from a unionist background have opted for Irish passports. It remains to be seen if this will have an impact on how they view themselves.
One thing is for sure: the debate around reunification cannot be fuelled by pinning hopes on a sectarian headcount and corralling people into a state they have no stake in, or a desire to be part of.
We allowed that a century ago and it was a catastrophe. We deserve no forgiveness if we allow history to repeat itself.
‘The problem is that, in the US, they have too easily reached for anti-british tropes’