Sarah Harte: Until we address the question of who has the right to call themselves Irish, we will see more racist attacks

The increase in racially motivated attacks against migrants raises questions about what it means to be Irish and who has the right to live and work (or even just be) here

Ed Sheeran was recently criticised both in Ireland and the UK when he announced he felt culturally Irish. Picture: Evan Agostini/Invision/AP

Anyone who has ever exited Camden tube station and brushed past the heartbreaking sight of men with Irish accents on the ground, drinking, should take the lesson that life can sometimes go wrong for migrants who leave their country for a new life. So, when we get hot under the collar about attacks on migrants, it can’t just be about working migrants.

BBC correspondent Fergal Keane wrote at the weekend: “The policing of identity — who you are allowed to be — is disturbingly present in many societies, and many guises.” 

It feels prescient, with an increase in racially motivated attacks against migrants.

This raises questions about what it means to be Irish and who has the right to live and work (or even just be) here. This is something we need to discuss transparently. As the economist David McWilliams said recently, in the context of our housing shortage, we have a habit of shirking hard conversations.

Journalist Fergal Keane wrote about Irish identity in response to the criticism musician Ed Sheeran recently received over identifying as culturally Irish. Picture: Naoise Culhane

Born in London, Fergal Keane was raised in Ireland, later spending his professional life in England, where his two children were born. He watches them grapple with “overlapping identities”.

Keane wrote about Irish identity in response to the criticism musician Ed Sheeran recently received both in Ireland and the UK when he announced he felt culturally Irish. With an Irish father, two Irish paternal grandparents, an Irish passport, and a love of Ireland, he was slagged off because he was born and raised in England.

If a dog is born in a stable, does that make it a horse? I was born in Dublin but am from Cork. When I did some media interviews, I was challenged several times about not truly being from Cork.

One woman who heard a radio interview I did with Miriam O’Callaghan claimed I was from a different county because I had attended school there for just under five years. I assured her I had zero connection to that place, but nothing would do her, except that I was from there. Apart from the inaccuracy of her claim, why was she invested in the first place?

There’s a brilliant quote from the poet Patrick Kavanagh (never a man to duck outspoken pronouncements on Irish society): “Parochialism and provincialism are [direct] opposites. The provincial has no mind of his own; he does not trust what his eyes see until he has heard what the metropolis — towards which his eyes are turned — has to say on any subject. This runs through all activities. The parochial mentality, on the other hand, is never in any doubt about the social and artistic validity of his parish.”

I concluded I was arguing with a provincial. Although I spent decades in Dublin for personal and professional reasons, and was born there, it was never my parish and never could be.

Kavanagh, however, added an essential proviso to his quote. “Advising people not to be ashamed of having the courage of their remote parish, is not free from many dangers. There is always that element of bravado that takes pleasure in the notion that the potato-patch is the ultimate. To be parochial, a man needs the right kind of sensitive courage and the right kind of sensitive humility.” 

We are seeing the opposite of that sensitive humility in the attacks on people of Indian descent and other migrants. We are witnessing blatant racism and the idea that particular potato patches are the preserve solely of those who were born there.

The Indian Embassy in Dublin has issued a warning. “All Indian citizens in Ireland are advised to take reasonable precautions for their personal security and avoid deserted areas, especially in odd hours.” 

This warning would not have helped six-year-old Nia Naveen, who was out playing on a Waterford housing estate when a group of boys and girls allegedly attacked her, punched her in the face, and said: "Go back to India,” which her parents said she didn’t understand.

Her mother, Anupa Achuthan, a HSE nurse working here for eight years, said she was happy to be an Irish citizen, but no longer feels like she belongs here.

She points out they are professionals who came to fill a labour gap. Thanks to the recession of the 80s, I personally understand the story of people who migrate to other countries where their skills are needed, but natives are not keen on them.

Simon Harris has remarked the Irish health service would collapse without the key contribution of members of the Indian community in Ireland. About 80,000 Indian people are living here.

Badly needed policing (boots on the ground) would practically address blatant demonstrations of racism, but it would not address the underlying factors that fuel it.

Conor McGregor is not alone in his ugly Ireland for the Irish schtick. Picture: Leah Farrell/ RollingNews.ie

Racist ideas are embedded in a culture where individuals shape culture and culture shapes individuals in a cyclical process. These ideas do not spring from the solo actions of a handful of disgruntled individuals; instead, they proliferate in the cultural ether.

We see it with people like Conor McGregor, but he’s not alone in his ugly Ireland for the Irish schtick. Hatred is always based on fear. Fear of losing something. Real or perceived competition for resources or threats to self-image.

When self-image is poor, racism is a psychological defence mechanism of the I’m better than you variety. People attach themselves to the soothing balm of a group that makes them feel like they belong somewhere, anywhere.

I suspect hate-filled people often have a reason for their core anger, although obviously this is never an apologia for racism, but it must be addressed. They instinctively recognise their flaws and shortcomings and duck this by projecting their flaws onto others.

Anupa Achuthan reportedly does not want these errant teenagers to be punished. She wants them to receive counselling because she believes “the estate belongs to them as well”, which seems magnanimous and wise. Despite what must be her acute distress, Ms Achuthan understands the fundamental importance of building a sense of solidarity and of not excluding people.

Both her daughter Nia and her 10-month-old brother were born here, meaning that, should their parents choose to remain, as children, they will be inevitably forced to navigate those overlapping Irish and Indian identities, just as Fergal Keane says his children must do in England or Ed Sheeran has done.

The Indian community, including Ms Achuthan, is asking for practical solutions, including a taskforce on how we translate what Mr Harris calls a country of "cead mile failte" into safe streets for people who come to live here.

But we are going to see more racism unless we address the fundamental question of who has a right to be here and what it means to be culturally Irish, which, as Keane says, is complicated. It’s dynamic and evolving now more than ever, with a cross-fertilisation of cultures.

I loved what Fergal Keane said: “So, if somebody asks me to narrow my identity to a single label, I refuse, because it is mine, not to be explained or justified. And if it shifts tomorrow, that is my business.” How true.