Learning lessons

Why shoulder shrugging is not an option

Tue, Jul 2nd 2019, 11:08 Last updated on 2/7/19

I grew up in Ireland in the times of the ‘Troubles’ – our euphemism for the war that claimed the lives of over 3,500 people ‘on all sides’. For me it was a time of intense anger, confusion and despair, usually all at the same time. Some of the emotions I remember most vividly were those of embarrassment, shame and guilt.

Embarrassment at what was being done in the name of being ‘Irish’ (or ‘Northern Irish’ or ‘British’ or indeed ‘Catholic’, ‘Protestant’, ‘Nationalist’, ‘Loyalist’ etc.). Being from a nationalist, catholic background, I was constantly challenged to explain or justify what was being done ostensibly ‘in my name’.

My embarrassment quickly tripped over into shame and, of course guilt – shame for what was being done to people on both islands and guilt because I could not/did not do more to challenge and end it. It was a time of feeling ‘puny and powerless’ (in the words of poet Seamus Heaney).

I became active in the peace process, realised there was much that I could and should do and ultimately I became a tiny part of a diverse movement that transformed Ireland (and indeed relations between North and South and between both islands).

That process is increasingly solid if unfinished and threatened by the excess that is Brexit.

During that formative journey, I was forced to learn a number of ‘life lessons’ which have profoundly shaped my worldview.

First, the recognition that we lived on a small island and as such suffered from SIV - ‘small island virus’. We lived in a bubble, often oblivious to how abnormal and destructive our politics and our social values had become. Our tribalism blinded us to alternatives, disempowered us and reinforced received prejudices.

SIV condemned us to decades of pain, destruction and widespread abuse. It encouraged us to choose short-term gain and ‘victory’ over others for longer-term loss to ourselves.

Second, I developed strong anti-bodies to what routinely draped itself in the flag of nationalism. We didn’t really ‘love’ our country (that word continues to make me shiver), we ‘loved’ a limited and twisted image of our country.

Nationalism (and is opposite, Unionism) became a one-stop shop used to justify and defend the indefensible. Prejudice, bigotry, hostility, violence, torture and murder were routinely justified, even defended.

The corruption of normal daily life became the norm, so much so that many didn’t even ‘see’ it or opted not to ‘see’ it. Frequently, our embarrassment at what passed for Irishness caused people to deny the reality brutally asserting itself around and among us. To our ongoing cost.

Once we wrapped the flag around an issue, it became sacrosanct, almost everything including the undermining of democracy (in both our islands) could be justified in the ‘national interest’.

And those who did not share our conception of the ‘national interest’ became objects of derision and contempt, ‘traitors’ to the cause.

I quickly came to realise that our ‘nationalism’ was not just a matter of embarrassment on a larger world stage but also a matter of shame as I listened to apologist after apologist justify and defend…

Today, I have the same reaction as I hear apologists defend widespread and systemic corruption of many types across all regions of Europe and beyond (including, sadly Malta). And, as I hear commentators and ‘leaders’ espouse bigotry, hatred and racism (as they target vulnerable groups and encourage others to do likewise).

Third, I came to realise that I am by no means ‘puny and powerless’. I came to realise that through my daily interactions, behaviours and actions – ‘everyday activism’ – there was so much I could do and in so many arenas and contexts.

Chief among them was recognising the damage of SIV; calling out and challenging pseudo-nationalism and its associated corruptions and discovering my own agency.

I also came to learn, very early on, that change does not come about if we wait for others to take responsibility and to initiate action. Creating change is a matter for personal struggle at a variety of levels. Shoulder shrugging and leaving it to others or to some other time or context is not an option.

Once I became open to accessing and considering other values, perspectives and actions, opportunities to participate in real change presented themselves as a matter of course.

And though the journey is by no means done, history shows that we changed Ireland and changed it for the better.

In the end, Malta is not that much different; it doesn’t have to be this way.