What Do We Know and What Should We Do About the Irish Border?

Katy Hayward, Author

• Publisher: SAGE Publications Ltd
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN: 9781529770650, 9781529770643
• eBook ISBN: 9781529773477
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: European Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

The Irish border is a manifestation of the relationship between Britain and Ireland. When that relationship has been tense, we have seen the worst effects at the Irish border in the form of violence, controls and barriers. When the relationship has been good, the Irish border has become - to all intents and purposes - open, invisible and criss-crossed with connections. Throughout its short existence, the symbolism of the border has remained just as important as its practical impact.

With the UK's exit from the European Union, the challenge of managing the Irish border as a source and a symbol of British-Irish difference became an international concern. The solution found in the UK-EU Withdrawal Agreement gives the Irish border a globally unique status.

A century after partition, and as we enter the post-Brexit era, this book considers what we should know and do about this highly complex and ever-contested boundary line.

Written by leading social scientists, the What Do We Know and What Should We Do About...? series offers concise, up-to-date overviews of issues often oversimplified, misrepresented or misunderstood and shows you how to enact change.

"Short, sharp and compelling." - Alex Preston, The Observer

"If you want to learn a lot about what matters most, in as short a time as possible, this is the series for you."- Danny Dorling, 1971 Professor of Geography, University of Oxford

1 Introduction

When you're in danger of losing a thing it becomes precious and when it's around us, it's in tedious abundance and we take it for granted as if we're going to live forever, which we're not.

(John McGahern, 2005)

Perhaps the most difficult thing to explain about the Irish border is the importance of its insignificance. After the UK's Brexit referendum of 23 June 2016,¹ a steady stream of European dignitaries came to Ireland to visit the border. And there they posed for remarkably dull photographs. Ambassadors, ministers and diplomats stood at the point in a country lane where a dashed yellow line became a solid white one, or between two road signs giving the speed limit in kilometres per hour then miles per hour. Journalists struggled to make the photo ops anything other than clichéd. But the very invisibility of the border was the thing they were there to point out. Although it was easy to spot on a map, the border was difficult to locate ‘on the ground'.² People did not give it a second thought when crossing it. As a feature of daily life and conversation, the Irish border could all too easily be forgotten about. The visitors came to pay tribute to the fact that this boundary line was, to all intents and purposes, non-existent. The fact that the Irish border had become one of the most seamless and frictionless borders in the world had come to be taken for granted. After decades of diversions, checkpoints and political obsession, moving, trading and working across the border had become both easy and unremarkable. It was this ‘absence’ of a border that was felt to be suddenly in danger of being lost – all as a consequence of the actions of the neighbouring country, and all subject now to the UK's exit negotiations with the EU. Quite unexpectedly, people on the island of Ireland were having to explain to British and European observers why it was that the openness of the Irish border was so precious. This proved a more difficult task than we might have imagined it would be.

One could say that it was a sign of the success of the 1998 Good Friday (Belfast) Agreement that too few people had cared to remember how ‘hard’ the Irish border had been before it. It was a luxury to be able to forget. Indeed, the pro-Leave Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Theresa Villiers (2016), had gone so far as to claim that there had been no such thing. ‘The reality', she said, ‘is that there has never been a genuinely hard border enforced between the UK and Ireland, and there would not be one if we leave [the EU]'. The British Army had dismantled the last remnants of its military watchtowers along the Irish border only a decade earlier (Reuters, 2007). That a British government minister could assert that this border was never ‘genuinely hard’ could only be born of either ignorance or deceit. Whatever the cause, it was a sign of the chasm between those who led the path to Brexit and those who stood, inadvertently, in its way. The Irish border was to become described as a ‘stumbling block', ‘obstacle’ and ‘tripwire’ in the UK withdrawal negotiations. Yet people on both sides of the border and both sides of the Brexit debate were in full agreement on one fundamental point: they wanted the conditions of its current invisibility to change as little as possible.

The novelist John McGahern, a son of the small border county of Leitrim, intimates in his memoirs that taking something important for granted is as natural and as misguided as our common human failure to acknowledge our own mortality. Just because we let something become ‘unthinkable’ does not make it any less likely to happen. This, perhaps, is the overriding lesson of Brexit, not least as viewed from the island of Ireland. McGahern's remarks echo Hegel's sombre reflection that humans learn too late: ‘The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk.’ We can only really begin to understand and – in a meaningful sense – to conceptualise what has occurred when the bustle of activity is over. If the five years of the Brexit process, from referendum campaign to exit from the ‘transition period', was characterised by anything, it was confusion and commotion. There was a peculiar intensity to the Brexit process; it so often felt surreal and implausible, even as it unfolded. This is especially true of what came to pass regarding the jointly agreed objective of ‘avoiding a hard border on the island of Ireland'.

The subject of ‘the Irish border’ encapsulated profound differences in ‘reality’ as viewed by Remainers and Leavers, British and Europeans, Unionists and Nationalists. It is only when the actual consequences of decisions made and actions taken begin to settle that we are able to take it all in. It is a good time to consider afresh the nature of the Irish border, in form and symbol. Although Brexit is far from over (undoing a near-50-year relationship and establishing a new one is a long-term project, after all), the night has closed in on the UK's membership of the EU. And Northern Ireland is left in a tenuous position, both outside and inside the European Union, and both inside and outside the UK's internal market. In effect, the Brexit process has transformed the borders all around this small and awkward region. A book of this nature is a timely opportunity to consider how we might yet act more wisely and philosophically in the era of the Irish border – and Ireland's borders – to come.

What is a Border?

Before considering what is particular about the Irish border, it is worth addressing the fundamental matter of what ‘a border', or specifically a state border, actually is. In some respects, borders can be the most obvious manifestation of a state and of its power.³ Think of passport gates at an airport, or customs inspection facilities in a ferry port, or wire fencing 2 metres high stretching for hundreds of kilometres through open countryside. There are few instances when we see the exercise of state control so literally. Borders represent the power of a state, but such power that has only been exercised over that particular territory for a certain period of time. The boundaries of a state denote historical processes of division and consolidation. And if politics is predominantly focused on the exercise of power within the jurisdiction of the state, it is understandable that state borders can also feature prominently in political discourse and identity. That said, the materiality and the symbolism of a border can be of contrasting significance. The post-1998 Agreement Irish border is an example of a border with little importance in terms of its practical effect or visibility, but tremendous significance for political and cultural identity. This leads to the most important point about the nature of a state border: even where it happens to be contiguous with some topological feature of landscape, a state border is always and primarily a product of human, specifically social, behaviour. There can be no ‘natural’ state borders because there is no ‘natural’ state.

In and of itself, drawing a line across a map does nothing; it is human activity (including our collective imaginations) which gives a border meaning and effect. From this principle, we know that the significance of any border varies by context. The relevant context, for a state border, is not just geographical; it is historical, legal, political, socio-cultural and economic. Immediately we see, therefore, that there is an awful lot in the meaning of any state border that may be subject to differing interpretation and contestation. That contestation may come from within the state or from another state, as in the case of irredentism – the claim by one state over the territory of another. Furthermore, although borders tend to be seen as emblematic of state power, it is more accurate to see them in terms of the limitations of sovereignty rather than the manifestation of sovereignty. Because, even in the digital age, the jurisdiction of a state is primarily defined in territorial terms: a border constitutes a boundary to the scope of state power. This is where we come to another characteristic of every border, but one which is bizarrely often overlooked: a border has two sides. For a start, what a border means in practice depends very much on the extent of the differences between the rules, practices and norms of the states on either side of it. When something moves across a border, it exits one state and enters another. Most popular discourse about borders assumes that sovereignty is exercised at a border by restricting what can enter a state. But what is being allowed to ‘exit’ the other state is also key. If economic development or national security, say, depend on what is able to enter a state, they also depend on what other states are willing to allow to leave. If movement across a border is both exit from a state and entry to another, then it demonstrates the connectedness of states more than their separateness.

This leads to another dimension of the two-sided nature of borders which means a limitation on state sovereignty. It is possible for one state alone to make a border ‘harder’ or more difficult to cross. However, it is not possible for one state by itself to make a border more open – this depends on action (and agreement) on both sides. As such, there is a certain vulnerability associated with a border. Friction imposed by one side of a border has consequences for the other. Ultimately then, although borders are often conceived in terms of division and separation, it is sometimes better to understand them as meeting points. In the case of air and maritime travel, the entry post of an airport or harbour can be the ‘meeting point’ between countries that are geographically distant. In the case of land borders, the connection is between neighbours, and ‘borderlands’ can be where their interdependence is most manifest. Following this, a region that runs either side of a border can have a unique character born of the ‘meeting’ of the two states. Where the relationship between the neighbouring states is positive, there can be particular benefits associated with being in the border region; where the relationship is negative, the border region may suffer particular harm. As one might expect, border regions tend to experience the most direct impact of the existence of a land border. The border region of the island of Ireland is no exception.

There is another dimension to the dualism of a border. The boundary line of a state is of obvious significance; it is the territorial limitation to the rules of a state. However, the actual manifestation of a state's border need not necessarily occur at that boundary line. Indeed, as the exercise of state surveillance and power has become more sophisticated, so ‘bordering practices’ have diversified too. The effects of a border can take place far from the border line. The meeting point, in such instances, is not between two states but between individuals. This is seen most particularly in immigration enforcement. When a hospital receptionist or an employer or a landlord is required to check on the residency rights of a potential patient, employee or tenant, they are acting as a ‘border agent'. It is at such points that the legal terms of the border are put into in practice. Border studies of the twenty-first century increasingly have to account for the ways in which border controls are exercised remotely, often by people other than official enforcers or agencies, or in virtual or digital spheres.

Lastly, on this theme, a border can have different effects for the movement of different types of things. As a consequence, a border can be ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ at the one time. To put it in simple terms, a country may have a very tough immigration policy (only allowing the entry of certain groups of people into its territory under strict conditions) at the same time as it has a liberal trade policy (allowing goods to flow in fairly freely). But the manifestation of a border may not only be seen in movement across it. A border may also be ‘hard’ or ‘soft’ in its physical manifestation too. A ‘hard’ border may be evident in the form of border posts, surveillance cameras, watchtowers, inspection facilities. At the same time, that border may be ‘soft’ in terms of how easily things can move across it. The history of the Irish border is a good illustration of this. At the same time as the border was heavily fortified in some places as a result of the Troubles (the 30-year period of violent conflict prior to the 1998 Agreement), with military checkpoints and soldier foot patrols and blocked roads, it was quite open in other respects, as the EU's single market came into effect and the movement of goods across it became increasingly unrestricted. All of this complexity goes to show why borders are such a marvellously rich subject for discussion and analysis. It also shows why analysis of any border at any point in time will always be frustratingly incomplete. The scope for any study of a border is, ironically, boundless. This book on the Irish border comes at a point when we have been forced to recognise the endurance of borders (marked by a century of partition) and the weakness of borders (marked by a global pandemic). This paradox runs throughout this book, as I attempt to explain the importance and the unimportance of the Irish border.

Finding Common Ground

A good place to begin to ‘explain’ the Irish border would, one imagines, be in identifying its origins. However, herein we immediately encounter the difficulties of the subject. It is not a neutral topic.⁴ There are not just different interpretations of where the Irish border comes from – there are competing and contested narratives about it. An Irish nationalist explanation for the Irish border is that it exists because of British colonialism, and it has persisted because of British interference in Ireland. A unionist explanation for the Irish border is that it exists because of the distinctiveness (which may be understood as a form of ‘Britishness') of what became Northern Ireland, and that it has persisted because most people there wish to remain in the United Kingdom with Great Britain. For nationalists, the border (and thus Northern Ireland) is, in essence, illegitimate. For unionists, the border is the formal means of assuring them of their legitimate place on the island of Ireland. For unionists, nationalists’ wish to see the border removed represents (sometimes less implicitly than others) a desire to see unionism gone too. For nationalists, unionists’ reification of the border represents (sometimes less implicitly than others) the brutalisation of the Irish nation. These differences were epitomised in the disagreements that surrounded the centenary of Northern Ireland in 2021. Unionist plans to celebrate Northern Ireland's 100 years were repelled by nationalists, not least because the very existence of Northern Ireland means the partition of Ireland.

As such, contemporary discussion of the Irish border is rarely about the border per se, but about the legitimacy (or otherwise) of unionism in Ireland. By extension, discussion of the Irish border is about the relationship between Britain and Ireland. This has taken on a wholly new significance in the context of the UK's withdrawal from the EU. In particular, the Protocol on Ireland/Northern Ireland that was part of the UK–EU Withdrawal Agreement has brought a new border to the fore: the Irish Sea border. In order to appreciate best the context in which borders all around Northern Ireland are now seen as of greater significance than ever, it is necessary to consider the background context in a way that helps us understand the competing claims of both unionism and nationalism in the present day.

In order to do this it is first necessary to think rather further back than the tumultuous years during and after the First World War. Those years were the culmination of several movements and processes with deep historical roots – ones of resistance to British rule and of resistance to the Catholic Church, to name but two (Hennessey, 1998). Ireland's experience of those years was also particular to their moment – a time when men drew red lines across maps of lands they had never visited, and empires were thus broken and states created. It is also necessary to allow for a nuanced understanding of what the Protocol on Ireland/Northern Ireland in the UK–EU Withdrawal Agreement describes as ‘the unique circumstances of the island of Ireland'. These unique circumstances are not contained to the geographical unit of the island; they have been intrinsically shaped by Great Britain, for better and for worse. Taoiseach Garret FitzGerald (30 September 1982) eloquently described ‘the deep conviction of Irish nationalists that the island of Ireland is a natural geographical area forming historically a single cultural and political unity'. But, as he well knew, it is erroneous to conflate an island with self-containment, let alone with a singular culture. For many centuries, travel across the sea in a boat would have been quicker and easier than travel across land on foot or by other means. The historical effects of maritime connections of culture and commerce and kinship are no less significant because they are harder for us to appreciate now, in our age of fast road, rail and air passage. As with any border, the Irish Sea can be seen as a line of connection or a bridge between Britain and Ireland as well as a ‘natural’ boundary.

Finally, it is important to allow for discontinuity in history. Unionism and nationalism as identities and ideologies are concomitant with the emergence of the modern state, and the very concept of nationhood. Yet, because they are both political ideologies fostering a form of ethno-national identity, they trace their origins far beyond this. To outline the ‘background’ of the Irish border is to proffer some context for the legitimacy claims of both unionism and nationalism. But it is also to show that the events, decisions and assumptions which resulted in the drawing of the Irish border were never predetermined. Just as it was naive of any of us to think, but a few years ago, that the borders around Northern Ireland were fading into perpetual insignificance, so it would be foolish of us now to imagine that there is anything inevitable about the future of the Irish border.

Notes

1. Northern Ireland voted by 56 per cent to remain in the European Union; the UK as a whole (given the proportionately large size of England and Wales) voted 52 per cent to leave the EU.

2. This was memorably described by ‘the Irish border’ itself through a Twitter account of an anonymous author who tweeted under the pseudonym of @BorderIrish through the ins and outs of the UK's withdrawal from the EU: ‘Then the journalists started to show up with all their daft questions: “How did you get here? Are you scared? How do you really feel?” Hiding from British journalists sent by the editors to find me has been the only fun thing about Brexit. They write articles saying they've “straddled” me (I know, the cheek of them) because they love to sound macho, but that actually means they couldn't find me.’ (@BorderIrish, 2019: 6)

3. In focusing on a territorial concept of state borders here, I am not neglectful of the critical developments in border studies’ literature which focus upon the de-territorialised, multiscalar, symbolic and dynamic nature of borders. This is reflected in the concepts of border ‘practices', border ‘regimes', ‘borderscapes’ and ‘border mobilities', to name but a few (see, inter alia, Anderson and O'Dowd, 1999; Brambilla et al., 2015; Parker and Vaughan-Williams, 2014; Pickering and Weber, 2006; Sassen, 2006; Scott, 2020; Wilson and Donnan, 2012). This section is intended to incorporate some key insights from that broad literature while necessarily remaining focused on the most pertinent of concepts for this short study.

4. This seems an appropriate point to note that my use of terminology throughout this book does not come in ignorance of the potential for offence to be taken on the part of the reader. No offence is intended, but nor can it be avoided. Some of the most crucial proper nouns for a book on this subject are used (or read) to signify political preference. No such preference, or ignorance of the same, should be taken in the terminology used herein. Unless when citing others, I use the neutral term 1998 Agreement to refer to the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement. In referring to the northern jurisdiction on the island of Ireland, I use the internationally recognised legal term of Northern Ireland, while I acknowledge that this is contested. And I use both Ireland (as the proper name of the state) and, where necessary to avoid confusion, the Republic of Ireland. I sometimes refer to ‘the north’ and ‘the south', which are in common usage and not meant pejoratively; these are also the nouns used in the 1998 Agreement. Finally, I only capitalise the terms ‘unionist’ and ‘nationalist’ where they ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Titles in the Series
• About the Series
• About the Author
• 1 Introduction
• 2 Background
• 3 What Do We Know?
• 4 What Should We Do?
• 5 Conclusion
• References
• Index