A canvass of opinion in Terenure finds little support for a residents’ group that wants electoral boundaries changed to reflect its ‘middle-class’ concerns
AS BOUNDARIES GO, it might not rival the Berlin Wall or the West Bank barrier in Israel. Nonetheless, the electoral boundary that divides the Dublin suburb of Terenure has been the unlikely source of a debate this week over class conflict. One half of Terenure lies in the well-heeled constituency of Dublin South-East, alongside salubrious suburbs such as Rathgar and Ranelagh; the other half is part of Dublin South-Central, which includes less privileged neighourhoods such as Ballyfermot and Dolphin’s Barn.
What has grabbed people’s attention is a local residents’ group that says it wants out of Dublin South-Central because its TDs don’t pay enough attention to its “middle-class” concerns. In a letter to the commission in charge of reviewing electoral boundaries, the Association of Residents of Terenure argues that the area is falling between two stools.
“The current constituency boundary has left us at a great disadvantage because the make-up of the public representatives who have been elected to our constituency do not, in general, seem to feel they represent the ‘middle-class’ suburb of Terenure and instead draw their support from, and give their attention to, the western part of the constituency,” the letter states.
So are these residents a bunch of elitist snobs? Or do they have genuine concerns about their needs being poorly met?
In the absence of any visible barricades for a looming class war, the Italian Tile and Stone Studio on Terenure Road North seems as good a place as any to canvass opinion on the great suburban divide. After all, the tastefully designed outlet sits right on the faultline that separates Dublin South-Central from Dublin South-East. Surely it’s a burning issue?
“Eh, not really,” says Luke Sweeney, who has been running the shop for the past 12 years. “As a business owner, someone looking for you on Google Maps just wants to know your address, not what electoral boundary you’re based in.”
Further down the street is the Mayfield Deli and Eatery. It serves up chicken and tiger-prawn curries, and table water in bottles with heavy stoppers. Surely the great class divide has been the issue on everyone’s lips today?
“Well, it’s the first I ever heard about it, to be honest,” says Kevin Byrne, who works front of house. “We’re here two years and, hand on heart, Terenure people are the nicest, most down-to-earth people you could meet. I wouldn’t have thought they were snobbish at all. I’m not a snob, and I feel at home here.”
Taking a break from a mid-afternoon pint in Vaughan’s Eagle House, 78-year-old Richie Arbours, a lifelong Terenure resident, pours scorn on the debate.
“Do I think people from Foxrock are better than us? Do I think we’re better than Kimmage or Crumlin? Not at all,” he says. “They’re every bit as good as we are. This is all of load of rubbish.”
Stephen Dempsey, who is 36, is doing a busy trade at the Oasis fruit-and-vegetable outlet. He moved from Walkinstown to Terenure when he was 10 years old and confides that he was accused of being a snob. He insists that the label is unjustified.
“Is this area posh? Not really,” he says. “It’s very mixed. Take a look around. It might have a reputation for old money, but there are all sorts here.”
Despite the lack of interest in the debate, the Terenure area has been prickly in the past on issues of identity. In the late 1980s the growth of Dublin meant that parts of Terenure and Harold’s Cross were to be redesignated from Dublin 6 to Dublin 26 by An Post.
So angered were locals that they eventually won a compromise with a new postcode of Dublin 6W (west). In fact, say some, there are those who refuse, in protest, to add the W, even though this can cause delays in receiving post.
Now, though, Terenure appears to be a diverse place. The cars that pull up at Terenure College to collect children are, by turns, luxury German models and 15-year-old bangers. The main street has its charity shops and Chinese takeaway, but it also has bistros, busy cafes, organic butchers and an upmarket grocery store. The houses range from roomy millionaire pads out towards Bushy Park to humble terraced homes on Corrib Road.
“I saw an article that said Terenure is the kind of place where you’ll find a blue-rinse millionaire alongside a fellow in a bomber jacket,” says one businesswoman, who declines to be named. “That sums it up for me.”
The nearest thing to controversy over the electoral boundary seems to be a gnawing frustration about the effects of the downturn on the main street. Several business owners say they feel the area has been neglected by politicians who don’t want to waste time canvassing an area where only half of the passersby are potential voters.
Eoin Bedford, who runs a print-supplies office, is one of a number of traders who came together recently to set up the “I love Terenure” campaign to encourage locals to do more business in the area. The colourful logo is displayed in the front windows of dozens of shops and restaurants.
Speaking for the group, Bedford says the campaign is ensuring that local traders give excellent service to all residents, even though the constituency divide can cause logistical problems. “Like all areas, Terenure has been hit by the economic downturn, but the ‘I Love Terenure’ campaign is part of an initiative to highlight the need to support local retailers and highlight the attractions of the wider locality.”
Concerns of this type are far more pressing these days than anything to do with electoral boundaries, says Stephen Dempsey. Talk of a great suburban divide, he adds, is just a storm in a teacup. “Whether we should label this area as posh or not is a bit irrelevant,” he says. “The recession has hurt everyone, so we all need to pull together at times like this.”
