Opinion

Plantations, ‘patriots’ and Pádraig Pearse: What is ethnonationalism and how did it get on the ballot?

‘Plantation’ in this context is best understood as an Irish version of ‘Great Replacement’ conspiracy theory

In February, a large crowd marched through Dublin in what organisers called a 'national mobilisation' anti-immigration protest. Placards carried by the crowd read 'invasion' and 'end the plantation'. Photograph: Sasko Lazarov/RollingNews.ie

Ciaran O'Connor
Sat Jun 1 2024 - 07:00

All nascent social or political movements have a romanticised idol from whom they draw inspiration. In Ireland, those campaigning against immigration have found their revered revolutionary in Pádraig Pearse.

“Nothing that has happened or that can ever happen can alter the truth of it. Ireland belongs to the Irish.” For those who believe that #IrelandIsFull, Pearse’s words resonate deeply. Especially so for those who view their campaigning as a nationalist uprising against a new foreign threat. Who better to venerate than Pearse, a 1916 martyr whose own brand of Irish blood-and-soil ethnonationalism was explicit at times. Even then, Pearse’s vision for Ireland, rooted in the early 20th century, was not as one dimensional as these supporters profess.

Not even he believed Ireland was full. Writing in the IRB journal Irish Freedom in October 1913, he said: “Ireland has resources to feed five times her population” and “Ireland is capable of feeding twenty million people; we are barely four million.” This contradiction seems lost on his most fervent supporters, including those seeking election on June 7th.

Many candidates in local and European races are running on a platform of ethnicity first, everything else second. One new party, featured prominently on “pro-Irish” and “patriot” candidate lists circulating, has posters nationwide warning of an “ethnocide”. They claim there is a “deliberate and systematic destruction” of white Irish people under way. Another candidate in the southeast went on local radio last week and claimed immigration is causing the “destruction of our native Irish identity and a replacement of our people”. Two weeks ago, a third candidate, running in the northeast, published a tweet expressing their own “blood and soil” beliefs. It was quickly deleted.

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That phrase was an early Nazi slogan evoking the idea of a pure Aryan race. It also cropped up among white nationalists when they marched through Charlottesville, Virginia, in August 2017.

This brand of nationalism breeds suspicion toward people of colour and is fuelling harassment of candidates from migrant backgrounds.

Online, people feverishly share photos of non-white candidates’ posters, twisting a sign of Ireland’s healthy and inclusive democracy into something sinister, shouting that their presence shows how things have gone wrong in this country, like a game of racist bingo.

Offline, Sarah Adedeji, a Fine Gael candidate (born, raised and running in Clondalkin) was recently harassed while putting up posters. The incident was recorded and shared on social media by the man who demanded to know her stance on “mass migration”. He then asked her companion, “You’re Irish, how does it feel?” as he stalked them down the street, camera in hand.

The emerging strand of nationalism in Ireland places ethnicity at its core. Its enemy is not British imperialism, as in Pearse’s time, but the perceived civilisational threat posed by migration

Ethnonationalism has gained support in Ireland through anti-immigration organising initially targeting Muslim and Syrian refugees from 2015 on. During the pandemic, far-right activists leveraged populist tactics to co-opt frustrations around Covid into support for their movement. In 2022, as attention shifted towards immigration, many of these activists became instrumental in promoting and organising protests nationwide, spreading false claims and fostering the perception that migrants pose an existential threat to Ireland.

In February, a large number of people marched through Dublin in what organisers called a “national mobilisation” anti-immigration protest. Among them were members of Ireland’s burgeoning cluster of far-right political parties and a who’s who of agitators and influencers involved in protests over the past 18 months. Placards carried by the crowd read “invasion” and “end the plantation”.

Hermann Kelly of the Irish Freedom Party told the crowd that the increasing number of Muslims in Europe is “dangerous”, adding: “We are facing ourselves becoming a minority.” Kelly and others running on June 7th frequently refer to the increased number of asylum seekers and migrants here as a “new plantation”.

This term, laden with historical connotations, is used to portray those who don’t fit their definition of “Irish” as threats, justifying suspicion and hostility against them. The term “plantation” used in this context is best understood as a localised Irish version of the “Great Replacement” theory, whose proponents believe white populations are being intentionally replaced by non-white immigrants, orchestrated by global elites. It has inspired terrorist attacks such as the 2019 Christchurch mosque shootings. Use of the term “plantation” has been growing online in Ireland for years, as documented in our research at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, a non-profit that researches disinformation, hate and extremism online.

Though still relatively small, those leading this new ethnonationalist charge have grown the movement by exploiting frustrations over housing shortages, depletion of local resources and feelings of disenfranchisement, directing blame towards asylum seekers and migrants for these issues

The emerging strand of nationalism in Ireland places ethnicity at its core. Its enemy is not British imperialism, as in Pearse’s time, but the perceived civilisational threat posed by migration. This belief system thrives on fearmongering about outsiders packaged in sensationalist, populist narratives that cloak much of its own blood-and-soil tendencies. Most people who have questions or concerns about immigration are not racist nor do they use the issue to promote ethnonationalism. Yet there exists a growing movement that aspires for a monocultural state exclusively for white (usually Catholic) Irish people, rejecting immigration, integration and assimilation of those who don’t fit this definition. Within this worldview, nationality and citizenship are determined solely by ethnicity.

At its extreme, this brand of nationalism inspires hatred and violence towards others. Though still relatively small, those leading this new ethnonationalist charge have grown the movement by exploiting frustrations over housing shortages, depletion of local resources and feelings of disenfranchisement, directing blame towards asylum seekers and migrants for these issues.

Previously confined to fringe spaces online and political landscapes abroad, this sentiment has now been mainstreamed in Ireland, finding support online, on the streets and among both elected and hopeful representatives running next week.

To effectively meet the growth of ethnonationalism, we need increased community dialogue between different groups, faster processing times for asylum seeker applications and improved communication from the Government. Of course, one of the long-term solutions to this, like so many other issues, lies in addressing the housing crisis. For years, the dominant strand of nationalism in Irish politics was civic, outward looking and inclusive. Failures in government and fissures in society mean the political landscape has shifted. Be it on June 7th or the upcoming general and presidential elections, ethnonationalism has arrived in Ireland and is now on the ballot.

Ciarán O’Connor is a senior analyst with the Institute for Strategic Dialogue where he focuses on researching extremism and disinformation online

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