Amidst the current debate on the implications of the Irish flag and its offensiveness to immigrants, and as a foreign person residing in Ireland, I thought I might offer my own insights into this vexillological conflict. First and foremost, I must warn that as a methodological individualist I believe that only individuals possess the capacity to make judgments and hold opinions, so this is exclusively my view and it might not be extrapolatable to any social group. After that caveat, unfortunately, I have to say that I do not like the Irish flag.
Needless to say, I respect the value it has for Irish people and its official status, but personally I cannot help feeling some contempt for an trídhathach. And I dislike it because it is an unfair and unfitting symbol for the greatness of this people. It is a flag inspired by the French tricolour, itself engendered by, arguably, the worst tragedy to befall Europe in the past centuries: namely, the French Revolution. From its very inception the tricolour has been intrinsically linked to the nefarious ideology of republicanism (even after the Easter Rising, it was still seen by many as a Sinn Féin flag). An ideology which rationalised the natural order into artificial realities; created a political religion that exalted the modern states into overarching behemoths; imposed a Cartesian positivism which reduced man to a mere variable in a macroeconomic equation; and, worst of all, fostered the development of nationalism.
Nationalism is not to be understood, as it often is, as a vague sentiment of belonging to one’s country or a struggle for independence from larger political entities (both noble causes): this is better termed patriotism. Nationalism, in essence, is the system that turns the artificially created nation-state into a legal
subject with entire sovereignty. Paradoxically, this development progressively erodes the very notion of nationhood, which is now promulgated as a political mandate rather than being a natural result of historical and organic realities. French conservative author Charles Maurras talks of the dichotomy “real
country” vs. “legal country”, and we can see how the former is gradually overcome by the latter. So the Republic dictates now who is a citizen based on criteria established positively (an African Francophone Muslim could be an Irish citizen, whereas a Catholic Gailgeoir from West Belfast is not). But the worst consequence of republicanism and nationalism is the ever-growing power it bestows on the nation-state, which has resulted in the brutal and catastrophic events of the 20th century—yes, there is a direct line between the French Revolution, the two world wars and last century’s totalitarianisms.
What if we do a tabula rasa with the flag and shed all its political connotations? Surely it can still be adopted as an ex novo symbol with complete historic autonomy? Well, I am afraid I am going to split hairs again, but I still find the design quite flawed. Displaying the banner of William of Orange in the same status as the Irish green is a historical affront that would have any self-respecting Jacobite turning in his grave. All in all, a most regrettable baggage for a national symbol. Why, this country has a rich plethora of historical symbols which would make for a much better ensign. Chief amongst them the archetypical harp, preferably on a green background as preserved in the Leinster coat of arms. Not only possessing a
long heraldic tradition, featuring in the 13th century Armorial Wijnbergen, adopted by the Irish Catholic Confederation and used throughout much of the country’s history, but the cláirseach itself has always been a quintessential symbol of Gaelic culture associated with the bards and filid—to the extent that there were dictates against harpers under Elizabeth I and Oliver Cromwell. The fact that it was adopted by the republican United Irishmen does not subtract from its long-standing pedigree. Even the Four Provinces flag could be a more politically neutral, yet historically rich, emblem for the country. Or St. Patrick’s Saltire, which, despite its adoption by the Anglo-Irish Order of St. Patrick, has a longer history spanning back to Hiberno-Norman times. And if some leeway for creativity is permitted, a new flag could be devised featuring traditional symbols like the perennial Celtic cross, knotwork or Brú na Bóinne-style triskelia. There is certainly no shortage of motifs or inspiration from the rich history and culture of this country—although, if I may make another plea, not the Starry Plough or sunburst flag, which are also
deeply imbued in republican and socialist politics.
Needless to say, I am a guest here, so far from my intention to try to impose my opinion on this issue. Irish people have the absolute right to choose and cheer the symbols they see fit. Nevertheless, being a resident in this country, whose culture and history I deeply admire, and which possesses such strong
cultural and historical links to my own land, I still feel compelled to express my view on the matter.
And what about those claims of purported offensiveness? Well, the study of semiotics teaches us that the meaning of a symbol, albeit originally arbitrary, is eventually established through social convention. The Irish tricolour, now, is simply associated with the Republic of Ireland (and, when used in the North,
with an inclination to all-island nationalism or Catholic identity). Perhaps in the future new social conventions will be developed that assign a different significance to the symbol, but trying to find it at present is nothing more than an exercise in self-absorbed futility. Will there be people who, still, wave the flag with more unwholesome intentions? For all I know, there might well be; just as people have different motivations to wear a shirt of a particular colour, don a specific hairdo or listen to any kind of music. Not only is it a platitude, but stepping into that territory is as futile as potentially perilous for our liberty.
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