My increasing distaste for my native country – the Republic of Ireland – has reached such a pitch that I’m finally going to change my citizenship.
Published: 1 October 2026
Though I had a right to a British passport and have lived in England from the age of 21, I had stopped using it years ago at the beginning of the Troubles.
The Irish republican violence I loathed made me feel it would be cowardice to call myself British rather than Irish.
Instead, as an historian and later a political commentator, I felt it my responsibility to try to explain the Irish to the British and — after I came to know Northern Protestants well — to explain them to both.
The virulent abuse I’ve had over the past few decades and on social media from Irish republicans, the venom they’ve spewed towards Brits and their refusal to acknowledge the evil of the IRA campaign enhanced my sympathy and loyalty to the long-suffering, decent, tolerant people of the United Kingdom.
But very recent events and the behaviour of leaders of Irish nationalism have finally made me too ashamed to call myself Irish.
The hate-filled ranting from Michelle O’Neill, the self-identified ‘first minister for all’ — flanked by several Sinn Fein colleagues as she formed part of a human chain challenging a tiny, legal parade — and the ugly detestation towards her northern neighbours suffusing the face of Mary Lou McDonald as she announced Sinn Féin’s decree “that there will be no march along the Garvaghy Road — not on this Sunday, and not ever” made me feel sick.
And then Micheál Martin, whom I’ve always thought one of the most rational and decent Irish politicians, denounced the independent Parades Commission’s decision as “incomprehensible and wrong”.
As one of my fair-minded southern friends said yesterday: “Well, that’s the end of a united Ireland.”
Even worse has been the disgusting anti-semitism proudly revealed by the Irish political and commentariat classes.
A country that prides itself on its progressiveness has revealed itself to be champion Jew-haters.
Islamists want to annihilate Israel and eradicate Jews.
Irish nationalists chant their support as they flaunt Gaza accessories like keffiyehs, Palestinian flags and ‘free Palestine’ badges.
Almost no one cares about the Islamist persecution of women.
Only a few lonely feminists protested about the Taliban’s removal of all women’s rights including the freedom to participate in sport.
The Irish cricket team played a match against Afghanistan, which the English declined to do.
When it came to football, the Football Association of Ireland failed in their attempts to have Israel boycotted, the team wore black armbands, refused to shake hands and kept their heads down during Israel’s anthem.
So that’s what being Irish means.
They’ll play a country that had erased women from sport, school and work, while banning 35 Orangemen from walking home from church after a service remembering the Battle of the Somme.
Forget Ireland of the Welcomes.
My country has morphed into a nation of bigots.
I’m off to the passport office.
