Chapter 1: The Union is Precious
The United Kingdom is a union of nations but not a union of peoples. The bonds that unite are viewed as shackles by many 'British' subjects.
In one of the most turbulent periods of recent British history, Theresa May emerged as the leader of the Conservative Party, tasked with navigating a divided party and nation through the complex aftermath of the Brexit referendum. On July 11, 2016, during her campaign for leadership, she infamously declared, “Brexit means Brexit and we’re going to make a success of it.” This phrase, capturing the Conservative Party's determination, pledged to turn the ambiguous venture of Brexit into a victory, despite the intricate challenges of detaching from the European Union. It epitomised a period of bold, yet increasingly detached, optimism, now retrospectively seen through a lens of irony from the vantage point of 2024.
Another of May's pronouncements—her initiative to fortify the "precious union" of the UK's four nations—may similarly be viewed with a blend of scepticism and irony in hindsight. In the early throes of 2017, amidst continuing Brexit chaos, May proposed a vision focused on unity: “A stronger Britain demands that we do something else – strengthen the precious union between the 4 nations of the United Kingdom. At this momentous time, it is more important than ever that we face the future together, united by what makes us strong: the bonds that unite us as a people, and our shared interest in the UK being an open, successful trading nation in the future.”
Her appeal for unity, aimed at shepherding the UK through divisive times, inadvertently cast a spotlight on entrenched disparities and tensions within the UK. Her goal to strengthen the ties between England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland met incredulity, as it seemed to overlook the varying priorities, historical conflicts, and the divisive impact of the Brexit vote.
Scotland's resounding vote to remain in the EU sharply contrasted with May's appeal for unity, igniting discussions on independence and national identity. The 2014 assurances of economic security, sustained EU membership, and greater autonomy that persuaded Scotland to stay in the UK now appeared doubtful. Scotland found itself facing EU withdrawal, economic destabilisation, and Westminster taking on even more power over Scotland.
Northern Ireland had also voted for remain. Consequently, the potential for a hard border with the Republic of Ireland threatened the delicate peace process and sparked renewed calls for Irish reunification. Calls for the strengthening the bonds of the United Kingdom seemed tone deaf in this context. May's vision of unity seemed increasingly incongruous with the specific aspirations and concerns of the UK's nations. She had sought to address the British people, however no such people exist.
The narrative of Britishness promoted by people like May is based on the idea of a collective identity shared among peoples with different or additional national identities. This perspective portrays the UK in opposition to typical nation-states, which are often marked by relative linguistic, cultural, and historical uniformity. Instead, the UK is said to be a mosaic of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland – each a distinct piece, yet integral to the complete picture.
In reality, when people speak of Britishness, they often mean Englishness or some sort of homogenised version of Britishness devoid of non-English traits. The British stereotype often mirrors that of the English, emphasising traits such as a stiff upper lip, received pronunciation, politeness, and a penchant for tea, while largely ignoring the diverse cultures and characteristics of Wales, Northern Ireland, and Scotland. The quintessential British stereotype, often personified by iconic English figures such as Margaret Thatcher, Winston Churchill, and Queen Elizabeth II, underscores an Anglo-centric view of British identity. These individuals, embodying characteristics like resilience, leadership, and a sense of duty, are celebrated as paragons of Britishness, yet they are all English. In contrast, famous Scots, celebrated for their contributions to science, literature, and politics, like Alexander Fleming, Robert Burns, and Nicola Sturgeon, are frequently regarded not as symbols of Britishness but specifically of Scottish identity.
To some, this version of Britishness is seen less as a genuine expression of shared values and more as a cover for English dominance, highlighting the tension between the ideal of a united British identity and the lived reality of distinct national identities within the UK. May’s attempt to unite the British people was doomed to failure because she conceptualised the British as being essentially the same as the English.
The choice to scrutinise the idea of the "precious union" as the inaugural theme in our examination of the seven ideas that fractured Britain is deliberate. This notion, deeply embedded in the rhetoric of dominant political factions and pervasive across the media landscape, serves as a compelling entry point. By dissecting this concept, our objective is not merely to offer a critique but to unveil a broader, more critical issue: the manner in which certain ideas are portrayed as self-evidently coherent and nearly universally accepted, despite their inherent contradictions and contested status. This analysis aims to reveal the complex dynamics at play, challenging the reader to question the validity and universality of ideas that have significantly shaped Britain's socio-political fabric.
This chapter aims to dissect the complex narratives that orbit the ideas of the “precious union” and Britishness, spotlighting a significant misstep in national consciousness and policymaking: the presumption of the union's universal allure and the unity of its peoples. By uncovering the diverse and sometimes conflicting perspectives on the union and its history, especially from the Celtic nations, it is evident that this presumption has inadvertently exacerbated Britain's ongoing fragmentation and decline. The prevailing narrative's failure to consider this diversity has led to attitudes and policies that exacerbate divisions, unveiling a country in a quandary over its identity and future. The intent here is not to champion a specific political solution—whether it be the unionism, Scottish independence, or Irish reunification—but to acknowledge and engage with these diverse viewpoints so that the mistakes of the past are not repeated.
Shared History as Politics
Theresa May, in speaking of "the bonds that unite us as a people," likely alluded to the historical ties purported to bind the United Kingdom's constituent nations. Advocates of a unified British identity frequently tout a narrative steeped in a shared history. Yet, a perfunctory examination of this so-called shared history uncovers a myriad of conflicting interpretations, revealing the study of British history as a battleground for political ideologies and ambitions.
Consider the case of A School History of England, co-authored by Charles Fletcher and Rudyard Kipling. Published amidst the fervent nationalistic waves of its era, particularly during the tumultuous debates over Home Rule for Ireland, this book had an agenda far beyond the mere transfer of information. It was a tool, finely honed to instil in young minds a burning sense of imperial allegiance, deftly woven with threads of anti-parliamentary rhetoric, racism, and palpable anti-Irish sentiment. Its success, marked by ten reprints and a total sale of 134,000 copies until 1954, with a reissue in 1983 as Kipling’s Pocket History of England, is a testament to the appetite for such a narrative in some quarters.
Similarly, Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall's Our Island Story takes a less confrontational, yet equally political stance. Its Anglo-centric narrative positions the Irish, Scots, and Welsh almost exclusively in terms of their interactions with England. Here, history blurs into myth, weaving legendary figures like King Arthur into the chronicles of the past, crafting a narrative of the UK as an English expansionist saga. It's a subtle but undeniable colonial undertone, portraying England as a civilising force among barbaric lands. The book does more than recount history; it shapes perceptions, moulding attitudes towards Britain’s imperial past and its relations with its Celtic neighbours.
The politicisation of history education isn't limited to publishing. The ideological disputes surrounding England's national history curriculum in the late 1980s, particularly under Margaret Thatcher's critique of the 'New History' approach, highlight a preference for a traditional, chronological recounting of the past. This longing for a better past was best expressed by Conservative MP John Stokes, who lamented the loss of the days when students memorised the feats of British kings and queens, warriors, and their “glorious deeds".
This longing for the days of memorising the names and glories of monarchs was not simply nostalgia. Jingoistic narratives, including those propagated by the likes of Fletcher, Kipling and Marshall, prime the public to accept certain political narratives. Promoting certain historical narratives and approaches to studying history forwards some political agendas and disadvantages others. For example, the re-publication of Our Island Story in 2005, driven by right-wing organs like Civitas and the Daily Telegraph, was strategically aligned with pro-Union, Eurosceptic campaigns.
Similarly, during his tenure as Secretary of State for Education, Brexiter Michael Gove attempted to introduce significant reforms to the history curriculum, embedding a distinctively nationalistic narrative that highlighted Anglo-British milestones. His reforms, aimed at instilling national pride by centring on the exploits of 'Great Britons', were seen by some as a manoeuvre to embed nationalistic sentiment in the youth, potentially at the cost of a more inclusive, diverse and accurate historical understanding. This shift was criticised for propagating an Anglo-centric narrative, potentially neglecting the multifaceted and colonial aspects of Britain's past. Yet, for Gove and his supporters, this reorientation of the historical narrative was precisely the objective.
In essence, both A School History of England and Our Island Story, along with the debates over the 'New History' exemplify the deeply political nature of teaching history. These texts and policies do more than impart knowledge of the past; they are instruments in shaping the mindset of young Britons, framing their understanding of Britain’s imperial legacy, the composition of the United Kingdom, and its stance in the world stage, thereby influencing the nation's future direction.
These narratives falter when confronted with the stark realities of distinct historical experiences. The following three case studies will delve into celebrated British historical eras, revealing discrepancies with the dominant Anglo-centric narratives and underscoring the contested nature of the UK's shared history.
1. The Elizabethan Age: A Flourishing Realm?
David Starkey, a well-known conservative historian, described the Elizabethan age as a time of “English Renaissance” and a time to be remembered for the establishment of the Church of England, significant military victories and advancements in the arts.
In his work, he portrays it as a splendid epoch, characterised by artistic, religious, and military zeniths.
Such a portrayal, often mirrored in cinematic works, like Elizabeth: The Golden Age, casts this era in a light of unparalleled English splendour. Events such as the defeat of the Spanish Armada are frequently given prominence. However, this narrative tends to overshadow the complex and varied experiences across the broader British Isles, where perceptions of this time diverge sharply.
In Ireland, the Elizabethan era is recalled not for its cultural renaissance but as a period darkened by severe English oppression. Under Elizabeth's reign, the implementation of plantations—enforced settlements of English and Scottish colonists on Irish lands—amounted to what can be seen as acts of ethnic cleansing. This policy drastically altered Ireland's demographic and cultural landscape, introducing a regime of stringent oppression, forced displacement, land confiscation, and the systematic dilution of Irish culture and language.
The era was marked by staunch resistance against English religious and political imperialism, epitomised by the Nine Years' War (1594–1603), spearheaded by Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone. This conflict, a direct backlash against the subjugating policies of the English Crown, left a profound and enduring impact on Northern Ireland. From an Irish perspective, the Elizabethan Age unfolds not as a story of artistic and cultural blooming but as a harrowing narrative filled with famines, massacres, religious persecution, and invasions.
Similarly, the Scottish view of this period is less about renaissance and more about enduring political and religious discord. Elizabeth's involvement in the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, stands as a stark symbol of an era fraught with political intrigue and religious tension, marked by an atmosphere of suspicion and hostility.
The Welsh narrative during the Elizabethan age is nuanced, coming after a relatively recent annexation and subjugation to English rule. Wales wrestled with the imposition of English laws and the dominance of English aristocracy. Wales was often treated with disdain from Elizabeth’s court and regarded as wild, uncivilised and dangerous. Despite this, there were moments of cultural recognition, such as the translation of religious texts into Welsh, painting a complex picture of assimilation and cultural preservation under English dominance.
Viewed through the lens of each home nation, the Elizabethan Age emerges as a multifaceted tale. The grand English narratives of a golden age starkly contrast with the grim realities faced by the Irish, Scottish, and Welsh. A more balanced account of British history might seek to weave these disparate narratives together.
While events like the Spanish Armada's defeat had a substantial impact on England's rise as a global power, shaping its maritime and colonial ambitions, the Nine Years' War in Ulster had a more profound and direct influence on the internal dynamics of the United Kingdom, particularly in forging the fraught relationship between England and Ireland. Remarkably, despite its profound influence, the narrative of the Nine Years’ War remains overshadowed in the British educational curriculum by the more celebrated tale of the Spanish Armada, a disparity that highlights a selective memory of historical events.
Such comprehensive histories seldom align with the political narratives preferred by figures like Margaret Thatcher or Michael Gove, who favour stories of British triumph, renewal, and glory over those detailing internal strife, subjugation, and cultural turmoil. This selective historical portrayal serves to simplify a complex and contentious epoch to suit contemporary political agendas, privileging narratives of victory and magnificence while glossing over the darker aspects of the era’s impact on the broader British Isles.
2. The Glorious Revolution: A Unified Triumph?
Respected British Historian Edward Vallance, describes the conventional portrayal found in traditional British history texts concerning the Glorious Revolution, as “bloodless” and crucial for establishing "the supremacy of parliament over the crown" and setting Britain on its path to parliamentary democracy. However, Vallance also challenges this perspective by highlighting its omissions: notably, that the revolution was effectively a foreign invasion led by the Dutch Republic, and it glosses over the widespread fear of 'popery' at the time.
Traditional narratives tend to cast the revolution in a positive light, overlooking how it was prompted by James II’s attempts to grant Catholics the freedom to worship and to hold public office and motivated by anti-Catholic conspiracy theories. This fervor fueled popular support for the Dutch invasion that ultimately deposed the legally legitimate monarch, setting back the progress of religious freedom by centuries.
Vallance also highlights the significant bloodshed necessary to secure the revolution, making depictions of the revolution as “bloodless” Anglo-centric in the extreme. Scotland's experience was one steeped in a sense of betrayal and subjugation. The overthrow of King James II in favour of William of Orange and Mary II brought to the fore deep religious divisions within Scotland, with a significant Catholic minority and a powerful Presbyterian majority. Additionally, concerns over Scottish sovereignty and political autonomy emerged, as the ascension of William and Mary was perceived by some as an English imposition, igniting tensions about the union of the crowns and the autonomy of the Scottish Parliament.
The rise of Jacobitism, seeking to restore the Stuart monarchy, highlighted the dissatisfaction with the revolution among many Scots. Bloody battles and massacres resulted. The enforcement of Presbyterianism as the state religion and the subsequent Act of Union in 1707, seen as a loss of national sovereignty, further divided the nation. These events, marked by religious persecution, economic strife, and political upheaval, suggest that the term "glorious" does not aptly reflect the Scottish experience of the revolution.
In Ireland, the term “glorious” becomes bitterly ironic. The events of the Williamite War were a far cry from glorious, marked instead by brutal conflicts, repression, and a deepening of the sectarian divisions that had their roots in the Elizabethan era.
The warfare in Ireland was brutal and marked by several key battles, including the Siege of Derry and the Battle of the Boyne, culminating in the Battle of Aughrim, which was particularly bloody. These battles were characterized by significant bloodshed and loss of life, leaving deep scars on the Irish landscape and psyche.
The Treaty of Limerick (1691), ostensibly promised religious freedom and protection for the Catholic majority in a Protestant-controlled Ireland. Yet, the reality was starkly different; the treaty's civil articles were not honoured, rendering the promise of tolerance and protection a hollow one. The outcome of this invasion had far-reaching consequences, entrenching Protestant ascendancy in Ireland and exacerbating sectarian divides that persevered for centuries.
The consequences of the Williamite invasion for civil liberties in Ireland were profound and enduring. Following William's victory, the series of laws known as the Penal Laws were enacted, severely restricting the rights of Catholics and dissenting Protestants. These laws were not just religious in nature but also had socio-economic and political dimensions. For example, Catholics were barred from holding public office, receiving education, owning land, and even practicing their faith openly. This systematic discrimination aimed to solidify Protestant dominance and reduce the Catholic majority to a disenfranchised and impoverished class.
A more balanced view of the era challenges the triumphant tone adopted by traditional Whig accounts The stories of the Glorious Revolution vary dramatically, from the resounding tales of constitutional victories echoing in English halls to the hushed whispers of subjugation and betrayal in Scotland and Ireland.
Once again, we find that the suppression of some narratives and the elevation of others reflects the politicised nature of the dominant versions of British history. An Anglo-centric narrative is privileged in a way that underscores the intricate dynamics of power, perception, and history in the British Isles.
3. The Victorian Age of Progress
The Victorian Era is lauded for its grandeur, marked by an unprecedented industrial revolution and the vast expansion of the British Empire. Its ethos, often celebrated by conservative figures, finds a notable proponent in Jacob Rees-Mogg, the influential Conservative MP and broadcaster. He admires the Victorians for their robust "confidence in their civilising effort" and their steadfast belief in the "goodness of their own nation," hailing the significant "progress" achieved during this period.
Indeed, this era witnessed the dramatic growth of British cities, emblematic of the period's urban transformation and economic prosperity. Manchester, for example, burgeoned, becoming a symbol of England's rapid urbanisation and industrial success. This time is frequently mythologised as a 'Golden Age' of British history, a narrative rich with tales of advancement and empire.
As ever, this celebration often adopts an Anglo-centric perspective, overlooking the diverse and multifaceted experiences across the British Isles. While England basked in the glow of industrial progress, with its wealth of industries ranging from textiles to machinery, the narratives in Scotland and Wales diverged, reflecting their unique, intricate, and often challenging journeys through the same era. These nations experienced industrialisation as both a boon and a bane. Cities like Glasgow and the Rhondda Valleys symbolised the industrial surge, but their economic narratives were less diverse, heavily reliant on specific industries – shipbuilding in Scotland and coal mining in Wales. This lack of diversification planted the seeds of economic vulnerabilities, foreshadowing the social and economic challenges that these regions face today.
The cultural implications of this era were profound. In Scotland, the prevalence of English in industrial and urban areas contributed to the decline of Scottish Gaelic. A similar phenomenon occurred in Wales, where the influx of English workers led to a decline in the Welsh language and a seismic cultural shift. Industrialisation, in this context, transcended economic transformation; it became a vehicle for cultural erosion, a narrative less pronounced in England's industrial story.
One glaring omission from the popular narrative of this era is the Irish Famine. Amidst the prosperity and technological advancements in Great Britain, Ireland, then entirely a part of the UK, was plunged into one of the most catastrophic famines in history. The famine claimed a million lives and forced another million to emigrate, leading to a demographic decline that haunted Ireland for generations.
Two poignant statements encapsulate the roots of the disaster. Charles E. Trevelyan, the main given prime responsibility for famine relief efforts in Ireland, attributed the calamity to divine intervention, suggesting that "The judgement of God sent the calamity to teach the Irish a lesson, that calamity must not be too much mitigated." In stark contrast, John Mitchel bitterly pointed out, “Potatoes failed in like manner all over Europe; yet there was no famine save in Ireland. The Almighty, indeed, sent the potato blight, but the English created the famine".
The tragedy was the result of a complex interplay of economic exploitation, societal marginalisation, and political apathy. The decision to continue exporting food from Ireland during the famine highlighted a harrowing contradiction: a country ravaged by hunger amidst abundant harvests. The system of tenant farming, exacerbated by the absence of English landlords, severely disadvantaged the Irish, who toiled on fertile lands that offered them no food. The imposition of the Corn Laws, which levied tariffs on imported grain, further intensified the suffering of the Irish people.
When aid was eventually provided, it was often insufficient and came with demeaning stipulations, further insulting those in distress. This profound negligence was reinforced by demeaning stereotypes that branded the Irish as lazy or culpable for their misfortune, revealing a chilling mix of Victorian moral righteousness and colonial contempt.
While England, and much of the British Empire, basked in the era's prosperity, Ireland found itself ensnared in a devastating vortex of death, oppression, and neglect – a stark contrast to the celebrated narrative of progress and affluence.
Such inconvenient narratives are often relegated to footnotes as part of efforts to present a more ‘patriotic’ narrative. This approach not only glorifies certain aspects of British history but also subtly relegates the consequential events in Scotland, Wales, and Ireland to the periphery, thus rendering their profound impacts secondary. Had the famine unfolded in England, it would likely be remembered as a defining chapter in British history; however, its occurrence in another part of the UK has led to its significance being downplayed, and the inadequacies of British political response are often overlooked or excused.
The celebration of the Victorian era's ‘progress’ underlines a selective memory, one that conveniently overlooks the era's darker facets This selective remembrance acts as a political tool, reinforcing a vision of British history that accentuates heroic and admirable facets while obscuring its complex and often oppressive entanglements with its Celtic neighbours.
Britishness: A Fake Identity?
In previous sections, we have scrutinised the historical narratives and attitudes of political figures and parties, uncovering stories that cast doubt on the veracity of the much-vaunted "precious union." Now, we shift our focus to the sentiments of the ordinary people across the UK.
Every week, journalists and broadcasters announced some new poll purporting to reveal what the British public thinks about a particular subject. However, public attitudes research that covers the entire UK's attitudes is a rarity, with many surveys choosing to omit Northern Ireland entirely, due to its distinctiveness and smaller population.
Moreover, the failure to disaggregate data in studies covering Great Britain frequently obscures significant attitudinal differences between the home nations, painting an illusion of unity that belies the diversity within. The work of Professors Richard Wyn Jones and Ailsa Henderson avoids these errors by examining the differences between and within the home nations in detail.
Henderson and Wyn Jones delineate two prevailing forms of unionism: 'Muscular Unionism' and 'Ambivalent Unionism.' Muscular Unionism is characterised by a vigorous assertion of the primacy of a British identity, underpinned by policies and rhetoric that often override regional distinctiveness in favour of national unity. It is frequently associated with negative attitudes or policies towards the UK’s devolved administrations. Ambivalent Unionism, conversely, represents a more passive form of allegiance to the union, marked by an openness and/or indifference to its reconfiguration, including the potential independence of its constituent nations.
In their 2023 publication, the Ambivalent Union report reveals minimal support for muscular unionism and strong evidence of a more nuanced, ambivalent attitude towards the union among the UK populace. This nuanced perspective challenges the unified "precious union" narrative often promoted by political and media leaders, unveiling a broad range of opinions on the union's structure.
A significant portion of the population in Scotland (33%) and Northern Ireland (29%) firmly rejects the notion of a unified British nation, instead identifying strongly with their distinct sub-state nationalities. Although a plurality acknowledges and supports both British and sub-state identities, the concept that the British nation is the only legitimate nation still finds notable minority support, with percentages ranging from 26% in Wales to just 18% in Scotland. This array of viewpoints highlights the intricate nature of identity across the UK, prompting a re-evaluation of the prevalent "precious union" discourse in political and media dialogue, which often overlooks these diverse and competing interpretations of nationhood.
A favourite talking point of many political commentators is the idea of British values. The Ambivalent Union report demonstrates that attitudes towards the concept vary across the UK. A significant number in Scotland (47%), Northern Ireland (43%), Wales (35%), and even England (34%) are either highly sceptical or outright deny the very existence of 'British values'. This scepticism casts a shadow over the unionist argument that shared values underpin the “precious union”.
The ambivalence of people across the UK towards the union is reflected in the indifference many feel towards the prospect of other nations leaving the UK. For example, a majority in the other home nations expressed either a desire for Northern Ireland to reunify with Ireland or viewed reunification as an acceptable consequence of achieving their preferred Brexit outcome. Similar, but less pronounced sentiments are expressed with regard to Scotland. This willingness to reconsider the territorial integrity of the UK in light of Brexit aspirations reflects a transactional and conditional view of the union.
Perhaps one of the most striking revelations from their research is the so-called "union of grievance," where a pervasive belief exists among the home nations of unfair advantages and distribution of resources. Support for solidarity, though popular in principle, wanes under closer scrutiny. The notion of redistributing wealth across the UK for equitable public services finds broad support, however only 15% of those in Wales are enthusiastic about sharing revenue with Scotland and only 32% of English respondents backed sharing with Wales or Northern Ireland.
An exploration of Britishness reveals varied perceptions across the home nations, with its interpretation differing significantly between the Celtic nations and England. In Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland, Britishness tends to correlate with conservative stances, including immigration reduction, euroscepticism, and a positive view of the UK's imperial past. Interestingly, these conservative views are not linked with British identity in England, but are instead correlated with English identity.
In their book, Englishness: The Political Force Transforming Britain, Henderson and Wyn Jones document the dramatic rise of English nationalism over the past three decades. In 1992, English individuals predominantly identified as British over English by a 2:1 ratio when asked to choose. Fast forward to 2011, and English residents were more likely to identify as English and not British.
As we have noted earlier in this chapter, disentangling Britishness and Englishness is complicated. Henderson and Wyn Jones detail research indicating that when asked about either pride in Britishness/Englishness, English respondents generally rate the same items highly, including the NHS, the Queen, Britain’s democratic tradition, the English language and literature and the sacrifice in the world wars. The symbols, values and institutions related to the identities are largely the same and yet the attitudes of those identifying as English and not British differ substantially from those who identify as British and not English.
One study highlighted that English respondents were significantly more likely to perceive the EU as having a dominant influence in their region, 3-5 times more than respondents in most other European regions. However, this view was far more likely to be observed in 2016 if the English respondent identified as English-only. While 57% of respondents who identified as English-only endorsed the idea that said that the EU had the most influence over their lives, only 26% of those who identified as British but not English endorsed the statement.
Similar research from 2016 demonstrated a strong correlation between prioritising English identity over British identity and hostility towards immigrants, particularly from Africa, Pakistan, Romania, and Syria. Among those identifying as English but not British, 67% agreed that immigration pressures public services, compared to just 26% of those seeing themselves as British not English. Additionally, 46% of the English-identifiers believed immigration harms the economy, versus only 11% of the British-identifiers. Regarding cultural impact, 55% of the English identifying group felt immigration dilutes their culture, in stark contrast to 13% of the British identifying group.
This identity shift in England is partly attributed to the devolution processes in Wales, Northern Ireland, and particularly Scotland, leading to what's termed 'Devo-anxiety'—the sentiment that England is at a disadvantage due to these constitutional changes, calling for greater recognition of England's uniqueness. English nationalism, unlike its Welsh, Scottish, and Irish counterparts, does not inherently oppose the union but rather questions England's supposedly reduced role within it. English nationalism often repurposes the post-colonial rhetoric associated with nationalism in the Celtic nations, focusing on issues like Devo-anxiety, euroscepticism, and anti-immigration sentiments.
Before Brexit, this nationalism framed England as marginalised by the British state, overlooked in public discourse, neglected following devolution, and restricted by the EU's influence. The Leave campaign and recent Conservative electoral campaigns strategically appealed to English nationalists by emphasising sovereignty, control over immigration, and the restoration of perceived lost English autonomy, tapping into a deep-seated sense of English identity and grievance over perceived marginalisation within the EU and the broader UK political framework.
An intriguing aspect of English nationalism is the desire for Scotland's independence from the UK, driven by the perception that Scotland benefits excessively from the union. Comparisons between English and British identifiers in England also show that those with an English identity are more supportive of punitive measures against Scotland post-independence. The paradox of many English nationalists desiring Scotland's departure from the UK while also advocating for punitive measures post-independence reflects a complex mix of resentment and retribution, illustrating that, at least symbolically, English nationalists value the union and view leaving it as an act deserving retribution, despite their criticisms of how it is managed in practice.
During the 2015 general election campaign, the Conservative Party leveraged English nationalist sentiment and heightened anti-Scottish sentiment. Lynton Crosby, leading the campaign, conducted focus groups that revealed English voters inclined towards UKIP or the Lib Dems were strongly opposed to the prospect of a Labour government supported by the Scottish National Party (SNP). As a result, the Conservatives created campaign materials to exploit this animosity, including a poster showing Labour leader Ed Miliband in SNP leader Alex Salmond's pocket.
The British political and media establishment's frequent conflation of "Britishness" with Englishness stems from a mix of pragmatic and ideological motives, alongside a pervasive cycle of ignorance. Pragmatically, this approach aims to unify the UK's diverse populace under a supposedly inclusive "British" banner, avoiding alienation of non-English constituents while implicitly discussing England. Ideologically, there's a deep-rooted implicit belief that Britain, or the UK, constitutes a singular, superior entity, with England's demographic dominance viewed as an incidental truth, thus making the promotion of "Britishness" a moral imperative.
This perspective is further entrenched by the media and political establishment's makeup— disproportionately English, middle-class, and privately educated individuals who seldom interact with the wider spectrum of nationalist sentiments across the UK. Their isolated experiences and second-hand understanding of nationalism through media and political channels perpetuate a disconnect from the varied and deeply felt conceptualisations of the union, fuelling a continuous cycle of misunderstanding and oversight.
The discourse on the "precious union" and "Britishness" not only misaligns with the complex realities of public attitudes across the United Kingdom but also inadvertently fuels a backlash that underscores and amplifies existing national tensions. The establishment’s tendency to use "Britishness", "Britain", and the "UK" as veiled references to England and Englishness incites consternation both in the Celtic nations and among English nationalists. In the former, it is perceived as a deliberate obfuscation of English dominance, portraying an illusory unity that neglects their distinct identities, needs and aspirations. Conversely, English nationalists view the avoidance of explicitly acknowledging ‘English’ affairs and identity within this ‘British’ framework as implying that Englishness is somehow shameful, sparking a demand for the distinct recognition and respect afforded to Celtic nations.
This dual dynamic of discontent not only deepens the divisions within the UK but also highlights the counterproductive nature of current approaches to national identity, suggesting a pressing need to confront the reality of the situation.
Summing up the paradox, Richard Wyn Jones observes “the idea that there is a single understanding of Britishness, held and cherished across all four constituent territories of the UK, is a myth. Instead, there are multiple, territorially-differentiated versions of British identity that stand in a very uneasy – even contradictory – relationship with each other. This suggests in turn that attempts by recent UK governments to champion a single version of Britishness, to buttress what some have termed ‘the precious Union’, are not only doomed to failure but are likely to be self-defeating.”
This discrepancy between public attitudes and the rhetoric of press and politicians underscores the perniciousness of the "precious union" narrative, highlighting its misalignment with the realities of the UK populace. The complex identities and grievances shaping the UK's contemporary political landscape suggest that the narrative of a unified British identity is not only misleading but also potentially destabilising, underlining the need for a more inclusive and differentiated understanding of national identity within the UK.
An Explanatory Interlude
Later in this chapter, we will merge our exploration of the fragile foundations supporting the notion of a "precious union," heralded by shared history, goals and values, with a critical examination of its impacts, particularly through the lens of the British government's approach to Northern Ireland during the Brexit referendum and negotiations. However, as revealed in our earlier explorations of history, there is a widespread lack of awareness beyond Northern Ireland's borders about its complex history and the grave risks Brexit posed to its hard-won peace process.
To fully understand the consequences of Anglo-centric perspectives and the deep-seated belief in the union's sanctity on policymaking, we must first navigate through Northern Ireland's turbulent past. This historical context is essential for appreciating how the UK's collective historical amnesia, coupled with misguided policies, not only undermines unity but also endangers the fragile equilibrium maintaining peace in Northern Ireland.
The Curious Case of Northern Ireland
Northern Ireland's historical tapestry is interwoven with clan rivalries, religious discord, and political tensions, stretching back centuries. This narrative begins long before 1169, but it was the Norman invasion of Ireland in this year, led by Richard de Clare (Strongbow), that marked the commencement of significant external British influence on the island of Ireland, altering the region's socio-political landscape profoundly.
Between the 12th and 14th centuries, the English Crown witnessed the gradual assimilation of Anglo-Norman settlers with the Gaelic Irish, leading to several military campaigns aimed at reasserting control. The phenomenon of settlers ‘going native,’ adopting Irish customs and language, diluted English influence, encapsulated in the complaint from London that the settler populations had become, "more Irish than the Irish themselves."
The 17th century's Ulster Plantation marked a pivotal shift. Unlike previous settlements, this was a well-organised, large-scale effort by the Crown to establish a loyal, Protestant population in Northern Ireland. This move was not just about territorial control; it was about imposing a new religious, social and political order, replacing Catholic landowners with Protestant settlers from England and Scotland, effectively creating a stronghold of loyalty amid a restive native population.
The Ulster Plantation's success in establishing a permanent settler community was due to its meticulous planning, scale, and the systematic approach taken. The religious divide between Protestant settlers and Catholic natives was used to create an insurmountable barrier to assimilation, fostering distinct identities. Laws favouring Protestants over Catholics entrenched this divide, creating a hierarchy that influenced social and economic dynamics in the region.
The 17th and 18th centuries saw multiple Irish rebellions against English rule, evidencing the native Irish populace's discontent. The 1800 Act of Union, merging Great Britain and Ireland, ignited further nationalist sentiments. The 19th century's Catholic Emancipation and Home Rule movements, championed by figures like Daniel O'Connell and Charles Stewart Parnell, faced fierce opposition from many members of the Protestant community. This was particularly evident in the north where a Protestant majority was fearful of becoming a persecuted minority under an Irish parliament, were Catholics to have voting rights.
The early 20th century was a period of heightened tensions, marked by the formation of the Ulster Volunteers and the Irish Volunteers, each defending contrasting political aspirations with regard to Home Rule. World War I temporarily suspended these tensions, but the 1916 Easter Rising reignited the struggle for Irish independence. The ensuing Anglo-Irish War culminated in the 1921 Anglo-Irish Treaty, creating the Irish Free State and leaving Northern Ireland as part of the United Kingdom.
Following the partition in 1922, Northern Ireland witnessed a fragile status quo that endured until the late 1960s. The governance of the region was chiefly under the Unionist Party, which was overwhelming Protestant and aimed to uphold Northern Ireland's allegiance to the United Kingdom. Conversely, the predominantly Catholic Nationalist minority aspired for a united Ireland, often confronting systemic discrimination particularly in housing, employment, and other social domains. This discrimination was a manifestation of the entrenched sectarian divide that pervaded the political, economic, and social spheres.
The post-partition calm was disrupted in the late 1950s by the IRA's border campaign, an effort to draw attention to, and ultimately end, the partition of Ireland. However, it was the rise of the civil rights movement and growing nationalist sentiment in the late 1960s that significantly intensified the discontent, precipitating the Troubles. The Civil Rights Movement, drawing inspiration from global civil rights struggles, emerged in the late 1960s, targeting systemic discrimination in voting rights, housing, and employment. The movement's growing momentum, characterised by protests and marches, often faced violent backlash from loyalist paramilitaries and the predominantly Protestant Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC) and the B-Special Reserves.
The escalation of tensions reached a critical point with the Battle of the Bogside in August 1969, a three-day conflict in Derry between the RUC and Catholic residents. This was accompanied by violent confrontations in Belfast and other areas, collectively known as the August Riots. The rapidly deteriorating situation, with local law enforcement overwhelmed, led to a crisis that London could not ignore. In response to the escalating violence, the Northern Ireland government requested British intervention. Consequently, on 14th August 1969, the British Army was deployed, initially with the objective of pacifying the situation, separating the conflicting communities and supporting the Stormont government. The formation of the Provisional IRA in December 1969 was, in part, a reaction this.
At first, the Nationalist community broadly welcomed the British Army's presence. The change in the Nationalist community's perception of the British Army was largely due to the army's heavy-handed tactics, including harassment, abuse, and lethal force targeted against Catholics. Notable incidents, such as the Ballymurphy Massacre and Bloody Sunday, where soldiers killed unarmed civilians without provocation, severely strained relations. The introduction of internment without trial in 1971, targeting Catholics, was perceived as both discriminatory and a violation of civil liberties. Such instances of perceived impunity and lack of accountability for the British Army's actions cemented a narrative of oppression and injustice within the nationalist community.
The escalation of Republican paramilitary actions during the Troubles contributed to a corresponding surge in loyalist paramilitary activity. Many within the loyalist community perceived the British Army and the police as being restricted by political and operational limitations, which, in their view, curtailed the effectiveness of these forces in counteracting Republican paramilitary threats. This perception fostered a belief among loyalists that their own paramilitary actions were not only justified but necessary to fill the void left by the official security forces. They considered their efforts as supplementary to the formal mechanisms of law and order, aiming to defend the Protestant community against what they saw as an existential threat from the increasing influence and aggression of Republican paramilitaries.
Over time, nationalists came to believe that the British Army was colluding with the loyalists, rather than maintaining an impartial peacekeeping role. Incidents of collusion and leniency towards loyalist violence deepened nationalist resentment. The military's pervasive presence, characterised by patrols, checkpoints, and raids, began to resemble an occupation rather than a protective force, exacerbating tensions further.
Efforts to establish peace in the 1970s and 1980s, including the Sunningdale Agreement (1973) and the Anglo-Irish Agreement (1985), failed to achieve lasting stability. The Sunningdale Agreement, which proposed a power-sharing executive and a cross-border Council of Ireland, was undermined by a general strike led by Loyalist paramilitaries and Unionist political opposition. The Anglo-Irish Agreement, granting the Irish government an advisory role in Northern Irish governance, also faced strong Unionist opposition.
The peace process gained traction in the 1990’s, bolstered by shifts in the political landscape, including Republican electoral success and changes in the British and Irish governments' positions. Secret discussions between government officials and paramilitary organisations paved the way for ceasefires by both the IRA and loyalist groups in 1994, marking a significant step towards resolving the long-standing conflict.
The peace process culminated in the Good Friday Agreement signed in Belfast on April 10, 1998. This landmark accord was the result of multi-party negotiations and had the backing of the British and Irish governments and international guarantees. The Good Friday Agreement addressed various contentious issues including the constitutional status of Northern Ireland, the decommissioning of paramilitary weapons, the reform of the police, British military withdrawal and the establishment of institutions for cross-border cooperation.
Key provisions of the Good Friday Agreement included the recognition of the consent principle, which stated that Northern Ireland's constitutional status could not change without the consent of a majority of its population, and the establishment of a devolved, inclusive government where power would be shared between unionists and nationalists. It also provided for the early release of paramilitary prisoners and the establishment of the Human Rights and Equality Commissions.
The Good Friday Agreement was endorsed by referendums in both Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland in May 1998. The implementation of the agreement, however, faced numerous challenges including disagreements over the decommissioning of weapons and the suspension of the devolved government on several occasions.
Despite these challenges, the Good Friday Agreement marked a significant turning point in Northern Ireland’s history, bringing an end to large-scale violence and laying the groundwork for a more cooperative and peaceful political climate. The period post-Good Friday Agreement has seen substantial progress in terms of political cooperation, economic development, and social reconciliation, even though sectarian divisions and related issues continue to pose challenges.
The signing of the Good Friday Agreement was a monumental step towards ending a dark chapter in Northern Ireland's history. It symbolised hope and the possibility of a peaceful coexistence after decades of conflict, and its impact continues to be felt in the political and social fabric of Northern Ireland.
Brexit and the Good Friday Agreement
The information provided in the previous section has likely equipped you with a deeper understanding of Northern Ireland's complexities than many British politicians possess. The basis for this claim will become increasingly evident as we delve into the ramifications of the UK government's policies during the Brexit period on the peace process in Northern Ireland. It is important to recognise, however, that the historical overview presented is by no means exhaustive. It serves as an introductory guide to the region's intricate and tumultuous past rather than a detailed chronicle. Its purpose is to give the reader sufficient insight to understand the mistakes of British politicians during the Brexit period.
From this preliminary exploration, one thing should become abundantly clear: the peace process in Northern Ireland represents an extraordinary feat. It established a multi-layered, collaborative framework that reconciled the divergent goals of various communities and brought a peaceful end to a conflict that had persisted in various guises for over eight centuries. This achievement cannot be overstated, marking a pivotal moment in the history of not only Northern Ireland but also of peace processes worldwide. However, the Brexit campaign leading up to the 2016 referendum largely overlooked or under-discussed the unique circumstances of Northern Ireland, including the potential repercussions on the peace process established by the Good Friday Agreement.
Former British Prime Ministers Tony Blair and John Major warned about the implications of Brexit on Northern Ireland's peace process prior to the Brexit referendum. On June 9, 2016, they united in Derry to highlight the risks that Brexit posed to the Northern Ireland peace process, stating that it could undermine the stability in the region. Blair stated that it would be "profoundly foolish to take risk with the foundations of the peace in Northern Ireland" by voting to leave the EU. Their warning underscored that a vote to leave the EU would jeopardise the unity of the United Kingdom by undermining the peace in Northern Ireland, thus potentially plunging the region into a new era of instability.
Amidst this backdrop, Theresa Villiers, then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland and a proponent of Brexit, symbolized the tension between political ambition and the stewardship of peace. Despite explicit warnings to the contrary, she asserted, "the land border with Ireland can remain as free-flowing after a Brexit vote as it is today," blatantly disregarding the complex realities on the ground. Her stance, seemingly in pursuit of political gains, betrayed a worrisome disregard for the delicate peace in Northern Ireland.
The Northern Ireland dimension of Brexit was rarely mentioned by those campaigning for Remain in Britain. Matthew O’Toole, who worked as part of David Cameron’s Number 10 Comms team during the referendum described the decision to ignore the issue as being based on an impression that “English voters” were not going to “care all that much about it”. England’s population dominance meant that there was an imperative to focus on the issue’s England considered important. Similarly, there was a reluctance to emphatically challenge the claims of people like Villiers because a decision had been made to minimise “blue-on-blue” attacks.
The political landscape within Northern Ireland further complicated the Brexit debate. The Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), historically opposed to the Good Friday Agreement championed Brexit as a reinforcement of British sovereignty. In contrast, the Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), a proponent of the GFA, advocated for remaining in the EU, highlighting the socio-economic benefits of membership. The largest nationalist party, Sinn Féin, called for a remain vote, despite a history of Euroscepticism, while the smaller nationalist and more moderate Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP) also stood firmly in the Remain camp, warning of the risks to the peace process and the potential re-emergence of a hard border with Ireland. The Alliance Party, which appeals to unionists, nationalists and non-aligned voters, also supported staying in the EU, citing concerns over the Good Friday Agreement and cross-community relations.
The referendum's results in Northern Ireland, where 56% voted to remain, illustrated a deep-seated divide, reflecting a complex interplay of political, social, and identity issues. Among nationalists, a striking 88% cast their votes in favour of Remain, in stark contrast to the 34% of self-described unionists who voted similarly.
This mosaic of perspectives underscored the unique challenges Brexit posed to Northern Ireland, intertwining policy preferences with deep-seated issues of identity and the shadows of past conflicts. The vote laid bare Northern Ireland's critical, yet often overlooked, role in the Brexit debate, signalling a period of uncertainty and adaptation ahead.
The State of Stormont During Brexit
During Brexit negotiations, a significant crisis erupted leading to the dissolution of the Northern Ireland Assembly (Stormont). The crisis was triggered by the Renewable Heat Incentive (RHI) scandal, a failed energy scheme which was anticipated to cause a significant overspend of public funds.
Accusations of corruption and incompetence with regard to First Minister Arlene Foster of the DUP led to the resignation of the Deputy First Minister, Sinn Féin’s, Martin McGuinness However, his resignation was not just a consequence of the RHI scandal but also stemmed from broader grievances regarding the DUP's handling of issues such as the Irish language and legacy issues from the Troubles.
The resignation effectively collapsed the power-sharing executive as Sinn Féin chose not to nominate a replacement for McGuinness, which was a requirement for the government to continue functioning under the power-sharing agreement.
In the ensuing Assembly elections held in March 2017, the DUP and Sinn Féin emerged as the largest parties, yet the Assembly remained suspended as both parties failed to reach a consensus on key issues to restore the power-sharing executive. The political vacuum in Stormont persisted, creating a scenario of direct rule from Westminster, albeit unofficially.
Westminster Makes Matters Worse
In the UK General Election held in June 2017, the Conservative Party led by Theresa May lost its majority in the House of Commons. To maintain power, the Conservatives entered into a ‘confidence and supply’ agreement with the DUP. The arrangement entailed the DUP supporting the Conservative government on key votes in the UK Parliament, including Brexit-related matters, in return for additional funding for Northern Ireland.
Sinn Féin, and other Northern Ireland parties argued that such an arrangement would see the British government incapable of acting impartiality with regard to solving the Stormont crisis. They asserted that the Conservative-DUP pact violated the Good Friday Agreement. However, this was widely ignored in Great Britain.
This agreement brought the DUP into a position of significant influence at a UK-wide level, particularly concerning Brexit negotiations. In effect, the Tory party would be dependent on their votes and so they would be the only Northern Irish party with any substantial influence over government policy. The British government’s decision to ally themselves with the DUP effectively ended the possibility of resolving the Stormont crisis. In Northern Ireland, it looked as though the Conservatives had put their party interests ahead of those of Northern Ireland and their duties under the Good Friday Agreement.
A striking feature of this episode was the response in England to the Conservative-DUP agreement. Media outlets, both print and broadcast, prominently featured segments asking, "Who are the DUP?" This widespread ignorance was remarkable, considering the DUP has been represented in the House of Commons since 1971. After almost 50 years of representation, British journalists had finally found the DUP worthy of attention, but only because it could now affect English politics.
Critical Misjudgements: The Troubling Oversights of Northern Ireland's Secretaries of State
The trajectory of mismanagement and oversight regarding Northern Ireland within the British government is underscored by examining the tenures of its Secretaries of State. Earlier, we discussed Villier’s negligence and prioritisation of her own career over her duties as Secretary of State for Northen Ireland. She was followed by James Brokenshire and later Karen Bradley.
Brokenshire’s reign was marred by a seeming inability to understand that his role required impartiality and objectivity. This was evident from his opposition to investigating or prosecuting alleged perpetrators of state violence. In September 2016, relatives of those killed by British soldiers during the Ballymurphy Massacre walked out of a meeting with Brokenshire. They described the meeting as “terrible” because Brokenshire was vetoing an investigation into the killing of 11 civilians by the British army in 1971. As the DUP opposed investigations into state violence, politicians from other Northern Irish parties accused Brokenshire of having given a veto to the DUP over legacy investigations.
Brokenshire compounded his error when he chose the 45th anniversary of the Bloody Sunday massacre to write an opinion piece where he claimed that there was a "disproportionate focus" on the actions of British state forces in legal prosecutions. This stance met with statistical rebuttals from prosecutors who pointed out that terrorists were actually investigated at a rate five times higher than that of soldiers and police officers.
It also ignored the important context of the Troubles where state killings of civilians were frequently not investigated or covered up, while paramilitary prosecutions were pursued with passion. A majority of those killed by security forces were civilians and only a handful of prosecutions ever resulted.
Reacting to Brokenshire’s comments, Michelle O’Neil of Sinn Féin described Brokenshire as “partisan” and not an “honest broker”. Brokenshire had been due to chair talks designed to restore the Stormont government, however his comments meant that he as no longer able to do so. SDLP leader Colum Eastwood summed up nationalist sentiment when he said “If James Brokenshire thinks for one second he can be independent talks chair, he's absolutely wrong.” Brokenshire’s role was eventually delegated to a civil servant instead.
By January of 2018, Brokenshire had been replaced by Karen Bradley. Her appointment, seemingly driven more by her allegiance to Prime Minister May than by any relevant expertise on Northern Ireland, spoke volumes about the government's approach to the region. In September 2018, Bradley was interviewed by House magazine Bradley admitted that she had been unable to distinguish between a Nationalist and a Unionist prior to her appointment.
Bradley’s brief reign was marked by the kind of errors you would expect from someone ignorant of the Troubles. She alienated relatives of victims of British Army violence, such as those affected by the Bloody Sunday and Ballymurphy Massacres, with her tone-deaf claim that actions carried out by members of the British security forces were "not crimes" but professional duties executed in a "dignified and appropriate way." This statement sparked outrage among those still grieving and seeking justice, but would have been received as commonsense in her own constituency.
Bradley was eventually replaced by Julian Smith in January 2019. Unlike his predecessors, Smith was widely respected in Northern Ireland. He had been instrumental in the success of talks to help restore the Northern Ireland executive after three years of deadlock. Victims of abuse praised Smith for his willingness to listen and he cultivated warm relationships with his counterparts in the Irish government. Smith was unceremoniously sacked by Boris Johnson after just 204 days because Johnson believed he was insufficiently loyal due to his criticism of Johnson’s plans for the prorogation of parliament. His record of competency was regarded as irrelevant.
The appointments and dismissals of the Secretaries of State for Northern Ireland reveal a disturbing stance towards the region. The pattern of appointing individuals lacking crucial understanding or engagement with Northern Ireland’s intricate political landscape, alongside the dismissal of those who demonstrated competence and a genuine commitment to its peace process, speaks volumes.
Julian Smith’s abrupt sacking, despite his significant contributions to restoring the Northern Ireland Executive, points to a prioritisation of factional allegiance over the tangible progress and stability in Northern Ireland. This approach not only undermines the delicate peace process but also reflects a broader indifference or misalignment of priorities within the British government's handling of Northern Irish affairs.
Blind Spots and Oversights: The Cabinet and Tory Party's Approach to Northern Ireland During Brexit Negotiations
The legacy of Northern Ireland's past, marred by conflict and the pursuit of peace, cannot be laid at the feet of its Secretaries of State alone. Their actions, often criticised for significant oversights, echo broader sentiments within the Tory Party and, by extension, the British media landscape. This reflection suggests a systemic issue, transcending individual roles and pointing to a collective mindset that has influenced policy and perception regarding Northern Ireland.
Prime Minister Theresa May's alignment with James Brokenshire's perspective in 2018 on the prosecutions related to the Troubles underscores a prevailing narrative within the Tory Party. May echoing Brokenshire, claimed, "we have an unfair situation at the moment," suggesting that the focus of investigations was disproportionately on the Armed Forces and law enforcement in Northern Ireland. This statement blatantly ignored substantial evidence indicating that the majority of investigations and prosecutions targeted paramilitary perpetrators, not state forces. May's stance not only angered victims and misrepresented the reality of accountability efforts but also revealed a politicised approach to the delicate issue of legacy prosecutions.
The enactment of the Legacy and Reconciliation Bill under Boris Johnson, later operationalised during Rishi Sunak's premiership, epitomises the legislative efforts to navigate the Troubles' complex legacy. While ostensibly designed to foster reconciliation, the bill—granting widespread immunity for offenses during the conflict—faced unanimous opposition within Northern Ireland. Criticised for sidelining justice and reconciliation in favour of electoral considerations in England, the legislation marked a significant deviation from prior peace commitments and international standards. The resultant legal challenge from the Irish government underscores the deep rifts the bill has exacerbated, not only within Northern Ireland but also straining UK-Ireland relations. A judicial ruling in Belfast, declaring the bill's conditional immunity provisions in violation of human rights law, further highlights the cavalier nature of the approach adopted by Tory politicians over the past decade.
Just as the actions of May, Johnson and Sunak mirrored Brokenshire’s problematic approach to legacy prosecutions, Dominic Rabb’s wilful ignorance of the peace process mirrored Karen Bradley’s failings. Appearing before the Northern Ireland Affairs Select Committee, he was asked by Unionist MP Lady Sylvia Hermon if he had read the Good Friday Agreement. His response: “Well, I haven’t sat down, and started from the beginning and gone through it,” was startling, considering his role as Brexit secretary in negotiating a deal aimed at protecting this very agreement. Raab defended his lack of thorough engagement by claiming the agreement was not a "cracking read novel."
Ignorance of the region was not confined just to politicians, but to civil servants and political advisors. Matthew O’Toole, as previously noted, served as a civil servant at Number 10 during the Brexit period. He described the astonishment of many British civil servants and politicians over the EU’s prioritisation of Northern Ireland during negotiations: “There was no expectation among the key advisors – of which I wasn’t one obviously – that the EU and Irish Government were going to make this a phase one issue.” O’Toole also noted a pervasive ignorance among English officials and politicians regarding the political ethos of Northern Ireland parties. He recounted, “People totally misread how the DUP would react. I remember even serious people saying, ‘There definitely won’t be a hard border now, because the DUP won’t let that happen’.” Politicians and officials failed to understand that the DUP was opposed to the Good Friday Agreement and many DUP politicians were perfectly willing to accept a hardened land border in Northern Ireland if it ensured their departure from the EU on equal terms with the rest of the UK. Indeed, someone within the DUP would have welcomed a hard land border precisely because it might make Irish unification more difficult.
Many pro-Brexit politicians seemed in denial about the seriousness of the border issue. MP John Redwood's comments exemplify this attitude: “A desperate EU now says it will impose a hard border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. The UK should carry on with its plans for no hard border controls when we leave the EU and the customs union which it has set out in published papers. We need not impose any new barriers on the UK side of the border. Will the EU really insist on them on the Republic side? They would be wise to work with the UK to ensure good arrangements on both sides of the border.” Despite such unfounded optimism, expert advice suggested that maintaining a seamless border was not as feasible as some in the British government hoped. Nonetheless, this didn't stop politicians and commentators from indulging in wishful thinking about resolving the Northern Ireland border issue.
A common oversight was focusing on the physical aspects of the border, neglecting its functional and symbolic dimensions. Proposals frequently revolved around relocating border checks and employing technology for monitoring, misunderstanding the complexities posed by a land border on the island of Ireland. Creating two sets of border posts or relying on technological surveillance was not conducive to protecting the peace process or adhering to international customs standards. Such magical thinking often seemed related to the assumption that Northern Ireland could not possibly be so important as to influence the outcome of a decision made by Westminster.
The frustration among English politicians about Northern Ireland's centrality was epitomised by Stanley Johnson, who expressed on ITV’s Good Morning: “It’s quite intolerable that this whole question of the Northern Ireland border has come to dominate the decision over the future of our country.” His dismissive remark, “if the Irish want to shoot each other they will shoot each other whether there’s a hard border or whether there is a soft border,” was particularly jarring. Stanley’s son, Boris, echoed his sentiment claiming that “it’s just beyond belief that we’re allowing the tail to wag the dog in this way.”
The Johnsons were not alone. The sentiment of frustration among Brexit supporters regarding the Good Friday Agreement's impact on Brexit negotiations was widespread. A Tory “grandee” told BBC's Newsnight, that the Irish should "know their place," and a Labour Brexiter MP who questioned the sustainability of the Good Friday Agreement if it hindered Brexit. Additionally, Owen Paterson, a former Northern Ireland Secretary, shared an article challenging the agreement's current relevance, reflecting a broader scepticism and exasperation with the emphasis placed on the agreement during this tumultuous period.
Backstops, Frontstops and Breaking International Law
The root of the Border problem lay with Theresa May's decision to appease the hardline Brexiters in her party by announcing the UK's departure from the Customs Union and the Single Market. According to O’Toole, May failed to understand the implications of this for Northern Ireland and the peace process: “She definitely had not made the connection between the red lines she was setting out and her theoretical commitment to Northern Ireland.”
Theresa May's strategy to navigate the Brexit conundrum included the introduction of the Northern Ireland backstop within her EU Withdrawal Agreement. This backstop was a safeguard, designed to come into effect if future UK-EU trade agreements failed to eliminate the need for a hard border. Its purpose was to maintain Northern Ireland's alignment with certain EU regulations to avoid a hard border on the island of Ireland. However, the backstop soon became a major point of contention. Tory critics expressed concerns that it might indefinitely bind the UK to the EU. Boris Johnson astutely capitalised on this dissatisfaction, positioning himself as a staunch opponent of May's Brexit strategy and appealing to those who deemed the backstop an unacceptable concession.
Johnson's portrayal of the backstop as a unpatriotic failure garnered him substantial support among Brexit hardliners, ultimately precipitating his leadership challenge and leading to May's resignation. In his bid for leadership, Johnson assured the DUP and unionists there would be no trade border in the Irish Sea, famously declaring in the House of Commons, “No British Prime Minister could countenance an Irish Sea Border.”
Yet, in a dramatic turn of events, Johnson's new withdrawal agreement with the EU in October 2019 supplanted the Irish backstop with a 'frontstop' arrangement. This new deal, titled the Northern Ireland Protocol, stipulated the UK's exit from the EU customs union, while Northern Ireland would adhere to a selection of Single Market rules on goods, thus avoiding a customs border on the island of Ireland. In doing so, Johnson reneged on his promise to unionists, effectively agreeing to an Irish Sea Border. The subsequent general election delivered a Conservative majority, significantly diminishing the DUP's influence over the Conservative Party.
Subsequently in 2020, Johnson introduced the Internal Market Bill, a controversial piece of legislation designed to allow the UK to unilaterally modify or disregard its agreements with the EU. This move was controversial as it would involve breaking international law by reneging on the legally binding Withdrawal Agreement with the EU. The government acknowledged this intention, which sparked significant domestic and international criticism, including from former Prime Ministers and the EU, exacerbating tensions.
After intense negotiations, the UK and the EU reached an agreement in December 2020 on the implementation of the Northern Ireland Protocol. Subsequently, the controversial parts of the Internal Market Bill—specifically, those that would have overridden the Withdrawal Agreement—were removed. The bill passed through Parliament without the provisions that would breach international law.
The conclusion of the Brexit negotiations underscored a profound dichotomy in the British government's approach, leaving a legacy of mistrust and feelings of betrayal among its key partners and stakeholders. From nationalists and unionists in Northern Ireland to Ireland and the European Union, the British government's strategies—driven by ignorance, internal Conservative Party politics and the quest for English electoral advantage—sowed discord and discontent, overshadowing commitments to the Northern Ireland peace process. Its willingness to break international agreements casts a long shadow over the UK’s reliability as a negotiating partner.
Summary
The Brexit period, marked by complex negotiations and evolving policies, cast a revealing light on the British government's handling of Northern Ireland's delicate situation. Through the lens of political manoeuvres and legislative actions, a pattern of neglect, ignorance, indifference and strategic missteps becomes evident, underpinning the relationship between the British government and Northern Ireland.
The overarching narrative of the Brexit negotiations reveals a British government willing to prioritise party politics and electoral considerations over the fragile balance of peace in Northern Ireland. British politicians, often lacking a basic understanding of Northern Ireland's intricate socio-political landscape, tended to marginalise its importance. This disregard was not only evident in their approach to Brexit negotiations but also reflected in the broader political discourse, where loyalty to party and faction agendas frequently trumped expertise and competence in governing Northern Ireland. Such attitudes led to the appointment of officials like Theresa Villiers, James Brokenshire and Karen Bradley, whose tenures as Secretaries of State for Northern Ireland were marred by significant oversight and a failure to grasp the region's complexities.
The Conservative Party's alliance with the DUP, driven by a quest for electoral advantage in the UK, further exemplified the willingness to compromise the integrity of international agreements, including the Good Friday Agreement. The introduction of the Northern Ireland Protocol and the Internal Market Bill showcased a readiness to alter commitments unilaterally, exacerbating tensions with not only Northern Ireland's communities but also international partners. Despite the opposition these actions faced within Northern Ireland and the subsequent legal challenges, the British government continued to rationalise its policies as beneficial, a stance largely unchallenged by English voters and media.
The culmination of these events—ranging from the mishandling of the Northern Ireland backstop to the controversial Legacy and Reconciliation Bill—reveals a government strategy deeply influenced by internal party politics and the interests of the English electorate, often at the expense of Northern Ireland's peace and prosperity. The re-election of key political figures, despite their contentious handling of Northern Ireland affairs, underscores a tacit endorsement of these policies by the British public, indicating a troubling normalisation of failing Northern Ireland without repercussions for electoral success.
Put simply, many voters seem to share, albeit tacitly, the sentiment expressed by Stanley and Boris Johnson— that the concerns of the Celtic nations should not overshadow the wishes of the English majority. Consequently, the British government has not learned any lessons from its handling of Northern Ireland during the Brexit period. This is highlighted by the numerous Tory politicians advocating for departure from the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) despite the fact that the ECHR underpins the Good Friday Agreement.
The Brexit period serves as a stark illustration of the challenges facing Northern Ireland, caught in the crosshairs of Brexit, where political ambition, factional advantage, and a lack of informed leadership have jeopardised international relations and decades of peace-building efforts.
Conclusion
Many members of the English chattering classes remain blissfully unaware of the extent of alienation from the Union outside of their social circles. They are conditioned by their social environment to believe that the preciousness of the Union is largely unquestioned and to overestimate of the homogeneity of the peoples of the UK.
The startling data from the The Ambivalent Union report and the preceding journey through the competing narratives of British History expose a glaring dissonance. The celebrated political and media narrative of a harmonious, shared Britishness and its esteemed “precious union” not only veer away from historical and contemporary realities but also mask the divisions, conflicting identities, and the unresolved struggles for recognition and autonomy among the UK’s constituent nations.
This situation can only lead to the kind of poor policy-making we reviewed when examining the treatment of Northern Ireland during the Brexit period. This problem may be most pronounced in the case of Northern Ireland, but it is not unique to it. Indifference to, and ignorance of other home nations, combine to result in poor governance, low trust and a sense of alienation from the Union.
England's demographic, cultural, and economic dominance within the UK often shields its politicians from the usual checks of electoral backlash or media critique, especially regarding policies affecting Scotland, Wales, and particularly Northern Ireland. This dominance can lead to perverse outcomes, where misgovernance of the Celtic nations may actually bolster a politician's standing among English voters and media, further entrenching disparities in representation and policy impact across the United Kingdom's constituent countries.
Brexit was not just a referendum on EU membership; it was a manifestation of the longstanding fractures within the UK. These fractures, while sometimes manifesting in policy disagreements, are more deeply rooted in the unresolved tensions between the glossed narrative of a unified Britishness and the harsh realities of distinct, often conflicting needs, sympathies and aspirations. In reality, every proclamation of the union’s preciousness, every heralding of shared Britishness, is met with scepticism, a reminder of the suppressed narratives, and the unheeded voices that tell a story far removed from the glorified portrayals of unity.
The UK’s survival and prosperity hinge on an uncomfortable yet necessary confrontation with this dissonance. Policies rooted in false narratives of unity are not just insufficient and inaccurate; they are destabilising. Each ignored grievance, each overlooked aspiration, and each suppressed identity adds another crack to the “precious union”. A true union, precious and enduring, cannot be proclaimed; it must be built. It demands the courage to venture beyond the comfortable yet hollow proclamations of unity, to embrace the uncomfortable yet rich tapestry of diverse identities, histories, and aspirations that is the real United Kingdom
For democrats, the persistence of the UK can only be morally justified if it maintains support within its constituent nations. A continued failure to address grievances and embrace the complex reality of the UK will only ensure that any sense of democratic legitimacy is entirely lost.