Welcome to ‘Paddystine’
The other day, during a discussion with a colleague about the wave of pro-Hamas, antisemitic hysteria sweeping the Republic of Ireland, I unthinkingly quipped that the people of Eire should rename themselves “Paddystinians.”
Ben Cohen
I immediately regretted doing so because the term “Paddy” is an aging pejorative, conjuring up images of Irish drunkenness, the supposed Irish proclivity for casual brawling, and ingrained Irish idiocy—stereotypes any decent person should reject.
As it turns out, I needn’t have worried.
A couple of days after that exchange, I discovered that the hashtag “#Paddystinian” was being eagerly adopted on social media by Irish supporters of Hamas. The accompanying posts were variously obnoxious or downright stupid, with many of those mocking the assertion that their country is antisemitic seemingly unaware of the immortal line spoken by a character in James Joyce’s Ulysses that Ireland “has the honor of being the only country which never persecuted the jews (sic)” because “she never let them in.” (There has, in fact, been a minuscule Jewish presence in Ireland for centuries, numbering the current president of Israel among its offspring, and there have been several episodes of antisemitism during that time, including the present. Sill, but Ireland is more or less an instance of the “antisemitism without Jews” phenomenon.)
One might say that Ireland is little different from the rest of Europe when it comes to the volume and the venom of its antisemitism: France, Germany and the United Kingdom, among others, are current examples of a similar trend. But Ireland stands out because of the role of its government in stoking these poisonous sentiments, as well as the fact that antisemitic depictions of Israel sit comfortably in its major political parties across the spectrum. That perhaps explains why Israel has closed its embassy in Dublin.
To my mind, the most grotesque offender in this regard is the Irish president, Michael Higgins. An 83-year-old poet who has carefully cultivated an avuncular image with his three-piece tweed suits and swept back, thinning white hair, Higgins’ high-handed manner is at its most infuriating when he articulates—as he has done on a few occasions since the Hamas atrocities in Israel on Oct. 7, 2023—conspiracy theories about Israel that lean heavily on the theme of shadowy, unaccountable Jewish power. Earlier this year, for example, he blamed a covert Israeli intelligence operation for leaking his fawning letter of congratulations to the Iranian regime’s newly installed President Masoud Pezeshkian and was subsequently too pompous to issue an apology when it was pointed out that the Iranians themselves had publicized his message first. Then, last week, as he accepted the credentials of the new Palestinian ambassador in Dublin, he waxed lyrically about Israeli assaults on the sovereignty of three of its neighbors: Lebanon, Syria and Egypt, where the Israelis apparently “would like, in fact, actually to have a settlement.”
In Egypt? Given that Israel withdrew from the Sinai Peninsula in 1982, not even the most seasoned supporter of Hamas could find actual material evidence that this is Israel’s intention. Higgins had met with his Egyptian counterpart, President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, earlier that week, and it’s quite possible that el-Sisi told him something along these lines or had referred to the dispute between Jerusalem and Cairo over the Philadelphi Corridor that runs along the border between Egypt and Gaza. Whatever the content of their conversation, what is absolutely clear is that Higgins has a disposition to believe the most outlandish lies about Israel and that he will respond to any criticism by saying that opposition to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s policies is not the same as antisemitism—encouraging his audience to think that his beef is with Israel’s leadership and not the Jewish state itself.
But as Dana Erlich, Israel’s ambassador to Ireland, pointed out in a recent interview with an Irish broadcaster, Dublin’s goal has been to undermine Israel’s ability to defend itself by launching lawfare against the Jewish state to chip steadily away at its sovereign rights. Ireland is supporting South Africa’s false claim of Israeli genocide of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague to the point of seeking a redefinition of the term “genocide” in which to shoehorn Israel’s actions against the terrorists of Hamas and Hezbollah, and their Iranian backers. It has promoted anti-Israel measures both domestically and within the European Union. And it has either ignored or mocked the concern that its actions are encouraging the spread of antisemitism in Ireland, including the revival of racial tropes reminiscent of the Nazis.
Two fundamental questions remain. Firstly, why has Ireland adopted this stance? In part, as the Irish commentator John McGuirk recently pointed out, because Ireland is essentially peripheral in the calculations of geopolitics. “We have, for most of our existence, pretended that we can say or do what we like on the international stage because everybody loves us,” he wrote. “The truth is that we’ve been able to be liked because we are irrelevant. Nobody has ever had to choose between Ireland and a powerful ally.”
Even then, as McGuirk argued, this moral grandstanding against Israel has its limits. It was Israel that closed its embassy and not the other way around “because the Irish government knew full well that a formal break in diplomatic relations with Israel would send a signal to the U.S. and the E.U., and Israel’s other powerful allies around the world, that Ireland is a fundamentally unreasonable place that cannot be trusted to be an honest broker when it comes to the world’s only Jewish state.”
Secondly, why the obsession with Israel alone? Not a peep has been heard from the Irish about the revelations coming out of Syria regarding former dictator Bashar Assad’s machinery of murder—something unseen, according to Stephen Rapp, the former U.S. envoy for war crimes—“since the Nazis.” According to my old friend, the Irish writer Eamann Mac Donnchada, both “narcissism,” emanating from Ireland’s belief that the Palestinian war against Israel is a mirror of Ireland’s own struggle against the British, and “ennui,” the lack of purpose that has accompanied Ireland’s growing economic prosperity in recent decades, are key factors here. “Adhesion to [the Palestinian] cause makes many Irish people feel great about themselves while running no physical or economic risks, and that’s what it’s really about,” he wrote.
How should the rest of the world respond, given that, to cite McGuirk again, “not one single thing that the Irish Government has done since Oct. 7, 2023 has impacted Israeli policy one way or another.” Israel, as the offended party, has done what it needs to do. Many Jews have reacted with disgust, but that probably won’t extend to anything more than the odd prohibition on Jameson’s whiskey being served at a synagogue kiddush or bar mitzvah.
As for the United States, traditionally a great friend of Ireland, relations will likely worsen under Donald Trump’s incoming administration because Trump and his team are convinced that Ireland—in the words of future Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick—“runs a trade surplus at our expense.” Israel has nothing to do with that battle. But because Lutnick is a Jew and a noted supporter of Israel, you can rest assured that voices inside and outside the Irish government will eventually draw a connection where none exists. That it’s all so predictable is probably the grimmest joke of all.
