LAST WORD
NAVTEJ SARNA74 THE WEEK • JULY 14, 2019
The writer is a former high commissioner of India to the UK and ambassador to the US“And whatever you say, say nothing.”
Brexit hangs like a large question mark over this
fractured space. Fifty six per cent of Northern Ire-
land voted ‘Remain’ in 2016, and thus feel ignored.
But the dominant Democratic Unionist Party
strongly favours ‘Leave’ and holds leverage in the
crucial support it provides to the Tories in Westmin-
ster. Brexit could easily make Northern Ireland the
frontline, because that is where the United King-
dom physically meets the European Union—at the
border between Northern Ireland and the Republic
of Ireland.
Thanks to the 1998 agreement, this border, bi-
sected by about 300 roads, is virtually non-existent
today. Only a change in your cellphone provider
or road signs in Gaelic, in
addition to English, will
indicate that you have crossed
the line. Dairy products and
cattle criss-cross between
north and south freely; trade,
tourism and employment are
integrated.
A Brexit that converts this
back into a hard border—as
a no-deal Brexit well might—
with customs checkpoints
and watch towers manned
by British soldiers would be considered a betrayal
of the Good Friday Agreement. It could bring back
the worst memories and invite a return to violence.
Neither the alternative of a technology-controlled
soft border nor the divisive ‘backstop’ arrangement
(avoiding a hard border even if it means keeping the
entire UK in a customs union with the EU for the
present) have gathered much clarity or support. In
fact, hardcore Brexiteers see the backstop as a trap
to keep the UK linked to the EU.
Meanwhile, in Belfast, wishful thinkers wait for a
second referendum that could reverse Brexit. The
hard Republicans hope that these complications
will hasten the reunification of Ireland and the
majority simply pray for the continuation of the cold
peace. And hope someone in London is listening.Belfast, Brexit and the border
B
elfast, the gritty capital of Northern Ireland
where I found myself last week, is watching
the prime ministerial race in London with
an understandable mix of resignation and concern.
The reason is clear: As during the 2016 run-up to the
referendum, there appears to be limited bandwidth
or empathy in London for how Brexit could nega-
tively impact the deeply conflicted politics, as well
as the economy, of Northern Ireland.
An uneasy peace has prevailed in Northern Ire-
land since the 1998 Good Friday Agreement which
ended ‘The Troubles’—three decades of riots, kill-
ings and counter-killings, bombings and murders—
between Unionists and Republicans, Protestants
and Catholics. Those who recall those volatile years
regard this agreement as a
major achievement, even
though the packaging away
of the troubles has been im-
precise and imperfect. Sev-
eral leftover issues simmer
under the surface, as evident
in the current political freeze
between the Democratic
Unionists and the Sinn Fein,
which has left the country
without an executive govern-
ment for the last two years.
Conflict lives on in the muscle memory of this
edgy city. The calmness evoked by the languid
Farset river flowing through pastoral green ap-
pears fragile; one gets the feeling that anything can
happen anytime. Every family has a story of loss.
Schools are still largely segregated and sectarian.
Walls eloquent with political murals still snake
through the city separating Catholic and Protestant
working class neighbourhoods, and gates between
them shut every evening. A Catholic walking into
the Protestant area takes care to tuck away his me-
dallion of Mother Mary. Names typical of sectarian
identity are disguised in the wrong company. The
way you pronounce a particular consonant could
still make you lose a job; a British accent is a clear
disadvantage. Poet Seamus Haney’s words resonate:
ILLUSTRATION BHASKARAN