Written on: 20. 6. 2021 in the category: Uncategorized

Welcome to Sfira’s Paradise, SERVILIA

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It’s hard to know which is more worrying; the unanimous decision by Cork City Councillors to denounce Eoghan Harris, or the equally unanimous indecision of Irish journalists in reply. Welcome to Servilia, the state whose citizens abjectly comply with the consensus emanating from our new cultural rulers, Sinn Fein-IRA, Sfira.

To be sure, Eoghan Harris was – as charged  –  critical of John Hume’s role in the so-called peace process: but no more critical than I was or Seamus Mallon, who saw his party being sacrificed to the twin projects of Hume’s ego and Sfira’s great political project. Mallon, a true hero who denounced the IRA as Nazis even as he lived in their very midst, duly died in relative obscurity, while Hume, the architect of Sfira’s rescue from military defeat, was given a funeral nearly to match Prince Philip’s.

Ireland is now a lethal place for dissenters. Cork, the city that gave Queen Elizabeth a legendarily warm welcome in 2011, a decade on has now apparently reverted to a sinisterly grim and tribal mood. How the Sfira army council must have smirked in silent disbelief as Shane O’ Callaghan, a Fine Gael councillor, and (apparently) a barrister, last week set about the ad hominem task of personally destroying Harris. Even by the generous latitude for vituperation allowed in Servilia, O’Callaghan’s remarks were so incendiary that he was warned by the mayor that he did not have parliamentary privilege; but what had this plucky creature to fear from the most sued and most persecuted journalist of our times?

Thus the project to silence all journalists critical of republican mythology is almost complete. Eoghan was of course already gone, publicly sacked and humiliated, just as I was four years ago. But in his case, this delayed final coup de grace from his home base was a warning to all young journalists: this is what awaits you if you depart from the consensus in Servilia.

And all this heaped upon a man in his late seventies who has cancer that will accompany him to his grave. By God, one day they’ll be writing ballads about the reckless courage of his many persecutors in taking on such an isolated and defenceless target.

I no longer consume the news as I once did, so possibly I’ve missed an item or ten: but did one single columnist anywhere defend Eoghan’s right to free speech, anonymous or not, which included the right to be wrong, which is the basis upon which all our intellectual liberties rest? What we got from the whited sepulchre O’Toole was the assertion that anonymity is the mark of the coward, and that no great writers wrote anonymously.

Firstly, Harris has more courage in his earlobe than O’Toole has in the length of that gelatinous contiguity, his spine.

Secondly, O’Toole, once again, is simply wrong. He has no way of knowing whether Coleridge or Wordsworth in their revolutionary days wrote pro-Jacobin pamphlets anonymously; but since both disavowed their earlier beliefs, they were hardly likely to own up later. Anonymous usually means anonymous. Dickens secretly wrote under the pen-name “Boz” for several years. Newspaper columns have used false names since they were invented – Atticus, Peter Simple, Pro-Quidnunc, William Hickey – and the execrable Phoenix magazine administers all its colonic outpouring anonymously, but of course unrebuked by the sanctimonious O’Toole.

Eoghan and I differ on many issues, but we have been consistent critics of the Peace Process and we both warned of the dangers of the Decade of Centenaries, not least because the quasi-historian Diarmuid Ferreter was its helmsman-in-chief. However, that the twin planets of abasement and of remembrance would manage to pull Fine Gael out of its historic orbit and turn it into a satellite of Sinn Fein was certainly a gravitational depravity quite beyond my predictive powers.

Indeed, Varadkar and Coveney, the custodians of the Fine Gael heritage, that which had made the state and had then defended it with fire and sword, now permanently speak in the mean and bitter language of Brexit Anglophobia. Varadkar’s recent boastful declaration about achieving a united Ireland within his lifetime, even as unionism was fragmenting before our eyes, thus liberating its wild men from the counsel of its wise men, was an act of irresponsible lunacy that confirmed that his party is now a slave of the Sinn Fein agenda.

Meanwhile, the credentials of the post-Adams Sfira were being carefully burnished with a set of bogus social democratic credentials. Houses for all; jobs for all; cheap transport for all; universal child and healthcare and university education, free of charge. With these South Sea Bubble promises, the IRA army council is on the brink of capturing the institutions of the Irish state through its Sinn Fein proxies.

And of course, Sfira’s tame scribes and propagandists are writing on a blank sheet of paper; for almost no one under the age of forty has any sense of history or the importance of chronology, and the South Sea Bubble metaphor is probably beyond their understanding. Adolescent simplicities in the Dail are the daily staple of Irish politics: Mary Lou McDonald’s allegation that our housing market had been rigged in the interests of international capital was met with gibbering acclaim from those useful idiots of the Kingstown Infant Left and their rather more knowing comrades of the Sfira alliance.

We are thus poised on the brink of catastrophe – though you would never know it from reading our newspaper or listening to the brainless wittering on radio discussions. So, the Government must take steps to forestall Sinn Fein’s acquisition of Army and Garda intelligence files if – though more probably ‘when’ – Sfira comes to power. The entire security-apparatus of the state will then be open to seizure by the IRA army council. The name of every counter-terrorist Army and Garda officer who fought the good fight against the murderers of the IRA will be revealed. So too will many of the identities of informers within the IRA ranks.

These must be recorded – on microfiche, say – and sent to a secure location perhaps in government archives in Canada, Australia or New Zealand, where they might enjoy protection from disclosure by legal writ, as happened in Boston College. The original files will have to be destroyed. This cannot happen after an election, because Sinn Fein’s legal wizards will have already prepared court injunctions to prevent such actions.

We should remember that the origins of Sfira lie in the insurrectionary traditions of mainland Europe, not in the parliamentary traditions of England: murder is in their bloodstream. After the Bolsheviks came to power, their secret police, the Cheka in a single year killed more people than the all the Czars in history. That doesn’t mean that a Sfira government will necessarily imprison or kill their opponents: but it does mean that they see law not as an inhibition on their ambitions or their deeds but solely as an instrument in their service.

That is why and how the Free State could operate so completely outside the law during the Civil War years, as did Eamon de Valera during the Second World War. For the veterans of 1916, the law was largely a useful tool, not a brake. Once in government, Sinn Fein will probably appear to be lawful in its deeds, if only to keep Brussels happy, while being covertly criminal, rather like Haughey, only more so: Grotesque, Unbelievable  But Anticipated: GUBA.

That change in the acronym says it all. The only action that the present Government can usefully do now is to anticipate the rule of lawlessness by a future Sinn Fein government. The Taoiseach must immediately seek the opinions of the Garda Commissioner, the head of Special Branch, the Chief of Staff of the Defence Forces and the Director of Army Intelligence on how best to protect the security of the state and the safety of the individuals who risked all in its service.

Ireland looks as if it is going to be the first EU country to be electorally captured by an unrepentant terrorist organisation, with poverty to follow as multinationals flee in panic and inward investment halts. This is where the abject capitulations of the peace process and the malignant Decade of Centenaries have taken us, to a ruthless land called Servilia. Calamity now awaits this island, just as both Eoghan and I warned over a decade ago.

And just look where the two of us are today….

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