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Selective Outrage – Why Sinn Féin Consistently Struggles To Condemn Terrorism.

Sinn Féin is very quick to accuse Israel of “genocide”, but far less willing to honestly talk about Hamas using civilians, including women and children, as human shields or operating from underground tunnels in densely populated civilian areas. Even international bodies and Western governments have criticised Hamas for storing weapons near schools and hospitals or firing rockets from civilian locations.
At the same time, human rights organisations have also argued that Israel still has legal obligations to protect civilians regardless of Hamas’s actions, which to be fair has been extremly targeted to limit civilian deaths.

Both things can be true at once: Hamas can be guilty of terrorist tactics, and innocent Palestinians can still suffer terribly because of Israel’s military response.

The problem is that Sinn Féin often speaks about this conflict in a completely one-sided way. They condemn Israel loudly and constantly, but rarely apply the same moral standards to Hamas.

That raises an obvious question: Why?

The answer may lie closer to home. Sinn Féin has spent decades defending or justifying the IRA campaign by calling it “war” or “armed struggle” instead of “terrorism“. The party still struggles to give a clear moral condemnation of IRA violence, because doing so would undermine a central part of its political identity. Even today, senior republican figures continue to argue there was “no alternative” to the IRA campaign.

That creates a serious credibility problem. A movement that spent years defending bombings, shootings and civilian deaths as part of a “legitimate struggle” naturally finds it difficult to speak honestly about terrorist methods used by groups abroad. There is an obvious emotional and political overlap between the language used to defend the IRA in the past and the language now used to excuse or downplay Hamas.
For many republicans, admitting that the IRA committed terrorism would come with a huge psychological cost. It would mean accepting that innocent people were murdered in the name of politics and that many supporters defended or excused those actions at the time.
That is uncomfortable. So instead, a narrative is maintained, where the IRA were simply freedom fighters reacting to oppression and where the moral responsibility always lies elsewhere.

You can see echoes of that same thinking in discussions about Hamas. Violence against civilians becomes “resistance”. Terrorism becomes “armed struggle”. Murder becomes “context”.

None of this means every Sinn Féin voter supports Hamas or supported every IRA action. Many ordinary voters support Sinn Féin today because of housing, healthcare, inequality or support for Irish unity by peaceful means. But the party leadership under Mary Lou McDonald still depends heavily on a historical narrative that avoids a full moral reckoning with the IRA campaign.
That is why Sinn Féin can speak endlessly about Israeli wrongdoing, while appearing deeply uncomfortable discussing Hamas atrocities in equally direct language.

A serious and balanced position would recognise all innocent victims equally. It should be possible to say:
Israeli civilians murdered by Hamas matter.
Palestinian civilians killed in Gaza matter.
Hamas using civilian areas for military purposes is wrong.
Collective punishment and indiscriminate killing are wrong.
Terrorism is wrong, whether it happens in Belfast, London, Tel Aviv or Gaza.

But Sinn Féin often appears selective in its outrage. And many people notice that the party’s attitude to groups like Hamas, mirrors the same moral ambiguity it still shows towards the IRA.
That is why critics believe Sinn Féin’s position is not really based on universal human rights principles, but on an old political worldview, where violence carried out by movements seen as “anti-colonial”, is treated more sympathetically than violence carried out by others.

Áras an Uachtaráin, Credentials, Conscience And The Cost Of Silence.

There are moments in public life when ceremony becomes more than ceremony. There are moments when the formalities of State, handshakes, photographs, motorcade escorts, polished floors and diplomatic language carry a moral weight far beyond protocol.

The decision to receive and photograph Iran’s ambassador at Áras an Uachtaráin, with the agreement of the Irish Government, was one such moment.

Pres. Catherine Connolly & Iran Ambassador Eshagh Alhabib.

Of course, it will be said that this was merely a credentials ceremony. It will be said that diplomatic relations must continue, that ambassadors represent states whether we approve of those states or not, and that Ireland must keep channels of communication open. There is truth in that. Diplomacy is not friendship, and accreditation is not endorsement.

But symbols matter. They matter especially when they involve regimes that are still executing, imprisoning and torturing their own people.

Iran is not simply another difficult state with whom Ireland has disagreements. It is a regime whose record on executions is among the worst in the world. Human rights organisations have documented shocking numbers of executions, including executions following unfair trials, executions for political or security-related accusations, and executions connected to wider efforts to crush dissent. Reports of torture, forced confessions, arbitrary detention and brutal repression are not historical footnotes. They are part of the present reality faced by Iranians who dare to protest, speak, organise or simply refuse to submit.

That is why the image of Iran’s ambassador being formally welcomed and photographed with the President of Ireland (See above left), jars so deeply.

President Connolly now occupies an office that is, by design, above ordinary party politics. The President does not make foreign policy in the same way a government minister does. But the President does embody the State. The President’s actions, appearances and words carry ethical significance. When the President receives an ambassador from a regime carrying out executions and torture, the question is not whether the constitutional paperwork was correct. The question is whether the moral message was adequate.

Was there any public word for the prisoners awaiting execution?
Was there any public acknowledgement of torture?
Was there any mention of women, students, dissidents, trade unionists, journalists and minorities who have faced repression?
Was there any reference to the many thousands alleged to have been killed in past massacres and crackdowns, or to the victims of the present wave of executions?
If the above concerns were raised privately, the Irish public has not been clearly informed. If they were not raised at all, that is worse.

Ireland has often prided itself on speaking for human rights, international law and the dignity of small nations and oppressed peoples. We invoke that tradition when we speak about Palestine. We invoke it when we speak about Ukraine. We invoke it when we condemn apartheid, colonialism, war crimes and political imprisonment elsewhere. But a human-rights policy cannot be selective. It cannot be passionate in one case and ceremonially silent in another.

This is not an argument for cutting off all diplomatic contact with Iran. There may be Irish citizens, dual nationals, prisoners, humanitarian issues and international concerns that require a diplomatic channel. But maintaining a channel is not the same as offering the optics of normality.

Ireland could have handled this differently. The ceremony could have been accompanied by a strong public statement. The Government could have made clear that accreditation did not soften Ireland’s condemnation of executions, torture and repression. The President could have used the occasion, even in restrained constitutional language, to reaffirm Ireland’s concern for human dignity and human rights. There could have been a visible refusal to allow diplomatic protocol to become moral camouflage.

Instead, what the public saw was the familiar theatre of State recognition. That is the problem.
Because for the families of those executed, for prisoners under sentence of death, for women beaten for defying compulsory controls, for protesters tortured into silence, and for exiles watching from Ireland, these images do not look neutral. They look like respectability being extended to the representative of a regime that has not earned it.

The office of President is not powerless. Its power lies in moral authority, in language, in symbolism, in the ability to remind the State of its values when convenience and protocol threaten to dull them. At a minimum, that moral authority should not be seen to soften the image of a regime still carrying out executions and torture.

Ireland must engage with the world as it is. But it must not forget what it claims to stand for. Diplomacy may require doors to remain open. Conscience requires that, when those doors open, the truth walks in as well.

International Law Is More Complex Than Irish Politicians Currently Admit.

There is a growing tendency among our Irish politicians and officials to speak about international law on Gaza as though the legal position is completely settled and universally agreed.
It is not.

Whether people support or oppose Israel’s actions, it is important to state the law accurately rather than selectively.

Israel imposed a naval blockade on Gaza during an ongoing armed conflict with Hamas, which has controlled the territory since Hamas violently seized power in 2007. The blockade was formally declared in 2009 and was justified by Israel as a security measure aimed at preventing weapons smuggling by sea.

Under international law, naval blockades are not automatically illegal as our heads of government publically declare. In fact, the law of armed conflict at sea explicitly recognises them under certain conditions.

The most widely cited framework on this issue is the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea, found HERE. While it is not itself a treaty, it is widely regarded as an authoritative restatement of customary international law by legal and naval experts.

The San Remo Manual states that vessels attempting to breach a lawful naval blockade may be intercepted, including in international waters under certain circumstances.

This is not merely an Israeli interpretation. The 2011 UN Palmer Report concluded that Israel’s naval blockade was a legitimate security measure and that its enforcement had a legal basis under international law.

That does not mean every Israeli action is automatically lawful, nor does it mean there are no legitimate humanitarian concerns. Serious legal arguments have also been made that the blockade has become disproportionate or amounts to collective punishment due to the humanitarian consequences for civilians in Gaza.

But that is precisely the point: this is a disputed and highly contested area of international law. It is therefore misleading for Irish Government representatives to present the matter as though international law clearly and unanimously declares every interception at sea to be illegal. Many respected international lawyers, naval law experts, and even UN-linked inquiries have reached more nuanced conclusions.

People can oppose Israel politically or morally if they wish. But legal arguments should be based on the actual complexities of international law, not slogans or selective interpretations.

Ireland, Israel, RTE & The Politics Of Constant Outrage.

Ireland’s political and media class increasingly seems trapped in a cycle of outrage, where emotion appear to matters more than realism.

The recent arrest of Dr. Margaret Connolly; sister of Irish President Mrs Catherine Connolly; on board a Ga, so called aid flotilla immediately caused uproar in Irish political and media circles. Government figures condemned Israel, activists treated the incident as a major international drama, and RTÉ coverage became highly emotional.

At the same time, Eurovision exposed another reality that many activists do not want to face. Despite loud campaigns demanding Israel be excluded, Israel still took part in Eurovision and finished in second place. RTÉ and several other broadcasters boycotted the contest over Israel’s participation, but Eurovision went ahead anyway without their participation.
So will RTE, who this year ignored licence fee payers, decide to repeat this boycotting scenario again next year?

That raises a very simple question; what exactly is the long-term plan?
If the goal is somehow to make Israel disappear, that is not serious politics. Israel is not going anywhere. It is a strong country with major international alliances, a powerful economy, and the world’s largest Jewish population.

If the goal is to isolate Israelis from international events, that also appears to be failing. Eurovision continued. International organisations continue working with Israel. Trade continues. Sporting and cultural events continue. And if Israel competes again next year in Sofia, Bulgaria, the wider world will largely move on, regardless of any Irish outrage.

This is where many ordinary people are beginning to lose patience with what critics now call the “Paddystinian” movement.

Many feel the movement has gone far beyond criticism of Israeli government policy and has become something more obsessive and even hostile. Criticising Israel is perfectly legitimate, just as criticism of any government is legitimate. But when every issue becomes centred around Israel, people naturally begin asking questions.

There is also growing concern about the atmosphere being created for Jewish people living in Ireland. Across Europe, Jewish communities have reported rising hostility and intimidation since the Gaza conflict intensified. Many Irish Jews now feel increasingly uncomfortable speaking openly about their identity or opinions. That should rightly alarm decent people.

A country can support Palestinian civilians without turning hostility toward Israel into a national obsession. It is possible to care about Gaza while also rejecting hatred, intimidation, and political hysteria.

Many people now treat attending such weekend protests in major cities as a kind of social pastime, with large numbers taking part, despite having only a limited understanding of the history or complexities behind the issues involved.

Unfortunately, parts of Irish public debate no longer seem interested in balance or nuance. Too often, disagreement is treated as proof of moral failure. Anyone who questions the dominant activist narrative, risks abuse, smears, or social pressure. That is not healthy democratic debate.

Ireland once had a reputation as a calm, sensible country known for diplomacy and peace-building. Increasingly, however, parts of Irish politics and media appear more interested in performative outrage than practical solutions. Meanwhile, the rest of the world simply keeps moving.

Israel continues trading internationally, participating in global events, building alliances, and developing economically. Eurovision survived the RTE boycott. International audiences still voted for the Israeli entry in huge numbers. That reality may be uncomfortable for activists, but it is reality nonetheless.

Movements built mainly on anger and grievance eventually run into a problem: outrage alone is not a strategy. Shouting louder does not necessarily change minds. In fact, constant moral lecturing often pushes ordinary people away, and that may ultimately be the biggest danger for Ireland itself. Because countries that become consumed by ideological crusades can end up isolating themselves far more than the people they are trying to punish.

In the end, most people simply want balance, common sense, and a bit of perspective, not this endless outrage, division, and political theatre pumped out on news bulletins and via social media.

The Day Tipperary Co. Co. Replaced Speed Signs With “Slow Down, Potholes Ahead”

The whole thing kicked off in the Arch Bar in Thurles, Co. Tipperary last Friday night, when Mikey Ryan burst through the door looking like a man who’d just witnessed either a miracle or a tractor on fire.

“Lads,” he says, gasping for breath, “Tipperary County Council have given up.”
Now that got attention. Even Pat Hayes behind the bar stopped drying glasses.
“What d’ye mean given up?” says Pat.
“Gone altogether,” says Mikey. “No more speed limits.”
The pub fell silent. Jimmy Bourke slowly lowered his pint. “No…” says he in his usual languid manner of speaking turning his single syllables into multiple sounds.
“Oh yes,” says Mikey. “They’re replacing every speed sign in the county with signs saying: ‘SLOW DOWN – POTHOLES AHEAD.”

A woman at the corner table crossed herself.
Pat blinked twice. “Sure isn’t that just every road in Tipperary?”

“EXACTLY,” says Mikey, lowdly slapping the counter so hard that a bowl of peanuts nearly declared independence.

Apparently the Council realised there was no point changing from 80 km/h to 60 km/h when the average human spine couldn’t physically survive 40 km/h anyway.
Mikey claimed he saw three council workers outside Littleton removing a brand-new speed sign only four hours after initially installing it.

“One lad looked exhausted,” says Mikey. “Poor devil, a native of Co. Cork says; ‘What’s the point, bai? The road itself is enforcing the speed limit.”

And according to Mikey, the council has gone fully committed now. Outside Thurles there’s allegedly; a pothole deep enough to baptise a child; another has been classified by NASA as a “seasonal crater,” and one near Templetuohy village that is supposed to have swallowed a Nissan Micra and returned it as a Ford Focus.

“Jaysus,” says Jimmy.
“That’s nothing,” says Mikey. “A fella hit one outside Roscrea last week and it activated his airbags, windscreen wipers and Eircode and all at the same time.”

The Council, according to recent rumour, have now stopped measuring potholes in inches. They’re measuring them in sizes; “small dog,”“washing machine,” and “possible entrance to the underworld.”
Meanwhile crews are driving around replacing all official speed signs. 80 km/h sign?Gone. 60 km/h sign? Gone. Now every road in Tipperary just has giant yellow signs reading: “SLOW DOWN – POTHOLES AHEAD”

Mikey says one poor tourist from Ukraine thought it was the county slogan, while another from Gaza asked if “Potholes Ahead” was a village near Cashel.
But the best story came from near The Ragg. Council workers arrived with cones, flashing lights, diggers, rollers and enough machinery to invade a small European nation.
Locals thought: “Grand. They’re finally fixing the road.” No, they installed six massive warning signs around a pothole before announcing that it was now “part of local Tipperary heritage.”
Another engineer apparently referred to it as, “Traffic calming infrastructure.”

At this point the pub was in ribbons laughing. Even the old lad asleep beside the fire woke up laughing and he hadn’t previously been conscious since the 2022 All-Ireland Final.

Mikey took a deep dramatic gulp of Guinness. “But wait till ye hear the newest plan.”
“Oh sweet suffering Jaysus,” muttered Pat.
“They’re thinking of renaming roads altogether,” announced Mikey
“What?” said Pat.
Yeah. Instead of the N62 or the R498…”; He leaned in over the counter. “…they’ll just call them according to the size of the potholes.” Examples include: ‘The Shaky Mile’; ‘Axlebreaker Avenue’; ‘Suspension Lane’ and one outside Nenagh simply called, ‘Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.”
“And what about the speed vans?” an unknown someone asked.
“Cancelled,” says Mikey.
“Why so?”
“No car in Tipperary can physically reach speeding pace anymore,” said Mikey.

At this stage the entire pub was gone completely feral with laughter. Mikey drained the last of the pint, straightened himself proudly and delivered the final line, like a prophet descending from Slievenamon mountain itself; “Mark my words ladswithin five years every road sign in Tipperary will simply say: ‘Best of Luck.”