Worries over migration feed into broader concerns. The Irish economy is booming, after all, but the recent influx has put immense pressure on housing and other services. That’s clear enough somewhere like Dundrum: those 277 migrants are set to be introduced into a community of just 221. Quite aside from the sense that communities are changing, that’s leading to a chronic shortage of housing, with Ireland having the worst record in the EU for accommodation for young people. Dovetailed with shuttered village pubs and community and anger against the political class is tangible.
It’s clear, then, that all the ingredients for Irish populism are there and ready to brew. Yet as the polls so vividly suggest, a shock result remains unlikely: something that’s basically down to the unwillingness of mainstream politicians to move with the voters. For their part, Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil have generally been reluctant to accept the need for lower numbers. As recently as last December a government minister accused politicians of cloaking themselves in “victimhood” when they claimed that public debate around immigration was being suppressed.
“All the ingredients for Irish populism are there and ready to brew.”
Until recently, anyone looking to give the establishment a bloody nose might have looked to Sinn Féin, what with its heady mix of Irish nationalism and socialist economics. Yet while the party polled as high as 36% two years ago, it’s since fallen away dramatically. Immigration is once again the culprit here, with Sinn Féin’s progressive leaders increasingly out of step with the electorate. According to one poll from May, 63% of all Irish voters wanted a more restrictive immigration policy, a figure that rose to 70% among Sinn Féin supporters. The same poll found that younger, poorer and more urban voters were most worried about Irish migration levels. That’s exactly the demographics Sinn Féin most relies on — even as Sinn Féin leaders like Mary Lou McDonald have, until recently, been extremely reluctant to comment on immigration directly.
Discontent does have some outlets. With the big three parties unwilling to drastically change tack on immigration, some have turned to Aontú, which blends nationalism and conservatism in ways Sinn Féin can’t. Yet with Aontú polling at just 4%, it seems clear that resentful Irish voters are instead putting their hope in independents. Often disaffected members of the mainstream parties — like Mattie McGrath and Malachy Steenson — they’re altogether expected to scoop up some 20% of the vote: roughly the same as each of the three main parties. Included in this grouping is the so-called Independent Party. Like Aontú, it blends republican zeal with immigration scepticism, though has bent to Irish conditions by accepting EU membership.
If, moreover, they’re unlikely to make a breakthrough this time round, the independents do have the electoral system on their side. Because of its proportional nature, the Single Transferable Vote (STV) system used in Dáil elections makes it easier for non-affiliated candidates to cause an upset. There are signs, moreover, that sticking it to the mainstream can bear fruit: though it was founded just last year, by a pair of former parliamentarians, the Independent Party already has 24 councillors and a single MEP.
Beyond the electoral calculations, though, the easiest way to measure the potency of Irish populism is through places like Dundrum. What’s happening in County Tipperary, after all, is being shadowed right across the country, with men and women taking the initiative themselves. That’s clearly enough in places like the Finglas area of Dublin, or else Cootehill in County Cavan, both sites of anti-migration protests.