Ireland's Undeclared Autocoup

‘Autogolpe’(Spanish): 'A self-coup, also called autocoup, a form of coup d'état in which a nation's leadership, having come to power legitimately, tries to stay in power through illegal means.'

Something odd has been happening in Ireland in the past week or so. This in itself is not unusual: Very strange things have been happening in Ireland for many years, and markedly for the past dozen. For a complex set of reasons, these events — relating to the sovereignty and freedom of the Irish people, or, more precisely, the decremental erosion of such — arouse little accurately focused comment in Ireland itself, and none at all in the wider world. But this recent event is of a different order, for it bespeaks a new phase in the power struggle that has been assailing my country, perhaps a sign of panic among those who have been orchestrating or implementing the dismantling of Irish democracy and the obliteration of its individuality and culture for many years, with the final end of eliminating the Irish people themselves.

The event I refer to is the sudden eruption of commentary from leading leftists to the effect that Ireland may be about to undergo a ‘right-wing’ coup. On Friday last, the leader of the extreme leftist party, People Before Profit, Richard Boyd Barrett, made a strange public intervention when he claimed that the imminent prospect of a left-wing government — a figment of his party’s fevered dreams — would be stymied by ‘the rich’. In a party document publicised in a media which is itself relentlessly left-wing, PBP claimed that Ireland’s wealthiest people would ‘use their control over the media to turn the population against a left government’, by which he appeared mainly to have in mind the prospect of a government after the next election (probably mid-2024) led by Sinn Féin, the former political wing of the Irish Republican Army, which finally laid down its guns in 1998, after the Good Friday Agreement, the only leftist party with even a snowball’s chance in a sauna of achieving power. Even more oddly, PBP also says it is ‘openly arguing that Sinn Féin cannot be trusted to carry through a consistent left programme.’

But even this prospect (of a Sinn Féin-led government) has, the party claims, ‘led to a barrage of propaganda from the Irish Independent, the Irish Times and RTÉ against the party.’ Even more bizarrely, the example provided is the US-inspired Chilean coup of 1973, which resulted in the assassination of the socialist president, Salvador Allende, and the installation of the crypto-fascist government of General Augusto Pinochet. And it would not stop there, the document continued, for the wealthy would use ‘far-right and fascist gangs who use a spurious radical rhetoric to divert anger on to social scapegoats such as migrants, gay, or trans people’ and would ‘deploy the police and the army to move against elected left-wing governments.’

If the issues confronting Irish democracy were not so serious, this would be comical. For one thing, the Irish media are not controlled by ‘wealthy’ people: they are largely controlled from outside the country by people who are supporters of the globalist cabal — the Combine — with its retail outlet based in Davos, Switzerland, which is currently seeking to subjugate the remaining democracies of the West in a neo-feudal crypto-communist autocracy which the leftist parties of Ireland — with Sinn Féin and People Before Profit to the fore — have been serving in the capacities of, yes, suppliers of fascist gangs, who use radical rhetoric to divert anger on to largely non-existent scapegoats (the ‘far right’ being the prime example, a code term for anyone opposed to the Government) and working hand-in-glove with the police (An Garda Siochána) to ensure that no group that is not approved by the Combine is permitted to hold a public meeting or protest without inviting sustained and often violent attacks led by these leftist parties and their proxies in such as Antifa and BLM.

These claims of an impending coup, which have been supported and repeated by other extreme leftists, bespeak both panic and projection, not only among the leftist allies of Ireland’s most tyrannical government for a century, but also in the governing administration itself, which undoubtedly faces an extreme popular backlash from a public now beginning to awaken from three years in a trance-induced coma. This mad talk of a coup may therefore be occurring in anticipation or fear of an impending uprising of the population against the orchestrators and facilitators of the flood of immigrants ushered in under cover of lockdown in the past few years, and the escalating levels of mortality that are self-evidently the result of the experimental medical treatment forced upon the population from early 2021. 

For the past three years, both Sinn Féin and People Before Profit have been working in tandem with the coalition Government comprising the two traditionally dominant political parties, Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael (for nearly a century at loggerheads despite being virtually indistinguishable mirror images of one another). Notwithstanding this cooperation, shifting to the electoral context, SF and PBP like occasionally to remind the electorate that the governing parties are ‘right-wing’, and are supported by some profoundly anti-freedom syndicate among the domestic rich and powerful. This is largely a smokescreen to conceal the fact that both parties have, for the past three years, been working assiduously in concert with a Government that is clearly intent upon dismantling freedom and democracy in Ireland, having disabled the Irish Constitution in the spring of 2020, imposed the most sustained lockdown in Europe into 2022, introduced and defended a law that, for the first time in a century of independence, imposed an apartheid based on ‘medical’ injections on its own people, and generally went about deleting the hard-won freedoms and independence of the Irish nation and demonising and assailing anyone who sought to defend these.

Now, however, the leftist-backed governmental campaign to flood Ireland with indifferent aliens while its indigenous population was locked down and intimidated into a profound mutism, has begun to manifest a series of rapidly widening cracks. A systematic programme of population supplanting, the most radical since Oliver Cromwell, has been imposed not directly on the wealthy but on working class communities all over Ireland, who have now risen up in refusal, and for their trouble been daubed as racists by such as the leftist nodding donkeys in Sinn Féin and People Before Profit. While the homeless Irish sleep in tents in public parks, untested and unvetted outsiders bereft of identity documents are put up in five-star hotels at the expense of the Irish taxpayer. Meanwhile, mortality rates in Ireland are going through the roof, with many areas where informal surveys are being conducted reporting increases of up to 40 per cent on normative patterns, and a doubling of sudden deaths among young people. Attempts to ventilate these issues have been shouted down by Government spokespersons and their leftist lackeys, who now — belatedly — seek to establish some clear blue water between themselves and this unfolding catastrophe by re-insinuating themselves as the beleaguered voices of the downtrodden and forgotten. Even more bizarre is Boyd Barrett’s suggestion that a coup from the ‘right’ might be driven by members of the police force, An Garda Siochána, which for three years has been enthusiastically assisting the political class in subduing and brutalising the population and forcing it to accept the destruction of its freedoms and way of life. It takes a specially-reinforced brass neck to complain about Garda ‘heavy-handedness’ in policing left-wing demonstrations in the past three years, when every such event — such as BLM-style demonstrations in the Summer of Hate of 2020 — was notable for the palpable absence of adequate policing, or any enforcement of Covid regulations, in sharp contrast to the treatment of anti-lockdown demonstrators. Barrett added that Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael had long had time to ‘deepen their roots’ in the police and the military, and that ‘elements’ within these forces ‘could and would’ be used to prevent the implementation of a radical left agenda. In fact, during that same summer, PBP activists were regularly seen standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Garda heavies in seeking to drive anti-lockdown demonstrators off the streets. Although such operations involving members of political parties and movements — usually sponsored by such as the Open Society Foundation, Atlantic Philanthropies and The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation — have for some time been commonplace in the United States, they were unheard of in Ireland until the gay marriage referendum campaign of 2015. Before that, participants in the political marketplace respected the right of opponents to hold different views, to conduct electoral campaigns and public meetings, and to lead demonstrations against aspects of government policy. This democratic tradition came to an end with the intervention of the externally-financed LGBT goons, and was afterwards taken up as a standard modus operandi by mainstream leftist parties, all of which support the Woke agenda.

Perhaps PBP now perceives that the tyrannical attitudes of coalition politicians to parties or individuals opposing the Government from outside the system could very quickly be adapted to target lesser elements within the system — even leftist ones. His intervention, then, may amount to no minor hypocrisy.  Something far more utilitarian may be at play: his ‘coup’ nonsense is an attempt to avail of the memory-holing of key events of the Covid period — achieved largely through the use of confounding and demoralising propaganda — to pretend that PBP members never joined with State forces to brutalise citizens defending their rights and freedoms. Boyd Barrett’s objective may be to rehabilitate the reputation of his party in the political mainstream — to the limited (thanks to supportive journaliars) extent that it has been damaged — and return himself and his crew of political whores to the ‘populist left’ job-description they evinced prior to 2020.

The ‘coup alert’, then, may be just the first starter-pistol shot of the electoral process, which is scheduled soon to re-establish its ‘traditional’ format after three years of collusion and cooperation between the ‘left’ and the ‘right’ of the Irish political spectrum. The last general election was in February 2020, which means that, barring some kind of ’emergency’ (hah!), the next one must take place no later than February 2025. This means that the parties will require to re-establish the essential ideological boundaries of the political pantomime by, at the latest, mid-2024, with SF and PBP re-defining themselves as ‘left’ and the FF/FG axis as ‘right’. This will take some time and delicacy, not least because, for the past three years, all of these parties have been labelling any extra-parliamentary opposition as ‘far right’, a largely asymptomatic condition denoting anyone who does the job of the parliamentary opposition and media by questioning Covid, climate change or the Government’s sell-out of Ireland’s traditional military neutrality by taking NATO’s side against Russia in the Ukraine-centred conflict. Again, the leftist parties have walked each and every one of these policy planks with what they now, yet again, seek to describe as the ‘right-wing’ parties, seemingly believing that the recent programme of indoctrination and intimidation has wiped out every last vestige of Irish political intelligence. Clearly, too, Boyd Barrett is afraid that his erstwhile chums in the larger parties will pull a double-cross once the election is declared, and is therefore firing this warning shot with a promise to unleash ‘militant people power’ in the event that the Government plays dirty. As if!

Ultimately, though, this talk about a coup may amount also to a kind of confession, very much related to the Covid episode: an attempt by Boyd Barrett to distance himself and his party from their active-duty involvement in the aftermath of what was, without doubt, the culmination of an autogolpe — self coup — conducted by the Irish political establishment, acting in tandem with senior members of the judiciary, and under orders and supervision by external powers, from late 2019. In short, Barrett’s spectral coup has already been effected, and for several years — at least nine — aided and abetted by his party and himself.

‘Autogolpe’ is a Spanish word meaning autocoup or self-coup — a form of coup d'état in which a nation's leadership, having come to power by legitimate means, tries to remain there through illegal means. An autogolpe is not a bloody putsch against an incumbent government, but a seizure of the electoral system and institutional infrastructure of a state, with a view to repelling future opposition by illegitimate means. The leadership, for example, may dissolve or render powerless the national legislature and courts, unlawfully assuming extraordinary powers not permitted under normal circumstances. The instruments of seizing permanent power may include annulling the nation's constitution, nobbling the electoral system to make it harder to access, and implementing repressive measures against the people on some spurious pretext. Clearly, this definition covers the behaviour of many of the governments of former Western democracies during the Covid episode, when fear and menaces were used to subdue entire populations and force them to comply with the most dictatorial powers witnessed in Western nations for many decades or, in some instances, centuries. It is clear now that this orchestration of multiple autogolpes was conducted at the behest of supranational entities and forces, including the World Health Organisation (WHO), the United Nations (UN) and the World Economic Forum (WEF), with even more sinister figures whispering orders from the shadows.

Covid was an economic and military operation, not a health-related one. What the World Bank subsequently called the ‘Covid project’ flowed directly from an all-points bulletin issued by BlackRock, the world’s largest asset-management agency, on August 15th 2019, warning that the world’s economies and currencies were on the brink, and an extreme intervention would be required to deal with the coming downturn by placing the global economy on life-support. This was the whistle-blast that unleashed the ‘pandemic’. The plan that was rolled out had been in place since 2013, when it was enacted in legislation under the Obama administration in the US, essentially couched as a wartime response. The vaccine was treated as a ‘countermeasure’ — i.e. a military response, with all laws concerning vaccination testing suspended. This model was issued by way of diktat to every country in the Western hemisphere. In Ireland, a top-level meeting including politicians, judges and other key members of the Constitutional Government took place in December 2019, at which it was agreed to suspend the Constitution, itself an unlawful action based on no authority whatsoever.

The Irish context was at that point somewhat different to the general Western situation, because a related phenomenon — a more particularised type of coup — had at that time been in train for nearly a decade, since the country’s humiliation at the hands of the ‘Troika’, comprising representatives of the EU Commission, the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, which arrived in Dublin in November 2010, two years after the global banking collapse, to finally take possession of the country’s economic sovereignty. This was to result in the imposition of tens of billions of unwarranted and undeserved debt on the Irish taxpayer and on future generations of Irish people. We now understand that this moment was used by external forces to capture Ireland at that moment of great peril, and deliver it as a key and faithful servant of the agenda we now observe being rolled out across the Western world.

I have previously referred to this period as an 'elongated velvet colour revolution’, originating in early 2011, and continuing right through to 2020, when it merged with the Covid project. To some extent, the term ‘colour revolution’ is imprecise, because the idea of a ‘velvet colour revolution’ — which almost always involves some elements of violence — is something of a contradiction. However, as this revolution was extended over more than a decade, and since episodes of violence became more commonplace along the way, it has a degree of validity, though the entire episode, from 2011 through to 2023 and counting, might also be described as an extended autugolpe. Perhaps, to achieve a full understanding, we might describe it as having elements of both: a spoonful of colour revolution, a pinch of autgolpe, mix well and bring to the boil.

The phrase ‘colour revolution’ originated — interestingly — with the Ukrainian ‘Orange Revolution’ of 2004, the ‘orange’ element deriving from the electoral colour of Viktor Yushchenko, the pro-Western challenger, whose supporters staged a mass protest following his defeat in that year’s election — alleging voter fraud — and succeeded in obtaining a second vote, which ensured Yushchenko’s election as president. Afterwards, many of the revolutions of recent years — including earlier ones, like the ‘Velvet Revolution’ in Czechoslovakia in 1989 — have been loosely and retroactively recast as ‘colour revolutions’.

But gradually the term ‘colour revolution’ has come to mean something more precise: the intervention of Western powers, especially the United States, in the political affairs of other countries — for example the more recent Ukrainian coup of 2014. Generally, these revolutions are seen as having been fomented by the American Deep State as a way of undermining governments perceived as unfriendly, in counties offering strategic or economic advantages to the US government and its allies. Sometimes these — in effect —coup d'états involve elements of military intervention, but usually they take the form of ‘soft’ revolutions in which the political system of a country is, in effect, captured and adapted to the needs of the superior power. Colour revolutions generally have the outward appearance of spontaneous demonstrations, though they are invariably stirred up by NGOs and other agencies and bodies whose function it is to provide back-up to the regime. Something along these lines was initiated in Ireland in 2011, when the country was at its lowest ebb for many decades, following the economic collapse of 2008. In fact, it is only in retrospect that 2011 reveals itself as perhaps the most interesting year in the recent history of Irish political life, a year that began a decade of unprecedented political, cultural and constitutional change for a country that, up to that point, had imagined itself a stable modern democracy, and a conservative one at that.

Ireland’s autogolpe was as soft as a summer breeze, and slow as a safety-obsessed snooker player. The purpose of this ‘unseen revolution’ was to complete the transformation of Ireland into an embryonic communist country. In the wake of the humiliating visit of the Troika, Ireland was ripe for such a takeover, having for years hosted multiple US transnationals, including pharmaceutical companies that had been pumping poison since the 1970s. More recently, Dublin had for tax reasons become the European HQ of most of the American tech companies, including Google, Twitter, Facebook and Apple, which became active conduits for the importation of radical ideologies which, in the normal course, would have had little traction in Ireland as was — in effect turning the corporate sector into an arm of government, and rendering Ireland to corporatocracy, which amounts to a clinical definition of fascism. By 2011, mass migration into Ireland had been in train for a decade and was accelerating steadily beneath the radar of public attention, and used by the mainstream parties to build parallel support bases for themselves in the event that their new-found radical policies (funded by such as Soros and Gates) were not to the liking of the indigenous population.

A colour revolution has five phases. The first is aimed at spreading a mood of crisis — leveraged or contrived — in which a narrative of failure is sown, oppositional voices are attacked and marginalised, and further crises are orchestrated to maintain the pressure. There follows the ‘chaos, confusion and fear’ stage, essentially a sustained information war, involving propaganda, demonisation of past values and alternative voices, the unleashing of fake whistleblowers to undermine potentially unfriendly institutions, and other chaos-making devices. The third phase instills division and polarisation by means of labelling, gaslighting, and partitioning of the community into different imposed mindsets, targeting in particular traditional bonded units, such as community and family. All this is calculated to create a general mood of apathy and disillusionment, a phase in which the population is fatally divided and silenced. Finally comes the ‘crescendo’ stage, where a major crisis is orchestrated and extremists let loose into the public square to accelerate the mayhem. These phases can occur sequentially, piecemeal or together, and it is clear to most sentient Irish people that all of them had been accomplished in Ireland by late 2020, and are now being ramped up across the board to achieve total obliteration of the prior spirit of the Irish nation.

It is possible to track these processes through several significant events of 2011, the year when the then Fine Gael leader, Enda Kenny — probably the thickest politician ever to blemish the Irish scene, but at that point the last man standing — ascended to the office of Taoiseach — head of government. Just before or soon afterwards, there occurred a number of key events that together form a convincing picture of a choreographed management of events to ensure that Ireland would be changed out of all recognition and the Irish people induced into an appropriate mindset to ensure that nothing happened to divert the plan.

A key event at the beginning of that year was the sudden collapse of a  promised new party, Democracy Now, a sort of kneejerk eruption of the economic collapse, which converged around the pronouncements of several high-profile media personalities, including one ‘popular’ economist who had predicted the collapse. The atmosphere in Ireland through 2009 and 2010 had become more and more antagonistic and vengeful towards the political establishment which had bankrupted the country and destroyed the prospects for future generations to continue living and working in their own land. For the first time since the post-independence period, there was a genuine hunger for alternative, even radical, political initiatives, and several of these had begun to rattle sabres during 2010, and increasingly as public clamouring becoming more insistent upon the arrival of the Troika in Dublin in late November. One of the principals of the Democracy Now initiative, Fintan O’Toole (another was the motherWEFfer economist, David McWilliams) wrote openly in his Irish Times column about his intention to build and lead such an alternative, and was highly visible that winter on platforms where these options were being vociferously canvassed. No sooner had the general election been called in January, however, than he wrote an extended je regrette to the effect that the notice was too short to launch an adequate competitor to take on the Big Beasts, and he felt he could do better for the cause of political sanity by continuing to write in the Irish Times. Whether this was genuine or contrived hardly matters: The net effect was to suck the energy from the public appetite for alternatives, wrongfooting those who had thought about launching another movement, but pulled back in the belief that the space was being filled, perhaps not wishing to divide the opposition at that crucial moment. The Democracy Now principals, having led people up the garden path with the promise of a viable ‘non-political’ alternative to the mainstream parties, had accordingly blocked up the hallway of hope right up to the triggering of the election campaign, and then folded their tent and walked away, leaving the field to the usual suspects. Thus, the potential for any lasting impact on the shapes of Irish politics was lost. The status quo — excoriated for years by such as Fintan O’Toole — still reigned.

But the true initiating event of the colour revolution was Enda Kenny’s consequent coming to power — or rather, to office — in February 2011. Kenny was a political figure of 35 years’ familiarity in Irish public life, a dull individual, utterly devoid of philosophy or visible principle, and therefore a perfect figurehead to preside over the final sell-out of Ireland.

A crucial series of events occurred over the six-day period from Tuesday 17th to Sunday 22nd of May, 2011, a working week in which Ireland hosted two state visits, one by the Queen of England, Elizabeth II, the other by US President Obama. Both visits carried profound messages concerning the past and future of Ireland, and together resulted in a sort of ‘mass formation grind’, with the broadcast media parading for the occasion a succession of hectoring, pontificating voices, as though directed at correcting Irish backwardness in preparation for the country’s ‘elevation’ to a new level. 

The implicit theme of Queen Elizabeth’s visit was something like ‘Out with the old/In with the new’. Her speeches seemed tailored to provide a new psychological road map for the Irish population, coming sprinkled with weasel words, evasions, euphemisms and circumlocutions designed to depict the Irish historical experience as some kind of mutual misunderstanding. She spoke about the ‘painful legacy’ allegedly affecting Ireland and Britain, and about ‘the complexity’ and ‘weight’ of ‘our’ history, as though Ireland and Britain were still one country. She spoke, too, about the importance of ‘being able to bow to the past but not being bound by it’.

Most of the commentary was at the level of the purest cringe. ‘She has a great way of making people feel at ease’, someone might say, to which the response would come: ‘Yes, she’s so normal and ordinary!’ Without a flicker of embarrassment, someone would talk about the ‘moments of healing’ or the weight of the hand of history hovering over our collective shoulder. But where I come from, down West, Irish history is not some ‘shared’ experience with England. It is an obscene litany of thievery and abuse, inflicted on my people by outsiders who had no right to be here. It is something dark and terrible, a slow rape conducted with savagery and deliberation for several hundred years. It was definitely not a two-way process of mutual misunderstanding, or some jointly entered-into engagement that went wrong; it was an attempt by one side to plunder everything it could and destroy the remainder, a sustained exercise in interference, theft, racism and ethnic cleansing.

President Obama arrived on Sunday May 23rd, three days after the Queen of England’s departure, making this perhaps the most propaganda-laden week in the whole of Irish history. This was as an Act Two of the drama already set in train, the repudiating-history theme being followed by a shift into an entirely different historical orbit, pointing us forward to a new era of imitation and conformity to external powers.

On becoming US President, Obama had launched an unprecedented attack on the American Constitution, and so was a perfect ally for actors with designs on Bunreacht na hÉireann, the Constitution of Ireland, enacted in 1937 under the leadership of the national Godfather, Eamon de Valera, widely acknowledged (externally) as one of the most emancipatory constitutions in the world.

An odd episode occurred shortly after Obama’s departure, when Enda Kenny was accused of ‘plagiarising’, in his speech of welcome at Dublin’s College Green, the victory address that had been delivered by his guest following his election as US president in 2008. The accusation was objectively ludicrous: Kenny, or rather his speechwriter, was merely openly reprising Obama’s first statement as president-in-waiting, as a nod of homage, a playful pastiche. Actually, had we realised it at the time, he was actually doing something far worse than plagiarism: deferring to Obama as the symbol and leader of something like a millennial utopia of ‘diversity’, to which he was pledging Ireland’s allegiance. ‘If there’s anyone out there’, Kenny said — without referring to the origin of the sentence he was speaking — ‘who still doubts that Ireland is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our ancestors is alive in our time, who still questions our capacity to restore ourselves, to reinvent ourselves and to prosper, well, today is your answer!’

This is a remarkable sentence when considered as referring to Ireland rather than, as in Obama’s speech (with appropriate variations) to the United States of America. The idea that a black American president might represent the answer to the dreams and sacrifices of Ireland’s dead generations seems absurd on its face. But the idea of Ireland requiring to ‘reinvent’ itself in the pursuit of this end is actually sinister. In retrospect, Kenny’s borrowing of Obama’s own words reveals itself as some kind of pointed pledge — not to the people of Ireland or the world in general, but to the visiting US president himself. ‘We are with you’, it seemed to say. ‘We will follow; we will change to meet your demands of us.’ The last four words — ‘today is your answer’ — directed at unspecified doubters, conveys that the ‘reinvention’ would be designed, determined, and conducted not by the lights of the Irish people, still less by the ‘dreams of their ancestors’, but at the direction of the visitor and his fellow-travellers, to whom Kenny was pledging his allegiance. The sentence Kenny ‘plagiarised’ provided a camouflaged encapsulation of the paradoxical statement he was seeking to leave on the public record, and borrowing this construction of Obama’s was the perfect way of carrying it off. Perhaps the belated hoo-ha about the plagiarism accusation betrayed some inchoate understanding of this, and was an attempt to start a discussion on something that had by then gone completely under the radar.

In assessing and weighing the ‘autogolpe’ thesis, it is not incidental to observe that Fine Gael has pretty much dominated all governments of Ireland since 2011, certainly up to the summer of 2020, when it entered a coalition with Fianna Fáil. This began a 30-month period in which the FF/FG coalition government was nominally led by Micheal Martin, the leader of Fianna Fáil, who took the role of Taoiseach for the first half of a ‘rotating’ arrangement with the Fine Gael leader, Leo Varadkar, who for that period served as Tánaiste, or deputy prime minister.  In retrospect, however, it is clear that the entire stretch of the coalition’s run has followed the course set down by Varadkar in the grotesquely-extended four-month interregnum between the February 2020 election and the establishment of the new government in June, 2020. The Covid project, the attendant ‘measures’ and the rollout of the poison jabs were to dominate Martin’s period, and the policies on all these matters had already been set in stone. Prior to 2020, the dominance of Fine Gael had been uninterrupted and unambiguous for nine years, and it was clear that someone, somewhere, was anxious that it continue. In fact, the election of 2020 had been intended to take place that summer — the previous election had been just four years before — but, in mid-January was abruptly announced for February 8th, resulting in one of the shortest election campaigns of Ireland’s history in independence. Now that Varadkar has returned to claim his stint as rotating Taoiseach, he looks set to be there for the next 15 months at least, which would mean he has held the post for close on five years, despite never having achieved an electoral mandate of his own.

In the period of FG dominance between 2011 and 2020, the darker nature of the new dispensation was constantly detectable, with an unmistakable intolerance bedding itself down as the ‘new normal’ of Irish politics — lightly disguised as some kind of ‘progressive’ awakening of the populace, but in reality pursuing the predatory ambitions of outsiders. In the summer of his very first year in office, Kenny made a new mark for himself by appearing to refute his previous image as a conservative Catholic by launching a series of attacks on the Church, including his peremptory closure of the Irish embassy to the Vatican in November 2011.

The following year, 2012, saw the so-called Children Referendum, the first seismic hammer-blow to the Constitution of Ireland in a decade-long onslaught that was to see two further referendums within six years. The cumulative effect was to  decimate the meanings of the Fundamental Rights section of the constitutional text, each ostensible amendment proposal having the collateral effect of disabling or diluting virtually all the rights in the affected article by dint of their contamination with radical new provisions. These assaults were followed by the Covid episode starting in 2020, which more or less finished the job off. None of this arose out of any popular desire to alter the Constitution, but at the prompting of outside interests and the covert activities of agitators now unleashed at Ireland’s throat by the subterranean colour revolution/autogolpe.

The election of Michael D. Higgins as President, in November, 2011, following the defenestration of the leading candidate, Seán Gallagher, by a pincer-movement of RTÉ and Sinn Féin, delivered an able accomplice to Kenny and Fine Gael. For a brief extended moment, it had seemed as if the presidential election of November might deliver something of the alternative statement that had been so mysteriously frustrated the previous February. The establishment, however, had other ideas. In a moment when politics had fallen into previously undreamt-of levels of disrepute, Gallagher, a former TV ‘Dragon’s Den’ star, became the closest viable candidate in the field to a non-politician, and accordingly took the lead from an early stage. Ireland, still mired in crisis, was searching for a father-figure, and Gallagher seemed for a moment to fit the bill. He was as though a blank slate on to which the voters might sketch their visions of the future. But Gallagher was an untested entity and, from the establishment seats, possibly a bit of a loose cannon, whose demeanour was by no means congenial to the status quo. As he coasted miles ahead of the pack with less than a week to go, his chances were scuppered by an ambush on an RTÉ current affairs show involving the host, Pat Kenny and the Sinn Féin candidate, the late Martin McGuinness — giving the lie, incidentally, to Boyd Barrett’s contention that the Irish media is controlled by wealthy right-wingers.

It became clear in retrospect that Gallagher’s assassination was carefully choreographed. Higgins, the tolerable default candidate of the establishment, made up the ground in the final week. The blank slate, on to which the Irish people might have begun to essay an entirely different notion of Ireland from what emerged, fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. Higgins, unable to believe his luck, was no doubt easily persuaded to forget his radical pretensions and fall in with the hidden puppet-masters now running the entire show. An odd mix of Peter Pan and Fidel Castro, Higgins had throughout his career presented himself — like Fintan O’Toole and Richard Boyd Barrett — as a fearless voice of the people, but in reality he proved, in the highest office in the land, to be as much an establishment creature as any of his predecessors, though generally disguising this tendency by oozing incoherent bursts of half-baked philosophy and poetics. 

This short summary of the events of 2011 provides context for pretty much everything that has happened in the public life of Ireland in the past decade or so, all of which might otherwise seem to be mere derangement. No matter what the event or episode, you can place it on the chart. The Pantigate affair, for example, in January 2014, which launched the LGBT assault on marriage, parenthood and family, might be identified as part of the second phase, the beginning of the information war, involving propaganda and the demonisation of alternative voices. The explosion of NGOs that nowadays act informally, by stealth, and at the expense of the Irish taxpayer, to implement and enforce government policy in a manner as to place it beyond challenge by the public, can be traced to the years immediately afterwards. Though ‘NGO’ stands for ‘non-governmental organisation’, this does not prevent the sector being one of the biggest single draws on the public purse: Ireland currently has in excess of 33,000 NGOs — that’s actual organisations not employees! —  at an annual cost in the region of €6 billion, or nearly 8 per cent of the government budget.

This, then, is why its more sentient denizens have the sense that Ireland ‘went crazy’ sometime before about 2012/13, and has remained so for a decade and counting, ultimately challenging Trudeau’s Canada for the position atop the pedestal reserved for the Most Batshit Crazy Country in the World. This is why nothing that has since happened in our public realm makes sense — why everything appears contradictory and tending towards meaninglessness. It places in context the decisive manner in which unprecedentedly tyrannical measures could be introduced in 2020, with nary a murmur of parliamentary or extra-parliamentary opposition — this in a country in which ‘sure, we’re grand!’ might have been deemed the national mantra up to a couple of years before. It explains why politicians these days go completely berserk if there is the slightest questioning of their pushing of paedophilic filth on schoolchildren. It is the context for drag queens being given the run of the country and its institutions, and awarded honorary doctorates by Trinity College Dublin. It also throws a light on the otherwise apparently disproportionate fanaticism of many of the Woke activists we observe, who are nothing like political activists of old, but often utterly demented and out of control. This demeanour is not accidental or spontaneous, but the outworking of an inculcated hatred and cultivated rage, refined by intensive coaching and oiled with taxpayers’ money. The ideological programme behind this  — which largely exists as a contrived agenda to motivate the activist on the ground — has also the potential to blackmail politicians and thus leverage vast amounts of money. ‘Conservative’ politicians are especially susceptible to this, being unable to respond coherently to the spurious allegations of having been involved in the maltreatment of this or that ‘minority’ in the past. All this amounts essentially to a new kind of ‘industry’, providing a raison d’etre and means of self-sustenance for hordes of ideologues and apparatchiks who might otherwise be simply anoraks clinging to some hopeful — or hopeless — agenda. The result is that it is now impossible for any new political movement to emerge from the population and find its way into the political system. As a series of events have indicated, any party that does not already belong to the club, and accept the governing ethos in all its dimensions, will be eviscerated with extreme prejudice by incumbents of the system of all hues, all working in concert and in their mutual interests.

Of course, the workability of a lot of this stuff comes down to the noxious presence of Twitter, which facilitates such toxic antics by pre-emptively intimidating the majority into a silence meekly adopted by many to avoid being daubed with the ‘far right’ paintbrush. Say, even 20 years ago, if someone had tried to label as ‘Nazis’ and ‘fascists’ ordinary Irish people who sought to defend the integrity of their communities from invasion by indifferent aliens, everyone would have simply laughed in their faces. Now, though secretly aware that it’s all nonsense, they behave outwardly as though the charge might have some basis, because the truth is no longer any defence.

These developments have utterly changed the texture of Irish political culture, rendering it closer to Germany of the 1930s than the Ireland I grew up in and wrote about in the 1980s and 1990s. Even if the Irish autogolpe/colour revolution can be called ‘velvet’, violence is now an endemic element of the broader Irish political scene, with anyone who seeks to confront official policy having to run a gauntlet of threats, menaces, and sometimes armed attacks, in order to remain holding their ground. On a Sunday afternoon last November, for example, at a massive luxury hotel complex just a 20 minute drive north of the Irish border, a busload of lobotomised thugs posturing as ‘defenders of democracy' —  more than a few of them bearing knives, hammers and other forms of weaponry — arrived in broad daylight and launched a sustained physical attack on the speakers and attendees at the annual conference of a legally registered political party, inflicting serious injuries on several people, putting one of them in hospital with quite horrific injuries. No aspect of this attack provoked outrage in the political establishments on either side of the border, and zero declamatory editorials in the newspapers. It provoked, indeed, very little but a series of weasel-worded ‘reports’ on various news platforms in which it was invariably emphasised that the party in question, the National Party, was a ‘far right’ organisation which had in the past been ‘opposed to Covid regulations’. The hotel in question, the Lough Erne Resort in County Fermanagh, instead of condemning the attackers in the roundest terms, more or less apologised for allowing the National Party to meet there in the first place, releasing a statement that declared inter alia: ‘As with any type of booking, as a commercial entity, we accept private conference bookings from around the world in good faith. We do not facilitate or tolerate behaviour of this type at the resort. The health and safety of our staff and guests, along with our guest experience is paramount, and we will therefore be increasing our levels of due diligence in relation to private conference bookings in the future.’ The problem, therefore, lay not with the knife- and hammer-wielding pondlife, but with the people seeking to involve themselves in the democratic life of the island.

I experienced a taste of this myself during the election campaign of 2020, in which I ran (for the first and last time) as a candidate  — in the constituency where I live and vote. One evening, I was invited to speak at a public meeting in Balbriggan, the main town in the north-Dublin constituency of Fingal, one of the areas most radically transformed by the waves of immigration that have washed over Ireland in the past two decades under the supervision of various wretched international busybodies posturing as ‘philanthropists’. Walking towards the venue with my wife, I was confronted by a twenty-something thug, his face partially masked, who stood in front of me, moving in either direction when I tried to walk around him, and then, having briefly blocked my path, pushing his face into mine and emitting numerous insults and expletives. I stood stock-still and avoided eye contact with the individual, who continued to shout obscenities at me for a minute or so. Then, growing tired of his one-sided argument, he walked around me, still swearing loudly.

When we reached the exterior of the venue, we found a mob of about 70 people — including many youngish, masked males — gathered outside. Nobody recognised me, so we were able to access the venue before they cottoned on.  I learned subsequently that many among the mob were members of Antifa, a secretive international terrorist organisation in the pay of the Open Society Foundation, headed up by George Soros. Another speaker, the leader of the National Party, Justin Barrett, was marooned in his car outside the gate for an hour, with a mob essentially sitting on his bonnet, while members of An Garda Síochána sought to implement the demands of the mob by persuading him to leave. In the end, they threatened him with arrest for ‘blocking the road’, so he went home. We continued with our meeting, addressing about 90 of our fellow citizens on matters pertaining to the coming election, as we were legally entitled to do. I had written five years earlier that, after the successful dismantling of our constitutional protections for marriage, family and parenting in the ‘marriage equality’ referendum, any bunch of thugs seeking to impose its will on Irish society now had a road-tested blueprint. What I did not predict was that, in the pursuit of its agendas, such a group might in the future attract the cooperation of the national police force.

In addition to this wave of unprecedented violent eruptions is a related phenomenon whereby events which might prove awkward, unwelcome or embarrassing for the Government are immediately pounced upon, as though under the supervision of some hidden, all-embracing PR agency, and subjected to preemptive action and statements by NGOs and politicians, with media complicity — all clearly acting under direction. In early 2022, for example, when a 23-year-old female Irish primary school teacher and musician was murdered by an immigrant while out jogging near her home, the killing was immediately the subject of misdirecting protests implying that the problem was ‘Irish misogyny’. Something similar happened a few months later, when two gay men were beheaded and castrated by a young Muslim man from an immigrant family in Sligo, and the establishment rose as one man to decry this escalation in ‘Irish homophobia’.

And of course, there has been a systematic nobbling of the electoral process. When I was a child, going to the polling station with my father after he finished work, generally close to the time the polls were due to close, I would stand watching as several army jeeps arrived, full of armed soldiers, who would carry out the ballot boxes and take them away, maintaining and certifying a chain of custody all the way to the count centre. Nowadays, the boxes are transported by a man in a white van, whom nobody bothers to check, follow or clock on his unspecified route to the count centre.

Compelled to rinse down to a single principle the sense I have had of the fundamental nature of the change that has occurred, I should say that there is no longer any patience within the political system for the idea that people feel entitled to criticise the Government or sit around talking about what is happening with a view to arriving at conclusions and making these known to the political authorities. No: The proposal now is that the system will tell the people what they are supposed to think about things, flatter their patriotism if they concur, and treat them as domestic terrorists if they demur. Voting is a mere adornment on this process of treating the people as they are deemed to deserve.

I have made mention of the UK and US, and hinted at some involvement by both in this sorry state of affairs. This, certainly, would be a reliable way of seeing all this. But there is more to it, as we live in an age when democratic or even official institutions are no longer the first or final authorities in the matters touched upon here. Deeper down, all this is the doing of an entity known as the Khazarian Mafia, based in (of all places!) Ukraine, which controls both the American Deep State and the remnants of the British Empire — which, by the way, continues to operate, in one sense ‘underground’, in another at the higher level of geopolitics. The Khazarians are the world’s biggest crime syndicate, their roots in an ancient tribe of ‘name-stealers’ — fake Jews, not to put a tooth in it — who nowadays trade under the name — among others —  of the World Economic Forum (WEF). Essentially, the Khazarians are the originators and orchestrators of the conspiracy (the word is entirely apposite) we have been confronted by for the past three years.

Ukraine, often referred to without undue malice as ‘the most corrupt country in Europe’, has long been a dark stain on the world, a cesspit of skullduggery, violence and criminality — especially so since the US-orchestrated coup of 2014. Long the base of the Khazarian mafia, which manifests there in the form of actual existing Nazis, Ukraine has for the past nine years been the epicentre of every type of malfeasance and evil — money laundering, prostitution, human- (including child-) trafficking, drug peddling — much of it orchestrated or implemented from the dark moral wastelands of the US Deep State and the limited imaginations of the Cultural Marxist revolutionaries who seek to overthrow Western civilisation in its present form and turn it into a kakistocracy in their own image. Since the latest stage of the Ukraine conflict began in February 2022, there has been relentless media suppression of the true facts of the conflict, leaving most people with no way of verifying or countering the official accounts, and therefore tending to accept them. Thus, the free world has come to believe that some kind of moral crusade for freedom and democracy is in train in Ukraine, and that on the outcome depends their future freedoms, which in reality are threatened by the instigators of the conflict, the Khazarians.

Like other populations, the Irish public has been fed a sick and mendacious narrative in which the Zelensky regime and its Nazi battalions become risibly the Good Guys, and Vladimir Putin and the Russians the evil-doers. This is nonsense and dangerous nonsense, for the war in Ukraine was actually provoked by NATO under Khazarian instructions.

In the past year, any doubts remaining about the health of Irish democracy after two years of the Covid coup have been dissipated by the behaviour of the Irish Government in the matter of the Ukrainian conflict. Even a couple of years ago,  it would have been beyond all capacity of human credulity to comprehend that the people in whom we vested the levers of control of our countries might end up as the willing servants of such an entity as the Khazarian Mafia, but this is what has now transpired. And not infrequently the thought occurs that, with Ukraine scheduled for total obliteration, the vacancy for most corrupt country in Europe may very soon be ‘offered’ to our own dear land — an acknowledgement of our political leadership’s service to the Khazarians, who in effect fomented and orchestrated the Irish autogolpe, using the American toolkit and its seasoned operatives.

Without knowing it, we had undergone another revolution — this time a rather different kind to the one that had happened a century before — a coup d’état against not so much the political establishment as the cultural value system of Irish society-in-time. That autogolpe has changed Ireland out of all recognition from any prior description of its personality, its culture or its character. It was like something had occurred soundlessly and out of sight, but with the most profound consequences for the life we had known and the country we had loved. Overnight, it came to appear as though we were constantly under attack from some indistinctly defined force. In effect, a war had been declared that continues still. The force that confronted us seemed never merely to resemble anything we had encountered before, but to be some kind of ultimate human power — as powerful as humans get to be, and then some. It was, one hopes, understandable that, in the heat of battle, we would forget or overlook that those who stood before us shouting and spitting were not the true enemy, but merely hired proxies who really believed in nothing but relatively trivial personal gain. But this was how, struggling for meanings, we initially came to see things. The true governing authority was hidden behind a veil, and we were confronted by ordinary swamp creatures that confounded us because their venomous actions and words seemed to lack sincerity, or implied a level of conviction that somehow did not seem to be merited or proportionate to the issue they claimed to be exercised by. They were proxies, surrogates of the Khazarians, the vast majority of whom had never stood upon the ground of Ireland in their lives.

In truth, probably what Richard Boyd Barrett is most afraid of is that the Irish people will rise up and reclaim their country from usurpers like him, and bring an end to its unlawful occupation one more time.