Why I’m voting no
Why I’m voting no, part 1
I don’t think anyone can accuse me of being a Euro-sceptic. I have a knowledge of over a dozen European languages,; my father fought to liberate Europe from the curse of Nazism and my heart misses a beat whenever I hear the bass intone those magical words “Frunde!” at the beginning of Beethoven’s setting of Schiller’s Ode to Joy. I have always been committed to the true European ideal of openness, culture, decency, justice and openness. Sadly, this vision has long ago been sold out to a mean version of Europe based on greed and bureaucratic megalomania, a Europe of the always-haves versus the never-haves, a Europe of a few winners but many losers. For me Europe is a Mahler-like Symphony of a Thousand, not an exemplar of grey, unanimous plainsong.
As I I’ve stated my father fought to clear Europe of Nazism, suffering imprisonment as a POW Yet when I look around me it’s as if the Nazis are back in control, especially here in Ireland – not surprisingly since many of our academics and senior civil servants’ ancestors were keen partisans of General O’Duffy. There is a jaw-dropping lack of democracy which is more becoming a fascist dictatorship. At the same time there is cynical recourse to electoral vaudevilles such as referenda to give the acts of the elite some thin democratic veneer.
In last year’s referendum I didn’t vote at all. This was not an act of laziness because I “couldn’t be arsed” to vote. I was truly caught between two not very attractive stools. On the one hand there were many voices in the “no” camp whom I thought frankly unattractive, including the usual pot-pourri of cranks, racists and “pro-life” nuts, many of whom dreamed of a nice clerico-fascist Ireland lying somewhere in the Atlantic halfway between Franco’s Spain and Governor Wallace’s Alabama. But then there were the “yea sayers”. They wanted me and others to give our support to a bad treaty which no one understood, and which was deliberately drafted in an obtuse style to defy common comprehension.
One year on. Lisbon Mark 2 is still an incomprehensible document, making a camcorder-operating manual appear like child’s play. The only real different between the versions is that Ireland is guaranteed a commissioner. This is very important for those members of our political superstructure who are interested in jobs – jobs for themselves and their family members. The post of commissioner is a valuable political gift to the head of any government, especially one who wants to reward someone for their loyalty or rid himself of an uncomfortable rival. The commissioner also has a suite of hangers-… oops I mean officials, many drawn from the ranks of their own family or the families of prominent party members. Few have much knowledge of European culture or languages, and quite a few have come up through the ranks of the party branches in our universities.
I still fell grave misgivings about some on the No side of the debate, though my attitude towards some has mellowed, particularly vis-à-vis Mr Declan Ganley. He used to mystify me. Here was a man who had done business in Albania – and survived. Why should he have to account for every cent of his wealth just because he dares to speak out against the politico-bureaucratic consensus?
But I’m turning my back on the individual personalities and motivations of those on the “no” side. That’s their business, and there is nobody on the ‘no’ side who comes anywhere near the moral emptiness of the rotten, cowardly, deceitful conmen and women on the Yes side.
To be continued…
