Housing crises, displacement and political failures affect both those leaving Ireland and those arriving in search of safety

There stands a ramshackle hotel in a rural town in the 26 Counties, close to the border with the British controlled six counties. It is a reminder of migration in both directions – of emigration from Ireland and immigration into the country – and of the emotions it can engender in us all.

Emigration by young people seeking work and a decent life elsewhere has long been part of life here, whether during the period of full British occupation or since the imposed partition of 1922. In more recent decades, emigration abroad was to a large extent replaced by young people leaving rural areas for cities such as Dublin in search of employment. But with the ongoing housing emergency, spiralling rents and the lack of affordable homes, emigration abroad has made an unwelcome comeback. Many are now building lives far from their homeland and loved ones, including as far away as Australia. Last year, more than 13,000 Irish people emigrated to Australia alone – the highest number in over a decade.

The state of disrepair of this hotel also bears witness to the seemingly contradictory process of immigration into Ireland. People seeking a better life here, or seeing the need to flee their homelands because of wars, sanctions or economic and environmental devastation imposed on them by powerful outside forces, make often perilous journeys to come here with the hope of finding security and protection. 

This rundown hotel was once proposed as a site for the Irish government’s long-standing so-called Direct Provision system — a system that subjected people seeking refuge to institutionalised accommodation and control. Hotels such as this, owned by some allies and associates of government ministers and politicians, have generated millions of euros from the system.  

When local people heard of the government’s intention, they got together to offer a Céad Míle Fáilte (One Hundred Thousand Welcomes) with support services and practical aid to the asylum seekers. However, a tiny minority set fire to the hotel in misdirected anger at the government, and stopped it being used. 

It still stands in a state of disrepair, serving as a daily reminder that when we are angered by the harmful actions of governments acting in the interests of the oligarchy, we should not direct that anger towards vulnerable and blameless refugees, nor against the needs of our own communities.

The once welcoming entrance of the empty, half burned hotel is now marred by a “Danger, Keep Out” sign, offering no benefit to anyone. The building was meant to be a place of shelter and comfort for people. Most of the local community had organised to welcome asylum seekers when the need arose to do so. But a small group tried to set it ablaze because they felt anger towards the antics of the government, anger that was turned into a destructive and wasteful action.  

In the midst of our anger and frustration with the government, we must keep in mind that Ireland is a country affected by migration in both directions. People are leaving because of the housing crisis, as homes are unaffordable for many, because the cost of building a life here is unworkable for the young. People arriving in Ireland are also fleeing crises. We should understand that Ireland has been an oppressed nation for centuries. Nothing is gained by blaming other oppressed peoples.

That’s why DiEM25’s migration paper puts it plainly: migration isn’t a crisis. It’s the consequence of crises – political, economic, environmental – caused by policy choices. The oligarchs in power making those choices act against the asylum seekers, and at the same time act against our communities. To confront this, we need a People’s Céad Míle Fáilte – a welcoming solidarity for all. Together we can choose to make a better world for everyone. 

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