‘We’re All Irish, All Christian, All Greedy’

All changed, changed utterly, W.B. Yeats said. That was long ago, when the “troubles” were in their infancy, when nationalist leaders were executed in 1916, when peace was almost a century away.

However, the newfound peace in Ireland won’t change everything, if it changes anything at all.

Because a funny thing happened on the way to this agreement.

The North was once the prosperous part of this island, supported as it is and was by millions annually from Westminster.

While the motorists in the South drove through narrow, pot-holed lanes, in the North they had motorways.

They built schools and hospitals, even a new university. They seemed to want for nothing.

But as they, all of them--Unionist, Nationalist, Loyalist and Republican--looked inwardly at their problems, the people and politicians of the South looked out, toward Europe and America mainly, and nurtured a sick economy into one that is the envy of Europe if not the world.

As the economy grew, and as money dripped down to the ordinary people in higher wages and reduced taxes, the North and its problems became less and less relevant.

Once, it was photographs of Eamon de Valera, the pope and John F. Kennedy that graced the walls of homes in the South.

Now, it is more likely to be Boyzone, the Spice Girls and the Manchester United footballer David Backham.

Once, it was a photograph of executed 1916 leader Padraig Pearse that the people of the South looked to. Now it is Daniel O’Connell, not because he was a nationalist who endorsed peaceful means, but because it is his portrait that adorns the 20-pound note.

Wealth and nationalism are incompatible. Wealth crushes nationalism, dissolves it.

And as wealth grew, the only concern Southerners had in relation to the North was that its problems could halt our march to wealth.

It many ways, it has ever been thus.

When the troubles were at their height, queues of cars from the Republic could be seen snaking their way into the village of Jonesboro, right in the heart of County Armagh’s “bandit country,” heartland of the Irish Republican Army. This wasn’t some show of support for the “oppressed” minority in the North. No. It was a bargain-hunt.

Back then, taxes were lower in the North. Liquor was cheaper. Petrol was cheaper. Food was cheaper. Clothes were cheaper.

And the Southerners, nationalistic and proud, they said, drove North to spend their money.

If anything has changed utterly, it’s shopping habits.

Now, petrol is far cheaper in the South, and Northerners, regardless of creed or political belief, drive over the border to fill up their tanks. They come to Dublin in hordes to spend their money. They look enviously at our new buildings and our new roads.

That’s been the relationship forever. We wanted their goods when it saved us money. They want ours when they can save.

Rugby has been forever too.

It’s an all-Ireland game, despite the fact that looking for a Northern Catholic on a Northern team is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Southerners have always gone North to follow their teams and visa versa.

Only now, they don’t hang signs in their Protestant clubhouse bars in the North, warning: No Southern Money.

Peace is seen, North and South, as not just peace but a way of becoming more wealthy.

In the South, peace means we won’t have to spend as much guarding the border, keeping terrorists in prison, maintaining an army out-of-proportion to our size and needs. It means investors won’t be put off. It means we can maintain our growth.

In the North, peace means they can get all the things we have. And soon.

There’s no difference really. We’re all Irish. We’re all Christian. We’re all greedy.

We’re all human.

No, it hasn’t changed utterly. But it has changed, more because of money than peace, more because of wealth than religion, more because the young of the island, North and South, want decent homes and decent cars and decent vacations regardless of what flag flies over them.

It mightn’t seem that way, as politicians bicker and bark.

Yet isn’t that what politicians do?

Changed utterly?

No, not really. It’s just that, for the first time in 30 years, life goes on.

And if that’s the only change, we can only say, thank God for that.