Finley is a Slugger reader from Belfast. He does not staunchly identify as a Unionist or a Republican and he generally likes to talk sense as he sees it. He can be fairly generous in that regard.
Why unionism must rethink its foreign policy tone—or risk alienation at home
The support expressed by some Northern Irish unionists for Israel’s more hardline policies—especially those involving displacement or demographic control—raises a curious question: why align with a distant conflict whose dynamics only superficially resemble their own present? Beneath this alignment lies a complex web of historical grievance, identity projection, and strategic miscalculation.
As war rages once again in the Middle East, some Northern Irish unionist commentators have found in Israel’s response to its enemies an unsettling mirror. There is open admiration—not just for Israel’s right to defend itself, but for its willingness to reshape demographics and assert dominance in the name of survival. This support, however, is not strategic; it is instinctive, historical, and deeply undermining.
Beneath it lies a longing—for a version of 1921 in which the British state had taken harsher steps to “secure” Northern Ireland by removing its nationalist population. In this projection, Israel becomes a stand-in for what some believe should have happened in Ireland: a decisive partition, sealed with demographic clarity. But while this may offer a sense of narrative satisfaction, it is a strategic cul-de-sac. It entrenches outdated mindsets, alienates potential allies, and confirms to others the worst stereotypes of what unionism represents.
The time has come for unionist leaders and commentators to ask themselves a difficult but urgent question: do they want to construct emotionally satisfying arguments about what might have been—or secure a better future in the society they now inhabit?
The Historical Backdrop
In the early 20th century, population transfers were often accepted—or at least tolerated—by the international system. From the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne (between Greece and Turkey) to the mass expulsions of Germans from Eastern Europe after World War II, ethnic homogenization was seen as a harsh but sometimes stabilizing solution to contested, pluralist regions. It was only in the wake of the Second World War that international law and human rights norms began to decisively reject such acts as violations of basic human dignity.
Against that backdrop, the British government’s decision not to conduct population transfers in Ireland in 1921 stands out. Partition created Northern Ireland with a significant Catholic/nationalist minority, but there was no serious attempt to relocate populations or redraw borders along ethno-religious lines. This restraint reflected a mix of caution, pragmatism, and a reluctance to risk deeper instability—though the result was a deeply divided society and decades of conflict.
For some hardline unionists, this absence of forced demographic reordering is seen as a historic mistake—an example of British political weakness or moral hesitation. In their view, the enduring presence of a substantial nationalist community in Northern Ireland planted the seed of long-term instability. Retrospectively, some look to the policies of postwar Eastern Europe or present-day Israel—harsh, decisive, and ethnically uncompromising—as models of what could have “solved” the Irish problem more definitively.
It is this historical longing, this counterfactual ideal, that seems to inform the instinctive support for Israel’s more hardline policies among certain unionist voices. The attraction is not merely to Israeli statehood or security, but to the idea that someone, somewhere, is doing what Britain failed to do: drawing a hard line and defending it without apology.
But this emotional or symbolic alignment has no real strategic benefit. Supporting Israeli policies—even if they reflect a unionist “might-have-been”—does nothing to advance unionism’s cause today. The 1921 settlement is long since fixed. Demographic engineering of the sort imagined by historical hardliners is neither politically feasible nor morally defensible in today’s Northern Ireland. Aligning with a controversial foreign policy for the sake of emotional validation or historical resonance can only alienate potential allies and reinforce a grievance-driven identity, rather than building a modern, inclusive one.
More fundamentally, this position reveals a lack of political sophistication. Politics is not about winning symbolic arguments about the past—it is about securing real, tangible outcomes in the present. Supporting a foreign state because it behaves in ways you wish your own had—even when those actions are condemned globally—is not strategy. It is impotent projection.
In this light, unionist support for Israel’s harshest policies, when motivated by retroactive wish-thinking about Irish history, appears not just emotionally charged but strategically hollow. It reflects a yearning for a lost moment of imagined control—not a plan for future stability or success. As the international community has moved decisively away from population transfer as a legitimate tool of statecraft, clinging to those narratives offers no serious advantage. Unionist leadership today needs to focus on what can be built, not what was never done.
Strategic Thinking vs. Narrative Loyalty: A Tension in Unionist Politics
At the heart of this political dynamic lies a crucial distinction: strategic thinking versus narrative loyalty. Strategic thinking involves acting in ways that produce the most favourable outcomes in the present and future, regardless of historical grievances or emotional attachment. Narrative loyalty, by contrast, is the impulse to align with policies or positions that validate one’s historical worldview—even when doing so yields no tangible benefit.
These two modes are often in tension, especially in post-conflict societies like Northern Ireland, where memory, identity, and trauma shape the political imagination.
Within sections of Northern Irish unionism—particularly its more hardline fringes—a powerful narrative persists:
– That the British state failed in 1921 by not securing a homogeneously unionist Northern Ireland.
– That decades of nationalist resistance, Catholic demographic growth, and constitutional uncertainty stem from this foundational weakness.
– That any modern state—such as Israel—that avoids this “mistake” is, in effect, vindicating the hardline unionist worldview, even if in a vastly different historical and political context.
This is narrative loyalty in action: supporting policies because they symbolically validate an aspirational imagined past, even if they do not serve any present strategic interest.
But narrative loyalty carries real costs:
1. It misreads the current political reality. The Good Friday Agreement is based on power-sharing, mutual recognition, and parity of esteem. The logic of control through exclusion is not only outdated—it is legally, politically, and morally unworkable.
2. It undermines the credibility of moderate unionism. Public expressions of support for aggressive foreign policies—especially when they echo ethno-nationalist language—alienate younger voters, centrists, and international observers. Unionism already faces challenges in overcoming perceptions of rigidity and sectarianism; invoking hardline analogies only deepens that challenge.
3. It prioritises emotional gratification over political gain. Even if it feels vindicating to support a powerful state doing what Britain didn’t in 1921, such a position achieves nothing. It does not strengthen Northern Ireland’s place in the UK—it risks weakening it by portraying unionism as inflexible and ideologically extreme.
4. It forfeits political influence. Strategic thinking is about building relationships, shaping institutions, and securing long-term stability. It involves compromise, complexity, and engaging even with former adversaries. Narrative loyalty, in contrast, often demands ideological purity over pragmatism—a posture that leads to political isolation.
To move forward, unionism—especially its leadership—must re-centre strategic thinking:
– Focus on making devolution work and delivering competent governance.
– Rebuild trust across community lines by rejecting inflammatory foreign comparisons.
– Affirm a visible commitment to democratic norms and human rights.
– Recognise that strength in a pluralist society comes not from dominance, but from coalition-building and adaptability.
– Understand that the past cannot be rewritten by proxy—certainly not by clinging to the actions of foreign powers pursuing unrelated goals.
The task of leadership is not to be emotionally right about the past, but to be materially effective in the present. That means letting go of comforting historical projections and embracing the difficult, incremental work of shaping a future that people of all backgrounds can believe in.
Re-framing Unionism: Strategic Empathy and the Palestine Question
If unionism is to preserve and strengthen Northern Ireland’s place within the United Kingdom, it must present itself as inclusive, forward-looking, and morally grounded. This is more than a matter of optics—it’s a strategic necessity. In a society shaped by cross-community trust, international perception, and generational change, unionism’s tone and values matter just as much as its constitutional stance.
One key arena in which this can be demonstrated is in how unionist political actors engage with global issues—most notably the ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine.
Why It Matters
The way Northern Ireland’s leaders respond to international conflicts sends a message about the kind of values they represent. Abroad, it affects how the UK and wider world view the moral and political seriousness of unionist leadership. At home, it shapes how moderates, younger voters, and those from nationalist or unaligned backgrounds perceive unionism—as either capable of empathy, or locked in a sectarian mindset.
Uncritical support for Israel’s most hardline policies—especially when framed in sectarian or ethno-nationalist language—does not reinforce the unionist case. It risks portraying unionism as disconnected from the pluralist, rights-based values that define the modern UK, and that increasingly matter to the electorate.
What Unionists Can Do Differently
1. Show Empathy Without Abandoning Core Principles
Unionists do not need to renounce their support for Israel’s right to exist or to defend itself. But they can balance that position with a recognition of Palestinian suffering and legitimate national aspirations. Publicly affirming support for restraint, proportionality, and human rights—values the UK itself upholds—adds moral weight and credibility.
Crucially, the tone matters. A posture of compassion, rather than triumphalism, signals that unionism is not morally insular or rigidly tribal, but open, human, and principled.
2. Use Foreign Policy to Reflect Shared Values, Not Settled Grievances
Rather than projecting historic frustrations (such as “Britain should have done what Israel is doing”) onto today’s conflicts, unionist leaders could use these moments to reaffirm their commitment to peaceful coexistence, reconciliation, and the lessons of Northern Ireland’s own past.
This recasts unionism not as nostalgic for dominance, but as a movement with genuine credibility in discussions about conflict resolution and peace-building—values which can resonate both locally and internationally.
3. Position Unionism as the Ethical Option
The Republic of Ireland is often seen internationally as a liberal, progressive state grounded in rights and diplomacy. Unionism needs not to resent this, but to rise to it—and exceed it. That means championing protections for minorities, supporting inter-community cooperation, and standing up for human dignity not just at home, but abroad.
Unionism should reject any policies or rhetoric—foreign or domestic—that resemble ethno-religious exclusion. Embracing universal values strengthens its moral standing and disarms outdated stereotypes.
4. Engage Young and Moderate Voices
The emerging generation of unionists is more globally minded, less sectarian, and more invested in pluralism than in zero-sum identity politics. These voters care about equality, peace, and human rights. They respond to moral clarity and inclusive vision—not historical grievance or combative rhetoric.
To remain relevant and compelling, unionism must demonstrate that it is a broad, humane, and thoughtful political tradition—not one trapped by resentment or defensive instinct.
Strategic Goal: Be the Better Story
In the years ahead, the constitutional future of Northern Ireland will be debated not only on sentiment, but on substance. The question will be: which vision of society offers more security, more rights, and a better quality of life?
Unionism cannot afford to be seen as the side that supports repression abroad and division at home. A strategically mature unionism would instead align itself with the UK’s best traditions: liberal democracy, rule of law, and human dignity. It would model empathy across communities. And it would show that it can lead not just for unionists—but for everyone in Northern Ireland.
To secure Northern Ireland’s place in the United Kingdom, unionism must win more than just votes—it must win moral authority. That begins with rejecting narrative-driven alignments with foreign powers that flatter the past aspirations of ‘what might have been’ but fail the present. Instead, it means building a credible, ethical, and inclusive vision of Northern Ireland that outshines the past—and outcompetes any alternative future.
The Case for Strategic Leadership in Unionism
Unionist engagement with global conflicts like Israel–Palestine reveals a deeper tension within the movement itself: a persistent pull between narrative attraction and strategic purpose. The temptation to identify with hardline positions abroad—especially those that appear to vindicate a more aggressive, exclusionary vision of partition—may feel emotionally satisfying. But it does nothing to advance unionism’s political fortunes in the here and now.
Worse, this kind of instinctive, belligerent rhetoric is not just tactically useless—it is actively damaging. When unionist commentators frame their worldview in terms of ethno-religious dominance or offer uncritical support for repression elsewhere, they reinforce the most damaging caricatures of unionism: as backward-looking, defensive, and intolerant.
This plays directly into the hands of those advocating for a united Ireland, who can then present the Republic as the more tolerant, progressive, and peaceful alternative. In a contest not just of identities, but of governance and values, this is a losing position.
Yet this trajectory is not inevitable. Unionism is not doomed to drift into irrelevance or alienation. It is still possible—urgently necessary, in fact—for unionist leadership to reassert strategic discipline and moral clarity. That means:
1. Challenging voices who trade in grievance and sectarianism under the guise of “telling it like it is.”
2. Articulating a vision of unionism that speaks to all communities—not just to a historical base.
3. Showing empathy for others’ suffering, including that of Palestinians, and embracing complex, principled positions rooted in the UK’s best traditions: human rights, rule of law, and international responsibility.
4. Engaging the post-conflict generation, which will shape the constitutional future of Northern Ireland, and which expects leadership to offer more than tribal solidarity.
5. Understanding that strength lies not in enemies made or historical grievances rehearsed, but in coalitions built and futures secured.
Unionism will not thrive by clinging to fantasies of how things might have been. It will thrive by building a coalition around a modern, inclusive, responsible vision of Northern Ireland—one rooted in shared values, not just inherited loyalties.
Strategic leadership is not easy. It requires saying no to the loudest voices in the room, and instead choosing a path that is principled, forward-looking, and often solitary. But that is the nature of leadership.
If unionism is to survive—and thrive—in the 21st century, its leaders must decide whether they want to validate wishful narratives about the past or build a future worth having.
“And let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due time we shall reap if we do not give up.”
This is a guest slot to give a platform for new writers either as a one off, or a prelude to becoming part of the regular Slugger team.
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