1 Introduction

Ireland is a country with a generous citizenship offering but restricted external voting rights. The first (or emigrant) generation lose the right to vote eighteen months after departure; other non-resident citizens, including those in Northern Ireland (NI) are currently ineligible to vote. In November 2020 the Irish Government committed to holding a referendum which if passed, would give all Irish citizens, resident and non-resident the right to vote in Presidential elections.

Irish citizens living in Britain and NI have come under the spotlight since 2016 following the United Kingdom’s (UK) decision to leave the European Union (EU). Colonialism, historical migratory patterns and the Good Friday Agreement have meant a great number of UK-born people have eligibility for Irish citizenship which many enacted in what has been perceived to be a post-Brexit rush to retain European citizenship. Whilst assertions have been made as to the motivations of this population, who I term the ‘Brexit Irish’, my research and that of others has demonstrated a myriad of reasons as to why people have felt compelled to obtain Irish citizenship post-Brexit. Given the forthcoming referendum in Ireland, the ‘Brexit Irish’ may soon be able to vote in Irish Presidential elections – but do they want or feel entitled to this right?

I will begin this chapter with an overview of external voting, briefly engaging with arguments for and against the practice which I will then explore further in the context of Ireland, recounting political and campaigning milestones. Following this, I introduce the ‘Brexit Irish’ through engagement with relevant literature and an overview of the wider research project from which my data arises. I will then consider responses from participants on the subject of Irish external voting. The respondents almost overwhelmingly communicated an unwillingness to participate in Irish elections, which I conclude may demonstrate a lack of connection between Ireland and non-resident Irish citizens, in particular those in NI and beyond the emigrant generation.

2 External Voting

The right to vote is generally accepted as one of the key aspects of democratic citizenship, however this right has often had conditions attached on the basis of residency (Honohan, 2011). Since the late nineteenth century, countries across the world have permitted external voting for citizens outside of their usual national territory, albeit for small and specific subsets of the population (Lafleur, 2015). Those awarded such rights tended to be military or diplomatic workers stationed outside of the national territory and in some cases, votes were granted to seafarers (Lafleur, 2015). This practice has changed over time, as countries have – particularly since the 1990s – increasingly removed voting restrictions on external citizens (Spiro, 2006; Lafleur, 2015). By 2013 it was estimated that 129 countries allowed external voting of some iteration; in the same year just three of the 47 Council of European states did not permit external votes (or restricted it only to those abroad on an official capacity) (Lappin, 2016).

Approaches to and provision of external voting systems vary across the world (Lafleur, 2015). In Canada, Australia and the UK, prior residency is a requirement, with the right to vote permitted only for a set time after leaving (O’Neill, 2019). Amongst the EU 27, 22 countries do not have residency requirements, nor do they set time limits following departure (O’Neill, 2019). Under the EU, member states are tasked with establishing their own national voting rights, however The European Commission (EC) has issued guidance strongly suggesting that states who do not provide external voting take action ‘so that citizens can get back on the electoral role of their home country’ (European Commission, 2014). This is considered particularly important by the EC as whilst EU citizenship provides EU citizens residing in another EU country ‘the rights to vote and stand as candidates in Local and European elections in their EU country of residence’ (European Union, 2020), they are not permitted to take part in national elections unless they acquire citizenship of that country. The process of meeting residency and other stipulations in order to achieve citizenship in some EU countries may take in excess of ten years. Therefore, an individual moving from a state which does not permit external voting could result in the individual being disenfranchised from national voting for a number of years.

There are many arguments for and against the provision of voting rights for citizens living abroad. Common factors held up as cautionary points include (but are not limited to): whether or not those who are not subject to the politics and laws of a country should have a voice after leaving (López-Guerra, 2005); if those with ‘tenuous connections’ to a country can make an informed vote (Green, 2007:94) if people should be entitled to representation without taxation (Hickman, 2016) and that large external voting populations may ‘swamp’ a ‘home’ electorate (Honohan, 2011). It has been suggested that ruling parties who may consider an external voting population as opponents to their electoral interests might choose to deny non-resident voting rights in order to protect their position (Spiro, 2006). Conversely, an incumbent party may perceive the introduction of extraterritorial votes as assistive to their remaining in power and proceed to extend the franchise.

Those in support of external voting may counter: that modern interconnectivity provides sufficient opportunities for external engagement with a ‘home’ country (European Commission, 2014) and that external enfranchisement may encourage life-long links or even the return migration to their country of origin (Honohan, 2011). Equally, counterpoints to concerns over ‘swamping’ of ‘home’ votes can include: that interest in home affairs can wane across time and generations (Fitzgerald, 2006); that emigrant voting globally tends to draw a consistently low turnout rate (Hutcheson & Arrighi, 2015); and that the creation of dedicated external vote constituencies can channel the impact of large external electorates (O’Neill, 2019).

3 The Irish Context

3.1 Emigration and Diaspora

The question of non-resident citizenship and voting is particularly pertinent to the Republic of Ireland (ROI) which has a lengthy history of emigration. Across the nineteenth and twentieth centuries thousands in each generation of Irish people emigrated, fleeing ‘poverty and social repression to seek work and new lives abroad’ (Crowley et al., 2006). Irish emigration has continued into the twenty-first century, particularly following the 2007 collapse of the ‘Celtic Tiger’ economy (Ryan & Kurdi, 2015); a quarter of a million Irish citizens departed Ireland between 2008 and 2014 with more than 70 per cent of this cohort in their twenties when they left (O’Neill, 2019). According to the Department for Foreign Affairs (DfA), it is thought that worldwide up to 70 million people claim Irish ancestry (DfA, 2015:10). Irish citizenship can be claimed down to the third generation and an estimated 3.8 million citizens live outside Ireland - up to half of this number reside in NI (Hickman, 2020). Ireland, in line with other countries has since the 1990s increasingly recognised benefits associated with diaspora engagement (Devlin Trew, 2018) however these efforts have received some criticism, accused of being overly concerned with the extraction of money or capital from the Irish abroad (Boyle & Kavanagh, 2018; Hickman, 2020). In response, the Irish Government has increasingly acknowledged the diaspora as both ‘an asset and a responsibility’, with a recognizable broadening of strategies including the funding of projects that support welfare, advocacy and connectivity amongst the Irish abroad (Boyle & Kavanagh, 2018:68). Nevertheless, a notable absence within these strategies is the provision of external voting for citizens abroad (Devlin Trew, 2018; Hickman, 2020).

3.2 Irish External Votes – Policy & Campaigning

At the time of writing (May 2022), Irish emigrants retain the right to vote in Irish elections for just 18 months after leaving, and in order to enact this entitlement they must return to vote in-person (Mackle, 2018). Returning to Ireland and voting in an election after the 18-month period is classed as a criminal offence (O’Neill, 2019). There are some exceptions to these rules. Firstly, diplomatic staff and military personnel posted abroad can vote in all elections by postal ballot (Honohan, 2011). Secondly, graduates of the National University of Ireland and Trinity College Dublin cast votes in Seanad Éireann (the Upper House) elections to elect six Senators, this is enacted by postal vote, papers are sent to the voter wherever they live, globally (National University of Ireland, 2020). As Conor O’Neill points out, this means that a proportion of Irish citizens have the ability to vote in Irish elections from outside of the ROI ‘simply by registering a foreign address with the relevant university and returning their ballot by post’ (O’Neill, 2019:109).

Non-resident voting for Irish citizens has arisen a number of times with increasing regularity since the early 1990s (Honohan, 2011) with lobby groups founded from the late 1980s onward – Glór an Deorai in Britain, Irish Votes Abroad in Australia and the Irish Emigrant Vote Campaign in the USA (Hickman, 2016). In 1991 Glór an Deorai published a policy document calling for an extension of voting rights to emigrants for up to twenty years after leaving Ireland, this was followed by a private member’s bill instigated by the then Labour spokesman on emigration Gerry O’Sullivan TD (Glynn et al., 2013; Hickman, 2016). The bill was marginally defeated by four votes (Honohan, 2011: Hickman, 2016; O’Neill, 2019). Just before Christmas the same year, the Irish Emigrant Vote Campaign chartered a plane from New York to Dublin using the flight as ‘a combination symbol of return and faith’, to demonstrate their strength of feeling toward securing external voting (Mulkerns, 1991). A plan to have three dedicated seats in the Seanad to represent the emigrant population was proposed during the mid-1990s (Honohan, 2011), however as campaign groups had tended to focus on Dáil (lower house) representation and a voice in Presidential elections, this proposal was ‘generally seen as a red herring’ (Glynn et al., 2013).

Arguments against giving Irish emigrants the vote during the 1990s centred mainly around two points, both of which have been roundly discredited by Mary Hickman. The first – that constitutional issues prevented the extension of the franchise is, according to Hickman a misnomer, because the Irish constitution does not contain any clause that disbars Irish citizens abroad from voting in national elections, instead a legislation change would be required (Hickman, 2016). The second was the suggestion that there should be no representation without taxation, which Hickman describes as a diversionary argument of little substance, pointing to other countries who allow non-resident voting (Hickman, 2016:15). Linking financial contributions and political rights is provocative, unsettling the idea that differing social statuses should not affect the rights and obligations of citizens (Lappin, 2016). Contribution models, according to Iseult Honohan can be ‘under-inclusive in defining the demos’, excluding those who for reasons such as age or health are unable to contribute (Honohan, 2011: 547).

In 1997 Fianna Fáil’s election manifesto pledged to introduce external voting by 2000, yet despite the party winning the election, the promise did not materialise (Hickman, 2016). 2002 saw a report of the Oireachtas All-Party Committee on the Constitution recommend that only resident citizens should have the right to vote in the Dáil elections (Honohan, 2011), advising that the Taoiseach designate a senator(s) who ‘can cater for groups such as our emigrants’ (Government of Ireland, 2002). Designating a dedicated constituency or representative is a way in which other countries have dealt with the possibility of large emigrant votes ‘swamping’ an election (Honohan, 2011). This may have been on the mind of the Irish Government when in 2009 they proposed an Electoral Commission to investigate feasibility into external voting in Presidential elections (Honohan, 2011).

2011 saw the establishment of VICA (Votes for Irish Citizens Abroad), a London-based group who campaign for Irish citizens to have the right to vote in elections and referendums in Ireland (VICA, 2020a; b). In 2013 the issue of external voting in Presidential elections was referred by the Government to the Convention on the Constitution, who balloted in favour of the move (O’Neill, 2019). The Convention voted separately on ‘citizens outside the state’ and ‘citizens resident in NI’ with the ‘yes’ votes coming in for both at 78 per cent and 73 per cent respectively, additionally the Convention signalled votes be open to all citizens, not just those with prior residency (Convention of the Constitution, 2013).

During 2015, the government published Global Irish: Ireland’s Diaspora Policy in which it acknowledged campaigning groups on the issue of voting and the importance of external voting to non-resident Irish citizens (Hickman, 2016). The document took a cautious approach, stating that the introduction of external voting would be ‘challenging to introduce and to manage’ commenting that the Government had asked for further analysis to take place (DfA, 2015: 21). A year later, the first Irish emigrant to be appointed to the Senate took his seat, Chicago-based Billy Lawless (Kenny, 2016). A passionate advocate and campaigner for the Irish abroad, Lawless is also a co-founder of the international coalition of Irish emigrant voting rights organisations, VotingRights.ie. (Kenny, 2016).

Two oft-cited arguments against extending votes to citizens abroad are that those who are not subject to the laws and political decisions of a country should not have a say in elections and that those who have migrated are unable to maintain a significant interest, connection and understanding of the country they left. These arguments came to the fore in Ireland during 2015 and 2018 with the Marriage Equality and Repeal the 8th Referendums. Prior to the Marriage Equality Referendum, the Twitter hashtag #HomeToVote was recorded 72,000 times in 24 hours as Irish emigrants from across the world made their way to Ireland to cast their vote (Mackle, 2018). Those unable to vote joined in with social media posts, with some posting online about calling family in Ireland, encouraging them to vote ‘Yes’ (Fottrell, 2015; Mackle, 2018). Danielle Mackle describes this as the diaspora mobilising ‘to make their voices heard in the hope of creating a more open and tolerant society at home to which they may someday return’ (Mackle, 2018:119). Similar scenes could be witnessed around Repeal the 8th; post-referendum media spoke of emigrants motivated to return to vote, many of whom expressed a desire to make change in an Ireland they hoped to return to in the future (Ryan, 2018,Kenny, 2018: O’Neill, 2018). Return migration is sometimes viewed as the pinnacle of the diasporic dream (Ní Laoire, 2008) and in 2012 research into the lives of recent Irish emigrants found that 72 per cent indicated ‘a high intention to return’ (Devlin Trew, 2018). A year later University College Cork’s Emigre project reported their respondents (recent emigrants) felt that those who intended to return should have an input in Irish elections (Glynn et al., 2013). The Emigre team recounted that only a minority of interviewees didn’t view losing their right to vote on exit as a major issue (Ibid, 2013). The Irish Government has expressed great interest in encouraging the return of emigrants, stating in 2015 an intention to attract 70,000 people back to Ireland by 2020 (Devlin Trew, 2018).

Between 2017 and 2019 the Irish Government announced intentions to hold a referendum on external voting in Presidential elections, however these plans have been repeatedly postponed due to the impact of the prolonged Brexit process (Carswell, 2017; Carswell, 2020).

In November 2020, the Irish Government launched ‘Global Ireland: Ireland’s Diaspora Strategy 2020 – 2025’ in which they committed to holding a referendum on voting rights in Presidential elections for external citizens (DfA, 2020a; b). The document claimed that ‘Greater engagement of our citizens outside of the State in our democracy will strengthen the connection between the diaspora and Ireland’ and set intentions to ‘sustain and renew a meaningful connection’ with the Irish diaspora (DfA, 2020a, b). VICA welcomed the strategy and the planned referendum, writing in their November 2020 campaign newsletter ‘The president represents the entire Irish nation, and all citizens should be invested in their election.’ (VICA, 2020a; b).

In recent years, as intentions to hold a referendum on Presidential elections for non-resident citizens have been announced, Irish media outlets have provided comment and content on the subject. With an apparent lack of ‘bottom up’ academic research on external voting for Irish citizens in NI and Irish citizens beyond the emigrant generation, Irish media has in its stead delivered podcasts on the topic (see in particular ‘The Irish Passport Podcast’: Mc Inerney & O’Leary, 2019) as well as articles and reports (see for example: Carswell, 2017; Gilligan, 2019; O’Riordan, 2019; Spillane, 2020). Articles featuring ‘vox pops’ from resident and non-resident citizens often cite the arguments for and against external voting already discussed in this chapter, in addition to more specific concerns such as anxieties about the potential influence of “nostalgic” and “conservative” Irish Americans having a vote (O’Riordan, 2019).

4 Brexit; Irish Citizens in the UK and NI

There are approximately 1.9 million Irish citizens resident in NI and an estimated 412,658 ROI-born people living in the UK (Hickman, 2020). The DfA takes a maximalist approach (based upon people in NI having the right to be British, Irish or both) in estimating that there are in the region of 356,589 people in Britain who are the children of people born in the ROI or NI (DfA, 2017a; b; c).

In the aftermath of the 2016 ‘Brexit’ referendum, many British citizens rushed to find ways to retain access to EU rights, with some newspapers publishing articles advising how UK-born people might access a passport from an EU state (Wood & Gilmartin, 2018). In response to a reported rise in British citizens seeking advice on emigration immediately following Brexit, publications also ran articles informing readers of ‘politically progressive’ countries that they could move to, with the New Statesman including Ireland as part of its ‘7 of the best’ (Rampen, 2016). It wasn’t long before applications for Irish citizenship and passports began to rise. Less than two months after the referendum The Telegraph reported a 70 per cent surge in Irish passport applications by British people, and a 63 per cent increase in applications from NI (Harley, 2016). Figures in the UK media varied and conflicted, but in January 2017 the DfA stated that 2016 NI applications saw a 26.5 per cent rise over the 2015 figures, whilst applications from Britain increased by 40.6 per cent in the same period (DfA, 2017a, b, c). This trend continued throughout 2017, 2018 and 2019 (DfA, 2017a, b, c, 2018, 2019). In NI (which had returned a majority ‘remain’ vote in the referendum) people who might not have traditionally opted to apply for Irish citizenship submitted applications (de Mars et al., 2018; Wood & Gilmartin, 2018). Indeed, this action was encouraged by British MP and Democratic Union Party member Ian Paisley Jr. who, along with his party campaigned for the Brexit leave vote (Irish Independent, 2016).

4.1 Irish Citizenship Eligibility for UK and NI Born Residents

Irish citizenship for UK and NI born residents can be accessed via two methods, ancestry or birthright provision:

  1. 1.

    Ancestry:

    1. (a)

      Having a parent who was born on the island of Ireland on or before 31 December 2004;

    or

    1. (b)

      By being the grandchild of someone born on the island of Ireland on or before 31 December 2004 and having their own birth registered on the Foreign Birth Register

    or

    1. (c)

      Being the great-grandchild of someone born on the on the island of Ireland on or before 31 December 2004, provided a parent is registered on the Foreign Birth Register before the birth and their own birth is subsequently also registered on the Foreign Birth Register (Department of Foreign Affairs, 2020a; b).

  2. 2.

    Birthright Provision:

    The constitution of Ireland was changed following the Good Friday Agreement in 1998 stating eligibility to Irish citizenship for any person who was born on the island of Ireland (The Belfast Agreement, 1998). This eligibility changed, however, just five years later when it was removed by the 2004 Citizenship Referendum which set out a system whereby a person born on the island of Ireland could only automatically qualify for Irish citizenship if they had an Irish parent who was already a citizen or who met a three-year residency requirement prior to the child’s birth (Wood & Gilmartin, 2018).

5 The ‘Brexit Irish’

Thus far, little has been published academically on the subject of the ‘Brexit Irish’, however, research is taking place; Brexit is a seemingly ever-evolving situation and the machinations of publishing take time. Nevertheless, there are notable exceptions. Patricia Burke Wood and Mary Gilmartin undertook an investigation of Irish identity and citizenship following the Brexit referendum via analysis of media reports, social media and government press releases (Wood & Gilmartin, 2018). Of particular relevance are the two categories of new Irish passport holders that the authors identify (ibid). Firstly, ‘Pragmatic cosmopolitans’ – those who see national identity as fluid, who wish to retain the convenience of a European citizenship ‘in order to facilitate other lifestyle choices’ but make little to no mention of Irishness (ibid:231). The second category ‘Ethnic apologists’ according to the authors, justify their passport or citizenship application by claiming connectivity to Ireland, often referring to their ‘sense of Irishness’ (ibid). The authors continue to discuss these categories in the context of new NI applicants from Unionist backgrounds; people who may be initially perceived as ‘Pragmatic cosmopolitans’ yet far less likely to consider national identity as a fluid conception (Wood & Gilmartin, 2018). This study is interesting and informative, providing two useful categories with which to explain a phenomenon, however having carried out empirical research within this population, I propose that many more motivations and explanations beyond those suggested by Wood and Gilmartin are at play.

In the Irish Times article ‘Are Irish passport applicants in Britain becoming ‘more Irish’?’ Marc Scully considers if those in Britain applying for Irish passports at this time are formalising an existing Irish identity, or undertaking an identity change (Scully, 2018). The article combines a speculative prelude to Scully’s ongoing research into this area, as well as drawing on his extensive previous work on people of Irish descent in Britain (ibid). Scully highlights the complexities around the claiming of a hybrid British / Irish identity and wonders if some of those applying for Irish passports might begin to ‘claim Irishness in certain strands of their lives where they hadn’t before’ (ibid). There are a number of reasons as to why claiming Irishness as a second or third generation person in Britain may be complicated. The behaviour of migrants in a ‘host’ country may be concerned with fitting in, which can lead to the suppression of certain aspects of identity in themselves and their children (Hickman, 1996). In the case of Irish families, parents and grandparents may have felt compelled to encourage their offspring to hide their Irishness in Britain, particularly during periods such as the Troubles (Walter, 2001). Authenticity and the policing of Irishness is also important: what constitutes authentic Irishness outside of Ireland is consistently contested and remade (Scully, 2012). The trope of the ‘Plastic Paddy’ endures, an accusation suggesting a fake or inauthentic claim upon Irishness, usually aimed at someone born outside of Ireland (Walter, 2008; Scully, 2009). Bronwen Walter has written about accents and identity amongst first- and second-generation Irish people in England, demonstrating how some of her respondents felt unwelcome in Ireland with their English-accented Irish identities (Walter, 2008). In some cases, Walter’s interviewees had internalised these feelings, stating that their accents ‘precluded them from claiming an Irish identity’ (Walter, 2008:179). In concluding his article, Scully speaks of the fluidity of Irish identity in Britain and how it is undoubtedly shaped by ‘the broader cultural and socio-political environment’ (Scully, 2018). Scully has since spoken about early responses to his project and whilst cautioning against terming these as findings at that stage, he suggested that the people he had spoken to were in many ways re-evaluating their relationships to Britishness (Scully, 2019).

6 Project and Method

The discussion that follows draws upon a wider research project which considered the experiences and motivations of UK-born people who applied for or were considering applying for an Irish passport following the result of the UK’s 2016 referendum to leave the EU. I undertook fourteen qualitative interviews with fifteen people (the sample included a couple) during June and July 2018; interviews were conducted via video call with the exception of two which took place over email. The interviews were semi-structured, beginning with set questions and ending with open discussion allowing me to go behind the statistics and gain insights into the personal experiences and behaviours of the respondents. I recruited through social media, personal contacts and snowballing via both methods. The respondents had been born in England or NI but were living at the time of the interviews in Scotland, England and the Czech Republic. Participants’ backgrounds and claims to citizenship were diverse, nine had at least one ROI-born parent; one had a ROI-born grandparent. Two had at least one NI-born parent from a Catholic background; two were NI-born from Protestant Unionist backgrounds and one would be eligible if her NI-born British Grandmother would agree to apply for Irish citizenship (she had so far refused). Respondents were aged between twenty and sixty-five, comprising of eight men and six women. Two participants had teenage children for whom they had been going through the passport application process for; they discussed their own experiences, as well as those of their respective children. Pseudonyms have been used throughout this discussion.

The data discussed here derives mostly from participants’ responses to being asked if they felt that they as Irish citizens should be able to vote in Irish politics. Whilst the focus of this chapter is not the participants’ motivations for pursuing an Irish passport, it would be remiss not to give a brief insight into this key information. All of the participants had voted to ‘remain’ and whilst Brexit acted as a catalyst in passport acquisition interviewees often cited additional motivations. Convenience for travel was a consideration, as was a desire to retain European identity; others sought to distance themselves from or rebel against Britishness. Some had held long-term aspirations to possess an Irish passport, but had faced barriers such as financial constraints or the need to engage with estranged family members – in these situations, Brexit came to symbolise a tipping point. Motivations could be complex and overlapping, demonstrating the need to explore beyond the limitations of binary categorizations.

7 External Voting and the ‘Brexit’ Irish

7.1 A Move to Vote?

Overwhelmingly, participants did not feel that they should have the right to vote in Irish elections, with only one respondent – Jamie – feeling that it would be appropriate. Jamie lived in London at the time of the interview, having grown up in northern England. His claim to Irish citizenship was through his Irish father who had moved to England from NI as a child, however, Jamie was yet to visit the Island of Ireland. Politically knowledgeable and a supporter of the EU, Jamie’s belief that he should have the right to vote appears framed by his intention to move to the ROI in the future:

Er yes, I believe so. I mean at some point I do intend on living there, so when I do, I will be able to, obviously after a period of time… –Jamie

Throughout our conversation, Jamie positioned Ireland as “moving forward” and the UK as “regressing”, citing the recent referendums in Ireland as socially positive moves and Brexit as a backward step. His motivation to apply for an Irish passport was to retain the freedoms that EU citizenship had afforded him, and he felt that his “liberal kind of open beliefs” were more “embodied in Ireland” than they were in England.

The narrative of Ireland as progressive and ‘Brexit Britain’ as backward was a common thread across the participants many of whom, to varying degrees of seriousness were considering a move to Ireland. Discussion of political rights often led directly into this, with participants pointing out that whilst they didn’t agree with external voting, they felt very strongly that if they moved to Ireland, they should have a right to vote. Alan, in his late thirties presented an alternative view, telling me that watching the Repeal the 8th Referendum play out a month earlier had made him want to take an active role in Irish citizenship:

So, almost the very fact that I can’t vote, that I can’t engage actively as a citizen and engage in Irish politics has made me think “maybe we should move there!” so I can. –Alan

I explored earlier the suggestion that non-resident voting for the emigrant generation may be a factor in return migration, so it is intriguing therefore that for Alan, a third-generation Irish citizen not having a vote may motivate a move to Ireland. Alan’s eligibility for Irish citizenship came via his estranged maternal grandfather and he didn’t grow up with a connection to Ireland. His initial rationale for acquiring Irish citizenship was to distance himself from Britain following the 2015 Conservative-won election and Brexit in addition to the retention of European rights. As Alan and his mother navigated the “tricky” bureaucratic process of locating documents, he became aware of unknown family members and became interested in finding out more about where his grandfather was from. Alan’s desire to leave the UK after Brexit was not, as noted earlier, a unique standpoint: perhaps Alan’s decreasing satisfaction with Britain and increasing connection to Ireland drew him to feel he could move to a country and make a difference.

7.2 Connections/Disconnections

Edie, a student in her early twenties, claimed Irish citizenship through her ROI-born mother who had moved to England with her parents. She told me she had always wanted to describe herself as Irish, declaring that having the passport meant that she could do that “officially”. Despite this, Edie said she would be reluctant to identify herself as Irish to an Irish-born person on the basis that they might find it “annoying” or “superficial”, particularly because she has an English accent. She didn’t think that she should have the right to vote in Irish elections, telling me:

Look I know I’m not fully Irish, and I know that some people might be offended potentially or a bit iffy –Edie

Throughout the interview, Edie expressed feelings and beliefs which, as previously referenced, are commonly reported in research on second-generation Irish people in Britain – contested claims on Irishness; an English accent as a barrier to claiming Irish identity; a perception that ‘real’ Irish people may be irritated by identity claims from those born outside of the state. If Edie is uncomfortable claiming Irish identity, it’s unsurprising that she would also feel uncomfortable claiming a political stake in Ireland.

Another participant who expressed discomfort with claiming Irish identity, albeit to a greater extent than Edie, was Stephanie. Stephanie was born and raised in London by her Irish parents. In her late twenties, she had spent the last decade living in Scotland. Stephanie had wanted to apply for an Irish passport for some time having felt that in some countries an Irish passport might be more welcome than a British one. Stephanie described herself as being “of Irish heritage”, as opposed to “Irish - because it would be a bit disingenuous”, explaining that this was mainly because her parents had always told her that she was English:

Like, not in a mean way…. [laughing] but, they just they didn’t want me to be like, I dunno, I think – you know when you see some people, some children of Irish immigrants and they cling onto it so much that it becomes a kind of bastardization of what it actually is, we particularly had some relatives in America who were a bit like that, and I think they just found that a bit like hard erm to see so I think they were just a bit wary of that happening to us… –Stephanie

Stephanie didn’t feel that she should have an entitlement to vote in Irish elections, but observed that current rules excluded emigrants, which she disagreed with, stating that she felt her mother would probably vote if she had the opportunity.

That Stephanie and Edie feel reluctant to vote could be a demonstration of interest in the ‘home’ country dissipating across generations and time (Fitzgerald, 2006). However, that they have both perceived and experienced policing and suppression of Irish identity could be significant in the shaping of their external voting opinions.

Concealment of Irishness was also raised by Nathan, a second-generation Irish citizen living in the Czech Republic. Both of his parents were Irish, having met in the Birmingham dance halls during the 1970s where they initially found it easy to integrate. However, following the Birmingham IRA bombings and experiencing local hostility, his parents decided to assimilate, becoming “more English than the English”. Behind closed doors, he said that his parents told stories, talked about Ireland and took him there for childhood holidays, but that:

Like a lot of people in Britain, a lot of people in the West Midlands do, I felt disconnected –Nathan

Nathan said that he was developing more of an Irish connection and that like Alan and Jamie, was considering moving to Ireland. He stated that with regards to voting, it was easy for him to have opinions from the outside, but that he had far less of an understanding of Ireland than he would like to if he were to be casting a vote.

7.3 Reluctant to Influence

A reluctance to affect the lives of people living in a different country was emphasized by almost all of the respondents. Grace, who had grown up in London with her Irish mother and English father the found the idea of voting in Irish elections odd:

I would feel strange about having an influence on the lives of people whose daily experience I do not share… I would no more think about remotely influencing the outcomes for Irish people than I would any other country –Grace

Grace’s views were echoed by Linda, who additionally referenced a lack of a shared experience as a mark against external voting:

I haven’t had to grow up in that society or struggle for the right to abortion or you know, all those, even contraception, all those things that women there have had to fight for, I haven’t had to fight for that yet, maybe in the future we will, but right now… –Linda

Dermot, a father of two teenagers from Yorkshire initially felt quite strongly against having an external vote in Irish elections:

I don’t think you have the right to influence where other people live if you don’t have any vested interest in it and, it just feels a bit weird, I’d be perfectly happy not to vote in Ireland because I don’t live there. –Dermot

However, later in the interview Dermot wondered about these feelings in the context of his personal situation:

If I was living in Ireland and my kids were here [England] and the government were about to do something really bad here and I could come back to vote, I probably would but it wouldn’t make a difference. A little bit I want my cake and eat it there. –Dermot

As indicated in the overview of the project, all of the participants had been ‘remain’ voters who disagreed wholeheartedly with Brexit. Two years after the referendum they were still unsettled, angry and hurt by a decision they felt had been imposed upon them. In this context, it might be a natural reaction for those respondents to view external voting as a problematic situation. Regardless of the accuracy of this assumption, it appears clear that participants often felt disconnected from ‘home’ citizens and didn’t feel part of Irish citizenship as a whole.

7.4 Northern Ireland

A third of respondents were either from NI or descended from a NI person. Two participants, Peter and Geoffrey came from Protestant Unionist backgrounds and were now living in south-east Scotland and southern England respectively. Peter, in his late thirties, viewed his Irish citizenship acquisition from a purely practical standpoint, aligning with Wood and Gilmartin’s description of NI Unionist applicants - ‘pragmatic cosmopolitans’ who did not subscribe to identity as fluid (Wood & Gilmartin, 2018). Peter described himself as British and did not feel he should vote in Irish elections.

Geoffrey, who was about thirty years older than Peter, came from a similar background but told me that having had republican and socialist sympathies, he’d felt out step with his community. Geoffrey described his motivations as “partly emotional and partly practical” – a desire to retain the ability to live in any European country and to reject what he saw as the ‘parochial bigotry’ of the Brexit campaign. He felt voting should be limited to people who live in Ireland; pay tax; or ‘have some skin in the game’. Geoffrey differentiated between residents and taxpayers, which was an alternate view to other participants who strongly linked taxation and political representation. He also stated that he hadn’t “invested” in his “new Irishness yet”, suggesting that there may be a point in the future where he might feel comfortable holding an external vote.

Ryan, thirty-five, told me that he’d been brought up in a “really Irish kind of family”, in an area of northwest England “where most people are of Irish descent”. As a child he frequently spent holidays in Co. Derry where his father was from. When asked about voting, Ryan told me that it had only recently occurred to him that members of his family in Co. Derry didn’t have the right to vote in the ROI:

Errm, well I thought about it recently because of the abortion vote and then that’s when I realised that even the Northern Irish didn’t get a vote in that.

I don’t live there, I don’t really know anything about Irish politics, ‘cos even my family are from Northern Ireland so it’s different. Anyway. –Ryan

Ryan’s position is layered; on the one hand he identified as a second-generation Irish person living in England, yet his father, who he viewed as an Irish emigrant was at no point in his life entitled to a vote, even when he was living on the island of Ireland. The distance between Ryan and a stake in Irish politics appeared significant, as did the distance between himself and the ROI. These may be contributory factors in why Ryan felt that having a vote in Irish elections was unimportant.

8 Conclusion

It is apparent, with the exception of Jamie, that the cohort felt to varying degrees that they, as external citizens should not have the right to vote in Irish elections. This may be reassuring information for those reluctant to extend the franchise, and for some it might seem a logical consequence of perceived pragmatic moves to preserve European rights, as demonstrated by Peter. However, my research has demonstrated that in addition to a multitude of motives driving Irish passport and citizenship applications, the views of participants on external voting may also reflect a disconnection from Ireland, be that through estranged family, suppression of an Irish identity, the policing of Irishness and the ambiguity of Irish citizens of NI.

Undertaking the research so soon after the Brexit referendum meant that most of the respondents were only recent holders of Irish citizenship and it felt to me that each of the respondents were only just beginning to make sense of what this meant for them and their own identity. In light of this, it would be fascinating to revisit their lives now, over two years later to canvass their opinions in a post Brexit-world.

It will be interesting to see if and how the intentions set in the Irish Government’s 2020 Diaspora Strategy develop, however, I believe, in the case of the ‘Brexit Irish’ who took part in this study, that using Presidential external voting rights to connect the state with the diaspora might be bypassing a vital step in the process – that to be interested in voting, external citizens may first need to feel connected to, and a part of, Ireland.