Was Ireland’s reputation as a tiny diplomatic superpower just a flash in the pan fantasy?

Foreign media is flooded with criticism for the country that used to ‘get its way’

When the British establishment looks on and sees an unprotected island with Russian ships hovering nearby it feels not just anxious, on behalf of all of Europe’s security, but genuine head-in-hand despairing frustration.Photograph: Alexander Kazakov/AFP/Getty
When the British establishment looks on and sees an unprotected island with Russian ships hovering nearby it feels not just anxious, on behalf of all of Europe’s security, but genuine head-in-hand despairing frustration.Photograph: Alexander Kazakov/AFP/Getty

Only five and a half years ago The Economist declared Ireland the world’s tiniest superpower. Now foreign media is flooded with criticism for the country that used to “get its way”. And not just from the usual suspects in The Telegraph and The Spectator, but from The Wall Street Journal and the Financial Times. How did Ireland – if you will permit me this winsome neologism – lose its rizz?

In answering the question it is important to avoid recency bias. By the time of the Herzog Park debacle, Ireland had already cemented its reputation in the UK, at least, for widespread tolerance of anti-Semitism. Whether you think that charge is fair is of secondary importance. The facts are this: British commentary did not react to Herzog Park with shock (outrage, yes) but with eye-rolling. “Oh but of course – that’s Ireland for you … ”

Take the words of Libby Purves in The Times of London – which is hardly a hostile entity to the Irish State. On Herzog Park, she resignedly said: “Ireland in general is better than this.” But only after enumerating all the incidents she has observed that made it unremarkable and unsurprising: when Michael D Higgins used Holocaust Memorial Day to talk about Gaza; the fact that anti-Zionists wear T-shirts that say “Paddystinian” on them; that “half of Irish Christians surveyed think Irish Jews give their first loyalty to Israel.”

These things taken in isolation may feel small fry on an international stage. And some are. But the picture comes into focus pretty fast. Ireland pulling out of Eurovision in protest at Israel’s inclusion? Well who is surprised about that, because was our entry the year before not Bambie Thug, who stood on stage in a tricolour, with pro-Palestinian statements on her body written in Ogham?

And, it’s not just Purves watching. Camilla Long in the same paper said Ireland’s decision, like Spain’s, was easily predicted: Ireland, “where ten days ago Bob Vylan, men so talentless they had to steal the name of the world’s most famous Jew just to sell tickets, were given a hero’s welcome by Sinn Féin”. Bob Vylan, for a refresh, are the duo who became the story of Glastonbury this year, when they chanted “Death to the IDF.”

I am making this case as dispassionately as possible, because the evidence taken in sum probably speaks for itself. It has certainly convinced two UK-based journalists at a fairly moderate paper to allege that Ireland has a problem in its relationship with Israel. Anecdotally, I can tell you it has convinced a lot more than that.

But this is not the sole cause – or not even the primary one – for Ireland’s changing reputation. It is the far knottier problem of Irish neutrality that grates in other parts; the sort of thing that brings the level heads at the Financial Times out to wonder whether Ireland’s current militaristic arrangement is really good enough at all.

The deep spiritual feelings Vladimir Putin has about “greater Russia” – the full extent of his expansionist ambitions, his motivations – are understood in the UK. Perhaps not so much in Washington. But there are concerns they are far less well understood in Ireland. And so when the British establishment looks on and sees an unprotected island with Russian ships hovering nearby it feels not just anxious, on behalf of all of Europe’s security, but genuine head-in-hand despairing frustration. While we have self-important debates about the triple lock, Putin is winning an attritional war that plenty of people do not think will stop at Ukraine.

What would happen if Russians landed at Shannon and took over the airport?Opens in new window ]

Take these two factors, and apply them to an Ireland in 2020 that was riding high on praise; when it was the plucky rich country that played Europe and the Tories with enviable diplomatic agility. Two events had yet to occur then: Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, and October 7th and the following war in Gaza. Both revealed Ireland somewhere at odds with British attitudes. No one in Westminster was thinking long and hard about Ireland’s military policy before a war erupted in Europe. No one at The Times of London was considering Ireland’s relationship with Israel before Israel/Palestine became multiyear headline news.

And so, feelings about the country adjusted accordingly. Nothing like that Economist piece would be written now. It is true that our international stock is down. The question now is whether that matters; whether that matters more than long-held policy commitments and general sentimentality; and to work out how significant of a priority it is in Government Buildings and on the diplomatic circuit to try to reverse the development, if at all.

‘Stop blaming the Brits’: United Ireland would pose threat to Britain from Russia, says ex-Nato commanderOpens in new window ]

The first day of 2026 seems to be a good time to look inward and accept that Ireland “the world’s tiniest diplomatic superpower” was a flash in the pan fantasy. Or, perhaps to not be so defeatist: it’s no fantasy; but it will take some serious tweaking to make it a permanent reality.