Everyone is talking about the Irish Border, now it talks back: „I’m beautiful and want to be left as I am now“

The Irish Border is the elephant in the Brexit negotiations, everyone is talking about it, now it talks back. With 40.000 followers on Twitter, the Irish Border finally makes itself heard and says: «I never wanted to be involved in this and I want to be left as I am now.»

Dear Irish Border, when talking about Brexit you are considered the biggest problem in the whole mess. How does that make you feel? 

A bit embarrassed. I never wanted to be involved in this. I had retired and was enjoying the antics of the sheep and observing the movement of the clouds for the last 20 years and letting everyone pass over me without remembering I was there. And then Brexit came along and there were journalists everywhere looking for me and politicians talking ill-informed rubbish about it, so I thought it was time to take to twitter and express myself. I hope I can go back to semi-retirement after this fiasco.

So now time presses and there is no real solution in sight for keeping you open, what would be your advice? How would you like to be treated?

I want to be left as I am now – invisible but present, unobstrusive. I want to be constitutionally in existence but physically absent. It’s a fine balance and can only be achieved by hard-work and by intelligent politicians – it can be destroyed by morons and populists and that’s what’s happening now. I’d like to be treated like an aged uncle who has fallen asleep in the corner of the room after a big lunch and is snoring gently and whose family put up with him enough not to wake him up.

Okay, but now to the hard facts. At the moment there is no solution in sight. Honestly speaking, what do you think will happen to you on March 29^th next year, the d-day for the Brexit?

I have no idea. Isn’t that what’s so terrifying? Six months from now and no one knows what will happen. Imagine how upsetting that is for everyone living around here – not knowing is what’s frightening. Everyone likes to guess what is going to happen and it changes every day, sways to and fro like long grass on a blustery day. Some days I think it will be a nice soft border and that Mrs May will fudge her way through it and cajole the UK into a Brexit that isn’t Brexit, and then on others days I think it will be like the end of the world.

And what would you say – how could you be kept open?

The UK remain in the EU. The UK could leave the EU and agree to the backstop. Someone could invent an invisible robotic border guard with a pleasant temperament, an ability for charming verbosity, and an over-active Twitter account – but they could just keep me and have the much less expensively and right now.

You were born in 1921 – if I am right – and lived through pretty hard times with violence and all. What are your worst memories? And how’s life since the 1998 Good Friday Agreement?

My worst memories are the worst memories that anyone could have. Division, misery, pain, murder, grief, poverty, hopelessness. Before the Good Friday Agreement I remember the customs posts, though the Brexiters seem to forget them. Life since then has been getting peachy – I divested myself of the infrastructure and took life easy – the flowers came out, the birds sang, the people started talking to each other again. It has been perpetual spring since 1998. Well, that’s not quite true, but things have been slowly getting better.

You are around 500 km long and you experienced it in the past – so what’s your actual problem with having a little bit of let’s say control infrastructure planted on you? Is that really such a big thing?

It’s a big thing. It’s real and symbolic. Here’s a thing. The Good Friday Agreement was a recognition of nationalism in Northern Ireland, and the disappearance of a physical border parallels the recognition of the parity of esteem of identities of nationalism and unionism. Re-imposing a border, not matter if it’s an iBorder or a big macho border, diminishes that parity of esteem.

Has anyone of the majorly involved ever asked you how you feel about all this, I mean Juncker, Tusk, Barnier on the one side and May, Johnson or Davis – did they ever visit you and have a cup of tea or a pint with you?

People assume they know how I feel. That’s why I started the Twitter account. Mr Barnier has been a few times and he’s very nice. David came once and he stayed for a few minutes with his hands in his pockets and stared into my abyss. He was quite frightened by what he saw. In fact, he resigned from government not long after that.

Aren’t you a little bit disappointed maybe by the Labour Party and their leader Jeremy Corbyn, too? I mean, clear statements haven’t been heard from that side either …

A little! He’s a Brexiter. He spoofs on the same way as a Tory Brexiter about keeping me open, but everyone says that. He has no viable ideas about how to do so. Yes, I’m disappointed. In fact, I’m very pissed off by his lack pot policies.

On the day of the Brexit vote, did you already have a sense of that there is trouble brewing for you?

Yes. And before that too, but no one would listen.

How do you see yourself in ten years?

Probably in an underground museum that runs the entire length of me.

Would you recommend people to come and visit you, why?

Yes. I’m beautiful. The people who live near me are kind, funny and quirky. The food is good. Even the sheep are amusing. You can talk to my friend. Jean. She’s a philosopher. Come to visit me and you will leave enlightened, refreshed and a better person.