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The Screaming Twenties: How Elite Overproduction May Lead to a Decade of Discord in the United States

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Fighting was common in Congress in the Antebellum United States. Congressmen frequently brawled and dueled one another, and some openly carried knives and pistols.
Photo Credit: US Library of Congress

One of the great stories about the United States in recent years has been the rise of political polarisation and instability. Though the growing strife at the heart of the nation has been in the making for decades, the last year alone has seen the Covid Crisis, the death of George Floyd and the subsequent Black Lives Matter movement, as well as an election process that climaxed with the storming of the U.S Capitol Building. To any observer, it is apparent that these events have continued to exacerbate cleavages in American political life, and it seems that such divides will not be bridged anytime soon. The great fear is that US in the 21st Century may be facing a period of political instability, competing radical ideologies and ever-widening inequality. The last century in the US saw a post-World War One resurgence in the Roaring of the 1920s- will the 2020s in contrast see us dragged Screaming through the decade?

The United States is not alone in facing this problem. France has faced nationwide protests since 2018 with the gilets jaune movement, whilst the United Kingdom faced political paralysis and partisan infighting with the Brexit referendum (while Northern Ireland faced some of the worst riots its seen in years  in part due to the Irish Sea Border).  Many hypotheses have been put forward about the source of the discontent that has been rising in the United States and the rest of the Western world.  Yet no theorisation, I believe, can claim to be as unique or intriguing as that of elite overproduction, and there is reason to believe that the 2020s will continue to see increasing political instability because of it.

Peter Turchin, whose work has been gaining increased recognition as of late, uses Structural Demographic Theory alongside a way of studying the long-term dynamics that create conditions for political stability, and in turn, political disintegration, and uses this to analyse history. Turchin proposes that all structural-demographic variables that influence the (in)stability of a given society are encompassed within three forces: the population, the state, and the elites (with each of these categories subject to change in response to structural shifts).

The main components of Structural-Demographic Theory. Photo Credit: Peter Turchin

Though there is more to this theory that can be outlined here (if interested, Turchin’s Ages of Discord and blog come highly recommended), what is perhaps most compelling are the dynamics of intra-elite warfare, caused by what Turchin dubs elite overproduction.

Who are the elites? It is not just the capitalist class as such, but also lawyers, professionals, journalists, and cultural figures. These are the most highly vaunted positions within society that aspiring elites seek to enter in order to move up the social ladder. Yet what happens when the numbers of the elite and those who wish to enter the elite classes become too high for the society to adequately accommodate? This is what is known as elite overproduction.

When there is an oversupply of elites and elite aspirants, this creates the conditions for elite overproduction. Elite overproduction is usually created and influenced by factors such as labour oversupply which leads to increased competition for resources and jobs), popular immiseration, and declining living standards thus further swelling the ranks of elite aspirants seeking to work their way into the elite classes in order to secure a future for themselves,  as well as the revenues of the state and its ability to absorb these candidates. The result of these factors can be an increasingly large class of elite aspirants who find themselves spurned, a government and society that hasn’t the capacity to absorb them, as well as an elite class that benefits from these conditions and will often go to great lengths to protect their position.

Elite Overproduction mapped against popular well-being in the US. Image Credit: Peter Turchin

So where can we see elite overproduction? Turchin uses the case of Law graduates in the United States, as well as US wealth inequality as measurements of this phenomenon. Law happens to be one of the most popular degrees chosen by those wishing to enter politics, and is seen by aspiring elites as a way to attain professional prestige.  Yet the value of a Law degree is relative and is not above the laws of supply and demand. Of those graduating in 2015, only 63% of law graduates entered jobs that required the bar, and as of July 2020, those who majored in Criminal Justice had an underemployment rate of 73% ( meaning they are working jobs that don’t utilise their skills and are unable to work the hours they’d wish to).

Whilst it is certainly true that not all those that graduate in Law intend to practice it, there is a great deal of evidence to suggest that a large surplus of Law graduates is created in the U.S every year- a problem that is only compounded by the large student debt that they are left with, as well as the high hopes that many had for themselves. And this is only looking at Law graduates in the US. In the UK for example, nearly one-third of graduates were underemployed pre-Covid, and this likely to be much higher in the near future with the added complications of the Covid Crisis and the recession that followed it. When this is combined with declining living standards and anemic economic growth, you will see the creation of a class of embittered and scorned counter-elites, who hopes to join the elite classes has transmuted into resentment against them. It was understanding this frustration that led to the rise of politicians like Bernie Sanders and Jeremy Corbyn, who capitalised on the anger of many elite aspirants in the U.S and the U.K respectively.

Yet elite overproduction is not just about the elite rejects per se, but also about conflict amongst the elites themselves. It is no secret that wealth inequality has been on the increase for decades, leading to vast wealth gains not only amongst the economic hyper-elite, but also creating a proliferation in the number of millionaires within the US. What is perhaps less well understood is the effect this has on inter-elite dynamics. Wealthier citizens are typically more politically engaged than the rest of the populace and may even run for office themselves. Yet the supply of political offices to pursue within the United States has largely remained flat. For example, the number of congressional seats has remained at  435 since 1913, whilst the supply of those seeking political influence and potential candidates only continues to rise.  Elite overproduction can therefore even lead to a kind of elite class warfare, where the elites who feel themselves to left out of power and influence begin to fight those who they see as standing in their way, and the elite class itself begins to fracture under such conditions.

So how do elites react to these circumstances, and how does it lead to further political destabilisation? Turchin argues that there are essentially three cardinal sins that the elites often make in these conditions. Firstly, when there is a labour oversupply, the elite classes stand to benefit most from this as they are frequently the beneficiaries of cheaper labour and may even promote mass immigration for this very reason, and thus inequality begins to sky-rocket. Secondly, in an attempt to make their own positions more secure, they raise the bar to elite entry, kicking the ladder away from their would-be competitors and securing not only their own position but also that of their offspring, who will benefit from their built-up economic and social resources and stand a better chance of circumventing the obstacles they have raised. Lastly, the top earners of the society will often do anything to resist taxation and to maintain their own wealth at the expense of public spending – which leads to a dysfunctional and indebted state that people begin to lose faith in and respect for. Fundamentally, these elites stand to gain from the status quo, and many of them would rather defend their privileges than reform the system for the betterment of their country. This is a failing that does not go unnoticed. As Turchin writes, ‘Such selfish elites lead the way to revolutions’.

So what happens when the established elites and the counter-elites (both the spurned elite-aspirants as well as the excluded, competing elites) clash?. The elites who seek to maintain their own positions end up fighting amongst themselves over power and begin to fragment as a result, and they also face the embittered counter-elites that seek reform (and even revenge). The resulting situation is an increasingly unstable society in which the elites themselves attempt to hold onto their privileges at all costs against their competitors, whilst the counter-elites, who view themselves as having been betrayed by the status quo, fight to change this situation and seek the recruit some of the aggrieved population to join their cause. The political situation in such a society sees a breakdown in cooperation in the elite classes as they squabble over power, the breaking of acceptable norms as the fighting becomes more vicious, and an increasing amount of political instability and violence. With the events of 2020 still fresh in our memories, one cannot help but see some truth in this analysis. But what is concerning is that, as seen in the graphs above, is that the events of 2020 may not, in fact, be an aberration. Instead, 2020 may be a particularly memorable representative of a wider trend. As popular immiseration only deepens, as government debt only increases, and as elite overproduction shows no meaningful signs of slowing down,  2020 may have only been a warm-up for what is coming next.

So, what does this mean for the next decade? Though there seems to have been some stability restored to American politics with the election of Joe Biden, one would have to be very optimistic that the political polarisation and increasing levels of violence and protest in the United States are gone for good. Some 45% of Republicans according to one poll actually supported the actions of the Capitol Hill rioters, and some 68% didn’t consider it a threat to democracy- a worrying sign that extreme action is becoming increasingly acceptable in some quarters of American politics. Though the Democratic party controls both legislative chambers in Congress, their majorities are slim, and will likely require a great deal of political skill from Joe Biden to pass even the most modest legislation, never mind offering up bold solutions to America’s woes. It is highly unlikely that the increasing levels of polarisation and instability that 2020 seemed to typify are going anywhere anytime soon.

What the work done by Turchin seems to suggest is that the next decade is likely going to see an exacerbation of the trends that led America down its path to instability, and the 2020s may well be a decade of discord for the U.S.  The real question at this point is not a case of whether unrest and instability will unfold, but rather how serious will it get? If reform is not taken and cooperation continues to break down among the elites, the next decade may be Screaming rather than Roaring. Though it is not impossible for these trends to be effectively challenged and reversed, it would require a certain degree of unity and purpose amongst American elites to take the necessary actions, and it is this unity and leadership that America has been sorely lacking. Perhaps an understanding of just how dangerous the situation is and may become could change this. Time will tell.

Disinherited and Dispossessed: Relative Deprivation and the Rise of the Far-Right in the U.S.A

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By Gideon Jones

Pixabay/Geralt, 2021.

The unforgettable images of a mob of Trump supporters invading the United States Capitol in January 2021 caused widespread horror and repulsion. Since then, there has been a scramble to explain the sieges’ immediate causes and its participants motivations. Undeniably behind each of these is the rise of the Far-Right in the United States. 

So, who do we mean when we talk about the Far-Right? To define the Far-Right is no small feat, but at its most basic it can be thought of as an umbrella term for the Radical and extremist Right. Though the two are related, they are by no means the same. 

For our purposes, it will be most useful to think about the Radical-Right as being defined by ‘ethno-nationalist xenophobia and anti-establishment populism’, as well as nativism, extreme-nationalism and authoritarianism. What differentiates the Extremist-right from the Radical-Right are their attitudes towards democracy and violence: generally speaking, we can view the radical-right as being willing to operate within the democratic system, whilst the Extreme-Right reject the democratic process and are more likely to undertake violence as a means of achieving their political aims. The great fear about the Capitol Siege was that the MAGA movement , being a Radical-Right grouping , was seeming to shift towards Extremist-Right methods to pursue their political ambitions.

Though there has been a great deal of theorising about the ascendance of the Radical and Extremist-right within the United States, one concept that has received little attention is relative deprivation. 

Though there have been attempts to link a rise in extremism to absolute deprivation, the results have been mixed at best. For example, it is well established that a university degree and economic security are no barriers to radicalisation and extremism. 

However, the same cannot be said of relative deprivation. So, what is Relative Deprivation, and what role does it play in fuelling radical and extremist-right movements? 

Relative deprivation, contrary to absolute deprivation, is not necessarily based upon one’s objective socio-economic position within society. One can feasibly be relatively well off and still feel deprived. As the psychologists Kunst and Obaidi argue, since humans ascertain their position in society through comparing themselves to one another, and ‘relative deprivation involves the perception that oneself or one’s group does not receive valued resources, goals, ways or standards of living, which others possess and one feels entitled to’. This is what we need to understand when we begin to think about the rise of Far-Right in the United States – many Americans are feeling that their communities are worse off now relative to the past, that they have been robbed of what they considered to be theirs and are looking for someone to blame. 

This can have some interesting implications when applied to the rise of the Far-Right in the United States. One theory behind the rise of Trump, and the Far-Right more generally, was the ‘left behind’ thesis: that it was those who were feeling the greatest level of economic hardship that fuelled his ascendancy to the presidency and made up the bulk of the MAGA movement. Whilst it has been observed that upward mobility was low and life expectancy was shorter in areas that leaned most towards Trump, there are several issues with this explanation. Firstly, when Trump won the 2016 election  the United States was in the middle of an economic recovery, and manufacturing jobs were on the rise . Secondly, Trump supporters were generally not poor. In 2016, roughly two thirds of his supporter base had an average household income of above $50,000. Whilst economic factors undoubtedly played a role in the rise of the MAGA movement, the picture is more complicated than expected, and something more is needed to explain the populist rage that fuelled Trump’s rise in 2016 and which sustains the Far-Right today.

This is where relative deprivation enters the picture. The rise of the Far-Right was not about deprivation per se, but the perception that many in White America felt deprived relative to others, and thus that their status was diminished. This is especially true of White Supremacist organisations in the United States, who view the country as uniquely ‘theirs’. White America felt that for much of the United States’ history they had been justly dominant, and that this was something that should continue. With America’s growing racial diversity and the continued effects of globalisation, many white Americans felt, and feel, ‘ under siege by these engines of change’ . Understanding this, it is unsurprising that these anxieties and their political expression are finding increasing mainstream support, with many feeling that that their communities will face utter marginalisation unless the hierarchies of the past are re-established. 

This feeling is no doubt partially responsible for the rise of the populist MAGA movement- that the elites, illegal immigrants, liberals and many more were to be held responsible for their plight, and to be opposed in order to ‘make America great again’. Far more concerning is the rise of those that are willing to attack the groups and forces that they see as taking away what they see as their rightful position in society. Events like Charlottesville and the Capitol Siege are now part of a worrying trend of Extreme-Right violence in the United States.

The rise of xenophobic, anti-establishment, and discriminatory politics is the end product of this anxiety, and like Donald Trump, it is unlikely to go away anytime soon. It may in fact become worse over time as the anxiety of white America only increases and the winds of change continue to blow.

Whether the narratives provided by the various Far-Right groups in the United States are factual or not is of little importance to their continued rise. They offer a narrative to explain world change, to frame and understand one’s anxieties and to offer a remedy. The great failure of modern liberal politics (in the US and beyond), as many are increasingly coming to realise, is that it’s narratives about the world have been ringing more and more hollow . To fail to tackle this fear head on, or to even mock it, is to allow it to grow ever more rampant, and allow extremism in the United States to grow.

The Capitol Siege should be a wake-up call to liberals the world over. There needs to be a counter-narrative, an equally compelling story that can be told that doesn’t lead people down the paths of racism, xenophobia, and violence. With the election of Joe Biden and the return of business-as-usual politics to Washington D.C, there is a fear that nothing will fundamentally change, on both the left and the right. If nothing is done to address these underlying anxieties, the worst may still be yet to come. Instead of denouncing the far-right’s supporters as being morally beyond the pale, more should be done to understand why people would even support that kind of politics in the first place.

 

Gideon Jones is a MA student in Terrorism, Security & Society at the War Studies Department, King’s College London, and completed his BA in History at the University of Warwick. Coming from Northern Ireland, he has been brought up in a country scarred by the issues of terrorism, conflict, sectarianism, and extremist ideology. Through this experience, he has been given valuable insight into how the legacies of such problems can continue to divide a society decades after the fighting has stopped, and how the issues left unresolved can threaten to upend a fragile peace. Gideon is a Staff Writer at Strife.

Modernity and the Long Peace: Has the World Seen a Decline in War?

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By Gideon Jones

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, ‘The Triumph of Death’ (c. 1562)

Has the world become more peaceful?

One would think that such a question would be easily answered. On an intuitive level, many people in the West would feel that this is the case: to them, war is something that exists in far distant places and is seen only on high-resolution screens. It’s absence has become so pronounced that some have claimed we are living in a Long Peace, the period from the end of the Second World War until today that has seen a fall in the frequency of major wars, and has led to a period of unparalleled human prosperity.  However, this answer, and the preceding question is seductively simple, and when investigated, a far more complicated image begins to emerge. 

The argument that the world has become more peaceful (and less violent in general) was perhaps most famously made by Steven Pinker. Pinker’s 2011 book, The Better Angels of Our Nature, made a celebratory case about modernity, that in spite of the horrors of the 20th Century, war and violence in human society have been on a decline that has been ongoing over centuries. And there is plenty of data to back up this claim. Just a cursory glance at ‘The Visual History of Decreasing War and Violence’ highlights reductions in our rates of violent death, whether related to murder or the lethality of war. For example Western Europe was thought to have a violent death rate at around 2% of the entire population in the 17th Century, whilst between 1900-1960, the violent death rate in Europe and North America lay at 1%.It is not without cause that Pinker feels confident in proclaiming that ‘we may be living in one of the most peaceful eras in our species’ existence’. 

The reasons for this apparent decline are manifold, but Pinker’s central claim is that humanity has gradually been able to gain greater control over our inner demons. The classic view of human nature is that Humanity has and always will be prone to violence, and that since war is an expression of that violent tendency, it is here to stay. He claims human nature itself, while containing the potential for violence and cruelty, isn’t static, but is itself influenced by the environment, and that the systems and institutions of modernity (be it participative democracy or free market capitalism) promote less violent and more cooperative behaviour. When humanity developed means to trade peacefully with one another and developed ways of managing relations without recourse to war, more cooperative behaviours were selected for, as opposed to violent ones.  Furthermore, Pinker claims that it’s our reason that lies at the basis of much of this change, and that ‘just as our species has applied its cognitive powers to ward off the scourges of pestilence and famine, so it can apply them to manage the scourge of war’. Though war and our impulses to wage it may never be eradicated, there may be reason to believe that we may be slowly turning a new leaf. 

This decline of war thesis is a celebration of modernity. Though we are frequently inundated with the problems of the world in our news media, those proposing this thesis reassure us, showing us that we have in fact progressed, and we have modernity to thank.

However, while the narrative of the decline in war and violence is as attractive as it is persuasive, it only represents half of the argument. Others have argued that such progress is an illusion, and that the idea that we have morally advanced is little more than wishful thinking. 

Bear F. Braumoeller, a statistician and political scientist, argues that the idea that the data shows a decline in violence is questionable at best. In his book, Only the Dead, Braumoeller firstly disagrees with the thesis that war between states has become less frequent. He argues that when one looks rate of conflict initiation in the Cold War- during the so called Long Peace– we see ‘one of the most warlike periods of the last 200 years outside the two world wars’. Though a ‘hot’ war between the USA and the USSR thankfully never broke out, that did not mean that violent conflicts were not fought elsewhere.

What about the claim that war has become less deadly? Once again, it depends on how the data is interpreted. Though there is an observable decline in the death rate per 100,000, this may as much be a product of the fact that our societies are larger. The anthropologists Dean Falk and Charles Hildebolt argued in a paper that though a higher ratio of any given society will tend to die in conflict the smaller the society is, ‘the actual number of war deaths increases with growing population sizes’. If human societies had gotten more peaceful as time had gone on, this relationship should not exist. 

This is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to criticising the statistical basis of the Long Peace thesis. To Nassim Taleb and Pasquale Cirillo, the greatest weakness of the decline of war theory not just a chronic underestimation of deaths from violent conflict, but also looking at the mean whilst ignoring low probability, high impact events like a world war. 

When this is taken into mind, the peace that the world has experienced from the end of the Second World War (between the great powers at least) begins to look very different. Though there have been times and places in history where peace did for the most part exist- be it Augustus’ Pax Romana or the Congress System in Europe where major conflicts were prevented and relations were managed- they inevitably ended in major conflict.  The difference between then and now is of course our technology, with 14,000 nuclear weapons existing today, which are more powerful than the ones which existed in the Cold War. The point here is to suggest that an armed conflict between the world’s major powers, whilst unlikely, is by no means impossible, and such a war would undoubtedly be one of extreme death and violence. To quote Taleb and Cirillo, it is nonsensical ‘to say that violence has dropped but maybe not the risk of tail events’– in that case, the Long Peace is not evidence of humanity’s newfound pacifism, but is instead merely an interlude between one great conflict and the next. 

So why does this debate matter? 

On New Year’s Eve 2019, it looked as if 2020 was going to be the same as any other year. Yet it wasn’t. Instead, the world faced a global pandemic- a supposedly low probability, yet high impact event. And we were not ready for it.

Whether one agrees with the idea that war is declining is one thing, but it should not be a cause for complacency and self-congratulation. If peace is to remain, there must be an understanding of its fragility. We should not let grand narratives of our moral progress lull us into a false sense of security; by ignoring the violence of today we open the doors to the violence of tomorrow.

 

Gideon Jones is a MA student in Terrorism, Security & Society at the War Studies Department, King’s College London, and completed his BA in History at the University of Warwick. Coming from Northern Ireland, he has been brought up in a country scarred by the issues of terrorism, conflict, sectarianism, and extremist ideology. Through this experience, he has been given valuable insight into how the legacies of such problems can continue to divide a society decades after the fighting has stopped, and how the issues left unresolved can threaten to upend a fragile peace. Gideon is a Staff Writer at Strife.

Troubles Ahead: Will Brexit See a Return of The Troubles in Northern Ireland?

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by Gideon Jones

Forensic experts examining the remains of a car bomb detonated by the New IRA in front of the courthouse in Derry, January 2019 (Image credit: Justin Kernoghan)

Though the Northern Ireland of today is a vastly different place than it was when the Troubles began in 1968, it would be a mistake to assume that those original divisions have completely healed. Despite boasting one of the lowest murder rates in Western Europe, the divisions that led to the conflict are still present, with both the Protestant and Catholic communities still living largely separated from one another, without a strong shared identity to unite them and with the Loyalist and Republican labels remaining salient. Brexit, however, is now threatening to lay bare this sectarian division like no other event ever has. Unfortunately, many are now asking themselves whether the UK leaving the European Union (EU), especially without a deal, will see the return of terrorism in Northern Ireland.

The question of Northern Ireland, and by extension its border with the Republic of Ireland, held only a minor position in the  Brexit referendum discourse, some campaigners even denied the very existence of the issue. Regardless, the border has remained a thorn in the side of successive British Prime Ministers. The main concern has been with the economic arrangements that need to be put in place once the UK leaves the EU. What makes this an even more contentious issue in Northern Ireland is that eighty five percent of Catholics voted to remain, whilst sixty percent of Protestants voted to leave. This split along religious lines is concerning to say the least. Britain’s membership in the EU allowed an invisible border to exist between North and South, allowing communities on both sides to remain in close contact, as well as unhindered passage of goods and people. This was a settlement that most in Northern Ireland were happy to keep in place, but Brexit will be seen by many in the Catholic (as well as forty percent of the Protestant) community as being imposed on them by the British against their will.

The prospect of a united Ireland is still an ideal that holds a great deal of weight in the Catholic community, and many persist in rejecting the legitimacy of Westminster (with Sinn Fein still declining to take their seats).  Perception matters, and Brexit looks to a great deal of Catholics like a political project of a distant power, meddling in their lives with little to no concern for their needs, or even their consent. If a border and custom checkpoints were to be created through a no-deal scenario, the resentment it would cause amongst Catholics can hardly be understated. Indeed, they would likely become useful recruiting tools for Dissident Republicans, as well as a targets for terrorist attacks.

The threat posed by terrorist and paramilitary groups remains a very real one. Though the Provisional IRA loyalist paramilitaries like the UVF and are unlikely to mount any campaign of violence similar in scale to that of The Troubles, according to a 2015 governmental report, all the main paramilitary groups are still in existence and remain a potential national security threat . The main Republican and Loyalist groups remain committed to achieving their political aims through peaceful means. In contrast, Dissident Republicans continue to carry out an armed campaign to end what they see as British imperialism on the island of Ireland. Dissident Republicans, those republicans who rejected the Good Friday Agreement,  are still actively opposing the peace through groups like the New IRA, and have been responsible for several attacks in Northern Ireland, as well as the death of the journalist Lyra McKee. There is a good reason to believe that groups like the New IRA will attempt to capitalise on Brexit and the discontent that it will cause, and may use it as a way to draw many young and disaffected Catholics into their ranks, carrying out further attacks across Northern Ireland.

There is no doubt that Dissident groups would have attempted to carry out attacks with or without Brexit. In fact, it could be argued that Brexit has simply brought into sharp focus the violence they have been carrying out in Northern Ireland for years. The real danger, however, is that Brexit can provide them an opportunity to get back into the spotlight, and to once again legitimise violence as a way of achieving political aims.  Brian Kenna, the chairman of Saoradh, a small republican party in Northern Ireland thought to be the political arm of the New IRA,  claimed that:

“Brexit is a huge opportunity. It’s not the reason why people would resist British rule but Brexit just gives it focus, gives it a physical picture. It’s a huge help.”

 Dissident Republicans will see Brexit, and especially a no-deal, as an opportunity too good to resist passing up – there is a very real chance that they will seek to exploit underlying resentments and take violent action. Though they may receive a bump in support and could feel emboldened by the political landscape, it remains unlikely that we are witnessing the return of The Troubles.

Whilst Northern Ireland’s political landscape may be going through a shift due to Brexit, it is not yet a forgone conclusion that people will give up on democratic means of achieving their political goals. In fact, many non-violent supporters of a united Ireland are feeling more confident of achieving it after Brexit, and believe that, in time, unification will be won through the ballot box.

It is not without some irony that as Northern Ireland approaches its centenary, there is a strong chance that it will have a Catholic majority. It would be a mistake, however, to assume that this will automatically translate into majority support for a united Ireland. Being Catholic no longer equates to being a nationalist, nor does being Protestant mean you are a unionist, with recent polling showing that people are feeling less bound by tribal loyalty and are increasingly neutral on Northern Ireland’s union with the UK. This though does mean that Northern Ireland is no longer the Protestant state for a Protestant people as it was originally envisioned to be – and the state’s ties to Britain will more likely be decided on pragmatism rather than a deep cultural or religious affinity. Republicans are given to feeling that time is on their side, and Brexit may have just sped up the process of reunification. There is moreover a deep feeling within both Protestant and Catholic communities that reunification with Ireland is more a matter of ‘when’, rather than ‘if’, as support for a united Ireland goes up, but also due to a feeling among Unionists that the British people increasingly no longer care if they stay or go.

So, will Brexit bring about a return to the Troubles in Northern Ireland? Dissidents will undoubtedly use it as an opportunity to carry out attacks and increase their own levels of support.

But a return to the Troubles? This is possible, yet highly unlikely. Politics is thankfully still seen as the arena to advance one’s goals, and the ballot box is still seen as more powerful than the bomb.

Gideon Jones is a MA student in Terrorism, Security & Society at the War Studies Department, King’s College London, and completed his BA in History at the University of Warwick.

Coming from Northern Ireland, he has been brought up in a country scarred by the issues of terrorism, conflict, sectarianism, and extremist ideology. Through this experience, he has been given valuable insight into how the legacies of such problems can continue to divide a society decades after the fighting has stopped, and how the issues left unresolved can threaten to upend a fragile peace.

Gideon is a Staff Writer at Strife.