NORTHERN Ireland has always been one enormous paradox. How else can you describe a country celebrated in equal measure for its "craic" and for the seething hatred which tore communities apart for generations? A country where former terrorists hold the key to an uneasy peace; a country which is defined by economic migration (both inwards and outwards), and yet has turned against the dispossessed who have come to its shores in search of a better life?
The vicious attacks on hundreds of Romanians in south Belfast last week not only gave the lie to the politicians' claims that Northern Ireland has been transformed into an idyll of tolerance and diversity, it proved that, even now, the province is re
plete with bitter ironies.
The fact that the thugs who hurled broken bottles at Romanian families, who chanted racist slogans and vandalised their homes until they were forced to seek sanctuary at a local church, are as likely as not the descendants of Scots who were themselves persecuted after settling in Ulster in the early 17th century is just one of them.
There is also the absurd contradiction of Martin McGuinness, former chief of staff of the IRA, expressing his bewilderment at the notion that one section of a population might turn on another section of the population over something as simple as their ethnicity. And this just a matter of weeks since the murder of Catholic Kevin McDaid hours after Rangers won the league showed a significant minority in Northern Ireland still struggles to live in harmony with those of a different Christian denomination, never mind a different race.
Then there is the broader irony that a country which for so many years struggled to attract day trippers, let alone people who wanted to spend their lives there, should treat settlers so abysmally when they finally arrive.
Northern Ireland is also known for its culture of political double speak and obfuscation and there was plenty of that in evidence in the coverage of last week's attacks, too. So much is invested in portraying the province as having overcome its past, no-one wants to be seen to be singling out one section of the community for blame. The result was that while many news organisations pointed out that these attacks were carried out by people from the Village, few clearly spelled out that this is a staunchly Loyalist area, controlled by the UDA and UVF.
The police continue to insist there is no evidence to suggest the racist violence has been orchestrated, but everyone knows there is a history of link-ups between Loyalist paramilitaries and far-right groups such as the BNP, Combat 18 and The White Nationalists. If the UDA or the UVF were not actively behind this violence, then they at least turned a blind eye.
Much has been made, too, of the apparent reluctance to point out that these attacks were targeted not at Romanians in general, but at the Roma: Romany gypsies, who, in this instance, happen to come from Romania.
This reticence may spring from a sense that emphasising the victims' ethnicity may further stigmatise them, but it's important that we acknowledge it because the Roma are currently under attack all over Europe and no-one seems to be willing to do anything about it. Persecuted at home, they have moved from country to country in search of some haven only to find their new hosts equally hostile to their traditional way of life.
The cultural gap between the Roma and the indigenous populations of their adopted countries is so great that a degree of friction is almost inevitable, even in more traditionally tolerant areas such as Glasgow's Govanhill. Those who acquire Roma neighbours complain of noisy gatherings on street corners and children begging in the streets. While some of those accusations are doubtless exaggerated, it seems indisputable that decades of oppression (20,000 died at a Roma camp at Auschwitz) have left some with a siege mentality which makes integration more difficult.
None of this is an excuse for the appalling way the Roma are being treated. Last year, they were the target of mob violence in Litvinov, in the Czech Republic, while, in Hungary, far-right extremists killed four Roma immigrants in arson attacks. What is more frightening than the attitude of extremists, however, is the way in which abusing Romas seems to be becoming an acceptable mainstream pursuit. People who wouldn't dream of attacking the rights of Asians or black people or Poles refer quite openly to "the Roma problem" apparently oblivious to the phrase's Nazi heritage.
In Northern Ireland, of course, the racists' allusion to Hitler was quite deliberate. They gave Nazi salutes and stuffed pages of Mein Kampf through the letter boxes of homes they were targeting.
But while – on this occasion – the attacks were focused on the Roma, it is clear the Loyalists' loathing is not confined to any one group. As far back as 2004, they were engaged in their own kind of vicious racism, forcing Chinese, Asian and African families out of the area, and warning a local estate agent not to rent to any more "foreigners". The latest spate of violence began after trouble flared between rival fans at a Northern Ireland versus Poland football match in March, hence the recent focus on Eastern Europeans – but anyone perceived as an outsider is fair game.
In the last few years, the number of reported racist crimes in Northern Ireland has soared (from 41 in 1996 to 990 last year) while the number of sectarian crimes has remained steady. It seems that far from using the peace process to start afresh, a minority of the province's battle-hardened populace have found a new way to hate.
