This week, the European Commission issued a formal warning to Ireland:
You have two months to implement hate speech laws — or face trial before the European Court of Justice.
According to Brussels, Ireland has failed to fulfil its obligations under the EU’s 2008 Framework Decision on hate speech, despite passing new hate crime legislation last year. The problem, they say, is that Ireland hasn’t gone far enough in criminalising certain forms of expression.
The Government now faces a choice: capitulate to a vague legal mandate — or defend the Irish Constitution, democratic discourse, and the right of citizens to speak freely, even controversially.
We’ve been here before. In 2024, a sweeping hate speech bill was brought forward, then quietly shelved after massive public opposition. It proposed criminalising material “likely to incite hatred” or that “demonstrates hostility” — without ever defining these terms clearly. It opened the door to punishing not just speech, but intent, thought, and even passive possession of digital content.
From Passive Browsing to Criminal Intent
The Hate Speech Bill criminalises not only direct speech, but also the mere possession or preparation of material deemed "hateful," regardless of whether it has been shared or published. Even more dangerously, it criminalises the preparation or possession of material with the intent of distribution at an undefined future time. Crucially, the bill introduces the concept that being exposed to prohibited information — or simply storing it — can constitute a crime, even if no actual harmful action has taken place.
In some countries, it is already illegal to view what authorities classify as "far-right" material. But who defines what "far-right" means? Does that include traditional religious views? Nationalist history? Opposition to global institutions? When the boundaries are undefined, virtually anything can be reclassified as dangerous. What happens if an algorithm, completely beyond your control, recommends this material to you on YouTube, Twitter, or Facebook? Are you guilty for simply being exposed to it? Is passive consumption now criminal intent?
In the United Kingdom, we have already seen how similar legislation has metastasized:
Parents arrested for complaining about poor teachers in private WhatsApp groups.
Citizens interrogated for "likes" on Facebook posts deemed "offensive."
Individuals investigated because other people posted controversial material on their Facebook walls — without their knowledge.
Imagine if the same mechanisms are applied here.
If today you agree with the policing of certain speech, what happens tomorrow when the definition of "hate" shifts?
What if a piece of gay literature, misunderstood or misinterpreted, leads to arrest?
What if religious expression is classified as "extremism"?
What if having the "wrong" algorithmic content suggested to you triggers suspicion — not because of your actions, but because of opaque, automated systems?
The most dangerous aspect of this bill is the criminalisation of information viewing itself. Under this framework, individuals could be arrested not for what they say, but for what they are exposed to online — regardless of their intent. This creates the chilling possibility of erasing alternative viewpoints altogether and arresting those who even consider learning about other perspectives.
In such a system, governments could selectively control public knowledge, ensuring that only state-approved narratives are accessible, while punishing citizens for even glimpsing dissent. This is not protection; this is censorship enforced by fear.
In a true democracy, your civil rights do not depend on who is currently in government. They are permanent protections, regardless of whether you are in the political majority or minority.
Today’s targets may be traditionalists and cultural conservatives. Tomorrow’s targets could be liberals, LGBTQ+ activists, or artists.
Once the machinery is built, it will not ask for your permission before turning against you.
Vague Language is the Death of Justice
When legal concepts like “hatred,” “hostility,” or “abuse” are left undefined, we invite selective enforcement and political weaponisation. A democracy cannot function when citizens are forced to guess which opinions are legal and which ones might land them in court.
Intent must be provable.
Harm must be real, not a feeling.
Emotionally charged ambiguity is not a legal standard — it’s a recipe for fear.
Aontú Spoke First — Then Others Followed
Back in 2024, most parties remained cautious or supportive as the bill advanced. But Aontú was among the first to raise the alarm — clearly, consistently, and without flinching. It took political courage to oppose a bill marketed as protecting the vulnerable. That stance, rooted in constitutional rights and democratic values, was later echoed by independents and even members of Sinn Féin as public awareness grew.
Aontú didn’t stand alone in the end — but they stood first, and that matters.
Europe Has a Problem With Speech — Not Just Ireland
Ireland is not the only country grappling with this dilemma.
Across the EU, vague hate speech laws have been abused.
In England, people have been arrested for quoting the Bible or misgendering online.
In Germany, police have interrogated citizens over memes and political satire.
In Sweden, the state is prosecuting individuals for posts that challenge government policy.
When you criminalise interpretation instead of action, the law stops protecting people — and starts protecting power.
History Must Remain Open to Investigation
The EU Framework also demands that states criminalise “gross trivialisation” or denial of historical atrocities like the Holocaust. But we must be careful here: truth does not require censorship.
To say “the Holocaust happened” is not the same as saying no further questions can ever be asked. Historical inquiry — into any atrocity — must always remain open to investigation, context, and even critique. That is the foundation of journalism, science, and moral justice.
Let us imagine a law that declared:
“Israel has never harmed civilians and has only acted in self-defence.”
That might be passed to combat antisemitism — but it would also criminalise truth.
Because while Hamas and Hezbollah have committed horrific crimes,
Israel, too, has bombed schools, hospitals, and apartment blocks.
It has blockaded aid, destroyed universities, and left entire families starving.
International observers have rightly called it a deliberately engineered famine.
To criminalise mention of these facts would not promote peace — it would erase victims.
Some historical traumas are protected by law. Others — like those of Palestinians — are criminalised when spoken.
This is not justice. It’s silence.
Free Speech Is Not the Enemy of Compassion — It Is Its Condition
Free expression is not a threat to dignity.
It is the oxygen that allows dignity to exist — to be debated, affirmed, and defended.
Real hate — the kind that leads to violence — must be opposed by clear, enforceable laws. But criminalising vague forms of “offence” or “insult” will not end hatred. It will only banish dissent, polarise the public, and hand immense power to those who decide what counts as acceptable.
If Ireland must legislate, let it do so with precision:
Define incitement clearly.
Require proof of intent and harm.
Protect political, religious, and artistic expression.
And ensure enforcement is neutral and not ideological.
If the EU rejects that, then Ireland must consider refusing outright.
We do not lose our sovereignty because others are confused.
A Plea to President Higgins — Use the Office, Not Just the Title
If this bill — or one like it — is revived and passed by the Oireachtas under EU pressure, it must not go directly into law.
President Michael D. Higgins has a constitutional responsibility to act as a guardian of democratic principles.
He should refer the bill to the Supreme Court under Article 26 of the Constitution, to test whether it violates Article 40.6.1, which protects the right to “freely express convictions and opinions.”
This is not a political move — it is a constitutional duty.
President Higgins has built a reputation as a defender of culture, academic freedom, and civil society.
Now is the time to prove it.
Because if laws criminalising vague and undefined forms of speech can pass without judicial scrutiny, then the presidency risks becoming symbolic, not substantive.
Final Thought: What Kind of Country Do We Want?
Laws that punish speech are always justified in the name of peace.
But history shows what they often become: tools for fear, conformity, and silence.
This is not about protecting hate.
It’s about protecting hope — and the right to speak on behalf of the voiceless, the censored, and the forgotten.
If we silence them today, who will speak for us tomorrow?
The EU has offered Ireland access to trade and economic stability — but with Ursula von der Leyen’s recent centralising policies, we must now ask: at what cost?