When Dublin erupted in a riot last November masked youths looted shops, set fires and shouted slogans against immigrants and refugees. “Ireland is full,” said one banner. “Ireland for the Irish,” said another.
Resentment at asylum seekers, demographic changes, a housing crisis, crime and the cost of living had boiled over, turning O’Connell Street, the capital’s main thoroughfare, into what looked like a war zone.
Two months later, on another cold night, a different scene unfolded: hundreds of people queued at a soup kitchen run mostly by women wearing hijabs. In place of shouts there were warm greetings, including as-salaam alaikum, Arabic for peace be upon you.
“The food here is unbelievable – falafel and chicken burgers, curry, salad, you name it, they’re one of the best groups around,” said one young man, an unemployed plasterer from Dublin. “We’d be lost without them, and they’re Muslims. So you see, the riot wasn’t a racist thing.”
The Muslim Sisters of Éire, a charity, runs the service every Friday on the corner of O’Connell Street and Prince’s Street, serving up to 550 meals to people, Irish and non-Irish, in an area associated with crime, poverty and tension.
Over seven years it has become a valued institution, offering sleeping bags, hygiene kits and food to desperate people even as desperation has worsened and fuelled a backlash against foreigners.
Some of the Irish beneficiaries queueing for a meal acknowledged a contradiction – they considered the riot a legitimate revolt against “way too many” new arrivals yet appreciated the foreigners ladling dinner into cartons.
“It’s a grey area,” said the plasterer, who like some others in the queue withheld his name, citing stigma over homelessness. Of 75 men in his hostel, 65 were foreigners, he said. “I’ve seen this city change in the past 10 years. Close your mouth here and you’ll hear how much English is spoken,” he said, alluding to the queue’s mix of Ukrainian, Romanian, Hindi, Urdu, Somali, Arabic and other languages.
New arrivals diverted accommodation and services needed for natives, he said. “We’re being taken for mugs. The government is not listening to the people.” His girlfriend, a chef who also lives in a hostel, agreed. “It’s not right that Irish people are on the streets.” She complained about a Kenyan roommate. “On the phone all the time talking gibberish, I can’t sleep.”
Another Dubliner who gave her name only as Danielle, 30, said her hostel demanded she renew identity documents while some asylum seekers destroyed their passports upon arrival at Dublin airport. “How is that supposed to be fair?”
Other grievances echoed the perception that immigration was aggravating a housing shortage and strain on public services. “You need to get things sorted out before you invite people in,” said Norman, an unemployed butcher. “This city is a powder keg.”
Others dispute that. Dublin has experienced no repeat anarchy since 23 November. And the Muslim Sisters of Éire do not sense a surge in Islamophobia.
The riot – which flared after a man with Algerian roots stabbed three children – involved thugs encouraged by far-right activists, said Lorraine O’Connor, a Dubliner who set up the charity in 2010 after converting to Islam.
The real problem was not racism but poverty, unaffordable rents and overstretched services, said O’Connor. The volunteers who are foreign and wear hijabs feel secure, she said. “The homeless see you caring, doing your little bit to combat adversity, and they respect that.”
Volunteers, who include men and non-Muslims, hope the riot was an aberration. “I think it was a once in a blue moon [event],” said Esam Adnan, 24, a medical student from Saudi Arabia who works in Dublin hospitals. “I don’t feel any hostility. The Irish are warm and welcoming.”
Mohammed Rashid, an entrepreneur who has been in Ireland since 1997 and donates meals from his food company, Safco, said extremism remained marginal. “The far right is very small. Overall I think we’re still in a good place.”
But fears endure. The government has run out of accommodation for refugees, forcing some to sleep on the streets, and protests against refugee centres have led to arson attacks.
Emeka Wosu, 49, a Nigerian who was queueing for a meal, said he slept in his car. “Living here, it’s been tough.” Last week he took in a lodger – an arrival from Ghana.
