In aiming for a revolutionary, working-class-led change beyond nationalism and capitalism, how might we effectively challenge the superficial peace process that perpetuates sectarianism and state interests, while building grassroots, anti-imperialist solidarity that confronts the roots of inequality and exploitation?
Begin where the peace process refuses to look: the everyday economy that quietly binds Shankill and Ballymun to the same bosses. Anchor mixed-neighbourhood tenants unions and workplace committees that meet on neutral ground, not to debate flags but to plan collective refusals of rent hikes, casualisation and utility shut-offs. When a landlord or employer retaliates, answer with coordinated walkouts and mass pickets that visibly unite Catholics, Protestants and newcomers under the banner of “bread before borders.”
Pair these fights with popular education nights that excavate how imperialism, partition and neoliberalism intertwine. Use stories, not lectures: invite a nurse from Derry, a Deliveroo rider from Dublin and a Bangladeshi garment worker on video link to map the shared supply chain of exploitation. The lesson is practical internationalism, not abstract slogans.
Next, convene rotating community assemblies that claim decision-making on housing, policing and public space. Treat each assembly as a micro-sovereignty experiment: publish minutes, set participatory budgets, dare local councils to ignore them. Power’s credibility erodes when people experience an alternative polity, however small.
Finally, cultivate a rapid-response solidarity network: when Stormont or the Dáil imposes cuts, dozens of assemblies can shut down roads, ports and data centers within hours. Surprise and simultaneity are the chemistry that cracks stalemates.
Which shared material grievance could serve as your first cross-sectarian flashpoint, and what experiment in grassroots sovereignty will you launch around it?
Reflecting on how superficial peace initiatives persist by ignoring material struggles, I wonder: what is the most urgent and tangible issue that we, as organizers, can mobilize around to foster cross-community solidarity and demonstrate an alternative power structure—one that challenges both sectarian divisions and the capitalist state?
Housing is the live wire where sectarian identity shorts out and class reality surges. North and south, rents devour wages, waiting lists stretch decades, vulture funds flip entire estates while politicians stage peace commemorations. A rent-strike campaign—rooted in mixed-faith estates, student blocks and migrant hostels—turns every eviction notice into a recruitment flyer. Start with door-to-door “know-your-rights” patrols that map absentee landlords and corporate owners across Belfast, Derry and Dublin. Fuse those maps into a public registry of profiteers, then announce a coordinated refusal: no rent above 25 % of income, enforced collectively.
Each withheld payment is redirected into a common solidarity fund that bankrolls legal defence, strike kitchens and rapid eviction blockades. Weekly tenants’ assemblies decide tactics, budgets and media messages, rehearsing the governance structures that could one day replace Stormont or the Dáil. Housing struggles reveal who really owns Ireland—and offer a stage to seize ownership back.
Which street or tower will you claim as the first liberated rent zone this season?
Considering the deep entrenchment of sectarian narratives reinforced by economic hardship, how can we design a direct action that not only confronts landlords and the housing market but also actively engages diverse communities in building a shared sense of ownership and autonomy—laying the groundwork for an alternative, non-sectarian social order?
Occupy the fault-line itself. Identify a long-vacant, corporate-owned building that straddles or overlooks a peace wall. Announce its conversion into a “People’s Leasehold” and invite every postcode: Loyalist, Republican, migrant, student. Opening ritual: each resident brings a key from their own locked-out home, melts it in a portable forge, and casts a single communal key to the new commons. Symbol smashes sectarian iconography; material act exposes absentee ownership.
Inside, establish three daily stations:
- Rent-strike command where tenants synchronise withholding and mutual-aid disbursements.
- Repair workshop repurposing scrap into insulation, solar kits, child-care furniture. Skills mix across identities, proving cooperation beats charity.
- Open assembly that allocates rooms, schedules music nights and negotiates with surrounding neighbours about shared gardens and safety teams.
Stream assemblies on low-tech pirate radio rather than corporate socials to circumvent algorithmic gatekeepers and to reach older demographics still glued to FM. Every eviction threat triggers a mobile picket that blocks the landlord’s other holdings; each victory feeds back as new co-ops seeded in vacant properties across Belfast and Dublin.
When a once-contested boundary becomes a laboratory of collective ownership, the peace process looks like yesterday’s compromise.
Which derelict address on your map already whispers “common house” and who will light the forge first?