The chilling rise of ‘IRA TikTok’

There’s an ever shorter period now, it seems, between the emergence of any new medium and its energetic use for promoting hatred. And no one can accuse the young fans of militant Irish republicanism of not keeping up with the times: the proliferation of ‘IRA TikTok’ is a case in point.

The video-sharing network has inspired growing numbers of Irish-American and Irish youth — often those with ‘Up The Ra!’ in their TikTok profiles — to post clips of themselves clad in balaclavas, posing meaningfully with a fake gun, or mimicking planting a bomb by throwing a backpack under a car and racing away. The soundtrack is mostly provided by Irish rebel music or rap. This phenomenon was first noted in the autumn, where it was generally treated as a jolting but harmless self-expression. Having taken a look recently, amid thickening tensions in Northern Ireland, I’m not quite so relaxed.

There’s a strong whiff of Walter Mitty to these homespun videos, of course: a desperate attempt to épater les bourgeois by cosplaying a 1980s Belfast Provo from a messy teenage bedroom in a suburban home. Sometimes, though, a clip moves into something more deeply chilling. The creator of one account, called ‘thatprovosniper’, has carefully filmed himself in a balaclava looking intently out of the window: there is a sudden flash, and a look of satisfaction steals into his eyes. The caption reads: ‘Watching my British neighbour get into his car in the morning.’

Another TikToker, presumably from Northern Ireland, filmed the grave of two of the adult children of Jean McConville — the mother of ten who was abducted, murdered and ‘disappeared’ by the IRA — and mused crudely on its proximity to the grave of Dolours Price, the former IRA member who drove Mrs McConville to her death. In the comments beneath, some argued that the victim was unworthy of sympathy.