Abstract
As Brexit negotiations continue to draw criticism nearly two years on from the UK’s withdrawal from the European Union, many media outlets have concentrated on making sense of what has been dubbed the ‘Brexit circus’. In particular, significant media attention has been directed towards obstacles to Brexit’s progression, such as the issue of the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland and the ‘backstop’ arrangement. Through an examination of different media efforts to explain the border issue, this paper will discuss how conventional reporting methods have been unable to make this issue comprehensible to the individual. This paper will suggest that a hypertextual aesthetic form would provide a more effective means of making sense of the complexity of the border issue and its relationship to global political and economic structures. However, an understanding of the border issue also requires an understanding of the affective reality of life in this region and the history upon which this reality is founded. In this manner, this paper also argues that representational regimes capable of conveying affective realities could contribute important experiential dimensions to efforts to render dominant political and economic structures both cognisable and contestable.
Introduction
Following the UK’s decision to leave the European Union in June 2016, Brexit heavily dominated media output in Europe, as well as farther afield. Through general elections, misleading bus campaigns, and efforts to oust Theresa May, Brexit became a source of continuous bewilderment and frustration for many as they tried to comprehend the increasing absurdity of this Brexit ‘circus’ (Aslam, 2018; Inman, 2019). Amidst this confusion significant media attention at the time was directed towards making sense of the complexities of Brexit and what its various implications might be. Nowhere was this tendency more pronounced than in efforts to make sense of the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland (NI) and the various issues that Brexit poses to communities and industry across their shared island. Most notably, there was an abundance of media content available online attempting to make sense of the border, the ‘backstop’, and their impact on Brexit negotiations. While these media productions may have focused on different areas of interest, such as cross-border communities, education, agriculture or cross-border trade, many also touched on the tumultuous history of the border between Ireland and NI, focusing in particular on The Troubles and fears of a resurgence of violence in the region. Much of this content also emphasised the fluidity or invisibility of the border, and discussed the complications that could arise in trying to re-implement any kind of border infrastructure, technological or otherwise, across the 200-or-so formal crossings that connect Ireland and NI (Morris, 2017).
Understanding the border and its relationship to Brexit has depended on an understanding of the various networks that connect communities, businesses and services across the island of Ireland, as well as an understanding of the complex history that has led to the current border arrangement. However, it also requires an understanding of how both the political conundrum that is Brexit and international political negotiations will affect the daily lives of those living in this region. In this manner, understanding the border requires not only a grasp of the everyday workings of this region, but also an understanding of the broader progression of Brexit, its place in the global political arena, and the various impacts it continues to have on the UK. With this in mind, this paper shall explore the different means through which the complexity of this invisible border can be grasped. Through an analysis of different attempts at using media to make sense of the border issue, this paper will argue that a combination of both cognitive mapping and affective aesthetics is one possible means through which the complexity of the border can be made more readily accessible and comprehensible. Given the continued debate and dissatisfaction that surround the Northern Ireland protocol, and its links to a resurgence of violence in the region (Hirst, 2021), this paper seeks to reflect on a media environment that, despite its best efforts to explain the complexities of the border region, was often unable to convey the urgency and consequence of this matter. In particular, this paper hopes to demonstrate the need for new affective representational regimes that are capable of capturing and conveying the intricacies of contemporary (geo)political, social and economic realities.
Cognitive mapping
The enormity and complexity of the new global capitalist reality is, for Jameson (1988), both inaccessible and unrepresentable, entirely out of reach for the post-modern subject’s consciousness. The impossibility of contemplating, understanding or perceiving capitalism’s expanse and the vast global networks it has established leads to the ‘fragmented and schizophrenic decentering’ of the post-modern subject, rendering them alienated and politically paralysed (Jameson, 1988: 351). However, without an understanding of the interconnected domestic and global structures that politics purports to engage with, Jameson asks how political action can be achieved? How can one effectively defeat an opponent without any prior knowledge of the opponent’s disposition, their strengths and weaknesses? And yet, when the opponent in question is the ruling capitalist order, how can one aim to know anything about the structures they are up against when these structures themselves defy representation? This is the fundamental dilemma that Jameson’s proposed project of cognitive mapping aims to address. Jameson’s call for an aesthetic of cognitive mapping seeks to explore representational practices capable of depicting ‘social space and class relations in our epoch of late capitalism or postmodernity’ (Toscano and Kinkle, 2015). These practices would allow both individual subjects and collectivities to make sense of the totality of the capitalist world-system system and their position within it, and could also reveal opportunities for invoking change (Toscano and Kinkle, 2015). In this sense, cognitive mapping is an attempt to bring about a certain ‘political visibility’ as described by Toscano and Kinkle (2015), which seeks to counter the ‘political and economic invisibility’ that comprises the foundations of this dominant regime.
Jameson (1988) states that the ‘conception of capital is [. . .] a totalizing or systemic concept’ in that ‘no one has ever seen or met the thing itself’ (p. 354). Brexit, I argue, is an equally totalising concept, one that cannot be beheld in its entirety, and that exists primarily as a kind of ‘ideological vision’ (Jameson, 1988: 354). Indeed, the majority vote in favour of Brexit was itself a partial consequence of the effects of neo-liberal capitalism on British society and the rise in economic inequalities that it engendered (Faber, 2018: 8). These economic inequalities were capitalised on by Eurosceptic lobbies, who blamed the EU’s freedom of movement of labour principle, among other issues, for the struggles of the British public (McCall, 2018). Xenophobic rhetoric from politicians surrounding both economic migrants and refugee seekers stoked the fires of securitisation discourses (McCall, 2018), suddenly bringing the border to the forefront of British political and civil debate. Much like Fleuriet and Castellano’s (2020) discussion of the US-Mexico border under Trump, the UK’s sea and land borders became prominent ‘concept-metaphors’ in news media and political discourse, shifting from mundane geographical realities to a metaphorical encapsulation of the supposed insecurity, weakness and threat besetting the UK. Crucially, concept-metaphors like that of the border under Brexit do not serve to reflect daily realities, but rather operate on a more abstract and imagined level, facilitating conversations about shared cultural phenomena (Moore, 2004). The UK’s borders became intrinsic to the ideological vision of Brexit, taking on an increased metaphorical weight that offered a potential solution to a collective sense of change in the British experience.
Of course, borders as understood within the national popular imaginary do not typically reflect the realities of those who have direct experience of the borderlands (Fleuriet and Castellano, 2020). In particular, while Great Britain’s sea borders can more readily succumb to discourses of securitisation (McCall, 2018), the border between Ireland and NI actively resists the simplistic concept-metaphor of lawlessness and threat so prevalent under Brexit. While the dominant rhetoric of Brexit emphasised the need for strong border that could prevent the threat of unwanted immigration and EU control, in the case of the Irish-NI border, it is its essential absence that prevents the threat of sectarian violence from resurfacing. This tension between one invisible border and another imagined one is central to the cognitive challenges of Brexit, as metaphorical vision of the border as necessary fortress cannot attest for its intricate fuzziness. As Gormley-Heenan and Aughey (2017) note, Brexit has not only hinged upon desires to control borders, but the referendum has also enacted a kind of ‘border in the mind’ of those affected, where they must now delineate their own position in relation to new political and social logics (p. 497). Yet, how can political actors and citizens aim to make sense of Brexit and its ramifications when it is so intrinsically linked to this neo-liberal order, and when it stands to penetrate and transform so extensively the contemporary British experience? In the case of the border between Ireland and NI, how can the complexity of this issue be grasped when the border itself, and the networks of communities and industries that cross it, cannot be perceived by the naked eye? Most importantly, how can we make sense of the border when this issue is itself contingent on the equally complicated and incomprehensible Brexit conundrum? By charting the various ‘social forces’ that shape the present issue of Brexit and the border (Toscano and Kinkle, 2015), an aesthetic of cognitive mapping could potentially assist in making the issue of Brexit and the border more accessible and intelligible to both citizens and political agents alike.
Conflict amidst a conflicted media landscape
At this point it is worth noting the complicated place of news reporting, and television news in particular, within the intricate lattice of social, cultural and (geo)political positionings that gave rise to not only the Troubles, but that have also shaped NI’s invisible border and its current ‘special status’ in relation to the rest of the UK and the EU (Gallardo, 2022). Social and political tensions in NI prior the Troubles had received very little attention or coverage elsewhere in the UK (Doherty, 2019), and news reporting in NI itself was highly polarised, with different print media catering to Nationalist and Unionist communities (Herbert, 2007). Although The Belfast Telegraph has long circulated across religious and political divides, other local newspapers have been seen to further exacerbate sectarian tensions on a community level (Herbert, 2007). Radio and television have also been accused of contributing to conflict in the region through biased reporting, thus magnifying feelings of neglect in both Nationalist and Unionist communities (Herbert, 2007).
Even in a post-Troubles society, local print media in NI continue to foster politically-driven notions of identity. As demonstrated by Fenton (2018) the emergent Northern Irish identity (in contrast to the Irish and British identities protected by the GFA) has gone through a gradual process of political re-orientation, with local newspapers reflecting and accentuating an increased Unionist political influence on this once more neutral identity formation. Fenton (2018) further notes that while this shift in political orientation was reflected in newspapers from different social and political positions, the increasing Unionist associations of the Northern Irish identity were most prominently emphasised and problematised in the Nationalist Irish News, thus distancing Nationalist news audiences from an identity that might foster cross-community reconciliation. If media are critical in a nation’s ability to understand and reflect upon itself (Ning, 2021), then in the case of print media in NI we see how both a divided media landscape and the politically oriented consumption of media can in fact inhibit the formation of a cohesive sense of national identity and the critical historical reflection that this entails.
Television news reporting has, at various times, also amplified and deepened divides in NI for similar reasons. Television audiences in NI are uniquely positioned in terms of consumption, in that they have access not only to domestic broadcasters like Ulster Television (UTV), but also the BBC and other British channels, as well as the Irish Raidió Teilifís Éireann (RTÉ) and other channels from south of the border as a result of broadcast spillover (Herbert, 2007). Although historically viewers in NI have had a greater access to various television broadcasters than their neighbours in Great Britain or Ireland (Herbert, 2007), this exposure to a broader range of national media has not necessarily facilitated a greater cross-community understanding of different political positions within the conflict nor a sense of national and/or regional cohesion. This is, partly, a result of the political positioning of these broadcasters themselves. RTÉ was founded in 1953 as a response to fears over the foreign influence of British television programming in the Republic, where many television owners could access British channels due to geographical proximity (Ning, 2021). Although it cannot be argued that RTÉ took a pro-Nationalist stance in its coverage of the Troubles, in fact RTÉ’s relationship with the Irish government were tense during the early years of the Troubles as it sought more journalistic autonomy, as the national broadcaster of the Republic its reporting inevitably prioritised matters in the conflict that were of more immediate concern to its national audience (Ivory, 2013). The BBC, on the other hand, was seen to cater too heavily to the British government’s own stance on the Troubles, framing the issue solely as one of terrorism as opposed to a complex consequence of its own political construction of the region (Kaufman, 2021). In this manner, news reporting was, to an extent, a contributing factor to tensions in the region in that it reflected and amplified already existing social, cultural and political divisions.
Television reporting is also especially important to discussions of the Troubles and a post-Troubles NI, given the principal role played by television reporting in bringing the tensions between Nationalists and Unionists to the attention of a wider public. As discussed by Doherty (2019) the presence of three television crews at a 1968 civil rights march in (London)Derry helped to catapult tensions in the region into a globally recognised issue. Recognised as the outbreak of the Troubles, this October 1968 civil rights march by the Derry Housing Action Committee had upset the local loyalist community, and was met with an exceedingly violent response by the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC; Doherty, 2019). Camera crews from RTÉ, UTV and the BBC each captured the violent actions of the RUC, and the protest was a main news item that evening on each station (Doherty, 2019). Not only was this outbreak of violence broadcast to viewers in Ireland, NI and Great Britain, but the uproar caused by this explicit footage hurtled the clash, and tensions in NI more broadly, to global attention (Doherty, 2019). As Doherty (2019) notes, this protest, although violent, did not result in any causalities, and had it not been for the visceral footage shot by these television crews, rising tensions in NI might not have become a global news issue quite so early. The role of television news in the coverage and trajectory of the Troubles, then, cannot be understated.
Crucially, television coverage of such violent clashes helped to foster intense emotional responses of shock and horror, as seen in the many condemnations of the clash written by news audiences at the time (Doherty, 2019), but did not necessarily facilitate a deep understanding of the complex issues at hand. This has been a consistent issue in the coverage of political and social issues in NI, where fears over the consequences of such reporting have greatly impacted the tone and extent of coverage. Not only has there long been accusations of media bias from Nationalists and Unionists alike (Herbert, 2007), but fears that news coverage might lead to terrorist sympathies led to the cancellation or censorship of up to 100 programmes on the conflict by the BBC alone (Herbert, 2007). RTÉ was also subject to government directives following the broadcast of interviews with members of Republican terrorist organisations in 1972 (Ivory, 2013). Coverage of the conflict as broadcast in NI, then, has a history of exacerbating tensions on both a political and community level. Rather than facilitate an understanding of the Troubles and division in NI, media coverage of the region has in fact been a constituent factor in the cognitive impenetrability of the intertwining political, social and cultural issues that plague the region.
Reporting on Brexit in the UK can be said to continue this history of generating and amplifying the cognitive impenetrability of NI issues. Brexit itself is a consequence of the UK’s polarised media landscape and the disintegration of local news structures, which combined have fostered a sense of alienation and frustration among residents of overlooked and under-represented regions (Seaton, 2016). A lack of local news reporting means a lack of local understanding and positioning within larger political, social and cultural frameworks, leaving residents highly susceptible to the influence of biased anti-EU reporting such as that seen in The Daily Mail, The Daily Sun and The Daily Express (Seaton, 2016). As just one factor in the intricate political manoeuvre that is Brexit, NI and the Irish-NI border issue become lost within a larger, totalising and rather alienating political discussion. If even the media closest to the conflict have long failed to make sense of and adequately convey the reality of social and political life in NI, then how can any media outlet be expected to explain the intricacies of NI as they now relate to a new larger and more impenetrable political and social context? The following section will explore precisely the issues faced by the media in detangling the dense and complex web of historical, political and economic realities that make NI and its invisible border such a potent presence in discussions of Brexit to this day.
Making sense of Brexit and the border
On the 8th of December 2017 the UK and the EU signed a Joint Report ensuring a committent by both sides to avoid a hard border on the island of Ireland, while also ‘maintaining the integrity of the UK internal market “and Northern Ireland’s place within it”’ (Anderson, 2018: 263). In the case that an adequate solution cannot be agreed upon, the Joint Report stipulates a ‘backstop’ arrangement which specifies that the UK will remain aligned with the rules of the Internal Market and the Customs Union in order to protect the all-island economy of Ireland and NI, and to uphold the commitments laid out by the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) of 1998 (Anderson, 2018). However, this backstop arrangement has not been embraced by all, with the Democratic Unionist Party expressing concern that this agreement could potentially separate NI from the rest of the UK, thus undermining its ‘territorial integrity’ (Anderson, 2018: 264). Other pro-Brexit politicians see the backstop as an attempt to perpetuate EU influence in the UK indefinitely, expressing fears that the UK would have to continue to follow EU regulations for an undetermined period of time (Campbell, 2019). The backstop arrangement proved to be a significant obstacle for Brexit negotiations, and nearly two years on from the UK’s withdrawal from the European Union, the so-called ‘border down the Irish Sea’ continues to threaten the social fabric in NI (Hirst, 2021). The recent outbreak of violent protests in NI against the realities of the backstop’s implementation call attention to the fact that at the time of Brexit negotiations, the backstop, although central to negotiations on a discursive level, was also to an extent overlooked in terms of its affective meaning. That is to say, the full meaning of the backstop was not adequately addressed or conveyed, neither by politicians nor by the media. Consequently, this has created an environment where violent protests have erupted among communities who feel that their concerns and identities have not been taken into consideration (Hirst, 2021). This section aims to explore how, despite extensive media coverage, analyses of the backstop and the border problem failed to articulate the complexity and urgency of this issue.
In the wake of the backstop issue and the confusion it has generated many media outlets and content creators attempted to explain the backstop and the historical, economic and social complications it encompasses. Yet these mediated explanations are attempting to make sense of an issue that is in many ways imperceptible. Not only is the border itself largely invisible (O’Hagan, 2017), but what is at risk in the case of a hard border is ultimately the very banality of everyday life. Understanding Brexit’s potential impact on the border requires an understanding of both complicated histories and intricate realities that have been deliberately rendered invisible in the name of ensuring a fragile peace in this region. However, not only do news media tend to emphasise the emotional and the dramatic in ways that can impede understanding and progress (Spencer, 2004), but this appeal to dramatics runs counter to the banality of border life that is so central to the Irish-NI border issue. News media, then, have had a significant challenge when trying to report on the Irish-NI border under Brexit, not only because the ordinariness of the border frustrates the dramatic and emotional logics of news media, but because they need to make tangible for audiences an issue that is at once invisible but that is equally defined by the near incognisable impacts Brexit could have on the border.
The following examples have been selected as they encapsulate precisely the representational difficulties faced by news media when trying to explain and explore the border issue, as they try to visualise the invisible, convey the intangible and explain the impenetrable. Although some examples are from UK media outlets, these examples have not been chosen because of their (historical) proximity to the political issues of NI, but rather because they represent precisely the impenetrability and inaccessibility of understanding that is now pervasive in global news reporting. As audio-visual media, these examples promise not just a dynamic and engaging discussion of the border issue, but also a greater level of accessibility in that they combine visual aids with narration and/or on-screen descriptions to help build a cohesive and understandable image of the problems at hand. Despite their efforts, however, each of these examples fails in some way to truly convey the complexity of the Irish-NI border.
There are two main approaches that media outlets have taken when attempting to explain the border issue through video. The first approach involves the use of animated maps of the UK, Ireland and the EU, and can be seen in videos produced by Vox (2018), TLDR News (2018) and Channel 4 News (2018). These videos use animated maps to give a ‘god’s-eye-view’ of Brexit and the border (Toscano and Kinkle, 2015), helping to contextualise this issue as it relates to the UK’s exit from the EU more broadly. As noted by Toscano and Kinkle (2015), overviews of this nature serve to dramatise the ‘processes of inquiry and sight involved in the endeavour to understand the world, and the magnitude of the ambition behind such an all-encompassing will-to-know’. These animated maps place the viewer in a privileged position, and ‘smooth over’ the border’s various contradictions in an effort to present it as something that can be understood through a macro-level knowledge of geopolitical affairs (Toscano and Kinkle, 2015). In attempting to explain the issue of the border and Brexit using primarily map imagery these videos suggest that the various problems at hand can be understood and mastered on this macro-level, essentially undermining the relevance of detailed historical knowledge to these issues. Moreover, by focusing solely on the impact these issues might have on a national level, these videos also ignore the social reality of life in this region and the very real implications Brexit could have for the daily lives of communities on both sides of the border.
This is a problem pointed out by BBC Newsnight (2018) in their own analysis of the border issue, stating that ‘[t]he public tend to big views of the issue, rather than detailed ones. And yet the details will have a big effect on the kind of Brexit we adopt’. This BBC Newsnight piece falls in line with the second popular approach media outlets have to take to explain the border issue: that is, reporters visiting the border itself and interviewing citizens, politicians and business owners in relation to Brexit and its potential impact on NI and Ireland. BBC Newsnight, along with other news outlets such as The Guardian (2019), VICE News (2018) and France 24 English (2017), interview various individuals who live or work along the border to gain an insight into the impact Brexit might have on their daily lives. Moreover, these videos emphasise the fluid and invisible nature of the border, either by standing on unmarked bridges that divide Ireland and NI (BBC Newsnight and VICE News), or by driving along the border itself in order to depict the weaving in and out of countries that has become a daily occurrence for many (The Guardian, 2019). In this sense, these videos aim to make visible the invisibility of the border by pointing to its lack of definition. Moreover, by allowing locals to share their memories of the Troubles, such as those of violence or road closures, these videos aim to make palpable through memory the fear of a return to violence in this region.
However, this fear of a return to violence is predicated on that same violence having been largely eradicated as part of the ceasefire initiated by the Good Friday Agreement (Hall, 2018). Similarly, the invisibility of the border is also rooted in the political history of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) and the EU, which have endeavoured to establish and maintain peace in this region (O’Leary, 2018). How can both the invisibility of the border and the fear of a return to violence be accurately conveyed without an equal representation of the political and historical context that these experiences are rooted in? By focusing so much on the details, these videos largely fail to engage with the larger historical and political contexts that have reignited concerns over the future of this region. Furthermore, by attempting to condense these complex issues into short video segments and present them in a way that is aesthetically engaging for viewers, these videos also risk perpetuating the ‘problems of figuration’ outlined by Jameson (1988), in which the lived experience of the individual has become incongruous with the structures that govern it, and which conventional modes of representation cannot convey (p. 349). Following Jameson’s (1988) rationale, the ‘truth’ of experience in this border region no longer coincides with the region itself (p. 349), but rather is caught up in the broader realm of UK-wide politics, the global rise of the far-right, as well as with Britain’s former colonial empire and its history in Ireland. Thus, how can individual experience of the border be represented within the totalising historical and political structures that govern it?
Interactive border maps and archives
One possible approach to achieving this aesthetic can be found in the digital archives and interactive maps produced by the Border Road Memories project (BRM) and The Irish Time’s ‘Brexit Borderlands’ project (BB), which attempt to map and contextualise the issue of the border both in experiential, historical and political terms. Both archives feature interactive maps that chart the border’s various official and unofficial crossings and their respective roles in the violent history of this region. Both maps detail the number of violent incidents and fatalities that occurred at each of these crossings, providing a description of events where possible. The BRM map provides a recent photo of each border crossing, while BB links to a Google Maps Street View of each crossing as they exist today, thus contrasting the violent history of a hard border with its current fluidity. This emphasis on history is further highlighted by the BRM project, which features interviews with local individuals regarding their memories of different border crossings. These memories are complimented by archival photos of border crossings that were closed or blown up by the British Army during the Troubles, or with photos showing local communities attempting to re-open or re-build roads that had been closed. These archival photos link individual memory with historical artefacts, which in turn, link into the larger history of the border as it continues today. The BB’s ‘Keeping the Peace’ segment compares terrorist attacks and violence in NI to other fatal attacks across Europe, as well as in the US, between 1970 and 2017. BB also compares the border between Ireland and NI to Europe’s external land-border, noting in particular that while there are 208 official crossings between Ireland and NI, there are only 120 crossings along Europe’s eastern border. Contextualising the border in this manner allows for an understanding of how its history relates to that of Europe, and also helps to justify concerns over the future of this region by highlighting the severity of its violent past.
The BB archive also has a dedicated Brexit section which links to relevant articles on the progression of Brexit negotiations. Most notable here is the hyperlink structure of this archive, which is particularly important to its ability to reflect both the micro and macro aspects of the border issue. As noted by Zimmer (2009) in his analysis of hyperlinks and the structuring of knowledge, the hyperlinked structure of Web 2.0 is in many ways reminiscent of the renvois employed by Diderot and d’Alembert in their Encyclopédie. These renvois cross-referenced articles with one another, thus guiding the reader to ‘radical or subversive knowledge’ or providing a juxtaposition of ‘opposing ideas or arguments [in order to] expose concealed relationships’ (Zimmer, 2009: 103). These cross-references allow the reader to gain a new perspective on specific issues, and allowed the reader to find their own path to understanding. This, in turn, allowed the reader to become an integral part of the production of knowledge (Zimmer, 2009). Similarly, hypertext is an open-ended mode of navigation which allows the user to determine their own path based on their ‘needs and interests’ (Zimmer, 2009: 106). In this manner, the hyperlinked structure of the BB’s archive is itself reflective of the complex nature of the border, and not only allows users find their own path to understanding this issue, but also presents them with an experiential reference for this complexity, as they must also navigate an intricate series of interlinked nodes of information in order to piece together an understanding of the border issue. Most importantly, the BB archive itself links to the BRM project on several occasions, thus encouraging users to engage with the micro-level individualised experiences represented by this project in the hopes that it will assist in the BB’s own attempts to make sense of the border as it relates to Brexit.
Taking the archives and maps of both BB and BRM together provides an example of a spatial dialectic that may be able represent the complexity of Brexit and the border in a way that is cognisable for the individual. The combination of micro-level detail such as personal memories with macro-level knowledge regarding the political and economic realities of Brexit allows for a contextualisation of the personal within the totalising structures that define current political practice and social experience. Individual experiences are represented as constituent elements of the complex network of historical, political and social nodes that make up the issues of Brexit and the border, and through the hypertext structure of these archives this network can also be experienced and explored by the individual in way that makes their own place within its structures discernible. In particular, by linking the specificities of experiences of violence and political turmoil in NI to similar experiences in Europe and the US, these archives provide a point of comparison to individuals who may not have any direct relationship to the border but who may share similar experiences as part of the global political and economic order. This is in line with Jameson’s (1988) goal for an aesthetic of cognitive mapping in so far as it would allow the individual to understand their personal experiences as they are determined by ‘enormous global realities’ (p 350). In turn, an understanding of the structure of these global realities is intrinsic to imagining alternatives and solutions to the problems they present (Jameson, 1988). Unlike the previous audio-visual examples, which were geared too heavily towards either the simplification of geopolitical realities or the humanisation of complex political and economic issues, both BB and BRM embrace a network structure in order to explore and explain what is, in essence, an issue of intense network densification. If Brexit and the Irish-NI border issue are the result of the progressive intertwining of various historical, political, economic factors over time, then BB and BRM demonstrate that an effective means of tackling such a dense network of both global and local realities is to mimic the network itself.
Affective realities
While an understanding of these structures may assist in making the border issue more readily cognisable, one facet of this problem that cognitive mapping may prove incapable of conveying is that of the affective experiences of those impacted by this issue, in particular as they relate to fears surrounding the possible return to a hard border, and the threat of violence that comes with it. Understanding the problems surrounding the border and Brexit depends not only on a grasp of the political, historical and social networks that have shaped this issue, but also on an understanding of the historicity of feeling as it relates to these regions; that is, the affective reality of living in these regions, of having lived through this history, and of living with the uncertainty of a post-Brexit future. Williams’ (2015) concept of ‘structures of feeling’ is particularly relevant here in that it describes a collection of ‘meanings and values as they are actively lived and felt’, a social experience that is ongoing (p. 23). This concept is an attempt to capture the interplay between the ‘particular and the general’ as it exists in a specific historical moment (Best, 2012: 194). Interpreting the structures of feeling that define the contemporary experience of the border is an important aspect of understanding the affective implications of Brexit for this region, and may also assist in demonstrating how these structures of feeling relate to the broader affective experiences of the global capitalist subject.
The approach taken by Berlant (2011) in her book Cruel Optimism provides some indication of how these affective realities might be detected or conveyed. Berlant’s (2011) aim is to interrogate and understand attachments to the ‘good-life fantasy’ despite the crisis of ‘dissolving assurances’ that the contemporary subject is increasingly faced with in a liberal capitalist society (p. 3). ‘Cruel optimism’ is shorthand for our continued dedication to the fantasy of the good-life; our attachment to the social, economic and political structures that promise to make this fantasy real, but which simultaneously render it impossible to achieve (Berlant, 2011: 2). For Berlant (2011) aesthetics are central to any attempt to understand the conditions of living in this present of what she terms ‘crisis ordinariness’, which is characterised by a lack of progression, an ‘impasse’ (pp. 8, 9). Through an analysis of aesthetics Berlant (2011) aims to identify what is ‘collective about specific modes of sensual activity’ (p. 9). While for Jameson (1988) aesthetics is something ‘that addresses individual experience’ (p. 358), for Berlant (2011) aesthetics functions as a means of discerning what is communal in individual affective experience (p. 9), that is, how the particular is also representative of the general. If the dominant good-life fantasy of the border region is that of peace and banality as promised by the GFA, a promise that has been jeopardised by the very government charged with protecting it, how might aesthetic conventions be utilised to depict the affective reality of increasing social precarity under the grand impasse that is Brexit? As traditional genres wane in their relevance to contemporary experience, Berlant (2011) analyses the emergence of new genres that ‘mediate pressures of the present moment on the subject’s sensorium’ (pp. 6–9). One example of the possible generic conventions that have been employed to convey the affective reality of life in this region in the wake of Brexit can be seen in the popular Channel 4 sitcom Derry Girls (2018–Present).
Derry Girls, affect and the perpetual impasse
While the series itself is set in the Northern Irish city of Derry during the 1990s, and thus deals explicitly with life in NI during the Troubles, Derry Girls also provides several parallels with contemporary life in the border region and the uncertainty that hangs over its future. Most notable is the fact that throughout the series the violence and tension of the Troubles are constantly deferred, with everyday life continuing undeterred for the show’s teenage protagonists, whose main concerns revolve around school, relationships and boy-bands. For the citizens of Derry the violence of the Troubles, though lamentable, is more of an inconvenience than a threat. For example, when the Quinn family hear that a bridge has been closed off due to a bomb scare, we expect a serious reaction to the violent threat that this bomb represents. Yet Aunt Sarah (Kathy Kiera Clarke) is instead worried that she might miss her tanning appointment. When we hear Ma Mary (Tara Lynne O’Neill) express her frustration at ‘[w]aiting week after week hoping today might be the day, but always disappointed’, we expect her grievances to aimed towards thwarted efforts at achieving peace in the region, yet she is actually upset that the town of Strabane has introduced wheelie bins before Derry. The show plays on the audience’s knowledge of the Troubles, setting up expectations for violence yet consistently deferring them throughout the series, focusing instead on the relatively normal lives of its teenage protagonists. The threat of violence always lingers, yet life continues as normal.
Similarly, life continues to go on as normal for communities in this region despite the threats of a hard Brexit, a hard border and violence that linger beneath the surface of everyday life. This uncertainty is best articulated in the final episode of the series’ second season, which ends with a recreation of Bill Clinton’s historic address to the city of Derry, and encapsulates the promise of peace that the GFA entailed. As Clinton calls on his audience to ‘believe that the future can be better than the past’, the present uncertainty and precarity of the border region are highlighted, in particular as the future of NI has become increasingly difficult to contemplate. Despite the fragile peace that the GFA has engendered, it would seem that life in this region has been defined by a permanent kind of impasse, where the threat of violence always remains, and whereby by the goal of reconciliation declared by the GFA can never be fully realised. In spite of the optimism of Clinton’s address, Derry Girls demonstrates that the future is just as precarious as the past, and that life in this region remains marred by a simultaneous sense of anxious uncertainty and optimistic faith regarding its future.
This dualism is best captured through the series’ comedic address, which serves to suppress anxieties surrounding political and religious tensions in the region, using humour to subdue these concerns in order to foster instead a light-hearted optimism and sense of normalcy. Moreover, through its focus on the past Derry Girls is able to bypass the complicated and ever-changing nature of Brexit and the border issue, and concentrate instead on the affective reality of life in this region, which is characterised by a deep-rooted and persistent anxiety over the future and the possible resurgence of violence. Derry Girls articulates a kind of helpless hopefulness; a defiant optimism about the future despite the knowledge that the good-life promised by the GFA is no closer to becoming reality than it was in 1997. Life in this region goes on as normal, and yet this normalcy is itself characterised by a perpetual impasse, the inability to move beyond the mere promise of peace and normalcy. Derry Girls gives an insight into the kind of precarious and potentially violent futures that could lie in store for communities along the border post-Brexit. Most importantly, however, Derry Girls conveys a sense of the affective experience of living in the border region in the wake of the Brexit vote and the uncertainty it has generated. Much like the representation of violence in Derry Girls, Brexit and its potential implications for the border region are constantly deferred, as Theresa May had repeatedly failed to secure support for Brexit deal, thus leading to a delay in the UK’s exit from the EU (Lyons et al., 2019). Fiction, as argued by Rancière (2004), is particularly useful as a means of understanding history, including the history of the present, as it rearranges signs and images to produce ‘effects in reality’ and defines ‘regimes of sensible intensity’ (p. 35). For Rancière (2004) fiction has the capacity to ‘modify [. . .] the ways in which groups of people adhere to a condition, react to situations, [and] recognise their images’ (p. 35). In a similar manner, Derry Girls can be seen to encourage its audience to recognise themselves in the world of the show and to share in the affective reality of life in Derry during the Troubles. In doing so, Derry Girls is able to provide for its viewers a new depth of meaning and understanding regarding the uncertain future that Brexit holds in store for these communities. By sharing in these affective experiences viewers may also be able to draw parallels with their own experiences of precarity and uncertainty as subjects of the dominant capitalist structure.
Conclusion
Understanding the problem of Brexit and the border was never going to be a straightforward task. As demonstrated, the issue itself is caught up in much broader questions of international politics and the global economy, as well as being firmly rooted in the shared and contentious history of Ireland, NI and the Great Britain. Moreover, making sense of the border issue requires making sense of the conundrum of Brexit and its ramifications for global and local networks that span different political, economic and social spectra. The interactive maps and archives of BB and BRM have gone some way towards offering a thorough analysis of the border issue, one in which individual experience can be located within the vast global networks that define contemporary political, social and economic processes. Moreover, through a combination of archival footage, interactive maps and personal memories these projects are able to make cognisable this invisible border and the many local and global networks it conceals. However, what these projects lack is an articulation of the affective experience of the border region, in which the uncertainty surrounding Brexit and its impact on the future of this region is a constant presence in the daily lives of local communities. Understanding the border issue and working towards solutions to it also involves understanding the affective implications of Brexit, in particular as they relate to the violent history of this region.
Derry Girls is an example of how narrative can be employed to convey both the historical and contemporaneous affective realities of this region, in particular by emphasising the political and social impasses that have continued to shape the lives of local communities. In this manner the series is able to make palpable another invisible aspect of the border issue; the affective reality of life in this region as it relates to both its troubled history and the unpredictable implications of Brexit. In a political environment increasingly defined by appeals to emotionality (Breeze, 2019), the utilisation of narrative affect may provide positive opportunities for political engagement in its ability to offer new affective dimensions of understanding to contemporary political issues. While Jameson’s concept of cognitive mapping is advantageous in its desire to make cognisable the social totality, this paper argues that efforts to both de-alienate and re-politicise the individual cannot be achieved through an aesthetic of cognitive mapping alone. Rather, through an exploration of the representative and affective possibilities presented by narrative, this paper hopes to have demonstrated that the representation of affective realities is equally pertinent to the realisation of an aesthetic that would allow the individual to orient themselves within this dominant world order and recognise the need for political action. An affect-oriented aesthetic of cognitive mapping would allow us to now only make sense of the totalising structures that define our respective realities, but would also allow us to recognise ourselves in the struggles of others. Understanding the issue of the border, and finding workable solutions to it, requires a recognition that rather than being an isolated problem, it is in fact symptomatic of the precarity and uncertainty that have come to define the experiences of the global capitalist subject.
