Article by Rebel News staff

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Written by Rebel News Staff

Yesterday, my videographer Efrain and I drove across the entire country of Ireland — all the way down to Cork on the southwest coast.

Truckers, farmers, and bus drivers have blockaded highways, ports, and key intersections all across Ireland to protest the government's punishing fuel taxes — and so far, the government is refusing to back down.

The reason we went to Cork is simple: it's home to Ireland's only operating refinery. The one producing diesel, jet fuel, the works. And it is blockaded.

Our GPS kept rerouting us around blockade after blockade, adding ten minutes, then twenty, then more — and we finally pulled up to a group of lads who had shut down a major highway entirely. We got out, had a good chat, and told them we were from Rebel News and wanted to tell their story. They moved the blockade just for us. We drove onto that enormous highway, and because of the blockades, we literally had it all to ourselves.

And filling up the rental car at a petrol station? That was the equivalent of $200 Canadian. For a regular car. The truckers and farmers I spoke with told me their fill-ups run close to $1,000 Canadian per tank — and the government refuses to budge on fuel taxes, even as the conflict in the Middle East continues to drive oil prices higher.

What really struck me about this protest, compared to Canada's trucker convoy, was the unanimity.

The COVID mandates were divisive — there were Canadians who genuinely believed the jabs should be mandatory and that the truckers were a danger. You can disagree with that, but the division existed. High fuel taxes? I have never in my life met a single human being who said, "Yes, I'd like to pay more tax on fuel." Every single Irish person — the customs officer at Dublin Airport, the rental car agent, the people stuck in traffic because of the blockades — they all support this.

And the police? At every single blockade — every single one — I asked the men what the Gardáí were saying. The answer was the same every time: the police told them to carry on. 

So far, it's nothing like the menace we saw descend on Ottawa. But I've seen this before. In the early days in Ottawa, the police were smiling and cheering along too — until the politicians got embarrassed enough to start reaching for the emergency powers.

There's something else I want to tell you about the Irish.

When you spend a day driving around talking to farmers and truckers, you notice the banter. The camaraderie. The irreverence and the humor. It reminds me of the Newfoundlanders back home — that sense that you're in an extended family, all of whom have decided, simultaneously and spontaneously, that this is the hill they're standing on. Ireland is a small country, geographically and in population, and that cohesion is a powerful thing.

I'll be honest: I'm also worried. Ireland's democracy has been compromised.

The media here is almost completely in the tank for the regime, just like in Canada. When democracy fails, and the media fails, people take things into their own hands. 

That's what's happening on these roads right now. If the politicians decide to crack down the way Trudeau did — with military vehicles, seized bank accounts, and solitary confinement for peaceful protesters — I genuinely don't think it will end the same way it did in Canada. The Irish have a different history. A different character.

We're going to keep following this story as long as it takes. If you'd like to help cover the cost of our reporting — the last-minute flights, the car, the hotels — I'd be deeply grateful. Please consider chipping in at www.TheTruthAboutIreland.com. Unlike RTÉ, we don't take a cent from any government — which is exactly why we can stand here and tell you what's actually happening.