There is no way for NI to remain in the EU after Brexit. Alternatives exist, but they all come at a price.

Last week, Kevin O’Rourke wrote in the Irish Times:

It is logically coherent, if lunatic, to argue that Ireland should quit the EU and join the UK customs union. (Leaving the EU would on its own obviously not suffice to avoid a North-South border: our exit from the EU would have to be of the red, white, and blue variety.)

It is also logically coherent to argue that Northern Ireland should remain within the EU, and I wish it would. That seems like something worth arguing for. But it is logically incoherent to argue that if we remain in the EU and its customs union, and the North leaves both, there can be some special deal that will avoid the need for a customs frontier on the island.

Those who say Ireland should leave the EU know they are in a small minority. Many will not come out and argue for their position particularly strongly for fear of being laughed out of court. The evidence that our prosperity is based on EU membership is overwhelming. Still, expect them, in the months and years ahead, to claim that the return of a customs frontier somehow shows that “the EU” has let Ireland down.

The Brexit campaign shows that such dishonesty can pay. Which is why it is so important that everyone understand that if the North leaves the EU and its customs union, and we remain inside it, there is nothing that the EU or anyone else can do to prevent the return of such a frontier.

The article suffers from muddled thinking when it proposes solutions though. It is not legally possible for NI to remain in the EU while it also remains part of a post Brexit UK. Only sovereign states are members of the EU. This is not a matter of geographical exemptions. It is a matter of political representation, sovereignty and treaty law.

The Greenland precedent is not helpful – in that case Greenland gained an exemption from EU law while the sovereign state (Denmark) remained a member. If that were to be applied to Brexit, then England, Scotland and Wales would have an exemption from the EU while the UK as a whole remained a member, but only in order to represent the people of NI. Such an arrangement would be preposterous.

NI could remain de facto part of the single market but only by a) breaking the UK internal market instead and b) submitting to fax democracy, where NI would have its laws written for it in the EU without any representation at the table (short of what the Irish government might provide gratis). This would require all EU competencies to be devolved to NI, including employment and immigration law. It would likely also require full fiscal autonomy. This would not be devolution, but something closer to Gibraltar-style internal autonomy. Given how deeply the Irish government would then be embedded in the domestic legislative process, it would probably be both simpler and more honest to just have a united Ireland. At least in that scenario, EU agricultural and structural subsidies would continue (but the block grant would vanish).

An easier sell would be to keep NI de facto inside the EU customs union by shifting the RoI’s customs frontier to Larne. This would be an arrangement similar to that of Monaco, which has no official treaty with the EU, but which by bilateral agreement allows France to treat Monaco’s sea border as a French border for all practical purposes. This of course means that the UK’s internal customs union would be severed instead, but such arrangements have precedent. Büsingen am Hochrhein is a small exclave of Germany entirely surrounded by Switzerland, and has long been treated as part of Switzerland for customs purposes. Whether this would be sufficient to save the cross-border economy would depend on how generous and how quickly the new EU/UK free trade deal turns out (don’t hold your breath).

The big unknown is the Common Travel Area. It is just possible that the EU may allow it to continue with the current spot check enforcement regime, considering that the UK’s immigration law is likely to be stricter than the EU’s for the foreseeable future. But this would require a generous helping of goodwill from all sides. Alternatively, it may be possible to move the RoI’s hard immigration frontier to Larne.

None of the above are cost-free options. The emotional cost to Unionists in particular would be heavy no matter what sort of deal is struck, but any arrangement that keeps an open border would surely be cheaper and less disruptive than the default alternative.

A united Ireland is as far off as ever, for the usual well-worn reasons. That may change if after Brexit the UK decides to alter economic policy to NI’s disadvantage (e.g. by cutting agricultural subsidies) or if Indyref2 comes to pass. But NI is still incapable of supporting itself, and it is proportionately less of a burden on London than it would be on Dublin (which is still in primary deficit, let us not forget).

The best case scenario for Ireland (north and south) remains for Brexit to magically go away. But barring a political upset of Canadian proportions that’s a pipe dream.

(This post was first published on Facebook, and then on Slugger)

The flaxen revolution

I find myself in the unaccustomed, even uncomfortable position of agreeing with Jamie Bryson. This may be because in a democratic system at least some of the people are happy, while an undemocratic system is offensive to everyone except those in power (and in the case of NI, perhaps not even them).

NI is not a democracy, and grafting standard-issue “democratic institutions” on top of the current state of society will not magically make it one – we had those before in Old Stormont and it did not work. There are preconditions for majority rule to succeed as a democratic system – the willingness of voters to hold the elected to account by withholding or changing their vote; the commitment of the elected to act in the interest of those who did not vote for them; the resolve of both electors and elected to submit to the rule of law and uphold it impartially. None of these conditions prevailed in 1922 and few of them prevail today.

All this is well understood. What is less well understood is that the current system is not a route out of the undemocratic rut but merely a different, less violent rut. We must ask ourselves what we are trying to build – is it a society where power changes hands in the polling booth and the strong are accountable to the weak? Or is it merely a society where anyone likely to make trouble is kept placated with the spoils of office? We have achieved the latter, but seem as far away as ever from the former.

The usual argument against majority rule in NI is that the communal parties can’t be trusted with sole power, an argument given force by history. It is clear that whatever comes after must include safeguards against abuse of power at least as strong as the ones we have today. Those who wish to abolish mandatory coalition have proposed several alternatives, none entirely satisfactory. The most common are weighted or dual majorities, which require a majority of the entire Assembly and a minimum percentage of each community in order for a bill to pass (and in some variants, for the Executive to be elected). The problem comes when that minimum percentage is defined. Too low, and it raises the prospect that one particular party could be ganged up on and excluded forever, even if it were the largest single party. Too high, and it looks little different from mandatory coalition. It is not clear if a sweet spot exists, or if such a system would be sufficiently radical to be worth the effort.

The problem in all these proposals is that they treat the symptoms rather than the cause. Sectarian violence, cultural conflict and ethnic nationalism are far from unique problems – most countries have suffered to some degree from the same. What makes the few hard cases such as NI, Bosnia, and Lebanon special is the way these problems have so comprehensively infiltrated the political system. In each case, structures have been created to manage the symptoms of a dysfunctional politics – but the relationship between the system and its participants runs both ways. We soon find that because the structures of state have been shaped to fit the dysfunctional, only the dysfunctional fit into them.

On paper, there is little wrong with the Assembly as it stands. Everyone is represented, everyone gets a turn, nobody is excluded – and business can still continue if the participants are willing to compromise. The problem is prima facie not with the rules, but the players. However, there is little incentive for parties to compromise when the system rewards brinkmanship and extremism, so maybe the problem really is with the rules.

If we look at how Stormont differs from other, more successful systems, we see that the main innovations are motivated by the desire to prevent exclusion of one ethno-national grouping by another. This is understandable, as this is exactly the problem Old Stormont had, and the one that nationalists in particular still rightly fear. But it leaves as an unstated assumption that ethno-national groupings and political parties are more or less the same thing – and this is a peculiarly NI phenomenon. If we compare to the USA, where the treatment of the black minority was incomparably more brutal than anything dreamed up under unionist rule, we do not see a “black party” in permanent conflict with a “white party”. There may be imbalances in the percentages of different ethnic groups in the political parties, but these are as much a reflection of socioeconomic status as they are of identity. Before the Democrat Barack Obama, the most successful black politician in America was the Republican Colin Powell. The progress of black politicians is a bipartisan success story, and it is also in many ways a colour-blind one. Obama’s voting demographic was correlated with ethnic origin, but by nowhere near the degree we have come to expect in North Belfast.

Of course, black Americans do not seek the overthrow of the state. But if the polls are to be believed, neither do most Irish Nationalists. And in any case this in itself cannot be the reason for NI’s special problems, because Lebanon has no significant separatist movement and still suffered an ethno-religious civil war far worse than ours.

The common thread that separates Lebanon, Bosnia and ourselves from the US and other countries that are making progress with their divided past is the primacy of identity politics over practical considerations. Catholic Unionists and Protestant Shinners do exist, but they remain remarkable exceptions. Half-hearted “outreach” attempts are undertaken not in the hope of converting the doubtful, but of soothing those whose consciences are troubled by this obvious lack of progress.

Any attempt to fix NI must address this immovable object. Removing the Border from the competency of the Assembly was supposed to make normal politics possible. It did not. The constitutional question “went away”, but the parties merely found something else to fight over. Identity politics abhors a vacuum – no doubt if Westminster took flags and emblems off the hands of local politicians, they’d find some other reason to despise each other.

Because it’s not about the Border. It’s not about the flag, or a parade, or the Irish language. These things are excuses, rationalisations, bedtime stories we tell ourselves to make our own fears sound less preposterous. Greater problems have been solved over dinner and cigars. We can’t stand to make common cause with each other because in our gut we know we are still sharing a small box with someone, some thing that once hurt us. This is not going to be solved quickly. But we can make a conscious, rational decision to stop picking at the scab and making it worse.

The long term solution is the integration of our divided society. This will take generations, and it would be foolish to prejudge the details of the world that our grandchildren will build without us. The most important, the only important condition is that it is a whole society, where tales of unionists and nationalists are as misty and abstract as those of roundheads and cavaliers, and where children have to search the archives to discover which sides their ancestors were on.

The short term solution is to cut the Gordian knot of mutual suspicion and veto so that we can at least take the first steps. The current Assembly couldn’t even agree to save itself a fortune by merging two teacher training colleges, so there is no hope of it ever addressing an actual problem. Despite their protestations, the communal parties are too comfortable where they are right now, because getting where they are right now did not require them to grow, or learn. When SF and the DUP had a problem working together they fiddled the system so that they could avoid doing anything really difficult, such as voting for the same First Minister.

No, change is not going to come from within the Assembly – at least not with the current balance of parties. The first alternative is for the governments, perhaps again with the help of the Americans, to step in and impose order upon chaos. This seems unlikely, given the increasing signs of crisis fatigue amongst outsiders. And in the long term, this would perpetuate the infantilisation of NI, where the locals can’t be relied upon to sort themselves out and so will require feeding, changing and babysitting indefinitely. The other alternative is change imposed from below, from the electorate. But with turnout approaching 50% and new political parties failing to make headway, the only outlet remaining would appear to be the street.

And here I find myself agreeing with Bryson again, although for different reasons. Street politics comes in a variety of forms – sometimes joyful, sometimes angry, sometimes from the margins of society and sometimes pouring from every door and window. Sometimes the only way to fix a stagnant, failing system is with the collective will of millions. Sometimes all we need to do great things is the courage that comes from knowing that we are not alone. Sometimes society needs a little bit of revolution. A joyous, multi-coloured revolution.

A flaxen revolution?

We assumed the EU’s enemies were all internal. We were wrong.

There seem to be two main narratives of the Ukrainian conflict doing the rounds in the Western media. On one extreme is the thesis that Putin is determined on expanding Russian territory. On the other, his actions are a logical and understandable response to the reckless expansion of NATO. Neither of these is quite true.

Crimea aside, Putin has resisted officially expanding the territory of the Russian Federation. The separatist statelets of Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transdnistria have each asked to be admitted to the federation only to be politely ignored. The military logic of this is impeccable: the cost of incorporating and defending territory is unnecessary if the same aims can be achieved by sowing chaos. Better to keep one’s neighbours worried enough that they don’t want to provoke you, but not worried enough that they act decisively against you. The ideal outcome from Russia’s point of view is a near-abroad of buffer states that know their place in the pecking order, and for nearly two decades that’s more or less what it had.

We instinctively understand that military alliances are threatening, and it’s tempting therefore to point the finger at NATO. But to blame NATO for upsetting the balance is disingenuous. The Yushchenko government suggested in 2008 that it might join NATO, and was rebuffed after Russia (understandably) objected. The post-Maidan government initially made clear that it had no intention of repeating that mistake. NATO membership was overwhelmingly unpopular in Ukraine before the Crimean crisis, polling consistently under 20%. The threat to Russia came not from NATO, but from the EU.

Unlike NATO, the EU is consistently popular in Ukraine. The catalyst for the Maidan protests was the choice of the government to abandon a long-promised free trade agreement with the EU in favour of a Russian counterproposal. Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan, three of the five largest post-Soviet economies, had recently agreed to create the Eurasian Economic Union (EEU), a rival economic bloc to the EU with two distinct advantages for Putin: Russian hegemony and fewer restrictions on the exercise of state power.

Ukraine, Moldova, Georgia and Armenia were all close to signing free trade agreements with the EU when the EEU counter-offers started coming in. Armenia was persuaded to switch, but as the second largest economy after Russia itself, Ukraine was the real objective. When the Ukrainian people chose the EU over Russia, it not only stunted the viability of the EEU project, but also spurned what most Russians assumed was still a uniquely special friendship, even despite a decade of increasing political distance between the two countries. (The English and the Scots would surely understand.)

Ukraine is uniquely important to Russia economically. Since Soviet times, the industrial supply chain has straddled the border. Ukraine’s Donbass region relies heavily on Russian customers, and the military is one of the largest. With their relationship now probably damaged beyond repair, Ukraine and Russia have been working furiously to disentangle their economies – the most likely explanation for the mysteriously half-empty aid convoys is that they had enough capacity to asset strip entire factories and transport key machinery back to Russia. If this is true, then it demonstrates Russia has understood that it has lost Ukraine to the EU economically. But this has only increased its determination to salvage what it can and keep NATO out. The differing levels of outside commitment in Ukraine prove that Russia still claims a military sphere of influence, and NATO has little intention of challenging it.

Crimea was taken because it was easy, because it was strategic, because the Ukrainians know (even if they won’t admit) that they’ll never get it back, and because that’s what happens when you cross the wrong people. Unlike the other post-Soviet frozen conflicts, Crimea had to be annexed – Sevastopol is far too precious to be left in the hands of amateurs. The Donbass rebellion was facilitated to keep the Ukrainians tied down fighting a second insurrection while Russia quietly consolidated the first one. Now that a frozen conflict has been successfully engineered in the east, nobody is going to suggest an armed liberation of Crimea in the face of a hostile populace.

This leaves Ukraine in a nasty position – economically and politically committed to the EU, but militarily overshadowed by old-school Russian hard power. It also reminds us that the EU is not expanding into a vacuum. We have always thought about European integration as if it were a contract, where the only countries that matter are the contracting parties, and any agreement between them would naturally have the blessing of the world. The only enemies of European integration in this scenario are internal factions who disagree with their own government’s policy. The worst reaction we ever received from a third country was jealousy.

We now know that this was complacent. There is an external enemy of European integration, and he sits in the Kremlin. Some countries have decided for themselves that they don’t want to be involved in the EU project. Putin has decided that he doesn’t want other people’s countries being involved in the EU project. He has his own alternative, and clear ideas about who should be a member of which one. Talk of a new Iron Curtain is overblown, but there is an increasingly clear demarcation between the EU and Russian spheres of influence.

Dictionary definitions

Sir,

Darach MacDonald (June 12th) makes a spirited defence of the dictionary definition of “unionism”, and rightly points out that purity of blood is a fiction in the modern world. But culture is not transmitted through the genes, and anyone observing an Orange parade should be left in no doubt of the existence of “unionist” culture.

The constitutional question is far from the “single common identifying policy” that unites Unionist political parties. Support for monarchism, the Orange Order and Scottish cultural heritage, together with disdain for the Irish language, Gaelic sports and (historically) the Catholic church have long been commonly held positions. None of these follow automatically from the dictionary definition, so the dictionary definition must be incomplete.

It is unfortunate that a political term has come to have a non-political meaning. “Protestant” is equally inaccurate, and “Hun” is potentially offensive. But whatever name we decide to use, most people understand it to mean more than just a single policy position. It also identifies a distinct, shared worldview that can be difficult to fully appreciate from the outside, leading to a gulf in understanding that perpetuates conflict.

It has never been just about the Border.

Yours,

Andrew Gallagher

The ethnic basis of “Unionism” and “Nationalism”

Seems I’m on a roll. I wrote another letter to the Irish Times…

Sir,

Cian Carlin (June 10th) repeats one of the cardinal errors of Irish politics when he reduces “Unionism” to a mere political preference. The divisions in Northern Ireland span not only politics but also culture, religion, history and ancestry. “Unionist” and “Nationalist” have become shorthand names for Ulster-British and Gaelic-Irish ethnic groups, each with their distinct mythology and cultural norms. Pretending that a word when uttered by someone else means only that which you would prefer it to mean is dishonest and serves only to derail the argument.

To believe that one ceases to become “Unionist” if one votes for a United Ireland is to reduce the entirety of a culture to a single issue. If changing your mind about a particular policy also implies wholesale abandonment of your culture and history, then it is no wonder that Northern Ireland politics is so dysfunctional. For too long we have pretended that a struggle for ethnic supremacy is a mere political disagreement, perhaps because we fear the implications of admitting that our problems are not amenable to quick fix solutions.

More thoughtful politicians and commentators prefer to use “pro-union” for the political viewpoint in order to clearly distinguish it from cultural “Unionism”. It is quite possible to mix and match political and cultural labels – there is a distinct body of “Unionist” opinion that would prefer an independent Northern Ireland state, and many “Nationalists” are content to be part of the UK.

So many fruitless arguments hinge on the misinterpretation of ambiguous terms. Just as “Ireland” can mean either the 32-county island or the 26-county republic, so can “Unionism” and “Nationalism” have multiple, distinct meanings depending on context. Debates devolve into slanging matches where opponents aim their rage past each other, each using the same words but meaning different things by them.

Perhaps it’s time we stopped using the words “Unionism” and “Nationalism” altogether, as they seem to create more confusion than enlightenment.

Yours,

Andrew Gallagher

In praise of secular education

I wrote a letter to the Irish Times today.

Sir,

Patrick Davey (May 30th) claims the right to have his children educated in a religious school. This is as unattainable a “right” as the right to live in a religious town, or to work in a religious factory. A “right” that can only be realised if others are denied their own rights is no right at all. The idea that the majority have more “rights” than minorities do is tyranny, and the removal of a right through effective unavailability is as much a violation as if it were explicitly denied in law.

Secular education is compulsory, and religious education cannot be. By conflating the roles of state school and church school we have created inequality between those of the majority faith and those of other faiths or none. The only way to respect everyone’s rights equally is to separate the roles of Church and State, leaving schools to teach a full secular curriculum to all regardless of faith, and allowing each church to supplement this with its own particular teachings outside school hours as parents wish and free from state interference.

Separation of Church and State is not an attack on religion. It releases everyone, religious and irreligious alike, from the shackles of pretence and hypocrisy. People of faith should follow the example of their brethren other countries and embrace a secular state as the means of their own liberation.

Russian special forces caught red handed on camera

Russia continues to deny that it has armed forces in Crimea, but it was only a matter of time before someone slipped up. Not only do the mysterious “self-defence forces” use Russian guns, uniforms and vehicles (complete with Russian military number plates) but at least one of them has forgotten to take all the identifying labels off his army uniform (Russian language original), leading to a social media profile naming his special forces unit.

Of course Putin doesn’t expect us to believe him. His plausible deniability is entirely for domestic consumption. His own polls show disapproval of his current actions running at an unprecedented 73%. Russians have no appetite for a shooting war with Ukraine, with whose citizens many have close personal and family ties. With chinks starting to show in his story, how long can Putin keep domestic opposition at bay?

(With thanks to @captsolo for the tip)

Anthem anathema

My letter in the Irish Times today. Spelling mistakes all mine, unfortunately.

Sir, – John B Reid seems to be labouring under the mistaken impression that the Irish rugby team is the national team of the Republic of Ireland. If this were the case, then it would be only proper for Amhrán na bFiann to be played at all matches, irrespective of location. But it is not.
As with many other sports, rugby is organised on an all-Ireland basis and the Irish team is not just the team of the Republic, nor even of Irish nationalists, but of the island of Ireland as a whole. Ambiguity between the island and the State is a constant cause of controversy, but the IRFU has correctly recognised that Irish rugby draws support from all traditions on the island.
The current policy that Ireland’s Call be played at away matches is entirely proper, as it reflects the cross-jurisdictional nature of the sport and does not favour one jurisdiction over another. To play the anthem of the Republic in addition at away games would reintroduce politics into a sport that has made a virtue of remaining above the constitutional question.
Amhrán na bFiann is played at home games in the Republic in honour of the State. The only inconsistency in this policy is that no State anthem is played in Belfast, which implies that games in Ravenhill are not “home” games. The honourable solution to this inequity is to play Danny Boy at Ravenhill in the same capacity that Amhrán na bFiann is played in Lansdowne Road’s Aviva Stadium.
Whether or not one finds Ireland’s Call sufficiently rousing, it performs a vital function in keeping divisive politics out of Irish sport. – Yours, etc,
ANDREW GALLAGHER,
Trimbleston,
Dublin 14

Bad Samaritans

When I was a university student, a friend and I came home on the train one weekend. The train station in Portadown is situated at the infamous “tunnel”, a pair of low road and railway bridges forming one of the town’s main interface areas. This particular evening was quiet, so there was nobody else around when we came out the pedestrian entrance and turned to walk under the road.

Under the bridge, we saw one man probably in his late twenties beating up another, who was sitting on the ground and making little effort to defend himself. The victim saw us and made eye contact, and pleaded for help.

We walked past and ignored the scene.

Immediately we left the tunnel, we turned to one another and started questioning our actions. We should have helped him. Yes, we should. But we kept walking. When we reached the main street, we flagged down a police car and sent them to the scene. I have no idea what happened next – whether we were quick enough, whether the perpetrator got away. I don’t remember the incident appearing in the local news.

We have never since discussed the incident. I can’t speak for my friend, but I know why I haven’t.

I am ashamed.

Neither of us were ever particularly physical or sporty. We were nice middle-class boys who rarely got involved in fights. Either one of us would have stood little chance against an angry skinhead. Neither of us wanted to get the other one in trouble.

But if we’d had the guts and the attitude, together we probably could have bluffed him. If we’d walked straight up and asked him what the fuck he was doing, the likelihood is that it would have ended in a stalemate and all four people would have walked away.

That’s what I tell myself anyway. I tell myself that all the time.

This week, we are all bad samaritans. The local skinhead is beating up his neighbour for some reason or another. The history is too complicated for most to understand, and it’s easy to find excuses for inaction. But the principle is exactly the same.

I am of course talking about Vladimir Putin. He has form (Georgia 2008) and an often-stated nostalgia for the glory days of the Soviet Union. He knows he will never get it back, but that just makes it worse – all bullies are born from insecurity and a phobia of weakness.

While the West prevaricates, Putin merrily does whatever he pleases. We are weary of war, and cynical of the motives of our own leaders. Putin survives on his reputation as a strong man who will return his people to greatness. He sees us all as cowards. But all that is required is for the neighbourhood to gang up on the local bully and put him in his place. Putin would not risk open war; it would be the end of his career. Russia hasn’t been a great power for many years and Russia would lose. Yes, he has nukes but Putin is a rational man. He is not Kim Jong Un.

The longer we leave it, the worse he will get. This is our Sudetenland.

The Charter of Statehood

States tend to operate on the assumption that they are eternal – so they don’t normally have exit clauses – and can be neurotic about their territorial integrity. The debate over Scottish independence, and its future relations with the EU, has demonstrated once again that an agreed mechanism is required to gently manage the death of states. The attitude of Spanish politicians in particular towards a potentially independent Scotland is motivated not by concern for Scots welfare, but by fear of setting a Caledonian-Catalonian precedent. No matter what one’s views on Scottish independence, the idea that Scotland should be held hostage to a dispute between third parties should be abhorrent.

There follows a modest proposal for a Charter of Statehood, which should be adopted by the member states of the EU. It provides an orderly process for regional secession, combined with a promise by existing powers to act generously in their relations with newly-independent states. In particular, it commits regional bodies to keeping a secessionist state within the fold – for example an independent Scotland (or Catalonia) would be entitled to near-automatic membership of the EU.

It is intentionally limited, and provides for unilateral secession as only one of several options – the intent being that the existence of such a safety valve will normally be sufficient to dissuade brinksmanship. It deliberately does not cover redrawing boundaries to arbitrary levels of precision – unilateral secession can only take place on the basis of existing local government units and only after the formation of a functioning autonomous state on the seceding territory. The final clause commits states to refrain from abolishing local government units for the sole purpose of thwarting secession. The language is also drafted to be portable – it applies equally to the breakup of an autonomous region within a federal state as it does to secession within the EU.

The Charter

  1. For the purposes of this charter, a “state” is a jurisdiction with a body of constitutional law, and both legislative and executive competence over its internal affairs. It need not be sovereign under international law, and may be part of a larger containing state, e.g. a federation.
  2. A state may dissolve itself into multiple states through its own processes. Each new state shall have the right to retain membership of overarching bodies, and these bodies shall provide an equitable mechanism for integrating each new state into their structures as a member of equal standing without undue hindrance or delay.
  3. Two or more states may merge into a combined state by mutual consent, as expressed through their internal processes. The combined state shall have the right to retain membership of any mutually overarching bodies, and these bodies shall update their structures to take account of the union in an equitable manner without undue delay.
  4. A state of more than two years’ standing may unilaterally declare independence from a containing state through its own processes. The containing state shall facilitate such a declaration, however it may impose a reasonable and proportionate transition procedure. The leaving state shall have the right to retain membership of overarching bodies, and these bodies shall provide an equitable mechanism for integrating the state into their structures as a member of equal standing without undue hindrance or delay.
  5. One or more local government areas may individually or collectively declare themselves a state by adopting a constitution through simple ballot of their electorates. Such a constitution must be consistent with both the ECHR and this charter. The containing state shall provide a mechanism to hold such a ballot if a significant fraction of public opinion is shown to be in favour, but may impose reasonable and proportional restrictions on the frequency, timing and conditions of the ballot. Those local government units whose electorates pass a common constitution shall have the right to form a new state on their collective territory subject to that constitution. The containing state shall provide a mechanism for integrating the new state into its structures as an autonomous jurisdiction without undue hindrance or delay.
  6. States shall provide a system of local government with boundaries and functions based on objective economic, social and geographic criteria, while taking due account of the views of the electorate. Local government boundaries must not be altered for the purposes of thwarting the declaration of a state.