ve referred to him contemptuously
as a "West Briton." But this is really unfair; for whatever Mr. Shaw's
mental faults may be, the easy adoption of an unmeaning phrase like
"Briton" is certainly not one of them. It would be much nearer the truth
to put the thing in the bold and bald terms of the old Irish song, and
to call him "The anti-Irish Irishman." But it is only fair to say that
the description is far less of a monstrosity than the anti-English
Englishman would be; because the Irish are so much stronger in
self-criticism. Compared with the constant self-flattery of the
English, nearly every Irishman is an anti-Irish Irishman. But here again
popular phraseology hits the right word. This fairly educated and fairly
wealthy Protestant wedge which is driven into the country at Dublin and
elsewhere is a thing not easy superficially to summarise in any term. It
cannot be described merely as a minority; for a minority means the part
of a nation which is conquered. But this thing means something that
conquers, and is not entirely part of a nation. Nor can one even fall
back on the phrase of aristocracy. For an aristocracy implies at least
some chorus of snobbish enthusiasm; it implies that some at least are
willingly led by the leaders, if only towards vulgarity and vice. There
is only one word for the minority in Ireland, and that is the word that
public phraseology has found; I mean the word "Garrison." The Irish are
essentially right when they talk as if all Protestant Unionists lived
inside "The Castle." They have all the virtues and limitations of a
literal garrison in a fort. That is, they are valiant, consistent,
reliable in an obvious public sense; but their curse is that they can
only tread the flagstones of the court-yard or the cold rock of the
ramparts; they have never so much as set their foot upon their native
soil.

We have considered Bernard Shaw as an Irishman. The next step is to
consider him as an exile from Ireland living in Ireland; that, some
people would say, is a paradox after his own heart. But, indeed, such a
complication is not really difficult to expound. The great religion and
the great national tradition which have persisted for so many centuries
in Ireland have encouraged these clean and cutting elements; but they
have encouraged many other things which serve to balance them. The Irish
peasant has these qualities which are somewhat peculiar to Ireland, a
strange purity and a strange pugnacity