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How Northern Ireland’s supermarket aisles have become another Brexit battleground

Brexit and the sea border have dragged all aspects of trade with Northern Ireland into the zero-sum game of traditional politics

Reports suggest consumers thought the 'Not for EU' labels meant goods were considered unfit for consumption on the continent, and so the Labour government announced this labelling will not be required in Britain. Photograph: Agency Stock

Over the next few weeks, people in Northern Ireland will notice familiar products on supermarket shelves being replaced with items from the Republic and the rest of the EU – or so industry sources have informed the BBC.

This is because Britain’s Labour government has reneged on a deal its Conservative predecessor made with the DUP. In January’s Safeguard the Union command paper, the Tories promised sea border labelling requirements would be imposed across the UK rather than just within Northern Ireland. British food and drink producers would be left with little reason not to supply the region as they would have to meet a key requirement of supplying it anyway.

Naturally, many producers were unhappy and lobbying efforts began. Media reports claimed consumers thought the “Not for EU” labels meant goods were considered unfit for consumption on the continent. Although these stories were based on a handful of social media posts, the narrative had been set.

On Monday, the Labour government announced labelling will not be required in Britain. Instead, ministers and officials will “work intensively with industry” to maintain supplies to Northern Ireland. Only if this fails will UK-wide labelling become mandatory.

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The UK’s Food and Drink Federation said: “Our members are committed to supplying all our products everywhere across the UK, including to Northern Ireland. This more flexible approach will help keep prices down for consumers.”

There is considerable scepticism about how effective the approach will be and no faith whatsoever that compulsion is a serious threat.

Safeguarding the Union coaxed the DUP back to Stormont after a two-year boycott. The deal’s promises have been unravelling ever since. DUP leader Gavin Robinson, who replaced Jeffrey Donaldson in March, has repeatedly vowed not to collapse devolution again. Nevertheless, Monday’s announcement piles further humiliation on to unionism’s largest party, risking political instability. The Traditional Unionist Voice and other rivals have angrily mocked the DUP for restoring Stormont on “worthless” promises.

Every replacement of a British-sourced good with an EU one is portrayed as severing the union or creating an economic united Ireland

Robinson has accused Labour of breaking a pledge to honour Safeguarding the Union. He has felt obliged to have a public row with London at a time when the DUP desperately needs to build a bridge and lead unionism over it. Supporting Labour’s aim of a closer trading relationship with Europe is ultimately the only way to lower the sea border and reverse the DUP’s Brexit disaster.

Unionism’s woes are not the win for nationalism often presumed. The absurdity of fretting over supermarket supply chains is matched by the absurdity of believing they herald constitutional change. Before Brexit, unionist and nationalist politicians would occasionally complain about Irish or British flags marked on retail items. Then they would be universally ridiculed for their petty intolerance. The same pettiness now consumes the fears and hopes of either side. Every replacement of a British-sourced good with an EU one is portrayed as severing the union or creating an economic united Ireland. Lofty republican ideals are accompanied by daft jeering about where Marks and Spencer obtains its sandwiches. Once nationalists realise Brexit it not going to deliver imminent unification, their disappointment could also cause political upset.

Of course, trade can have a profound impact on culture and national identity over time – this is why “cultural exemptions” are regularly sought during trade negotiations. However, such impacts only tend to be significant when a large country trades with a small one, where their cultures are markedly different and where culture is the product being consumed: Hollywood movies are the classic example. There will be little of this type of impact from shops in Northern Ireland swapping one similar food product with another. Much of this switching has already occurred to no noticeable effect.

The benefit of cross-Border trade that has been most carefully pursued throughout the peace process, beyond its straightforward economic value, is the building up of business-to-business links and their associated personal relationships. This is seen as a subtle yet cumulatively potent way of developing connections across the island. It should be entirely positive and unthreatening, with no downside for anyone.

InterTrade Ireland, one of the six cross-Border bodies established under the Belfast Agreement, described its early work as developing “networks of trust” between North and South. It was imagined that prosperity and amity were being fostered as assets for any possible future. The Brexit protocol, rebranded as the Windsor Framework, was partly intended to protect these connections, while more Northern sourcing of Southern goods should enhance them. But Brexit and the sea border have dragged all aspects of trade into the zero-sum game of traditional Northern Ireland politics. Commercial links to the Republic and to Britain are watched with mistrust and played off against each other by antagonists on both sides.

This is a tragedy for everyone. The irony of arguing over labels also makes it a perfect farce.