Today, as I roamed the bustling streets of Dublin, our proud capital, I was hit with a nauseating revelation: countless restaurants and takeaways brazenly advertise their meats as halal. This Islamic ritual slaughter, which I find utterly repellent, involves a trained Muslim chanting the name of Allah (tasmiyah) over an animal that’s barely stunned, its throat slit while it’s still alive, left to writhe as its blood drains out. The very thought churns my stomach. I’m not religious, but I can’t ignore that Ireland is steeped in Christian roots, a heritage now overshadowed by this creeping dominance of halal meat in our markets. It’s sickening to think that so many of us are unknowingly consuming meat tainted by a practice that feels so alien to our traditions. The lack of transparency, the quiet infiltration of this ritual into our food, disgusts me to my core. I refuse to swallow meat defiled by someone else’s religious rites, forced upon me without my Consent. Halal has no place in Ireland.

Posted by Fred Bassett