War in the name of God

In the early 90’s, I had the great privilege to be able to spend half a year as an exchange student in wonderful Dublin. Once in a while my friend and I were invited to an Irish family for dinner. We always enjoyed these invitations tremendously. The reason for this were - as you might have already guessed - rather not the really well cooked potatoes we were usually served, but the overwhelming kindness and generosity of our hosts. Of course I knew about „the Troubles“, the Irish conflict. And I always wondered: how was it possible that exactly these exceptionally kind people were stuck in a seemingly endless violent conflict. I used to meet my Swiss girlfriend in London (= cheap flight for both of us) during holidays whenever possible. Therefore I got a bit familiar with the British culture too during my exchange semester [1]. And at one of these dinners at an Irish family, I made the serious mistake to mention my confusing perception, that Irish and British culture seemed to be…