Somewhere among the clouds above

Written by Lachlan Patrick Kelly

Any views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the views or positions of any entities they are associated with or represent.

With an average depth of nearly 12,000 feet, the North Atlantic Ocean could have been custom-built to swallow aeroplanes whole. A deathly expanse of gunmetal water, bearing its teeth in millions of white waves biting over the surface, ill-famed for storms and hurricanes and howling winds. From the small rectangular glass of a shaking cockpit, the journey through the skies above must surely uncork feelings of dread, the flight being a gauntlet through turbulence and rain as thick as waterfalls. A long escape from the mouth of a yawning grey giant. Thankfully, then, the clouds open to the Palaeozoic cliffs of west Galway far below. The ocean has surrendered territory back to the land, and where there is land, there is a landing strip.

The island of Ireland ought to be saluted by pilots as their great redeemer, an emerald-skinned salvation after hours of near-miss tragedy. The first uninterrupted transatlantic air crossing ended in Galway, when John Alcock and Arthur Brown crash-landed their biplane in June 1919.

Later, in 1932, aviator Amelia Earhart performed an unscheduled landing in Londonderry pastureland, sacrificing her original plan of arriving in Paris. Today though, things are far less dramatic for most fliers in Ireland’s sky, as 36 million passengers travelled through Dublin airport last year alone. This was a record number of souls for the Republic of Ireland to be responsible for and demonstrates the country’s enormous role in international air traffic flow.

Besides travellers, the Republic of Ireland also has a firm hold over the world’s aeroplanes, with Republic-based leasing businesses now managing 69 percent of the value of all leased aircraft globally, effectively responsible for €274 billion of air assets. These impressive commands do meet their limit however, for in spite of all its monopolising of civilian air travel, the Republic of Ireland has coolly dismissed the responsibility of guarding its own airspace.

The Irish Defence Forces maintain a small team of eight turbo-propeller aeroplanes, by no means a fleet, none of which are equipped with combat radar or capable of intercepting jet engines. Without combat radar, it is unlikely they could be armed with modern missiles, presumably leaving them reliant on machine guns. In a world where sixth-generation combat fighters are designed to surprise and kill from a great distance, it would be an incredible miracle if one Irish Air Corps turboprop even made it airborne against an attack by 21st century fighter jets. Alongside the eight flying ducks, the Republic also has a small offering of helicopters and radar-equipped search aeroplanes. Basic math says that it would require only three F-22 Raptor fighter jets, or their equivalent, to destroy all of the Republic of Ireland’s air assets. To describe this hypothetical battle as a dogfight would give far too much credit to the defenders — a curious toddler incinerating ants with a magnifying glass is a more accurate comparison.

Naturally, it would never come to a fighter jet attack, as a modest drone swarm would accomplish the same result. The Republic of Ireland has actually had a starter course in this scenario already. In December 2025, as Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky arrived in Dublin for a short visit, several unidentified drones were spotted in the air over the Irish Sea. International headlines followed, but the Republic’s government did their best to dampen news of the breach. While the nameless drones may have evaporated as furtively as they had appeared, their very arrival should be read as indictive of a perilous blind spot.

This blind spot is actually so all-embracing that Ireland even has difficulty monitoring friendly wings overhead. A newspaper investigation revealed that 248 American military flights over the Republic of Ireland went unreported. The United States Air Force transports air assets, troops and surveillance aeroplanes — all journeys unlogged due to an ‘administrative error’. The government’s own tracking had American military flights over the Republic at zero at a time when they were in fact soaring.

According to a 1959 agreement, US military aeroplanes are free to pass through the Republic of Ireland’s airspace so long as they are unarmed and not part of an operation. Should an aeroplane be armed, participating in an operation or both, then the flight must be approved by Dublin. Even allowing for rose-tinted 1950s innocence, this agreement is as close to a ‘come as you are’ invitation that two nations can probably ever reach. Without the means of verifying if a flight is armed or flying as part of an operation, the incentive for Dublin to sit back and watch the propellers pass by is virtually guaranteed.

Since the 1970s, when the Republic of Ireland began moulding itself into the superhighway that it has become for transatlantic commerce and finance, there has been a steady conversion from the Republic acting as a gracious host to all skyward comers, to being a versatile pitstop for her one favourite suitor. 2,000 American military and civil flights, aeroplanes with declared munitions on board, landed at Irish airports over three years between 2022 and 2024. It is hard to imagine this same cordiality being extended to military aeroplanes from China and Russia, declared munitions on board or otherwise. For Dublin to even allow refueling for a planeload of British paratroopers is equally implausible. In the same manner that the Republic of Ireland works to charm New York bankers at the expense of Frankfurt bankers, or cuddles Silicon Valley executives while extending everyone else a polite handshake, there will always be ready tarmac for an American aeroplane.

The economic and political coalition between Dublin and Washington DC is genuinely one of the Republic of Ireland’s greatest achievements. A relationship that once needed folk songs and JFK to prove its worth is today measured in ready cash and deep profits. Would the Provisional IRA have ever disarmed if President Clinton had not signalled his growing impatience with their slaughter-disguised-as-heroism routine? How much slower would the country’s rebound from the global subprime mortgage collapse have been if Dublin did not have the American pot of gold waiting for it? Would Prime Ministers May or Johnson have won Brexit if America had left the Republic of Ireland to its natural, geographic fate beneath the British mainland?

The enmeshment of American strategic interests with the Republic’s economic interests is a smash hit for the ages, but its future is cloudy. Questions over jurisdiction, the ‘officially unofficial’ and the Republic of Ireland not being a NATO member state prompt more speculation about an arrangement that was designed as constructively opaque. However, all of these matters could be dealt with in next to no time were the US allowed its very own air station inside the Republic. The duly named Kennedy Air Force Base, built somewhere in the plateaued interior of County Roscommon, would be American sovereign territory. Flights would come and go without relying on Irish air traffic controllers or runways. Legal challenges against American operations would get kicked into some very long grass. The government in Dublin would find their hands were pleasantly tied, while the government in Washington DC carried on at full thrust. The air station’s hardened aeroplane shelters could rightly be wallpapered with greenbacks in view of how many jobs it would generate. This solution is perfectly doable but necessitates that the Republic of Ireland shed its last, withered figleaf of impartiality and openly declare itself for the American hyperpower. After decades of hand-in-glove arrangements, it is unlikely anyone would be shocked.

At the same time, a permanent American anchor in the country would do nothing to secure the wider airspace. The Republic of Ireland would remain, as it is now, an extremely porous and vulnerable patch of sky — without fighter jets or surface-to-air missile batteries to enforce a monopoly of violence. A nation with a 2025 public surplus of $14.5 billion, an established commercial expertise in leasing aeroplanes and with a ready cohort of homegrown Irish pilots whose skills enjoy a strong reputation should have no issue in raising a NATO-standard independent air force. In all likelihood though, it will take the threatening incursion by a hostile power for the Republic’s government and people to be stung into action.

As long as the Republic of Ireland continues to offer itself as a vital junction in international air travel, it will be a prime target for outside interference. Being hamstrung in regards to physical security while pushing to corner civil aviation is a paradox that only the Irish could have invented for themselves. Taking in 36 million passengers through Dublin airport without accepting responsibility for its own territory is reckless and illustrates a reluctance from successive Dublin governments to truly behave like reliable partners. The recent conflict in the Persian Gulf demonstrated civilian airports’ vulnerabilities to modern-day drones and missiles. Dubai was forced to close its huge international terminals following an Iranian drone strike — the United Arab Emirates’ air force includes combat fighter jets and still their airport was shut down. Imagine how the Republic of Ireland would fare under a comparable enemy barrage.

All is not yet lost for the exposed, powerless Republic, thanks to a once-secret deal with its closest neighbour. A few years ago, it became public that the British Royal Air Force (RAF) had long been granted access into Irish air to pursue unidentified aircraft. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the political union that the Republic of Ireland was theoretically created to distinguish itself from, is in essence the guarantor of the Republic’s airspace. Another paradox from the calculus of hard power: RAF typhoon jets launching from England and Scotland to keep the Republic of Ireland safe in its bed. Of course, the British are acting out of necessity rather than generosity, but it only adds to the credibility shortfall that surrounds various iterations of the Republic’s government. Suddenly, without warning, the Republic of Ireland will be compelled to grasp the disadvantages of having its economy in California and its fighter jet protection being donated from High Wycombe. What will remain is that looming, vengeful North Atlantic Ocean.

Whilst the Blitz raged in the skies over Britain, a number of Luftwaffe bombers strayed off and released their bombs onto neutral Dublin. Hundreds of homes were destroyed, and Irish civilians were hurt and killed. The Republic of Ireland was later awarded financial compensation for the trouble. Perhaps in the future, after another heavily armed air force drops its payload on Dublin, the offenders will also be good enough to send a cheque afterwards.