Suad Mooge and the hate that crosses the Irish Sea

This summer Suad Mooge represented Dublin at the Rose of Tralee, the Irish festival that celebrates Irish women at home and abroad. The title went to Westmeath's Caoilfhinn Ní Choiligh. But for many in Ireland and beyond, Suad Mooge's week in Kerry was the story of the festival.

She is Irish. She was born in County Sligo and raised in Dublin. She works as a medical scientist, volunteers as a youth leader with Sport Against Racism Ireland and runs marathons. Her parents are Somali. On stage she performed a dance that brought Irish and Somali traditions together.

For a section of the internet, that was too much.

The backlash

The abuse began as soon as she was chosen as Dublin Rose in May. "It's just been a lot of 'you're not Irish'," she told RTÉ Radio 1's Liveline, with "a lot of mentions about skin tone, religion". In an interview with the Guardian published on 26 August, she described the scale: "In the first 24 hours there were 10,000 tweets. Then it was 20,000, 50,000. My TikTok was completely flooded."

The festival did not hedge. Its chief executive, Anthony O'Gara, said: "We unequivocally condemn the racism and abuse directed at Suad. There is no place for this behaviour, online or otherwise."

Her own response was generous. In person, she told RTÉ, the "love and support" had been "way louder" than the negativity. The hostility was loudest on screens. In Tralee, the welcome was warm.

Belfast: a false label, a real danger

In June, Belfast showed how quickly a label can become a threat. A man was seriously injured in a stabbing in the north of the city on 8 June. The Police Service of Northern Ireland at first said the suspect was believed to be Somali, then identified him as Sudanese. He has been charged, and we make no comment on the case.

The correction did not travel as fast as the claim. Fact-checkers at France 24 documented false posts blaming "a Somali man", illustrated with photographs of someone else. Disorder followed, and homes believed to house migrants were attacked.

A Somali woman in Belfast told the BBC that her address had been shared online. She said she feared being targeted "because of the way I dress". On 10 June, Ofcom wrote to online platforms warning that some of the disorder "appears to have been incited online".

Honesty cuts both ways

On 9 June, a post on X claimed a Somali woman had been slashed in Dublin and that the media were ignoring it. Fact-checkers found no credible reports and no police confirmation. Invented victimhood harms real victims, and it arms those who deny the problem exists. A community that asks others to check the facts must check its own.

Why this matters in Britain

Britain, Ireland and Northern Ireland share a common travel area, a media space and an online culture. The same accounts and clips cross the Irish Sea in seconds. When a rumour labels an attacker "Somali", families in Dublin, Belfast, London, Bristol and Cardiff all feel it.

Three lessons follow:

• Corrections deserve equal prominence. When police get an early identification wrong, the correction should be as prominent as the error.
• Ofcom's powers are being tested. The Online Safety Act gives Ofcom real powers, and Belfast is a test of whether they work when rumour puts homes at risk.
• Belonging is civic, not racial. Irishness and Britishness do not depend on skin colour. Suad Mooge was born in Sligo. She is as Irish as anyone who has worn a Rose sash.

She said she hoped girls who see themselves in her would know that "this is open to you". They do now.