Oidhreacht na staire

Leabhar mór atá in The Legacy of History: Lectures and Commemorative Addresses (Mercier Press) le Martin Mansergh, Teachta Dála de chuid Fhianna Fáil agus comhairleoir rialtais ar feadh i bhfad. Tá beagnach 500 leathanach ann má chuirtear na nótaí agus tagairtí san áireamh. Bíodh sin mar atá, níor cheart go gcuirfeadh toirt an imleabhair eagla ar dhuine ar bith nó, mar a thugann an fotheideal le fios, is cnuasach léachtaí agus óráidí comórtha atá anseo, rud a chiallaíonn gur scríobhadh na píosaí agus lucht éisteachta i gceist.

Féadaim a rá go raibh mé féin i láthair nuair a thug Mansergh ceann de na léachtaí seo ar an Mhullach Bán, Co Ard Mhacha, tá cúpla bliain ó shin. Bhí teacht i láthair deas aige agus ba léir go raibh an-eolas aige agus an-oiliúint air ach níor lig sé don eolas nó don oiliúint an lámh in uachtar a fháil air – labhair sé leis an lucht éisteachta go measúil. Ní raibh sé ag maíomh as a chuid eolais ach á roinnt agus á roinnt ar bhealach umhal agus tá na dea-thréithe sin le sonrú sna haistí ar fad.

Tá an leabhar líon lán le léachtaí den chineál poiblí seo; tá roinnt léirmheasanna leabhair ann agus roinnt óráidí – sa traidisiún poblachtánach – a tugadh cois uaighe. Níl an saothar báite le fonótaí agus is dócha go mbeidh staraithe ann nach dtaitneoidh sin leo ach don neach aisteach sin, an gnáthléitheoir (agus tá mé féin ar dhuine acu), éascaíonn sé an léitheoireacht.

Is é an cineál leabhair é a n-aimsíonn tú ábhar fiúntach ann gach aon uile uair a n-osclaíonn tú é. Mar shampla, tá caibidil amháin ag Mansergh ar fhealsúnacht na staire agus trí aiste thar a bheith spéisiúil ar ról an staraí agus na staire; tá aistí eile aige ar Wolfe Tone, Éirí Amach 1798, ar an Ord Buí, Thomas Davis, Charles Stuart Parnell, Pádraig Mac Piarais, Erskine Childers, Liam Lynch gan ach dornán a lua. Déanann sé cur síos íogair ar chuid de na daoine a mhúnlaigh cúrsaí polaitíochta agus cultúir sa Stát seo, cuirim i gcás, Todd Andrews, Elizabeth Bowen, Lemass, agus tá rannóg ar leith aige a bhaineann leis an Tuaisceart, na Stailceanna Ocrais agus leis na dúshláin atá roimh lucht leanúna Gerry Adams sa lá atá inniu ann.

Ceann de na buanna is mó atá ag an údar a chumas daoine móra le rá a mhair a chur i láthair an léitheora le go dtuigeann sé gur dhaoine iad a raibh orthu roghanna deacra a dhéanamh agus brú bocht orthu. Tógaimis, mar shampla, an aiste ar Parnell. Éiríonn le Mansergh an duine, a lucht tacaíochta agus a naimhde a chur os comhair do shúl go han-éifeachtach. Is scéal thar a bheith casta é saol Parnell ach thuigfeá as saothar Mansergh na príomhcheistanna agus na príomhchonspóidí a bhain lena ré pholaitiúil; tuigeann tú cur agus cúiteamh imeachtaí a linne.

Tá bua sin na hachoimre le sonrú i mórán eile aistí. Tá na haistí ar ról an phoblachtánais i dtír Chríostaí thar a bheith sonraíoch – agus nuair a labhrann Mansergh ar an phoblachtánas, ní hiad na Sealadaigh atá i gceist aige ach traidisiún a pháirtí féin, Fianna Fáil. Tugann sé léargas ar an ról a shamhlaíonn sé bheith ag Eaglais na hÉireann in “Ag cruthú ré nua tuigse agus muiníne”. Is ball de chuid na heaglaise sin é agus creideann sé gur ní deimhneach é an Chríostaíocht in Éirinn, dearcadh nach bhfuil faiseanta ar chor ar bith ar na saolta seo, ach tuilleann téis Mansergh éisteacht. Amharcann sé ar an Chríostaíocht mar thraidisiún saibhir grámhar léannta, traidisiún a chuireann le maith phobal na hÉireann. Chun glóire Dé agus onóra na hÉireann, más mian leat.

Ba spéis liomsa mar Ultach Caitliceach na haistí ar an Ord Buí agus ar stair Chath na Bóinne. Duine de na daoine a luann sé sa tréimhse sin nach raibh eolas ar bith agam air Liam an Tosta, prionsa san Ísiltír a feallmharaíodh ar orduithe Philib a Dó na Spáinne – an rí céanna a loic ar Aodh Mór Ó Néill ar deireadh. Fear a bhí i Liam an Tosta a bhí leathanaigeanta, a chreid gur cheart go mbeadh cead ag gach aon duine san Ísiltír – idir Chaitlicigh agus Phrotastúnaigh – a gcreideamh féin a chleachtadh saor ó bhagairt. B’amhlaidh a bhí an scéal le linn dó bheith ag troid in éadan Philib ach níor fhág a dhearcadh lorg, faraor, ar an fhear a tháinig ina dhiaidh, fear na Bóinne agus múrphictiúir Bhéal Feirste. Fiafraíonn Mansergh cén cor a chuirfí i stair na hÉireann dá maireadh Liam an Tosta agus dá ndéanfaí rí na hÍsiltíre agus na Breataine de.

Ar ndóigh, fear de chuid Fhianna Fáil é Mansergh. Fear páirtí go smior atá ann agus is cinnte nach mbeidh gach aon duine ar aon fhocal leis faoi na buanna a fheiceann sé ag a pháirtí féin nó a gcuid ceannairí. Ní bheidh gach náisiúntóir sa Tuaisceart chomh tugtha sin leis an chur síos báúil a thugann sé ar rialtas Jack Lynch agus iad ag déileáil leis na Trioblóidí ag tús na 70í. Ní bheidh poblachtánaigh de shliocht Ruairí Uí Bhrádaigh ar a gcompord lena dhearcadh ar a gcuid polaitíochta in “Tom Maguire and the Stretching of Republican Legitimacy” agus ní bheidh an DUP sásta leis an dóigh a lonnaíonn sé an creideamh Protastúnach i gcomhthéacs Éireannach uile-oileánda. Ní bheidh lucht cáinte Cathail Uí Eochaidh sásta lena chur síos cineálta ar an iar-thaoiseach. Dálta iar-uachtarán na Fraince, Francois Mitterand, tá smál ar chlú Uí Eochaidh ach maireann a chuid éachtaí ar fad, a scríobhann Mansergh.

Ach mholfainn do gach duine ar spéis leis polaitíocht na hÉireann na haistí ar stair agus ar cheannairí Fhianna Fáil a léamh nó tá siad ar chur síos chomh maith ar thuigse thraidisiúnta an pháirtí orthu féin agus a gheobhaidh tú. (Tugann Mansergh moladh ar leith d’Éamon de Valera as an fhís a bhí aige mar pholaiteoir ar feadh a shaoil.)

Stair na bhfear uasal atá anseo don mhórchuid, rud a léiríonn nádúr fearúil na gcumann staire agus scoileanna samhraidh, is dócha. Luaitear mná, Anna Parnell, deirfiúr Charles Stuart agus Matilda Tone, bean Wolfe Tone, ach is ar éigean a thuilleann mná tagairt thairis sin. Tá eisceacht amháin ann – Elizabeth Bowen, an scríbhneoir, agus, arís eile, tugann Mansergh an-léargas uirthi agus ar an aicme agus ar an ré lenar bhain sí.

Níl a iúl ar chúrsaí Gaeilge nó Gaeltachta (cé go bhfuil corrthagairt di thall is abhus) agus níl mé ag iarraidh an léirmheas seo a imphléascadh go cúrsaí teanga.. Ach rith rud amháin liom – tugadh bunús na gcainteanna seo ar chuireadh ó chumainn staire agus eagrais éagsúla cultúir. Nár mhaith dá n-iarrfaí eagras Gaeilge air caint a thabhairt ar oidhreacht na Gaeilge agus na Gaeltachta, fiú más i mBéarla féin a dhéanfadh sé í? Bhí Cathal Ó hEochaidh ina Aire Gaeltachta a fhad agus a bhí Mansergh ag plé leis agus ní bheadh sé aineolach ar an ábhar. B’fhiú a leithéid a chluinstin; thabharfadh sé ábhar machnaimh.

Foilsíodh an léirmheas seo ar Foinse roimhe

Battle for Civil Rights

The battle for the mantle of the Civil Rights movement continues to be fought. Gerry Adams claimed in yesterday’s Irish News that he was one of “a small number [of] people present at the founding of the [Civil Rights] association” in Belfast. He also stated that the civil rights campaign emerged from the republican Wolfe Tone Society: “It was the beginning of a long and difficult struggle for the basic civil and human rights, including the right to vote. A struggle which continues today.” (Adams does not mention the IRA at all.)

The party line is echoed in the Irish News today where Sinn Féin MLA, Francie Molloy, takes the paper’s columnist and SDLP member, Tom Kelly, to task for a recent opinion piece. Like Adams, Molloy also argues that the Civil Rights Association emerged from the Wolfe Tone Society. He says the SDLP are trying to “hijack” the 40th anniversary for party political purposes.

The views of Adams and Molloy are rebutted by Ivan Cooper, a founder member of the SDLP and civil rights activist who states that the civil rights movement began in Derry: “Sinn Féin have become famous for hijacking historical events which simply are not attributable to them at all. How can you be involved in civil rights activity when you are involved with killings?”

A simple question but do not expect a simple answer.

SDLP Rejects Budget

The SDLP, having weighed up what was on offer in the budget against its serious shortcomings, voted against it- fair play to them. Margaret Ritchie stood firm in the face of the DUP/ SF axis bullying tactics and managed to squeeze extra money from them for much-needed social housing. However, it remains an essentially right-wing, anti-community budget. There is of course the lack of detail on water reform and education, and by the recent performance of Nigel Dodds with regard to the abolition of relief for the installation of energy efficient measures, the two big parties cannot be trusted to deliver unless they spell out exactly what they are intending to do.

Some people don't seem to be able to get their heads around the concept that the SDLP are in the Executive as a right, not because they have agreed on a way forward with the DUP and Sinn Féin. This isn't like the situation in the Republic where parties coalesce voluntarily because they agree on a way forward. The SDLP has a democratic mandate to oppose anything they wish to oppose in the Executive.

Technically Margaret Ritchie had to vote in favour of the budget, but the wider party is not bound by these rules and has every right to oppose the budget. That does not undermine its right to be in the Executive- they have a mandate and right to use any Executive seat they have in any way they see fit, as the other parties also can do. Likewise with their party vote in the Assembly. There is nothing morally or legally to say they have to dance to the tune of the DUP/ Sinn Féin axis.

There are some, including the perennially self-righteous Alliance Party, who say the SDLP should quit the Executive. Quitting would be contravening the spirit of the Good Friday Agreement which the SDLP framed. This is about powersharing and scrutiny, not leaving the lunatics in charge of the asylum unchecked.

And then there are those who say that the SDLP should back the budget and every other DUP/ SF point-of-view because they share Executive membership with them. This would essentially mean that the SDLP would have to support the budget even if they disagreed with it. That would be anti-democratic.

There are also those who argue that the SDLP should quit the Executive and form an opposition (a position not provided for in the GFA and which is anti-powersharing and has no legal basis). That would be tantamount to the Westminster-style set-up of the old Stormont regime.

No, the SDLP should remain in the Executive as the guardian of the rights and needs of the people. So what if it has to vote against Executive decisions? If it means standing up for what is right, then so be it.

Affairs of Statelet

The Office of the Deputy First Minister; Stormont. The phone rings and Marty Mc barks “Yes?”, annoyed that he is being distracted from the important business of governing the not quite so-occupied as it used to be but not entirely free territory known as Here.
“I have Gerry Adams on the line, sir,” says his secretary.
“Who?”
“Gerry Adams.”
“I don’t know anyone called Gerry Adams.”
“Well, he says he knows you sir. Tall man from Belfast.”
“Doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”
“Has a beard.”
“Not ringing any bells.”
“Speaks a lot of Irish.”
“Nope.”
“Founded the Civil Rights Movement.”
“Can’t place him at all.”
“Was never in the IRA.”
“Oh, that Gerry Adams. Why didn’t you say. Put him through.”
“Martin, it’s Gerry. Thanks for taking my call.”
“No problem,” says Marty as he puts the finishing touches on a press release attacking Margaret Ritchie. “Always glad to talk to a friend who was never in the movement.” Both men laugh at their little joke before Adams becomes serious and statesman like. “Martin,” says Adams, “I wanted to talk to you about this Victims’ Commissioner business.”
“Actually, Gerry, I think you will find that it is Victims’ Commissioners. Ian and I have hatched a very cunning plan. We are going to appoint four of them.”
“Four! Are you sure, Martin? It sounds like we could get a lot of stick for that. This is a very sensitive issue.”
“Never worry, Gerry. Ian and I think it is a daring and imaginative solution to our current difficulties. And it is only the start. How does two chief constables grab you? One for us and one for them.”
“Well, as long as neither one of them does actually grab me, it sounds great. But I am a bit concerned. What’s all this about you and Ian? The last time I looked I was still president of Sinn Féin and, in effect, the leader of Ireland.”
“Of course you are,” says Martin, “you are still the leader of that imaginary Ireland but this is the real Northern Ireland and Ian and I have responsibilities.”
“Marty, did you just say Northern Ireland?”
“No. I said northern Ireland. It is simply a geographical description.”
There is an awkward silence before Adams clears his throat and speaks: “Do you know what else would be great? What about two deputy first ministers? I mean, sometimes I think that people have forgotten who I am…”
“Nonsense! We will never forget the part you played in the republican struggle, Jeremy.”
“But my name is not…”
“Sorry. Can’t talk. Important affairs of statelet to attend.”

Four Victims' Commissioners

After months of bizarre delay over the appointment of a Victims' Commissioner, it now transpires that four will be appointed. Quite why this has happened remains to be seen. The DUP's Jeffrey Donaldson claimed on today's BBC Politics Show that there was enough work to justify this many people being appointed. Perhaps, but why wasn't this made clear at the outset? After all, such an argument wasn't raised at the time of Bertha McDougall's appointment- the DUP seemed quite happy to have gotten 'their' woman into the post at the time.

I think most of us would be forgiven for thinking that perhaps this odd outcome is the result of the DUP and Sinn Féin not being able to come to an agreement over who ought to have been appointed Commissioner, so they decided to appoint a whole pile of them to keep everyone happy. Surely if someone met all of the criteria, that should have been enough to see them placed in the role- to appoint four Commissioners would suggest that we ought not have faith in the system alone.

Is this the start of a pattern? Is the DUP/ SF axis going to take this route every time they are faced with a tough decision?

Given that each of these Commissioners will need staff support, it will be interesting to see how much extra all of this costs the taxpayer. After all, the initial plan to have one Commissioner on a salary of £65,000 has now been scrapped. Also, given the diverse backgrounds of those involved, will they all be engaged in dealing with every case, or will each of them have a separate portfolio? There are also rumours circulating regarding the legality of plumping for four Commissioners instead of just one.

I wish the new Commissioners good luck- they have an important task ahead of them. However, I don't think this is over just yet.

Language death

Friday’s Independent had a report on the death of Marie Smith-Jones, the last speaker of Eyak, a language native to Alaska. Smith-Jones’ death means that Eyak has also died. I did not know that there was such a language as Eyak until yesterday but the world is certainly a poorer place with its demise. Linguist Steven Levinson is quoted: “When a language dies, a whole world dies. It takes millennia to develop and is an artefact that contains within it a whole culture. This is a tragedy.” That is undoubtedly true.

So, it is back to the grindstone in Ireland... Next weekend, the Merriman Winter School in Westport, Co Mayo, will debate the development of Irish, “Forbairt na Gaeilge 1958-2008”. It is 50 years since the language was standardised – though to what success remains open to argument. The school will look at Standard Irish and also at the standard of Irish, that is, address the issue of the erosion of contemporary Irish in the face of English. There is no doubt that the classical, contemporary dialect that many of my generation (40 plus) learned from the books of, say, Seosamh Mac Grianna and Séamus Ó Grianna, is not often the argot of the 20 something Irish speaker. That is not to say that every young Irish speaker speaks bad Irish. Far from it. The astounding thing for me remains that there are so many young speakers with such rich and idiomatic speech.

That, however, will not necessarily always be the case. Television is certainly playing its part in flattening Irish or, if you prefer, freeing it from the tyranny of the pedant. It is appropriate then that one of the speakers at Merriman will be Pádraic Ó Ciardha, the deputy head of the bilingual television station, TG4, and one of the fastest Irish speakers I have ever heard. The Merriman winter school is conducted entirely through the medium of Irish. If you have lost contact with the language and want to get back in touch, it would not be a bad place to begin. Let “sink or snámh” be your motto. The entire programme and dates (in Irish only) is on www.merriman.ie

Language question

The Irish Times has a piece today by Mike Wade, Shelving literary nationalism, in which he looks at plans in the United States to lump Scottish literature with English writing. Could there be any worse fate for a Scottish writer to be called a Sasanach? Wade reports that the Scottish writers are none too pleased with the proposal and has a couple of quotes from Irish writers who write in English – Booker-prize winner Anne Enright and Richard and Judy favourite, Joe O’Connor. Neither are particularly exercised by the issue and suggest the solution of placing Irish writers of English into a “Literature in English” category.

Enright and O’Connor’s responses reminded me of the recent RTÉ arts lives documentary on another Booker winner, John Banville. Banville was not too bothered with being described as an “Irish” writer; he lived and voted in Ireland but regarded himself as a “European” writer. Leading to the question, that was not asked, can’t he be both and what is a “European” writer? One got the impression from Banville, born in Wexford, that he was trying to banish the smell of turf from his nostrils. (It seems odd too in these days of celebrity chefs when the emphasis is on unique and local produce that an Irish writer should actually try and purge himself of those things – religion, history – which distinguishes him from a London writer, say.)

There are two issues here: one of language and one of subject. The language question will not go away – as the Scottish row shows. To write in English does not mean you are English. But how do you fight that categorisation when the commercial trend is that books must be best sellers and that English is English is English? Best sellers – even if they are written by ‘high-brow’ authors – often offer as little linguistic challenge as possible to the reader; they are the literary equivalent of a Marks and Spencer’s ready meal, something that superficially resembles Indian or Italian food but does not hold a candle to the real stuff. It is enough to allow us the satisfaction of not pealing a spud but little else. The reader in Dublin 4, Hampstead Heath or Manhattan will have the same dictionary and can decipher the English used in a way they could never do with, say, Walter Macken or Peadar O’Donnell. (This is not to argue, by the way, that writing in Irish automatically imbues the text with a sliver of the Irish soul. Writing in Irish – be it poetry, prose or drama – has its own very real problems.)

And as for subject. German writers Heinrich Boll and Günter Grass won Nobel prizes for their work, writing on the effects of the second world war on their society. Bernhard Schlink, whose latest book, homecoming, has just landed on my desk, writes in a similar vein. They address the big questions of life and death in a much more intense and artistic way than many contemporary Irish writers in English. It is unimaginable that Banville would ever write a novel on, say, Bloody Sunday or the Enniskillen bombing, and yet Grass’s Crabwalk is a master-class in how great writers take on momentous subjects.

What is Irish writing? What is a European writing? What ish my nation – to say nothing of my language?

DUP Anti-Catholicism In Full Flight

I don't often bring up the issue of religion on this blog as it's not something I care to speak of much- live and let live, I say. However it is hard to ignore the blatant intolerance displayed by a DUP apparatchik on RTÉ radio this week.

Wallace Thompson, who is an advisor to DUP enterprise minister Nigel Dodds, said on air yesterday that the "Pope is the Antichrist." He also told the radio phone-in that he would oppose any visit to the north by the Pontiff.

If a senior official of a governing party anywhere else in Europe spouted this verbal detritus, there would be public outrage. Yet here in good ol' Northern Ireland, we're just supposed to accept this kind of anachronistic nonsense as if it were somehow normal. Not only that, but if we dare to criticise Paisley's party and its clearly unreformed views on the religious beliefs of a large section of the community here, we're accused of being stuck in the past and for looking for excuses to criticise the 'All New' DUP. With blindingly obvious idiocy such as that displayed by Thompson, added to the intolerance of Ian Paisley Jr displayed upon the pages of Hot Press magazine a few months ago, one doesn't exactly have to look far to find reason to censure the DUP.

And God forbid that people would criticise Sinn Féin for so jovially involving themselves in a sordid little love-in with a party which clearly despises the beliefs of a great many people whom the provisional party purport to represent. That would just be jealousy at the fact that they are now the largest nationalist party in the north, wouldn't it? Clearly we should turn a blind eye to the vicious background of Ian Paisley, the sectarian intolerance displayed down the years by the DUP, and underlying belief that all that went before was completely justified, eh? But I suppose that would come easy to the DUP/ Sinn Féin axis given that they both have a heritage which, from their point of view electorally, is safer forgotten.

However, smiles and suits don't hide the truth.

Margaret Marches Onwards

I must apologise for my irregular appearances on the blog of late- a new computer is winging its way to Áras an Bhlogador so with any luck my contributions will resume a somewhat more orderly rate of publication. As it transpires, Pól has been keeping a steady hand at the helm, guiding El Blogador safely away from being dashed on the iceberg of irrelevance.

Today saw the current Assembly's first budget. After all the wrangling of recent months over who was getting what from the proverbial purse, Margaret Ritchie's department emerged as the 'victor', which in effect means that the people in our society who need help to get a headstart in life are the victors.

Despite being bullied and harrangued by the DUP/ Sinn Féin axis, Margaret has stood firm on a range of issues such as the withdrawing of funding to loyalist-linked projects and protesting against the meagre offerings presented to her by the laughably right-wing draft budget.

They attempted to force her to back down. They attempted to corner her into accepting a budget which would have meant an unfair deal for the people in society who need the most help. They failed.

Today, Margaret Ritchie has been vindicated.

Two-hundred million pounds will be directed into the Department of Social Development bank account to enable it to meet housing targets over the next three years. The result will be the construction of 1,500 new abodes in year one, following by 1,750 in year two and a further 2,000 homes in year three.

Margaret said she was pleased with the money being allocated for social housing: "In respect of social and affordable housing, I think this has been a good day for the people of Northern Ireland and a good budget deal for housing."

Meanwhile, Ulster Unionist Minister Michael McGimpsey has been given more flexibility over his health budget. His financial allocation also includes a much-needed injection of £10m a year for mental health provision.

It just goes to prove- standing up for what you believe in, even in the face of dictatorial opposition, can deliver results. Keep up the good work!

African Cup of Nations

I am stretching the terms of reference of this column a little by mentioning nationalism of a sporting type – the African Cup of Nations. The tournament kicked off on Sunday with a 1-0 win for the hosts, Ghana, against Guinea. The games are live on BBCi and well worth a look. I know nothing about football. I have a passing interest in club football but have never been to a professional match. However, I love watching international football. There is something simply joyous about watching people from countries far and wide kicking a ball about like they were in Lady Dixon Park. This is only my second African Cup. I was glued to it two years ago when it was in Egypt. (The Egyptians won.)

Like all tournaments, it will take a while for it to settle down and for the real contenders to emerge. That said, the games so far have been enjoyable to watch and I am very taken by the bright and enticing sunshine in Ghana. Wonder if there is any chance El Mat will fly me out for the final? I am sure there would be social democratic implications and developing nations’ issues that the readers of El Blogador would want to know about. If you cannot watch the games live, there is a highlights show on BBC3 at 7pm. Go on, you deserve it. Lent will be starting soon and you will not have any excuses for a mid-evening beer and bag of crisps.

By the way, I noticed that Cote d’Ivoire (or Ivory Coast as the Beeb team call them) were in action yesterday. Their national flag has the same colours as the Irish national flag but in reverse order: Orange, White and Green. Does anyone know why? Amazing! I just found a link with Irish Nationalism. Now El Mat will have to fly me out.

‘Collective and political ignorance’

Tom Kelly is in fine form in today’s Irish News where he argues that, with the 40th anniversary of the founding of the Civil Rights movement next week, the SDLP has a chance to set a new political agenda. He gives a brief history of the SDLP’s role in the civil rights movement and argues that: “Through indifference our collective memory can be distorted, even wiped. Perhaps therefore behind the mindset of those seeking to remind us about the civil rights campaign and the foundation of the SDLP is an aspiration to correct the impairment which blurs our vision between the “light and darkness, dusk and dawn, even good and evil”.

“Because there is no doubt that in what is now a period of northern ‘glasnost and perestroika’, one of the difficulties the founders of the SDLP face since the signing of the Good Friday Agreement is the collective and political ignorance of an entire generation [my emphasis]. This may be no bad thing for it challenges those who seek to carry the mantle of equal and civil rights to identify and set out a new agenda for a new era. In doing so they must not just fan the dying embers of the past but they must burn up the political indifference of the present.”

Can that “collective and political ignorance of an entire generation” be corrected and what is the best way to do it? The full article is worth reading and is available, free, on the Irish News’ new site, www.irishnews.com

Acht/Act

Ní acht teanga é seo ná reachtaíocht parlaiminte
Ná gníomh díoltais ar sceadamán drogallach.
Maireann na línte seo neamhspleách ar ráitis rialtais,
Ar chinneadh coiste agus ar phátrúnacht polaitíochta.
Níl anseo ach focla loma an fhoghlaimeora,
Briathra ciotacha agus aidiachtaí éiginnte.
Níl anseo ach mise agus tusa, file agus léitheoir,
Comhrá faoi phribhléid i mbosca toll an éistigh.
Ní acht teanga é seo – ach acht anama.

This is not a language act or parliamentary legislation
Or a measure of revenge on an unwilling throat.
These lines live independent of government statements,
Of committee decisions and of political patronage.
There is nothing here but the learner’s bald words,
Troublesome verbs and uncertain adjectives;
There is nothing here but you and me, poet and reader,
In privileged conversation in the hollow confessional.
This is not a language act – but an act of soul.

Grey skies of Ulster

That old unionist jibe about the economic prowess of the North in comparison to the impoverished ways of the South – not swapping the blue skies of Ulster for the grey skies of the Republic – is rarely mentioned these days. Not surprising really given that the Republic’s skies are more than blue and the North’s remain stubbornly grey. Anecdote may not be the most reliable way to gauge the economic temperature of a region but I will offer this anyway. (After all, if you cannot pass off anecdote on the Internet as serious analysis where can you pass it off?)

I was speaking to an acquaintance of mine recently. He is a successful businessman working for an American firm in the Republic though he lives in the North. He is utterly unimpressed with how little ‘blue sky’ thinking the 'big two' political parties are doing here. His first bone of contention is how little progress is being made in the educational field. He does not believe the 11 plus is a viable system for judging children’s educational ability and is frustrated by Caitríona Ruane’s inability to tackle this issue.

He is also angered by those who defend the exam, pointing to the Republic’s education system where children pass with little trauma from primary to secondary level. (This is not to say that there are not inequalities in the system, simply that there is not the same trauma involved in the transfer.) He also mentioned the fact that children in the Republic finish their secondary education a year earlier than the North and therefore enter and complete university quicker and are in the job market first.

Worse though is the fact that Paisley and McGuinness do not realise the urgency of what faces them. Their trip to the United States was unproductive and putting all their economic eggs in one Yankee basket is dangerous. The US is heading for recession and will not be doing too much business for the next five years or so.

If that were not bad enough, he does not see any plan from the Executive to attract money from India or China – though the authorities in the Republic have already started to court the Chinese. Too many of the main players in the North, he reckons, have neither the intelligence to catch up with the Republic or the imagination to steal an economic march on them. There is a need for some inspirational leadership and it is not there.

It was very depressing stuff made all the more depressing by the fact that the speaker is no doom and gloom merchant but a serious businessman with experience of working in local industry, in Britain, the Republic and the US. Yes, he could be wrong or over egging the pessimistic pudding. However, reading the economic bits and pieces in local and national papers gives credence to his concerns. Industry, agriculture and fishing are all in decline here. The Republic has cornered the computer market and many financial services. It left me wondering whether the North is about to become like Mayo circa 1950, a place full of nice scenery where people are born, live and leave through economic necessity.

Does anyone out there have any ‘blue sky’ ideas for the grey skies of Ulster?

Song and Dance

Liam Neeson was in Belfast recently to mark the closure of the Lyric theatre. He has said he would not be playing the part of the Rev Ian Paisley in a movie anytime soon. Neeson has great artistic sense. Not every one does. It hardly seems appropriate to base a musical on the diary of Anne Frank. However, there are plans to do just that. One would have major concerns about how tasteful such a ‘show’ could be. Still, if there are people brave enough to tackle the killing of Anne Frank through song and dance, perhaps they will also get around to producing The Chuckle Brothers: the Musical – an extravaganza that could premiere in the Lyric when the theatre re-opens its doors?

There would be no lack of material to work with for the Ian Paisley character. His part would begin with that classic The Hills are Alive (To The Sound of Legally-Held Firearms Certificates), followed by that Rainbow classic, I Surrender, and finish up with Curtis Stigers’ (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding. Similarly, the McGuinness character could choose from Rocket Man; The Sound of Silence (About The Past) and that timeless Thin Lizzy classic; The Boys Are Not Back In Town (But Have Not Gone Away You Know). He could finish up with a heart-felt rendition of It’s Gonna Be A Lovely Day.

Foinse ar líne/On line source

Foinse is an Irish-language weekly newspaper, published in Conamara, that has been on the go since 1996. (Foinse is the Irish word for ‘source’.) I will declare my interest straight away and happily admit to writing a short (and seasonal) sports column for the publication, Saighdiúir Samhraidh. I am happy to have the chance to contribute to the paper. Foinse is a comprehensive read, providing current affairs, the arts, book reviews, interviews and sports. In short, I always find something of interest and support it in the most effective way I can – by putting my hand in my pocket and buying it.

Like many newspapers, Foinse has a website but it never put a big emphasis on the web, preferring the printed page to a strong presence on the Internet. That has changed now and the paper has relaunched its website. The site is still being completed but readers can go on line and avail of what is available. The paper intends to make every edition of the paper ever published available in an on-line archive in the coming months as well as posting each new issue as it is published. At the moment, there are only three issues available to view but, at 40 pages an issue, there is enough there to be getting on with. There are other facilities which will become available in the coming weeks.

So, if you are unfamiliar with the paper but are looking for a quality read in Irish or have difficulty finding Foinse in your local shop, fear not. Foinse is now ar líne/on line at www.foinse.ie

Bígí ag léamh.

Heileo, Heinrich, wie geht’s dir?

Als ich an Bord des Dampfers ging, sah ich, hörte und roch ich, daβ ich eine Grenze überschritten hatte…
Nuair a chuaigh mé ar bord an ghalbháid, chonaic mé, chuala mé agus bholaigh mé go raibh teorainn trasnaithe agam…
(Heinrich Böll, Irisches Tagebuch/Cín Lae Éireannach.)

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Tháinig m’oiliúint fhoirmiúil leis an Ghearmáinis chun deiridh i samhradh na bliana 1985 agus mé i ndiaidh mo chéad bhliain ollscoile a chríochú. Ba i samhradh na bliana céanna a fuair Heinrich Böll bás. D’ainneoin sin, níor scar mise agus Heinrich riamh; léim go fóill é, go cnapánach, admhaím, ach léim é nó is é an t-aon údar eachtrannach amháin a léim ina theanga dhúchais féin – agus ba cheart go mbeadh údar eachtrannach amháin ar eolas ag scríbhneoir ina theanga dhúchais féin nó tugann sé deis duit bheith mórluachach as do dhintiúirí liteartha: “Sea, Böll, bhí mé á léamh arís aréir. Auf Deutsch, natürlich.”

Agus mé ar ollscoil, ba é mo rún comhchéim sa Ghaeilge agus sa Ghearmáinis a dhéanamh. Thit an tóin as an rún sin nuair a theip orm sa scrúdú chéad bhliana dhá uair. (Ní raibh an bhliain gan tairbhe ar fad. Tig liom a rá sa Ghearmáinis go fóill: “Ich bin zweimal in der Prüfung durchgefallen.”/Theip orm sa scrúdú faoi dhó.)

Ní raibh mé ag dréim leis an dara teip – déanta na firinne, ní raibh mé ag dréim leis an chéad cheann ach thuig mé go raibh sí ag teacht! Chuir ollamh na Gearmáinise agallamh orm. Bhí sé i ndiaidh labhairt leis an ollamh sa Léann Ceilteach agus dúirt, agus a sheacht n-iontas air: “Deir sé liom go bhfuil ag éirí go maith leat sa Ghaeilge. Ní thuigim cad chuige nach bhfuil ag éirí go maith leat sa Ghearmáinis. Is deacra i bhfad an Ghaeilge ná an Ghearmáinis.”

Ó shin i leith, amharcaim ar an Ghearmáinis mar pháiste tabhartha de theanga; is í cúpla na Gaeilge í, an cúpla nár tháinig slán thar tairseach mo shaoil mar dhuine fásta. Níor thréig mé an teanga ar fad d’ainneoin an ghoinc acadúil. Lean mé liom ag freastal ar ranganna oíche agus ar chiorcail chomhrá a fhad agus a bhí mé ar an ollscoil. Bhí greim measartha agam ar bhunchomrá laethúil agus lean mé den léitheoireacht stuama – a fhad is go raibh an fuinneamh ionam an foclóir a tharraingt anuas den tseilf.

Tá beagnach 25 bliain caite agam ag déanamh staidéir ar an Ghearmáinis – nó, b’fhéidir gur chruinne dom a rá, go bhfuil eolas de chineál inteacht agam ar an teanga le ceathrú céid ó thosaigh mé á foghlaim ar scoil. Cainteoir taodach agus léitheoir coinsiasach mé. Dálta gach aon fhoghlaimeora eile, líonann agus tránn mo mhisneach.

Taitníonn cláir theilifíse liom agus amharcaim orthu nuair a bhíonn deis agam; bainim sásamh as corrabairt nua nó focal a thabhairt liom. Thairis sin, tá áiseanna níos comhaimseartha ann, scannáin ar nós Das Boot nó Rennen, Lola, Rennen. Amharcaim orthu le fotheidil agus múchaim na fotheidil chéanna i ndúil is go bhfaighidh mé greim iomasach ar an teanga.

Tá mo chuid léitheoireachta seanfhaiseanta agus ní raibh mé sa Ghearmáin féin ach uair amháin agus mé ar turas scoile. Is ionann mo chuid Gearmáinise agus an Ghaeilge atá ag Éireannaigh a rinne staidéar ar an teanga ar scoil; maireann sí ionam – ar éigean agus de thaisme – ach maireann sí ionam. Maireann fosta cuimhne na foghlama, an teagasc ranga agus ceachtanna neamhfhoirmiúla seachranga.

Is ionann mo Ghearmáin agus Gaeltacht an dalta meánscoile a chaith seal ar choláiste samhraidh – stop muid ar shráidbhaile beag, Boppard am Rhein, agus chuaigh ar turas báid ar Rhein Böll, thug cuairt ar Köln. Scuab plobaire mór de Ghearmánach muid den chosán agus é ag siúl na sráide leis an mhadadh ba lú dá bhfaca tú, luchóg de mhadadh a bhí ar iall aige. Thug sé meas “Engländer” orainn de bharr ár gcuid Béarla agus labhair linn go cantalach i mBéarla, ár ngríosú go giorraisc as a bhealach.

Chonaic mé an Ard-Eaglais a scriosadh sa Dara Cogadh Domhanda agus cheannaigh sceallóga ar imeall na habhann. Ní raibh dúil agam san uachtar bán a bhí leo agus d’fhoghlaim mé go gasta iad a iarraidh gan é: “Ohne Mayonnaise, bitte.”

Ba sa chathair a d’ith mé feoil aisteach lán piobair, Salami, den chéad uair. “Wie schmeckt’s, denn?” a d’fhiafraigh an múinteoir díom agus d’fhreagair mé é: “Es schmeckt gut, danke.” Tá sé blasta, a mhúinteoir, tá sé blasta. Thug mé suntas fosta don ghraffiti a bhí breac ar roinnt de na ballaí, RAF. Royal Airforce, a shíl mé. Ní hea, a dúirt múinteoir liom, grúpa sceimhlitheoireachta a bhí i gceist. Bhí an aibítir achrannach chéanna ag na Gearmánaigh is a bhí againn i mBéal Feirste.

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Dá olcas mé mo chuid Gearmáinise, tá drogall orm an snaidhm na teanga a scaoileadh ar fad agus ligean di imeacht as cuimhne. Chuirfinn snas uirthi dá mbíodh deis agam í a úsáid ach ní bhíonn. Baineann obair leis an chúpla focal féin a choinneáil.

Cad chuige a gcuirim an dua (ócáideach) orm féin? Tuigim go bhfuil an dara teanga dhomhanda de dhíth orm; tuigim go gcaithfidh mé an fhuinneog Eorpach seo a choinneáil ar oscailt i m’anam. Léim nuachtáin nó tig liom brí na nuachta a thabhairt liom. Léim ficsean agus filíocht inti ó am go chéile. Tugaim athchuairt ar sheanfhoinsí liteartha – Frisch, Dürrenmatt, Celan – agus léim le fonn an t-ábhar Gaeilge-Gearmáinis atá aistrithe ag Gabriel Rosenstock. Léitheoireacht fhalsa atá ann ach léitheoireacht phléisiúrtha; aclaíocht inteacht aigne.

Ach, thar duine ar bith eile, is é Heinrich Böll an té a mheallann ar ais mé i dtreo na Gearmáinise mar is é is fearr a thuigim. Ní hionann Böll na Gearmáinise agus Böll an Bhéarla; tarlaíonn athrú inteacht san aistriúchán. Aithním a chomhréir agus rithim a chuid abairtí. Is scríbhneoir beacht ealaíonta é ach tá ní níos mó ná sin i gceist le m’urraim; aithním a mheon; aithním an ceistiú agus, dá laghad an prós cruthaitheach atá scríofa agam, tá iarracht inteacht déanta agam é a mhúnlú de réir a eiseamláire, de réir a choinsiasa.

Ghlac Böll páirt sa Dara Cogadh Domhanda; coinscríofach sa Wehrmacht a bhí ann agus bhí sé lonnaithe sa Fhrainc agus san Oirthear. Gortaíodh é agus cheap arm Mheiriceá sa deireadh é. Murab ionann agus mórán, tháinig sé slán agus bhí sé i measc na scríbhneoirí nua a tháinig chun cinn i ndiaidh an chogaidh; chuir sé friotal liteartha ar thaithí ghránna dhaonna agus is saibhre litríocht na hEorpa dá bharr. Is ionraice an finné é ar ról agus ar chumas na litríochta é, bíodh sé ag cur síos ar an chogadh in Wo warst du, Adam? (Cá raibh tú, a Adaim?) nó ar an dochar a dhéanann cumhacht neamhshrianta an stáit, na bpóilíní agus an phreasa in Die verlorene Ehre der Katharina Blum (Onóir chaillte Chaitríona Blum) agus corraíonn a chuid gearrscéalta an croí agus an ceann.

Rinne Böll a anam ina chuid scríbhneoireachta; tá meáchan i mbuille a chuid leabhar ach ní leabhair mhóra throma thiubha theibí a scríobh sé. Thuig sé don chroí: tá greann ina shaothar agus gráin agus uafás agus seafóid an tsaoil agus grá. Sea, tá grá ann. Níor ghéill Böll don fholús.
Tháinig sé go hÉirinn agus scríobh Irisches Tagebuch faoina sheal abhus agus in iarthar na tíre ach go háirithe sna 1950í. Cheannaigh sé teach in Acaill agus tá sé ann ar fad agus é in úsáid go fóill ag ealaíontóirí. (Leoga, déanaimis scríbhneoir Gaeltachta de agus a chuisle chruthaitheach a aithint mar shnáithe eile in inneach cultúrtha réigiún sin na chéad teanga oifigiúla!). Bronnadh duais Nobel as litríocht air sa bhliain 1972 agus luaigh sé cás an Tuaiscirt ina óráid don duais sin. Bhí gean, eolas agus aithne aige orainn.

Muidinne atá ar snámh idir teanga náisiúnta agus teanga dhomhanda, idir luachanna traidisiúnta agus neamhluachanna comhaimseartha, idir lag trá agus lán mara, níor mhiste dúinn aithne a chur ar Böll arís – nó den chéad uair – agus leanstan den chomhrá Éireannach Eorpach in Acaill na Gearmáine agus na Gaeltachta:

»Dieser Tag«, sagte er, »war das nicht ein Prachtbürschchen?« Ich stimmte ihm zu; während ich ihn bezahlte, blickte ich nach oben, die schwarze Front eines Hauses hinauf: eben stellte eine june Frau einen orangefarbenen Milchtopf auf die Fensterbank hinaus. Sie lächelte mir zu, und ich lächelte zurück.
“Nach raibh an lá seo iontach?” a dúirt sé. Tháinig mé leis; nuair a bhí mé á íoc, thug sracfhéachaint suas ar thosach dubh tí agus bean óg go díreach ag cur mias buí bainne amach ar leac na fuinneoige. Rinne sí miongháire liom agus rinne mise miongháire léi. (Heinrich Böll, Irisches Tagebuch/Cín Lae Éireannach)

Foilsíodh an aiste seo ar Foinse, príomhnuachtán náisiúnta na Gaeilge, cheana féin

Vote Early And Vote Once!

It's that time of year again- the Irish Blog Awards have arrived!

Nominations close this week, so it would be much appreciated if each of you could pop around now and add nominations for El Blogador. The nomination form is here: http://awards.ie/blogawards/nominations/

According to the site, "Nominations for the 2008 Irish Blog Awards are now open. Please note that a blog can only be nominated for Best Blog and one other category excluding Best Blog Post. Choose wisely. Any person that nominates a blog for every category will have their nomination treated as spam and that nomination will be deleted," so despite a natural inclination to put El Blogador forward for every category, please don't!

Go raibh maith agaibh!

Camille versus Clinton

Hillary Clinton may still be basking in the glow of her New Hampshire victory over Barack Obama but she has a long way to go to win over every one in her own party. The women of New Hampshire won it for Clinton but one woman, academic and feminist Camille Paglia, is still not signing up for the Clinton campaign.

Paglia is as blunt as ever in Salon (www.salon.com) where she hammers Hillary Clinton for her “thin, spotty [political] record, tangled psychological baggage, and maundering blowhard of a husband, is also a mighty big roll of the dice. She is a brittle, relentless manipulator with few stable core values…” Paglia believes that the Clintons live to campaign; she is sceptical that Clinton could be elected and even if she managed that could not govern.

On the other hand, writes Paglia: “The current wave of support for Barack Obama from Democrats, independents, and even some Republicans is partly based on his vision of a new political discourse that breaks with the petty, destructive polarization of the past 20 years. Whether Obama can build up his foreign policy credentials sufficiently to reassure an anxious general electorate remains to be seen.

“I will vote for Hillary if she is the nominee of my party, because I want Democrats appointed to the Cabinet and the Supreme Court. But I plan to vote for Barack Obama in the Pennsylvania primary because he is a rational, centered personality who speaks the language of idealism and national unity. Obama has served longer as an elected official than Hillary. He has had experience as a grass-roots activist, and he is also a highly educated lawyer who will be a quick learner in office. His international parentage and childhood, as well as his knowledge of both Christianity and Islam, would make him the right leader at the right time. And his wife Michelle is a powerhouse.

“The Obamas represent the future, not the past.”

Still mourning

Victims were very much to the fore in two newspaper reports over the weekend. Suzanne Breen had an extensive piece in the Sunday Tribune with the sisters of murdered Belfast man, Robert McCartney. January 30th will mark the third anniversary since he was killed. The sisters told Breen that they were becoming dissatisfied with the political and legal system in Northern Ireland. One man has been charged with their brother’s murder. Police have told the sisters that, ideally, five should be charged with the killing.

All the McCartney sisters and Robert McCartney’s fiancée, Bridgeen Hagans, have suffered since his death. They have lost employment due to intimidation, suffered depression, been spat at and been driven from their home area, Short Strand, Breen writes. The sisters say they oppose the devolution of policing and justice powers to Stormont as Sinn Féin would be “unfit to administer” them. Paula McCartney says that: “The IRA were encouraged to murder Paul Quinn in south Armagh because they saw Robert’s killers get away with it.”

The killings on Bloody Sunday, Jan 30th 1972, were the subject of a two-page feature by Cole Moreton in the Independent on Sunday. John Kelly, brother of Michael Kelly (17) killed on that day, recalls the events 36 years ago: “We carried him [Michael] into a house … The woman there grabbed anything she could to try and stop the flow of blood.” Kelly still hopes that the soldier who killed his brother will be prosecuted: “The bullet retrieved from Michael’s body was traced back to his rifle. He’s a multi-killer who took the lives of four people that day. I had black hair black hair, now it’s white. I want to move on with my life. Once F is prosecuted, then I can get closure.”

The Independent on Sunday believes that the Saville report may not be published until May or June this year as “a fresh statement was taken from a witness just last month”.

Bloody garden

The Eames/Bradley consultative group are ruling nothing in and nothing out when it comes to labelling the Troubles ‘a war’ and offering an amnesty to all for past misdeeds. The reaction to the unsuggested suggestions has been negative from unionists and the SDLP – there was no ‘war’ and there should be no amnesty. The British government’s response has been more opaque – which is not surprising. The British government will do what suits them best; whatever offers them the easiest way out of the whole business of history and, more importantly for them, the courts, will be welcomed.

In terms of nationalism, it has been, as ever, unedifying to watch republicans debate the issue. They positively want the tag ‘war’ to provide cover for the actions of the IRA. ‘Armed struggle’ has a nice ring to it but ‘war’ is altogether more macho and will provide some spurious legitimacy as the old ‘soldiers’ become ever more grey and swap stories over pints. There is something repellent about this republican rush to embrace the tag ‘war monger’. No civilised person wants to remembered for waging war. The Balkans are full of butchers who took part in that recent war. Do any of them deserve respect for what they did? Mr Bush and Blair started a war in Iraq and their reputations will be forever tarnished by it. (Not that the tens of thousands of Iraqi dead would mind swapping the grave for something as trivial as a tarnished reputation.)

Republicans have done their very best to pitch their appeal for ‘war’ by repeating that it was them versus the British/unionists. What they never refer to is the number of innocent nationalists they killed. Catholic men, women and children gunned down and blown up while going to the shops or work or leaving Mass. The majority of those killed lived in areas that are now represented by Sinn Féin politicians and during the long years when the IRA did not enjoy any popular political support.

Despite being big on remembering their own dead, Sinn Féin ignore these deaths. The reason is quite cynical: the list of nationalists killed by the IRA is simply too long and the bones of these Catholic dead challenge the republican myth of good guys and bad guys too much. Imagine this though – if you were to put a red rose on the spot where every non-combatant nationalist was killed by the IRA, many ‘republican’ areas would take on the appearance of a very bloody garden.

Quinn campaign continues

The family of murdered south Armagh man, Paul Quinn, held a private meeting with the Independent Monitoring Commission before attending a public meeting in Castleblaney, Co Monaghan, last night, according to today’s Irish News. The family intend to meet with all political leaders in the Republic and the North – except Sinn Féin’s Gerry Adams – as part of their continuing campaign. The family will not meet with Adams until Sinn Féin retract allegations that Paul Quinn was involved in criminality.

After the meeting the Gardaí appealed for anyone with any information about the murder to come forward: “We are also appealing on those who were inside that shed and saw what happened when Paul Quinn was murdered to re-examine their conscience and come forward even at this late stage.”

Poetry and prose

Mary Dejevsky in The Independent today offers a feminist perspective on tonight’s clash for the Democratic nomination for presidency of the United States between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama in New Hampshire: “In a contest that pitches a black man against a white woman, the voters are plumping for the man. Despite all the efforts put into affirmative action in recent decades, gender – it seems – remains at least as great a liability as race.”

Dejevsky argues that age is a factor in this contest; men have the opportunity to get to the top quicker. What Hillary Clinton does not have “and almost no American woman politician will have even today – is the unbroken, focused career path that takes young-ish men within touching distance of the presidency. The stock of experience, contacts and exposure to the rough and tumble of the political process that propels them [men] to their political prime in their 40s may for women still be a generation or more away. This is not a question of youth versus gravitas or charm versus competence. It is about how US politics works and the preconceptions that voters of both sexes have about the presidency. If Hillary is not able to overcome these handicaps, there is probably no female politician in the US who could.”

She wonders what motivates Hillary Clinton into running for the presidency; suggesting that Clinton might have been pushed forward by the party hierarchy who know the value of her name and also because she might want to avenge her husband’s honour. That said, Dejevsky writes that “there surely has never been a female candidate as well qualified in every way to be president…” Dejevsky argues that Obama, at the tender age of 46, has “entranced, perhaps bamboozled, the voters, rekindling the flame of JFK … Self-congratulation is already in the air.”

Unrelated to Dejevsky’s article, I must mention that much has been made of Obama’s rhetorical skills. However, Clinton has come up with a line of her own which offers a very insightful critique of that gift of the gab. She told a rally: “You campaign in poetry, but you govern in prose.”

A nice line but will it catch the voters’ imagination?

The situation in Kenya

More than 250,000 people have been displaced and hundreds killed as a wave of violence and tribal strife sweeps the hitherto stable east-African state of Kenya. All this comes after Mwai Kibaki's dubious election victory a fortnight ago and allegations of widespread vote-rigging. The governments' failure to tackle corruption has meant it has lost the support of the people and Kibaki realised this. But why is the violence so fierce and what part have globalisation and outside influences played in creating such a situation?

Kenyan society is very complex and there are around forty different indigenous ethnic groups (of which the Kikuyu are the largest). It is amazing that democracy has flourished at all in such a pluralist culture and in a state with which many of the groups fail to identify themselves with. Supporters of opposition leader Raila Odinga have been carrying out attacks on the Kikuyu who are seen to be benefiting disproportionately from the Kibaki government. This violence has centred on the slums of Nairobi where Kibaki support is strong.

In 2002, in elections marked free and fair by international observers, power was transferred peacefully from the Kenya African Union to the National Rainbow Coalition (Narc) and the new government pledged to develop the economy and combat endemic corruption. However, this is not what has happened. The econony may have grown steadily in the past 5 years but wealth has not been shared equitably and corruption is still a major problem. The poverty in the slums and the feeling of resentment between tribes has helped to fan the flames of ethnic tensions, the rigged elections was the catalyst needed to provoke such a violent outbreak as we have seen in the past number of weeks. In 2006 in a brutal twist of irony the head of the Kenyan office of Transparency International was sacked for "major anomalies and irregularities in contracts awarded to a company run by persons with links to the executive director" and 3 senior Kenyan government ministers resigned over corruption claims. Some say a culture of impunity has been created and the necessary pressure has not been applied by Western observers on the government to combat corruption as Kenya (and Nairobi in particular) has become a great place to do business and a key ally in the War on Terror. One worker for the Danish International Development Agency notes:

“With the glaring corruption cases in Kenya for example, why should the World Bank give Ksh. 8.8 billion? Shouldn’t Kenya be allowed to put her house in order first? Donor countries are certainly contributing greatly to increased corruption.”

The World Bank has continued to plough money into Kenya following the government's resumption of a programme of privatisation and like in so many other African nations a lot of the countries capital ends up circulating in Western economies as a result of the corrupt dealings of the continent's own officials. According to the African Executive $140 billion has "over the decades been illegally and corruptly appropriated from Africa by politicians, businessmen and other leaders" and is stored abroad in tax havens and in the form of various assets.

All this corruption and the failure to tackle the real poverty in African nations has increased the potential for the violence we have witnessed on our television screens and it has damaged faith in democracy. It is not enough to blame the failings of democracy on the people themselves and the fractured nature of Kenyan society when their government, in cahoots with businesses willing to profit from the privatisations on which World Bank and IMF loans are conditional, conspire to reap the benefits of real economic growth. There have been some tangible successes in Kenya like the expansion of free primary education but what is needed now is a greater alleviation of poverty and the affluence necessary to allow the populations to overcome the tribal divisions that surface in times of strife. The various ethnic groups need to be able to come together in a united Kenya, one in which they have faith in and which is run by a government representing the interests of all. An end to corruption which is often indulged by those able to make money from it is needed to restore peoples' faith in democracy and their governments and real economic sovereignty of African nations must accompany popular political sovereignty. Only then can Africans control their own destinies and only then can the benefits of democracy be demonstrated. All widespread corruption and rigged elections does is to create anarchy and violence and Africa certainly does not need any more of that.

Derry tank Armagh

Armagh’s footballers began 2008 as they finished 2007 – losing to Derry. The Orchard County were tanked by the Oak Leaf county this afternoon in Lurgan, 2-9 to 06 in Derry’s favour in the first round of the McKenna Cup. I and a couple of thousand others made the effort to attend rather than watch it on TG4. Derry were certainly the better side, controlled the game for the greater part and cleaned up the breaking ball more often.

Armagh were certainly weak in the middle of the park and their forwards were not sharp enough when they did get a shooting opportunity. A missed penalty did not help Armagh’s chances either and they did have a number of key players missing. None of that should detract from Derry’s win, however. They played the better football for longer spells.

That said, there were two things did cheer Armagh – forward Brian Mallon back playing in the Armagh shirt after a very long absence through injury and the announcement at the end of the game that UUJ had beaten Tyrone. (It is never a bad day when Tyrone lose!)

Have to say that I was quite surprised that so many people turned out on such a cold day. It was certainly nice for the North Armagh GAA support – amongst whom I live – not to have to travel to Cross for a game. However, the sooner the Athletic Grounds are open again the better. Standing on the banks – be they in south or north Armagh – has little to recommend it at any time of the year.

And it was not just the ordinary fans who turned up for the game. Former Derry ace Joe Brolly was there; as was Armagh’s former captain Jarlath Burns, who was doing his bit on TG4, and I spotted former Armagh manager Joe Kernan leaving at the end of the match. Kernan is interviewed in today’s Sunday Tribune by Kieran Shannon. I don’t agree with all that is written therein. Shannon argues that Kernan inherited a team that was “washed up”. Not so. The two Brians, McAlinden and Canavan, made Armagh competitive and winners, taking them to their first Ulster title in 17 years and then, amazingly, another the following year. Kernan inherited a first-class set up and many fine players. Kernan certainly won Armagh one all-Ireland but many north Armagh followers will – whisper it – argue that he won the first with McAlinden’s team and that he let two others slip out of his grasp. (That said, every Armagh supporter is grateful that Kernan took them to the promised land.)

One thing that no one in Armagh will disagree with is Kernan’s belief that the all-Ireland Championship begins at the quarter final stage for Kerry: “That’s their [Kerry’s] first peak of the year. In Ulster we are beating the shite out of each other just to get to a quarter final.” Still, plenty of time yet to worry about the injustices of summer football. There will be more McKenna Cup action during the week and then there’s Division 2 of the National League for Armagh’s followers to look forward to.

Can't wait - and I am not being sarcastic!

Obama To Take New Hampshire?

After his sensational victory in the Iowa caucuses, it seems that US Presidential hopeful Barack Obama is riding the crest of a wave with the latest opinion poll to come out of New Hampshire putting him ahead of the Hillary Clinton. According to the most recent Rasmussen poll which was taken yesterday in the Granite State, where the next set of primaries takes place, support for the Illinois Senator sits on 37 per cent against his New York counterpart’s 27 per cent, a full ten points in the difference. This marks a complete reversal in fortunes for Obama, with all previous polls from the state showing a similar lead for Clinton over her rookie rival.

However, the overall trend in New Hampshire still lies in favour of Clinton. The average over the course of the five most recent polls puts the former First Lady on 33.8% and Obama on 29.6%. That said, the latest poll is the first to have been conducted in its entirety in the wake of Obama’s strong performance in Iowa a few days ago, and the Barack bounce from those caucuses is surely going to have a positive effect on his campaign moving forward. The job for Obama is to ensure that he maintains the momentum and capitalises on the recent stagnation of the Clinton campaign.

Meanwhile, the bookies have changed their tune on Obama, with Paddy Power offering 1-3 on the Harvard-educated hopeful taking New Hampshire, with Hillary Clinton’s odds sitting at 2-1 and John Edwards languishing at 20-1. In the longer term, Paddy Power is offering 5-6 on both Obama and Clinton respectively to secure the Democratic nomination to run for President, although the odds on them ultimately becoming President are 11-8 on Clinton and 2-1 on Obama. Meanwhile the Republican favourite is Rudy Giuliani at 6-1, followed by John McCain on 13-2 according to Paddy Power.

The Democratic and Republican primaries in New Hampshire take place on Tuesday, and afterwards we should have a good idea of how the campaigns of Obama, Clinton and Edwards are going, as well as being able to form a picture of how things are shaping up on the Republican side of the fence given that the Grand Old Party’s Wyoming primary takes place today.

Whatever the outcome of the Democratic contest, Barack Obama has certainly breathed life into the election campaign. In previous years there have been questions over the competence and charisma of candidates on both sides, but Obama seems to have broken the mould. During his meteoric rise to prominence, he has spoken differently from the rest of the political premier league in the USA. It still remains to be seen whether he can walk the walk to match his talk about a new kind of politics and a united and progressive nation- if he can, it would certainly mark a sea-change for the jaded and tired politics of America. Indeed, the hitherto apparent Democratic shoo-in Hillary Clinton is beginning to look like the epitome of the tired and grey political system against which Obama stands in stark relief. The fact that Clinton is now mimicking the language of change which Obama espouses shows the effect the young Senator’s candidacy is having.

It seemed a certainty that the politics of the Presidency would move back to the centre after eight years of Bush neo-conservatism, but with Obama apparently sparking so much interest with his fresh approach to America’s problems, we could see an even greater shift away from the right regardless of who wins the race for the White House in the Autumn.

(El Blogador will be featuring ongoing analyses of the race for the White House throughout 2008.)

Update, 9:08pm GMT 5/1/07: Mitt Romney is in line to win in Wyoming.

Whither The American Presidential Race?

There was somewhat of a shock last night in Iowa when Democratic Presidential hopeful Barack Obama comfortably defeated his Democratic rivals in the state caucuses. Indeed, Obama secured 37.6 per cent of the Democratic vote, with John Edwards winning 29.7 per cent and Hillary Clinton surprisingly being shunted into third place with 29.5. Despite a mammoth national campaign and massive financial backing for her candidacy, the former President's wife lagged considerably behind her younger and more dynamic rival.

Meanwhile, on the Republican side, unfortunately right-winger Mike Huckabee won with 34.3 per cent. He was followed by the Mormon ex-Governor of Massachusetts Mitt Romney who secured 25.3 per cent of votes. Other Presidential hopefuls including John McCain and Rudy Giuliani didn't bother to campaign in Iowa, instead deciding to focus on the bigger states.

Of course, the Iowa caucuses are just the first step towards the White House- they have no bearing on how other states will go in terms of the candidates they back. However, it certainly is interesting to see how well Obama did. There may be problems ahead for the man who hopes to be America's first black President though, with southern states possibly being more likely to back Clinton or Edwards. Meanwhile, when it comes to states where the other Republican candidates come into their own, it will be interesting to see how it affects the support levels of Huckabee and Romney. Interesting times ahead.

Compare and contrast

That famous picture of Ian Paisley and Martin McGuinness, the first portrait of the Chuckle Brothers in Stormont, May 2007, was reproduced in a number of newspapers last weekend. They are smiling for the cameras, kings of the castle. The picture has become ‘iconic’ and is the image by which both would like to be remembered: two hard men making their peace. Except along come the government records from 1977 to spoil the party and remind us all, once again, what the hard men used to do.

In 1977 the Derry IRA shot dead Jeffrey Agate, head of Du Pont in the city, and two other executives in the following weeks. The IRA statement spoke of the men having “played a prominent role in stabilising the British-orientated economy”. The Belfast IRA were not found wanting in the same department. They gunned down and killed a businessman James Nicholson as he visited a factory in west Belfast. (I imagine there are plenty of people in Sinn Féin now who used to support the IRA who would love a bit of stabilising economy, British or otherwise, for Derry and Belfast. It all provides a very grim background to the calls of republican entrepreneurs for investment.)

And then there is Ian Paisley. His file notes fears that he was “associated with paramilitaries” and there were a few images from the UWC strike of 30 years ago – a little reminder about how Paisley used to do business.

A more appropriate image to sum up the relationship between the DUP and Sinn Féin would have been the way in which DUP culture minister, Edwin Poots, dismissed Sinn Féin’s Gerry Adams during the Stormont debate over the Irish-language Act. It is only a few years since Adams was the Provo bogey man, a man feared and hated by unionists. Yet there was Poots, a relatively junior DUP figure, brushing Adams with casual ease. (Sinn Féin eventually retaliated later the same day – by attacking the SDLP’s Margaret Ritchie and her decision to confront the issue of the UDA and government funding.)

Poots pushing Adams aside was the real political story of 2007 – the year the DUP got the measure of Sinn Féin and Sinn Féin did not even realise it.

Move on

i

It was her daily routine. As soon as she dressed, she drew back the curtains in her bedroom. Then she went down stairs and opened the curtains in every single room to let the light flood into the house as quickly as possible. Once the curtains were open, she put on the kettle and prepared to go to school. It was after Tom’s death that she began to open all the curtains.

Before, it would not have bothered her one way or another to leave them closed. If anything, she preferred it that way. She could walk the house safe from prying eyes and do as she pleased. Now, however, she could not wait to open all the curtains. She needed to open them all. She could feel herself almost in a panic as she headed down the stairs and into the living room. She felt the fabric in her hands and drew them back with a sense of relief. There, it was done, the curtains were drawn; the house was in light, such as the light was in the short days of autumn and winter. Sometimes, she felt it so dark that it would scare a Norwegian.

She could not always reconcile the time on the clock, the beginning of the working day, with the darkness and gloom of an Ulster winter’s morning. But she carried on. After all, even on dark mornings the light of the moon and the stars was preferable to the deep, still darkness of the unopened curtains. The moon, she remembered reading, was lit by the sun. Indirectly, she could feel its rays on her skin. Even in December and January, the moonlight was a start, a little memory of summer. She disliked the winter especially and particularly the way in which the dark clouds choked the sunlight to death and she hated the way the rain would drown out what little light there was left in the sky. She could feel the drops washing away the beams one by one.

She had never considered herself religious, at least, not until Tom’s death, but once the curtains were open, she prayed: “He who walks with me, walks in the light.” She remembered the line from Tom’s funeral: “He who walks with me, walks in the light.” She said the line aloud, once, twice, a third time. She let the words leave on her breath. She could feel their lightness, feel them leave her and float up towards heaven. She opened her eyes. She had prayed. It was time to face the day.

ii

Her job as a teacher suited her. The work and the holidays suited her. She could put up with the bad manners of the pupils and parents knowing that she could leave them all behind and spend every summer in Spain. Spain had become her sanctuary after Tom’s death. As soon as the last report was marked and filed, she left in search of the sun. She reminded herself of a squirrel, hiding away sunlight in her soul for the coming autumn and winter. Sometimes, on really dark days, she would sit on her sofa, close her eyes and see the Spanish sun in all its glory. She could feel herself warm under its eye and let its memory push the shadows in Ireland away from her. The Spanish sun amazed her; it was so constant and strong.

She loved those summer months away. She could feel the sun as soon as she woke in the morning. There was joy in the sun’s company. She knew as she prepared to push back the wooden lattices that covered the windows that she would be greeted with warm light. Even at night, she knew the sun was not far from her. She could feel its presence in the darkness; she knew the sun would be there come morning, that it would not betray her with broody Irish rays. She got up to see day break on every day of her holidays. She would sit and face east and watch the crack of light begin to fill out before her and spill across the horizon. She watched as the shadows gradually disappeared before her eyes. The sun always came.

One year she had made the mistake of inviting some colleagues to stay with her for a while. They soon realised that she got up at daybreak no matter how much drink was taken the day before. At first, they thought it touching that she could be so taken with daybreak to rise so early. Gradually, they found her discipline wearisome, frightening even. One or two had made an effort to see the beginning of the day with her. They had asked her to wake them and she did so. She regretted her decision immediately. They could not be quiet and watch the sun. They had to comment on it: “Oh, it’s lovely.” “Oh, look at the different shades of orange.” Then the jokes began: “That’s great. I’ve seen that once. Don’t wake me tomorrow now. I’ll be too drunk.” She hated them for their remarks and their jokes. She hated them for ruining a single morning’s daybreak on her and she knew that her behaviour would go around the staffroom, that they would belittle her devotion to the light as being odd and sinister.

She found their words blasphemous; they had insulted the sun. She was tempted to ask them all to leave immediately. Then she thought that perhaps she should explain the importance of the ceremony to them. She didn’t in the end. It would have been too much like taking part in a silly chat show. She withdrew from them, found excuses not to go out eating and drinking with them and counted down the days, daybreak by daybreak, until they packed and left.

They did not understand her act of worship and her need for the sun; they did not realise that watching daybreak was like being baptised anew every day. She loved the way in which her skin gradually grew warmer in the light of a new day. She loved the way in which she could not see the rays which warmed her. She knew the science behind the sunlight but ignored it and preferred to embrace it as superstition, as a gift from above, as a new beginning, day after day, ray after ray. Her colleagues could not appreciate that. She left them in their ignorance. She would walk in the light despite them.

iii

“I don’t know why she is still missing him. He was a great loss, of course. I understand that it must have upset her greatly. It would upset anyone if their boyfriend was murdered. I could understand better had they been married. But they weren’t. You would think after all this time that she would have a bit of sense. Well, not sense. You know what I mean, that she’d be able to leave it all behind her. She’s not that old. She’s only in her 30s. That’s not old. Not really. Not nowadays. She could start again. Get another man. Couldn’t she? You know what I mean, don’t you? She’s not really a widow, is she?”

She heard the two staff members talking about her by accident. At first, she thought she should confront them but then decided against it. She hid herself, closed her eyes and listened to every word. Their talk needled her. Hadn’t they anything better to be doing than discussing her private life? They should mind their own business. She felt like gossiping about them, spreading a few rumours that she had heard. They deserved it. Yes, she’d put manners on them. But she didn’t. She carried their words in her head for the rest of the day and grew sick listening to them again and again. The head sent her home with a look that showed that he was both worried and tired of worrying about her. This was how her life seemed to others: “She’s not really a widow.”

And it was true. She and Tom had never married; they had not been given the chance to marry. She wasn’t a widow. But her loss and her mourning were a widow’s. The loneliness and emptiness were a widow’s. Yes. She had forgotten; they had not married. That was why no one understood her sorrow. She remembered the day she heard the news of his killing on the television. The murder was the headline on the mid-day bulletin. No name was given. She listened to the familiar details and thought nothing more of it. He was dead for hours before the police came to see her. His home address was not her home address. The police had told his parents and they, eventually, had asked them to contact her. Tom’s parents had never been friendly towards her. They were always too polite to say anything to her face but she could read their reticence in her presence. She was not the right sort for their Tom, not the right sort at all. She had not seen them since the funeral and they had made no effort to keep in touch.

She remembered the news reports and had a vague memory of her face on the front of a local paper. They had described her as the dead man’s “girlfriend”. “I’m not his girlfriend,” she said to herself, “I’m his fiancée.” She rubbed and rubbed at the engagement ring on her finger: “I’m his fiancée.” She wept with his parents, drank tea with them during the days before the funeral, walked with them, threw soil into Tom’s grave and left them that night for the last time. They were not her flesh and blood and she was not theirs. She and Tom would have married. They had plans to marry.

iv

It was her own parents who suggested to her that she should “move on” as the plates were being cleared after Sunday dinner. “Move on?” she asked them, “How? What do you mean?”
Her father spoke first. He was hesitant and unsure of how to put his feelings into words: “It was a tragedy what happened. A terrible tragedy. Every time I think about it, I get angry. I know you are still grieving and I know you are angry the police never got his killers. I know. It grieves me just as much… as it does your mother.’’

He looked towards her mother, his eyes begging her to intervene. Her mother didn’t hesitate and spoke clearly and calmly as if she had been preparing her lines for weeks. “Yes’’ her mother said, “a tragedy but don’t you worry. God will give his judgment. Don’t you worry about that. There will be a judgment and that judgment will be heavier and worse than any a judge in the courts in this world could give. I mean it. Have no fear of that.’’

Her mother paused and let her words slip into her daughter’s mind. She did not want her daughter to reply. She was happy to wait and watch her daughter’s reaction. She spoke again: “Your father and I feel you should move on. It’s been over five years since he – since Tom – was killed. That’s too long to be grieving. You must let him go. I know it’s hard. We all miss those we love. There’s not a week goes by that I don’t think about my own parents. You never accept it but you learn to live with it. You must learn to live with it. You must let him go.’’
“Let him go?’’ she said, “like a fish? You sound like some stupid Yank. Let him go. It’s easily said.”

Her mother ignored her and spoke again: “I didn’t say you should forget him. You shouldn’t. No one should forget him or what was done to him. It was a tragedy, like your father said. I know you were in love. I know you had plans but you must move on. You must leave that year behind you. Keep him alive in your heart. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything else but leave the sorrow behind; leave the tears behind. Pray for him and lead your own life. That’s what he would want. You know that. He wouldn’t want you to be unhappy.” Her mother stopped talking: “Did you hear what I said?” her father looked at her, his hands full of dirty plates and cutlery. They did not move. She spoke then: “You’re right. You’re both right. I don’t want to be alone.” Her parents smiled and her father sighed loudly: “Well, that’s all right then.”

“I would like Tom to be with me. That’s all I ever wanted; Tom to be with me,” she said.

v

Move on. Move on. Move on. She could not escape the words. Every morning as she opened the curtains, she heard her mother saying those words. In the classroom, she heard the words. Shopping, she heard the words. Everyone was judging her. She was at fault for missing Tom too much. She was at fault for being too loyal to him, for bearing witness to his being and his memory. She should move on. Her mother’s promise that God would judge his killers was no solace to her. She wanted them judged now. She wanted to see them judged. She wanted them to see what they looked like, to let them know what they done to her and Tom. She felt her old anger come to the surface again. She swore aloud at them and spent the night squirming alone in bed, until the sheets grew damp with her perspiration and tears. She could not sleep; she could not escape the words: “You should move on.”

The next morning she decided not to open the curtains but to move on.