The Troubles

Sunday, Bloody Sunday It has been said that the 20th Century was the most violent century since man started walking upright. From the Boer War to the Balkans, two world wars, revolution in Russia, "insurgency" from Algeria to Malaysia, from Vietnam to Angola. A bloody century and all of it more or less completely tragic. That context, perhaps, is what made last week's official apology of the new British Prime Minister, David Cameron, so unusual and, one can hope, so important. Cameron, still in the honeymoon of his recent election, took to the floor of the Commons to react to the years-in-the-making official inquiry into the bloody Sunday of January 30, 1972 in Londonderry (or Derry), Northern Ireland. Some British troops, ironically from the heroic and decorated Parachute Regiment, completely lost their heads on that Sunday and fired into a civil rights protest crowd. Eventually fourteen died and Ireland north and south started to bleed. Before "the troubles" sputtered out many years later - thanks in no small part to American help from George Mitchell and Bill Clinton - thousands more had died and violence by the gun and bomb had, in some ways, become a substitute for politics in Ireland. Cameron's comments all these years later about Bloody Sunday have reverberated across Ireland and Britain; indeed around the world. Here is part of what the young prime minister, not much more than a toddler when it happened, had to say: “Mr. Speaker, I am deeply patriotic. I never want to believe anything bad about our country. I never want to call into question the behavior of our soldiers and our army who I believe to be the finest in the world. “But the conclusions of this report are absolutely clear. There is no doubt. There is nothing equivocal. There are no ambiguities. What happened on Bloody Sunday was both unjustified and unjustifiable. It was wrong.” The press and political reaction to Cameron's words - and as much his tone - has been rather remarkable. John Burns, writing from London for the Times, compared the words of reconciliation to what happened in South Africa upon the election of Nelson Mandela. Bono, whose U2 song Bloody Sunday helped bring the outrage - an a call for peace - to world attention, said with his speech Cameron had gone from "prime minister to statesman." He called the speech "one of the most extraordinary days in the mottled history of the island of Ireland.." One of the best things I've read about Cameron's words and what they mean came from the pen of the fine Irish writer Colum McCann. His book Let the Great World Spin won the National Book Award for fiction last year. Writing at the Daily Beast, McCann noted that Cameron's apology came one day before Bloomsday, the one day in the Dublin life of James Joyce's character Leopold Bloom celebrated in Ulysses. McCann, with an Irishman's ear for the telling phrase, wrote: "Let’s take the apology. Let’s celebrate it. A wound was acknowledged. A further grief was stared into oblivion. It is, in its way, its own piece of literature. It was almost as if Anna Akhmatova had stepped in alongside the questioning (Leopold) Bloom to say—as she does in one of her poems—“You’re many years late, how glad I am to see you.” How much good can be done to say "we were wrong?" How much healing can come from "I'm sorry...I apologize?" In the long, bloody history of the last century, we have much - in our nation and in every nation - to regret and to acknowledge as wrong. Doing it requires so little, but it can mean so much. Maybe it is the start to understanding...and peace.

Hard Times in Ireland

Rotten Economy, Sex Scandals...At Least There's Yeats and Whiskey St. Patrick's Day has always been a bigger production in places like Boston, Chicago and Butte than in Dublin, Cork and Dingle. Good thing. There isn't a lot to celebrate this St. Patty's Day on the ol' sod. The Celtic Tiger has become the sick kitten of the EU. Unemployment has soared, bankruptcy has flourished and real estate has tanked. No potato blight yet, thank goodness.

Additionally, the Irish Catholic Church is reeling from yet another clergy sex abuse scandal. The Irish Times called this week for the resignation of the Cardinal who, it is said, should have reported the 20-plus year old incidents to the authorities, well, 20 years ago. Predictably, Cardinal Sean Brady said he would not resign unless asked to do so by the Pope. Meanwhile, the Pope is expected any day to speak out on the Irish scandal, while he fends off questions about the growing sex abuse scandal that occurred during his time in Germany. Did you follow that?

Meanwhile, in the midst of a crisis over the Euro and the continuing fallout over the collapse of the Irish real estate bubble, an Irish writer, Ann Marie Hourihane, makes the case that ol' St. Pat himself has fallen on hard times.

The old boy, she writes, "invested heavily in property during the boom, buying houses and apartments not only in Ireland but also in Wales, Brittany and even Scotland...(and) recently St. Patrick has had trouble sleeping. The crozier is in hock. It is an ignominious position for a saint who has worked so hard for, and been worked so hard by, his country.

"It’s not that St Patrick objects to us being poor – again. He loved us most during the centuries in which we were destitute, badly fed and flirting with cannibalism. As far as any patron saint who takes the long view is concerned, things have just about returned to normal."

There you have it.

Even Guinness - remember, "It's Good For You" - is facing new competition in, of all places, Britain where a cross between lager and bitter - black lager - grows in popularity. Talk about a scandal.

Nonetheless, amid the gloom, I'll celebrate all things Irish today with a dram of Jameson (or Powers or Red Breast) and think particularly of the great Irish writers - Yeats, Wilde, Joyce, Beckett, Heaney, Shaw and one recent worthy, John Banfield. Thank God for the Irish writers.

I'll also remember, apropos to the times perhaps, this great line from the great Yeats: "Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy."

Well said and so very Irish. On March 17th, we can all, at the very least, wish to be Irish. Happy St. Patrick's Day.