It's fifty years after JFK’s visit to Ireland,
which explains why Ryan Tubridy’s foot is tapping like Thumper on speed under
his desk. With the Obamas on our shores
fifty years to the week since that momentous visit, what’s left of America and
its court at Camelot? A bunch of fluff and bull, as it turns out, not that it
stopped us gorging on it, eating off retro sixties Formica plates.
By pure coincidence, the G8 met in Fermanagh the week of the anniversary. Treacle oozed out of my radio speakers, as the circle
was complete, at least as far as RTE was concerned: Another Democrat
President with film star qualities and Irish links was here on the old sod. Never
mind that Obama's ties to Ireland are more tenuous than Andy Townsend’s claim to save
with the Irish Permanent - things were Offaly grand
this week as we basked in the knowledge that world affairs were being directed
a son of the Faithful County.
We got the full, hard hitting coverage, as RTE went
into nostalgia overdrive. The Obamas were
the kerosene on a bonfire of JFK hokum: beacons of broadcasting gold being lit
from Montrose to the back-arse
of New Ross all the way to Fermanagh via
Glendalough and Dalkey. From a million midges in Wicklow, to a millionaire midget in a pub
in Dalkey, every movement of the US
first family was documented by the national broadcaster, who told us they had
the greatest time ever anywhere of any human at any time in history.
Back in the real world, Barack was trying to solve
intractable geopolitical problems like: wondering what the hell Dave
Cameron puts in his hair to keep it that way and why his NSA staff are always
surfing the net. His thoughts got derailed by some blondie gobshite with
a walk like a kick in the knackers, who kept banging on about not being worried
about changes to international tax law, whist crying into his Google-branded hanky, wearing a t-shirt
saying “Mr 12 ½ %”.
Conveniently overlooked was the fact that the main event was in the
UK, and this was all at Mr Cameron's behest. FLOTUS and the kids going
south was a not unpleasant sideshow. Soon enough, Berlin beckoned, as they
followed Angie and the trail of burning Drachma notes she left in her wake.
Our interest in this visit was
parochial, evidenced by the empty and undignified fawning over our day trippers from Washington. Whilst JFK visited us specifically, what does it say about Ireland fifty
years on that we so desperately sought importance from this least important
aspect of a visit taking place in the North, in which we had no hand, act
or part? Is it right to seek something about a visit that really had nothing to do with us, other than to keep Obama's wife and kids occupied for a few hours? Is it not really a sign of just how flabby we've
become in our thinking?
We are arch practitioners of this sort of
pantomime: whilst Glendalough is
indisputably gorgeous, and we rightly showcased it, what was it for?
Our sense of our importance by connection with the US, by blood ties and
tax breaks, may to some be canny, but only if it gets you something, be it investment or respect. That was
the reason for this approach in the past. What is really Irish – the
social and cultural complexities, the grim beauty of our people and land – was airbrushed to fit a hackneyed
formula. They even took them to Riverdance - the 20 year old Riverdance - to show our cultural vitality.
If the sideshow had had any importance, it would
have come from changing the paradigm, even a little: The Obamas would have done more good for
Ireland and had more fun visiting the poorest in Dublin – but no, we play to
pastiches and they got schlepped off to a diddyparlour in Dalkey to have their ear bent by southside alicadoos over Cottage Pie instead. Ironically, US reportage
of the ‘bored’ Obama daughters shows the jig is up.
As if on cue, another event showed the double standards our blinkeredly lazy world view possesses. In Dublin, Japanese PM Shinzō Abe
was greeted with utter indifference by the media and the public. This, despite
the global economic significance of his country. It was also the first visit of
a Japanese head of government since independence. It is mortifying not only
because of Japan’s significance as a global player, but because it’s rude. It shows how
unless they speak English, we couldn’t give a toss. Now isn’t that the measure
of a country in need of friends?
We need to kick our American habit and begin to
welcome everyone equally. We need to realize that by playing the
cuddly eejits, we'll have little else to back up any claim that
Google or Intel or any other multinational should stay here in the event that
corporation tax takes a lift to the top floor.
Imagine if we showed our
authentic selves. We might actually to turn that notorious corner with greater skill
and flourish and sooner than we will on our present, stodgy strategy. If we showed ourselves in this manner abroad we might - just might -
get taken seriously.
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