Learning Irish: talk about pointless

What do you think of Gerry Adams’s Irish? You know, when he stands up in the Dail and talks for the first minute or two in the Irish language, before lapsing into English? 

Some people like it. More say they find it embarrassing - so clumsy, so unmusical, so...Northern. Get that last bit? Denounce the use of Irish because of the accent of the speaker. Especially if it's northern.

Although I can see why the nay-sayers say nay. Gerry Adams’s rumbling bass  in truth is not the most musical of sounds, and compared to the Irish of, say, Michael D Higgins, it’s primitive. But so what? God gave us all a voice (and  face) with which we're stuck.  Gerry Adams’s Irish may be unmusicaI or sometimes halting but it’s a damned sight better than my Irish. Or maybe even yours. Follow the criticisms lobbed at his Irish to their logical conclusion, you end up saying if someone can’t speak glittering, graceful Irish they shouldn’t speak it at all. Which is a bone-headed thing to say in any language.

Meanwhile that man of wisdom Kevin Myers was last week lamenting in his column that he hadn’t been able to appear on an RTÉ’ programme last week which examined the Irish language. It seems the poor man was chopping logs and would you believe it, a sliver of wood jumped up and hit him in the mouth really, really hard. (No, Virginia, it is NOT polite to say what you've just said.) Kevin’s view  on Irish, which he would have given if he hadn’t got that dig in the gob from the wood? Criminal waste of money. Stupid trying to revive it. Exercise in futility and hypocrisy. 

Dear Kevin, like so many others, works from the basis of Irish-as-something-useful, which is the wrong place to start from.  Not everything has to be ‘useful’. I’ve a photograph of my parents on the wall which I glance up at now and again. Some days you’ll find me out in the garden staring at my wind-whipped crocuses and daffodils. Other days you’ll find me reading a bit of poetry. None of those activities falls into the Useful category  but I wouldn’t be without any of them. In fact, some of the most important things in our lives don’t qualify as Useful :  giving a child a hug, listening to music, looking at a great painting.

So if Irish never becomes the everyday language we use to get things done, I’ll not be too bothered. On the other hand, if steps aren’t taken to ensure that the Irish language survives, I’ll be leppin’ mad. Each language has its own  unique take on the world. The very thought of letting something which comes to us across so many centuries, that delivers the world to us in a uniquely Irish way - the very thought of letting something so glorious and complex die is verging on sacrilege.

But if you're talking about the teaching of Irish, there's room for thought. Back in the 1950s tough-knuckled Irish teachers  taught many of us quailing  before them just one thing: to hate the language. Mercifully the brutality of those  days is gone;  but wouldn't it be great if we could teach Irish here the way English is taught in the non-English-speaking world?  Because at the present time, continental visitors  put our Irish fluency to shame with the fluency of their English.  

It’s good that all those buildings all over the world got lit up in green last Sunday. It’d be even better if the elegance and wonder of the Irish language could be spot-lighted in a way that’d help us see  the treasure  we have right under our nose. And then change language admiration for language mastery.

Health provision: it'd make you sick

Maybe you saw it. It was on BBC Newsline 6.30, I think, some days ago: a map showing how the proposed development of hospital provision would look here in the north. The suggestion seemed to be that hospitals would consist of a series of central hospitals, like the RVH and Altnagelvin, with satellite hospitals linked to them. 

Two of these hospitals caught my eye: Altnagelvin and the one in Fermanagh. Why? Because they were so close to the border. Clearly the Health Minister has in mind organising things so that the best care is available to people in the north through careful planning of provision. Fair enough - nothing makes more sense. You have to have your development and provision in the place where sick people need it. 

But for the greater part - in fact almost entirely - the concern is with people living in our little northern statelet only. There are exceptions - for example the radiotherapy unit in Derry also serves patients in Donegal and Sligo. But by and large the north plans for the provision of health services to people north of the border, the south to people south of the border. Where facilities are shared, as in Derry, it’s on an ad-hoc basis. In other words, the isolated case is so blindingly obvious, it’s accepted. 

Imagine if you had two businessmen working in the same village, offering the same service. From time to time it’d be glaringly obvious that co-operation would allow them to secure a contract that, acting alone, they never could secure. What would the businessmen, if they had half a brain, sit down and do? They’d map a strategy, looking at possibilities for working together over the next ten years, say, and they’d build their businesses with this co-operation-to-mutual-benefit built into it.  They wouldn’t wait for the opportunity to come up and bite them in the bum, galvanising them into action. They’d have foreseen or even created opportunities by joint planning. 

Is that happening now? I’m open to correction but I very much doubt it. Edwin Poots is fearful of what his electorate might say if he got too close to the Health Service in the south and was seen to be planning medium and long-term provision, as distinct from immediate needs. In fact our health service in the north is built as though we were exactly like the rest of the UK. We’re not. For a start there’s a large body of water lies between us and them, making the journey to avail of services across that water daunting. The obvious logic is that more attention - planned, long-term attention - needs to be paid to using and developing all of the health facilities on this island. Sick people don’t give a damn if something doesn’t look well politically speaking. They just want the best provision.  And a major part of that is, how easy is it to get to the treatment. Right now we’re wearing blinkers - or rather the two health departments are wearing blinkers - that allow them to see only that which is directly beneath their noses. I bet  Edwin Poots’s party doesn’t do its political planning in such a perversely purblind way. 

Victims of the Troubles: should they decide the punishment?

It’s probably not unique. There likely are parts of the world where, when the judge has passed sentence on the guilty party, he/she turns to the victim or a relative of the victim and asks “Any other punishment you’d like to add?” There may even be countries which sign international treaties and then ask some (although not all) of those  who’ve suffered - “Even though the terms of the treaty have been fixed and ratified years ago by both sides, would you like us to change it in some way?”

That’s essentially what has happened with Jim Allister’s bill in Stormont yesterday. Even though the terms regarding those involved in the conflict have been agreed,  that will now change so that anyone with a prison sentence longer than five years will find it difficult if not impossible to be hired as a political advisor. To give Jim Allister his credit, he’s probably thinking of the pain the victims feel and how appointment of someone as a political advisor might add to that pain. He’s less likely to be thinking with his barrister brain about the notion that democratically-determined rules will change at the behest of the victim. 

But why stop at political advisors? Why not block the path of ex-prisoners towards other kinds of work?  Stop them becoming taxi-drivers (oh, right - they’ve blocked that already,  you say?),  stop them becoming teachers or accountants or dentists or doctors?  Or even politicians....Whoa, whoa. That doesn’t fit. There are a number of politicians in Stormont, from the Deputy First Minister down, who make no secret of their paramilitary involvement in the past. Shouldn’t there be a campaign to have them removed? They didn’t all serve five years and more of prison sentences but that’s probably only because they weren’t caught. They’re all Shinners anyway, so to have them removed would serve a dual purpose: cater to the pain of the victims - or at least the victims of republican violence -  and at the same time get us back much nearer the old days, when a puny Nationalist opposition squeaked and squeaked again as the unionist majority steamroller rolled over them again and again and again. 

At the risk of repeating myself: victims are the last people who should be allowed decide how those found guilty should be punished. That’s because by definition they are victims and therefore would find it hard - in some cases impossible - to be dispassionate about allocating even-handed punishment. Nor should any group or individual, however much sympathy they deservedly elicit,  be allowed to arrange for changes to international treaties. In fact, for the reasons I’ve given, they should be the last people allowed to do so. 

If, however,  you think they should be the first,  you’ll have to make sure all victims get to rearrange what’s been agreed, not just those with the loudest voices.  Right?

Can I interest you in some quality Death?

Psst - care to buy a gun? No?  Just as well, actually, as I don’t have one for sale. But I know 

where you can get one. And much, much more.

Because arms sales is a massive business which brings in ( wait for it) $1.000 billion 

annually. Hold that thought for a second. If they suspended sales for a year and took the 

money that would have gone into weaponry, they could solve the deficit problem for dozens 

of countries at a stroke. But that’s not going to happen. 

So what death-dealing kind of weapons get sold and by whom? Well, you’re spoiled for 

choice. If you’ve got the money you can get  not just guns but light, medium, and heavy 

tanks; self-propelled artillery; self-propelled assault guns, guided missile patrol boats, fighter 

and bomber aircraft that can go at speeds above Mach 1, helicopters, surface-to-air missiles, 

surface-to-surface missiles and anti-ship missiles such as the Harpoon, the Silkworm, the 

Styx and last though far from least, that old faithful from the Falklands days, the Exocet. 

That’s a lot of death-dealing weaponry. So who’s doing all the selling of this gear? Well, surprise, surprise, the United State of America leads the field. Odd, eh? The US spends a lot of time worrying about the build-up in arms throughout the world, and from time to time has to send its soldiers to fight and die in places like Iraq and Afghanistan; yet it’s top of the league by a country mile in the sale of death-dealing weaponry of all kinds. After the US we get Russia, coming in with a measly 17%, France with 8% and the UK with 5%. At least, that’s what a report for Congress said last year. To its anxiety, there are signs that UK sales are slipping. Talk about incompetence -  Cameron’s coalition can’t even keep up with selling instruments of death. 

Who buys all this stuff? Well, 39% is sold to developing countries. You heard me. Countries which could well do with food or financial support or decent infrastructure get instead weapons with which to kill each other or their neighbours. Next up after that we get that fine democracy Saudi Arabia, which accounts for 21%. The United Arab Emirates gets a measly 6%, India 13%. 

You see the pattern. Where Western interests are strongest ( that is, where there’s oil), the US and others happily set the arms sales cash register ker-chinging, and please just forget all that mealy-mouthed nonsense about democracy and human rights. If you or I were to sell so much as a revolver and were caught, we’d be bunged into jail;  the US and the UK can sell hundred of millions worth and nobody says a peep. And should anyone complain, there’s always an MP or some such to point out that jobs would be lost if the arms trade was curtailed. And of course sales go to countries that should instead be spending on building the national infrastructure and feeding its people. But hey, if you’re going to go into the weapons business, go into it big-time and you’ll stay safe. 

And of course there’s nothing teaches like example.  That rocket-launcher seized in Derry a few weeks back came from Russia with love. The people who planned to use it must have felt considerable moral encouragement when and if they looked at the arms sales enthusiasm of the countries which mouth the make-peace  mantra. When big bucks are at stake, morality goes to the wall. 

Cardinal Napier: it's good to talk

There are certain trigger words that drive people wild - their wits go out and reflex responses set in. This weekend and this morning Stephen Nolan’s radio show was knee-deep in trigger words. What words? “Catholic clergy sexual abuse”. Stephen did an interview with Cardinal Wilfred Napier of South Africa, in which the cardinal raised the question of whether paedophilia is simply a crime or whether it’s a psychological illness of which the paedophile is himself a victim. 

That question hasn’t been answered, or if it has been I haven’t come across it. If I am in control of my actions, I must be held responsible for them. If I am not in control of my actions, I cannot be held responsible for them. The nearest - but imperfect - parallel I can think of is alcoholism. Some believe alcoholism is a disease and requires treatment - the alcoholic is in the grip of something he can’t control. Others believe an alcoholic is a drunk who chooses to abuse himself and often others and should be punished.

Cardinal Napier went on to say that someone who was abused and then went on to abuse is at least partially not responsible for their actions. I’m more dubious about that - in fact I’d disagree with him, certainly if he’s suggesting that when  a person has been abused it’s inevitable that they go on to abuse. There are a lot of people who’ve been abused who don’t  go on to abuse, so that notion of the inevitable repeat of the crime falls down. I suspect the cardinal was trying to indicate that past experience can shape future experience. That’s certainly true. But the inevitability bit doesn’t stand up. 

So. I look forward - among people who are prepared to deal with the subject in a rational way -  to discussion of this crime-or-condition issue, with expert opinion being fed in. Victims should be part of this discussion but we should keep in mind that because they have been wounded so deeply, it will be harder for them to deal with the subject dispassionately, which is what it needs.

One other matter related to child sexual abuse that’s not been addressed and should be: is the level of abuse among Catholic clergy higher than in other Churches or religions, or in the wider community? Put bluntly, is your child more likely to be abused by a Catholic priest than they are by a minister, a rabbi, a scout master or their uncle? Ugly, yes, but for that very reason in need of some facts and figures. 

A night with David Norris

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=NMKQRNwuQ9g

I was late for David Norris at Colaiste Feirste last night but I’d no bother finding the room where he was performing: the rolling, booming tones were unmistakable and echoed down the hallways. He was being interviewed by William Crawley as part of Féile an Earraigh, and over 90+ minutes he was incorrigible. A question - or sometimes no question - would set him off, and anytime Crawley tried to intervene, the Dublin senator would place a restraining hand on the BBC man’s arm or knee and keep rolling along at full volume. 

He was there promoting his book A Kick Against the Pricks, but you could tell his heart was in his own performance rather than gaining sales. He grabbed at Crawley, he stood up, he shook hands with an audience member and told that meant they were now lovers, he imitated the mincing walk and high-pitched voice of gay men he knew, he slid in double entendre after double entendre. It was like watching Frankie Howerd with a beard and a posh Dublin accent. 

Much of the time was spent telling the audience about the lies and smears the media invented against him during his presidential candidacy (see clip above). Other times he spoke of his love of the British monarchy, imitated an encounter he had with Princess Anne’s husband, claimed blood-relationship with just about every earl and nobleman in Ireland back to St Patrick. It was an over-the-top, occasionally hilarious one-man show. During the questions-from-the-audience bit, I asked him what he thought of the media’s treatment of Martin McGuinness during his presidential bid. As with nearly every question asked, he started with a half-answer and then quickly rolled away into a breathless, complicated tale of something that had happened to him.  Think of trying to lift mercury with a fork and you’ll have some idea of what it was like. 

In many ways Norris is representative of a southern view of the north - two warring tribes locked in irrational combat, with sensible people ( for example his part in the Peace Train campaign) trying to counter this irrationality. Oh, and how good it was we’ve all moved on from those dark days. It was hard to disagree with the second part; it was hard to listen to, let alone agree with, the first part. 

There are those who say Senator Norris likes the sound of his own voice. Not so. He loves it. And there’s no denying his presence in a room unfailingly adds to the gaiety of nations, in every sense. You get the feeling he’s making stuff up as he goes along, but he does it with such toffish gusto it’s near irresistible. Next you know, you’re nodding agreement with his monarchist/libertarian/they’re-an-odd-lot-up-there take on politics. 

And then on the way out, I met a woman who said she'd read an article I'd written about Marian Price and how much she'd liked it. She'd been at school with Marian Price - "An ordinary wee girl" - and now she was in prison or prison hospital, and might well end her days there if the whim of a British Secretary of State dictated so.  The road from David Norris doing his on-stage stand-up to Marian Price in a prison: that's a long, long road. 

End of 'No Pope there'

The bit I liked best was when they announced - in Latin - the name of the new Pope and everyone in St Peter's Square, including the media, sat with their lower jaws hanging. Who'd he say? Who he? I love it when the experts are found clothes-less.

So what else is there to be cheerful about this papal election?  Here's a few.

1. It was almost mind-bending to see the amount of space and time - non-critical - that was spent on the retirement of Benedict, the run-up to the election, the election and its aftermath. Normally the media follow "Catholic Church" with "clerical sexual abuse", as though abuse were confined to the Catholic Church. Refreshing, I'd say.

2.  The new man - it seems odd to be saying 'Francis' - is a Jesuit, which in my book is one up for him. Certainly in Ireland, and historically, Jesuits have been fearless and selfless, by and large. If you want a good example, check out Peter McVerry. They've also a reputation for being smart, which is nice. 

3. From what we're told, he's a man who's a bit impatient with pomp and splendour. Let's hope he carries that into his papacy. It's a bit hard to think of Christ's top man on earth, his Vicar/Viceroy, surrounded by riches and splendour, when the Man Himself was the polar opposite.

4.  He's from South America, which is a place I know little about (as anyone will tell you, and sometimes me); but it's far, far away from the Roman Curia and that can't be bad. It'll make it easier, I hope, for Francis to bash a few heads together and let them know fings ain't going to be wot they used to be.  I hope.

5. He's Argentinian - or is that 'an Argentine'? - which will add an interesting little wrinkle to the Falklands/Malvinas story. I was briefly on the Nolan Show this morning and Stephen asked me...well for a moment I wasn't quite sure what he was asking me. Then it turned out to be a question - I think - about the fact that Francis might be on the side of Argentina in the Malvinas question. Cheesh. I live thousands of miles from Argentina and I'm on the side of Argentina. Francis is from  there. 

But anyway, let's hope the media at least give him a honeymoon period, if that's the kind of term I should use for a celibate Pope. I guess it's just a question of time before some commentators start demanding to know why he didn't lead an assault on dictators Bignone and Galtieri, but for now there's a definitely positive air within the Catholic Church. And it's been a long time since that was the case.