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Tuesday, December 31, 2013

plan A

We're brilliant at Plan B - what we need to do some work on now is Plan A

Opinion: Plan B is fecking off, and we're the world champions at fecking off

Catching a plane somewhere: the Irish have learned well how to be the same people in different places. Photograph: PA

Catching a plane somewhere: the Irish have learned well how to be the same people in different places. Photograph: PA

Tue, Dec 31, 2013, 12:01

   

It is something of a truism that Ireland badly needs a Plan B. In fact, we have Plan B and we're very good at it. What we need is Plan A. We have no problem with alternative strategies – we just can't manage the thing they're supposed to be an alternative to.

Plan A for Ireland is the same as for any state that emerged from the turmoil of the breakup of empires after the first World War. It is what those who participated in the nationalist revolt a century ago imagined they were creating: a stable democratic state with a reasonably prosperous economy and an independent place in the world. There is always an element of utopian idealism in such revolts but this was not an unreasonable expectation. Ireland had at least as good a chance of achieving it as any other new state that emerged between or after the wars – much better than many.

Plan B is fecking off. Sometimes it's an active strategy: 200,000 people have left during the present crisis. But it goes much deeper than that. Even if you don't actually leave, the possibility occupies a part of your brain. Consider the extraordinary figure that emerged last week from a survey of Irish workers by the recruitment firm Hays. It found that 67.4 per cent of those surveyed would consider leaving Ireland if their career prospects do not improve over the next three years. These surveys have to treated with some caution but this result is broadly consistent with similar research done by Hays in recent years.


The public and the personal Irelands
Plan A and Plan B have different narratives, different histories. They belong, indeed, to two starkly contrasting Irelands, the public and the personal. Plan A is a public story of liberation from the British empire. Ireland broke away, asserted its independence, formed a state and tried to create a collective identification with that state. This story is based on one overall assumption: that Irish citizens see their personal futures as being inextricably linked to the future of their State.

Plan B is in many respects an inversion of Plan A. It is a kind of alternative Irish history in which nothing much really happened between 1916 and 1923. In this other story, there is no break with anything – there is a continuity of mass emigration over centuries. There is no liberation from the British empire. Where are our emigrants still going? To places whose stamps still have Queen Elizabeth's head on them.

The biggest long-term impact of the British empire on Ireland was that it opened up places for Irish people to emigrate: North America, Australia and, of course, Britain itself. That pattern still holds, even with the US playing, for moment, a declining role. In the year to April 2013, 22,000 Irish people emigrated to the UK, 15,400 to Australia and 5,300 to Canada.

Monday, December 30, 2013

maze

Ban on Irish speaking in Maze prison sparked political row

Prison authorities defended regime for security reasons

Gerry Adams: Sinn Féin leader had distributed a questionnaire to IRA prisoners asking for "details of ill treatment". Photograph: Pat Langan

Mon, Dec 30, 2013, 01:00

   

The use of the Irish language in the Maze prison caused a major headache for the Northern Ireland Office in the early 1980s, according to previously confidential files released in Belfast.

One of the controversies was sparked by Brendan Ó Cathaoir, an Irish Times journalist who wrote to the minister for prisons at the Northern Ireland Office, Lord Gowrie, on June 15th, 1982, to protest against the decision of prison staff to end a meeting between him and a prisoner that was being conducted through Irish.

Ó Cathaoir told the minister that he had visited Hugh Rooney, a prisoner in the Maze, a few days earlier.

"A few minutes after the visit had started," he went on, "a warder intervened and asked: 'are you speaking a foreign language?' (We had been conversing in Irish because of Mr Rooney's interest in the language). I answered 'No'."


Visit terminated
The reporter was asked to sign a form, after which the visit was terminated.

He told Lord Gowrie: "The reason given was that we had spoken in Irish. At no stage were we told explicitly that English must be used."

The warder could produce no written evidence for such a restriction. In conclusion, he told Gowrie: "Please don't tell me that it has anything to do with security. This gratuitous insult to the Irish identity of these prisoners serves no other purpose than the perpetration of hatred and violence in Ireland. Those who govern the Northern Ireland prison population feed a cycle of fanaticism."

The matter was also raised by John Hume, MEP and SDLP leader, in a letter to Lord Gowrie questioning the legal basis for such a policy.

In a note on the file, John Mitchell from "prison regimes" branch noted that governors were instructed under prison standing orders to ensure that all visits took place in English, unless either party was incapable of conversing in the English language.

"Such a restriction is necessary on security grounds to enable officers supervising visits to effectively monitor conversations," he wrote. While they could not depart from this rule, he had asked the prisoner governor to brief the officer on duty so that a visitor speaking Irish would be warned to continue in English or have the visit terminated.

In his reply to Hume, Lord Gowrie said he was sorry that Ó Cathaoir had had his visit terminated, but the instruction to governors was quite explicit that visits to prisoners should be "in sight and hearing of the prison staff".


Fluency in Irish
"This is rendered ineffective if staff are unable to understand the language used. You will understand that we have difficulty, to put it no higher, in finding staff who are fluent in Irish," wrote the minister.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

water

Ming deserves an apology from Sean Barrett

The Ceann Comhairle's hysterical outrage can only be described as 'bullshit', writes Gene Kerrigan

Luke 'Ming' Flanagan TD/>
Luke 'Ming' Flanagan TD

IT'S extremely rare for anyone to question the Ceann Comhairle's behaviour -- presiding over the Dail, he seems practicably invulnerable to complaint, no matter what he does or says. Which makes it all the more important that his behaviour be freely examined.

On Thursday, December 19, Ceann Comhairle Sean Barrett chastised a member of the Dail, unfairly and inaccurately accusing that member of criminal behaviour. He said things that were not true.

Worse, he treated without respect the legitimate concerns of the people of a part of Roscommon, as expressed by their elected member in a wholly legitimate way.

Apologies are surely called for. From the Ceann Comhairle, Sean Barrett, for his questionable behaviour. From Ray Butler TD, Fine Gael, and Ruairi Quinn, Minister for Education, Labour, who expressed support for this behaviour. The Committee on Procedures and Privileges backed the Ceann Comhairle's behaviour (he chairs the committee).

Failure to hold the Ceann Comhairle, and the others involved, to the highest standards would be to declare the Dail a place where the normal civilised rules of conduct don't apply.

We are dealing here with Ming Flanagan. Ho, ho, ho. Let's get the laughs out of the way, first. The lad with the exuberant beard, the centre parting and the ponytail, the one who expounds on the values of pot. The media, where it bothered, treated what happened before Christmas as another example of parliamentary mirth. It was not. If the Oireachtas matters -- and I'm probably in a minority who believes that it does -- what happened wasn't the least bit funny.

Here's what happened.

The Dail was dealing with the second stage of the Water Services (No 2) Bill 2013. Minister for State Fergus O'Dowd led for the Government. The Bill was controversially being pushed quickly through the Dail.

That Thursday morning, Ming Flanagan stood up and grounded his short speech in the requirements of the Sale of Goods and Supply of Services Act 1980. He behaved impeccably. (Flanagan can behave badly -- the penalty points debacle springs to mind. That day, he was making a serious point in a graphic way.)

He told of how water supplied to the area around the town of Castlerea is unsuitable for drinking. "Kids outside my town cannot even brush their teeth with this water, and the Government is going to charge them for it."

He illustrated his speech by holding up a small bottle of what appeared to be cloudy water. He said it was "glorified piss", and "poison", containing cryptosporidium. And he challenged the minister to drink it. He then walked down and placed the bottle in front of the minister.

Fergus O'Dowd didn't seem the least put out. He looked at the water and moved it to another spot on the bench in front of him.

At that stage, the quality of the product being legislated for might have become an issue. Mr Flanagan's claims might have been tested. But nothing said in the rubber-stamp Dail matters.

The Ceann Comhairle, Sean Barrett, was not in the chamber when this happened. When he came back, he said: "Before we proceed to Leaders' Questions, I have been informed of an act of vandalism, which I regard it to be, in this chamber, which was totally out of character. Never before in the history of this chamber have I seen such behaviour by a member in walking down and handing a glass of dirty water to a minister. That is just outrageous and unacceptable behaviour and I have asked for an immediate meeting of the Committee on Procedure and Privileges to deal with the matter."

There is no more accurate term for this than bullshit. Sanctimonious, inaccurate, insulting bullshit. It mischaracterised what happened. It treated the facts of the matter as irrelevant and elevated Mr Barrett's emotions above the facts. It treated without respect the reputation of an elected member and denied his right to bring to the minister's attention, in a way of his choosing, the quality of the water being forced on Mr Flanagan's constituents.

True to his word, the Ceann Comhairle immediately arranged a meeting of the Committee on Procedures and Privileges, which immediately sent Ming Flanagan a letter. (Have these people really nothing better to do?)

"The Committee on Procedures and Privileges condemns without reservation the behaviour of Deputy Luke 'Ming' Flanagan in Dail Eireann on 19 December 2013. It regards his actions as totally unacceptable and damaging to the reputation and standing of the House... any further behaviour of this kind will be severely dealt with."

Two things about this very weak letter. One, it didn't specify the conduct to which it referred. Two, it didn't ground its finding in any rule, regulation or standing order.

Vandalism involves illegally destroying or damaging property. It is criminal damage. A person found guilty of criminal damage, on summary conviction, can go to jail for a year. On indictment, the term can be up to 10 years.

There was no vandalism committed in the Dail that day. Mr Barrett, on being told what happened, decided -- from his position of privilege -- to call it vandalism. He did not claim to have consulted either the written or video record of the proceedings. There was no outrage expressed by those who witnessed what happened. Mr O'Dowd responded proportionately.

Had Mr Flanagan handed Mr O'Dowd an affidavit from a constituent, bearing witness to the condition of the water, no one could object. Flanagan did something more informative -- he provided a sample of the water.

Had he thrown the water at another member, had he smashed the bottle, it would be vandalism. Mr Barrett was not using the term in a metaphoric sense (social vandalism, moral vandalism, parliamentary vandalism), he used it in its normal, criminal sense.

Had anyone else in the Dail slandered a deputy in that fashion, it would be Mr Barrett's job to discipline them.

"Never before in the history of this chamber have I seen such behaviour..."

This is breathtakingly nonsensical. Mr Barrett didn't see what happened. He hasn't seen everything that happened in the history of the Dail. Nothing happened that remotely justified this hysterical level of outrage.

Is this really the worst the Dail has seen? Worthy of accusations of criminal behaviour? In a parliament which on late sittings has seen glassy-eyed TDs staggering out of the bar, into the chamber to vote as instructed, on a Bill some of them have never read?

Before writing its very weak letter, did the members of the Committee on Procedures and Privileges consult both the written record and the video of the matter? If not,

on what were they basing their condemnation? Were they told what happened, by the Ceann Comhairle, who wasn't there when it happened? Did they call in witnesses? Did they consider asking Mr Flanagan for his side of the matter?

In recent years, the Dail has become redundant. Its job is to provide legislation for the executive -- the Government -- to carry through. Instead, the Government monopolises legislation, the party TDs, under threat of having their careers destroyed by the party bosses, vote as instructed.