The ashes of our fathers Margaret Hickey

The ashes of our fathers by Margaret Hickey

Iden�ty poli�cs is as much about the collapse of old iden��es as the forging of new ones. The current discussion about how the centenary anniversary of Ireland’s par��on should be marked shows how radically poli�cal iden��es can be reconstructed over �me. When Micheál Mar�n stood up in Dáil Éireann about a year ago and declared Ireland had moved on from “backward ideas about sovereignty” in favour of “the ideals of the European Union”, it must have struck a lot of people that this was something quite incongruous from the leader, of what was proudly the republican party, the an�-par��on party, the party most iden�fied with the pursuit of a unified and sovereign Irish na�on. The same party was also the one most enthusias�cally promo�ng the country’s na�ve

culture and language. It drew its vision from the 1916 signatories and in par�cular Patrick Pearse who aspired to an Ireland, that was “not merely free but Gaelic as well”. A week is a long �me in poli�cs so it should not be surprising that, over a number of decades, a poli�cal party like Fianna Fáil could recast its iden�ty to the point of discarding what it once held to be non-nego�able core values.

Like all such evolu�ons it did not happen overnight. The EU as an en�ty in itself, rather than a collec�on of en��es, was implicit in its adop�on of the symbols and structures associated with sovereign states. Its grand assembly was designated a parliament, presided over by its president. It had its own anthem and its own flag and logo. It didn’t set out to dissolve its members’

iden��es but to subsume them, in all their par�cularity, into a comprehensive poli�cal organism. Its declared aim was to break down historic animosi�es between rival na�ons, not destroy or dilute their iden��es. But of course the policy of open borders and centralised policy forma�on needed to secure its aim has ushered in a new sense of what it is to be of Irish or any other na�onality. Incrementally, we have all become a li�le more like each other in how we think, how we learn, how we work, how we eat and, to varying degrees, in how we appropriate a suprana�onal, European iden�ty.

As Micheál Mar�n pointed out in his Dáil address, the “values of the European Union” have ended wars between European states. They have contributed too to the gradual and growing detente between the UK and Ireland. In fact a�er the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, Fianna Fáil under Ber�e Ahern began to assume a less vividly green shade of na�onalism. In 2004, they quietly changed the party’s name from “Fianna Fáil, the Republican Party”, to simply “Fianna Fáil”. Micheál Mar�n has led them the rest of the way by entering coali�on with the old enemy, the party who approved par��on and se�led for being a free state instead of holding out for an All Ireland republic. But all that was a long �me ago and merging with the old enemy was the next logical step in a converging poli�cal journey as both par�es outgrew their shared social conserva�sm and their founding raison d'être was overtaken by events.

The problem with changing iden�ty is that not everyone is happy to move on. From the point of view of Micheál Mar�n and Leo Varadkar, dissenters will be swept into the current of progress sooner or later or else find themselves, irrelevant and ridiculous, up an ideological creek without a poli�cal paddle to free themselves.

As a former teacher of history, the new Taoiseach should know it’s not always so simple. Iden�ty ma�ers at some level to everyone. It is about being fully, freely and authen�cally who you feel yourself to be. People may find their sense of self within a belief system or an ethnicity or a culture or a way of life. Most o�en it is within an intersec�on of several of those denomina�ons that we define ourselves. Some people will resist and risk all they have, even life itself to defend that sense of who they are and what they stand for. Micheál Mar�n probably sees his non-par�san stance towards marking the centenary of Irish par��on as statesmanlike. However, in abandoning the deeply rooted iden�ty of his party, he has opened the field to others. Sinn Féin have held more firmly to their republican roots. They have taken over from Fianna Fáil as the colour party in Irish poli�cs. They have managed to gra� their social progressivism onto tradi�onal na�onalism. Perhaps, strapped on rather than gra�ed might be more accurate. However, ill-sorted as their hybrid pla�orm is by European standards, they have managed to sell it at the polls, North and South. Sinn Féin see “nothing to celebrate” about the upcoming centenary anniversary. At the other end of the poli�cal spectrum, the DUP have called for a public holiday to mark the occasion. Whether this divergence of views will spill over into the same divisive debate that stymied the government’s plans to mark the contribu�on of the RIC to Irish life has yet to be seen.

Brexit has shown the EU that there is a point beyond which iden��es can be merged without causing revolt. There are other member states who have gained hugely from EU membership like Poland who are not prepared to trade sovereignty for be�er security and living standards. Like Ireland, Poland paid a high price for its sovereignty. Sweden, in contrast, defines itself more by its progressiveness and inclusiveness, than its na�onal and historic character. Uniquely in Europe, it has enjoyed centuries of peace. But even in Sweden there is a resurgence of na�onalism. From Hungary to Spain, from Sweden to Italy, European countries or rather a significant demographic within them is asking if they can freely be who they are, a people shaped by their shared past, within the new European order. Refusal to acknowledge the desire of people to belong within a culture, a na�on or a tribe, within a na�onal and

historic narra�ve has fuelled populist, far right poli�cs across Europe.

It is easy to pay lip service to diversity but it is very challenging to live it out. While the European project has certainly kept peace between na�ons, it has created another ri� along a much wider fron�er of ideology. Micheál Mar�n speaks of “the values of the European Union” as if they were what any reasonable person might be expected to sign up to. In actual fact, despite the rhetoric of inclusion, there is a clear push to impose an overarching world view to which every individual and group is expected to conform. Do “the values of the European Union” acknowledge the right of a doctor or a nurse to decline to par�cipate in an abor�on or euthanasia procedure for instance? Do they acknowledge the right of parents to withdraw their children from sex educa�on that does not adhere to a faith based understanding of sexuality? Do they acknowledge the rights of churches to operate chari�es and services that conform to their understanding of the rights and responsibili�es of the individual? On the other hand, do the same “European values” allow arbitrary exemp�ons on the grounds of religion or ethnicity to certain groups despite causing deep offence to the indigent culture? Why is it important to raise up some ghosts from history and not others? How will Europe respond to claims for parity of language rights which looks like it may be the next cause du jour for rights campaigners? It is easy to see how difficult and complex it is to take diversity from aspira�on to implementa�on. It is easy to see how any community, large or small, can live harmoniously without a fundamental shared ethic.

Real diversity would allow a voice to the wide range of opinion about how to mark the upcoming centenary of par��on. Can the anniversary be a �me to celebrate, a �me to mourn and a �me to reflect dispassionately all at the same �me ? Will the Irish government who in the words of Micheál Mar�n “have moved on” from the turbulence of the past, be empathe�c to those who have not or feel unable to do so? It is as good an example as any of how difficult it is to give rival iden��es expression in a mul�-ethnic society without conflict. Socie�es that want to validate equally all their component cultures will always struggle to find the commonality that makes “them”

part of “us”. acts of courage. Patrimony is about beliefs and values as much as the And how can man die be�er than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his gods. “ It is hugely challenging. Expressing �es of blood and race - something iden�ty by singing patrio�c songs people have always been prepared at the end of the BBC's Proms to fight for. Those impulses, it concert series no longer passes for must be said, have exacted a a harmless celebra�on of terrible price from the peoples of na�onhood. What used to be seen Europe across the centuries. as an exuberant expression of Nevertheless, the things a person togetherness is now considered might risk life for are also the triumphalist, threatening and things that give life its purpose, its excluding. It could be the la�er in heart and soul. Macauley’s another context but so could throbbing lines may sound like almost any anthem depending on outmoded jingoism to modern ears how it is appropriated. If but they nevertheless pulse with celebratory, sing-a-long patrio�sm the �meless human need for is to be combed for poli�cal meaning and iden�ty even when correctness, then we are fast defending them becomes a weary entering a new era of narrow, and dangerous struggle: “And how cultural puritanism, witch hun�ng can man die be�er than facing and censoring, the very nega�on fearful odds, for the ashes of his of diversity. fathers and the temples of his In one of his poems, from his anthology, The Lays of Ancient Rome, Thomas Macauley, describes how the sense of belonging to a people and place inspires great gods.”

Margaret Hickey

Margaret Hickey has wri�en ar�cles on social, cultural and faith issues for The Irish Examiner, Human Life Review (US), The Irish Times, The Furrow and The Irish Catholic. She is a mother of three and lives with her husband in Blarney.