The Dublin Riots from abroad

There is a great tradition in Ireland of turning away from unpleasantness. When the Catholic Church held such power over our state and people, they abused, neglected and shamed our most vulnerable, sometimes openly, without consequence, for decades. It took years for us to call them out on it.
There’s a kind of an allowance for people to misbehave if they’re good craic or they mean no harm. There’s an irritation amongst the group if at the pub or around the table one person calls another out on something that might be considered racist, homophobic, sexist,
”Ah leave him at it,” - Aunty might say “Sure he means no harm. What are you having? Will I get you another?”
For years I have heard questions like,
”But where are you really from?” and “How do you put up with this weather with that skin?”
And thought them twee, almost charming. There’s no meanness behind them I’d think. Irish people are just obsessed with where you’re from, they want to connect with people, hear their stories.
It might be time to look more where we ourselves came from, remember what we’ve been through. Or is that also too unpleasant? Is it easier to interrogate someone else, choosing instead to tell a funny story or a tale of woe from 100 years ago when the questions are put back on to us?

We don’t know ourselves by Fintan O’Toole

I try to read a few history books per year. This month I have been making my way through Fintan O’Toole’s We Don’t Know Ourselves, a personal history of modern Ireland. I was born in 1984 and sat my Leaving Cert School History exam in Dublin 2003. The majority of Irish History we covered was pre 1940s with perhaps a few highlights on the years that followed.
It’s time to fill in the blanks.
If we know where we have come from, if we see why certain groups have emerged, why anger has risen, we can better understand each other in our differences of opinions. We can show greater empathy to each other, listen to each other, communicate. By laughing off outspoken relatives, by choosing not to go there, we allow unheard voices to build up, to attract momentum, to rile each other up until breaking point.

It was hard to watch Dublin city burning last week on my phone from up north in Stockholm where I have been immersed in a winter wonderland. The huge movement of people into Europe has triggered a strong wave of support for extreme right thinking here in Sweden also. It has been emerging since we moved here nearly three years ago.
I am married to a Swede, my children are half Swedish and yet, at times, I have found myself wondering if those far right types would really rather I went home also.
The idea of it was so completely foreign to me. It was another aspect of living away from home. Not in my wildest imaginings would I have considered our magical isle, which I romanticise and wrap up in soft green moss covered in glitter in my mind, a similar group emerging. Irish people don’t commit hate crimes, Irish people just want to have a chat with you and figure out your story over a pint ending in a sing song. Bear in mind I grew up in a very privileged and sheltered Ireland.

From Pardon and Protest, Memoirs from the Margins
By Una O’Higgins O’Malley

It has been surreal, writing a play about my Grandmother, with a group of people, founding the Glencree Peace and Reconciliation Centre in 1974 amidst the Troubles and seeing in real time how important this centre and the work the people do there still is.

My Grandmother, N’Una, collected priests. I suppose her own husband, Eoin, was a man of few words so she sought out theologians, philosophers and poets to explore difficult topics with. N’Una sounded out the most intelligent, well read, forward thinking priests and wrote to them, met them for coffee, attended lectures with them, invited them to speak in Glencree, argued with them and the best of them were added to her collection. In my research of her life, I have come across endless amounts of letters to and from priests. In one letter N’Una writes to Father Gabriel Daly looking for advice on a personal conflict, Father Daly replies:

“…no matter how unfair a thing seems you simply must understand, forgive and let go if you are not yourself to become part of that problem.”

It is not easy to understand, forgive and let go but I have found that reading really does help. Read about where you are from, read about where others are from, educate yourself on things you don’t understand before commenting, agreeing or building momentum on embers that could burst into flames.

It is time to start addressing Uncle Michael who may have had one too many and doesn’t really mean to be a racist bigot because even if he doesn’t, there are little, impressionable ears around corners who may not be ready to understand the complexities of Uncle Michael having had one too many.

Sorry to any Uncle Michael’s reading this, I have no doubt that you are entirely sound.

We are living through a repeat of history. We know how generations before us felt to have our country taken away, to be forced to emigrate, to turn on each other in rage, it’s all there in our books, poems and songs. Surely one of Ireland’s contributions to the world should be in offering a service resolving conflicts or is that now lost on us?