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"Ireland and Iraq -- 'A fanatic heart' " - column by Daniel O'Rourke
Daniel O'Rourke's columns | Submitted by admin on March 24, 2006 - 5:01pm.
CPJ member, Daniel O'Rourke, wrote the following column,"Ireland and Iraq -- 'A fanatic heart,'" for the Dunkirk Observer, which was published on March 23, 2006. Saint Patrick’s Day has come and gone, but it’s still with me. I don’t mean those phony brogues, green beer and all that ersatz Irishness. I mean “the Troubles,” as the Irish poetically name them. I mean the diminishing conflict between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland. Saint Patrick’s Day reminded me of another artificially divided land, of another suppression of one religious group by another. It reminded me of the civil war now already begun between Iraq’s Sunnis and the Shiites. Different groups divided by class and clout, prestige and power but whose overarching identification is religion. In Iraq two sects of Islam, in Ireland two divisions of Christians fearing, hating and killing each other. Listen to W. B. Yeats’ verse from his poem “Remorse for Intemperate Speech.” It cries out from the heart of a tortured people. Saint Patrick’s Day has come and gone, but it’s still with me. I don’t mean those phony brogues, green beer and all that ersatz Irishness. I mean “the Troubles,” as the Irish poetically name them. I mean the diminishing conflict between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland.Saint Patrick’s Day reminded me of another artificially divided land, of another suppression of one religious group by another. It reminded me of the civil war now already begun between Iraq’s Sunnis and the Shiites. Different groups divided by class and clout, prestige and power but whose overarching identification is religion. In Iraq two sects of Islam, in Ireland two divisions of Christians fearing, hating and killing each other.Listen to W. B. Yeats’ verse from his poem “Remorse for Intemperate Speech.” It cries out from the heart of a tortured people. Out of Ireland we come. Great hatred, little room, Maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother’s womb A fanatic heart. When Yeats wrote that, he “had witnessed the birthing of a new Irish nation through insurgency and civil war. He had served as a Free State senator, and after winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, was the country’s public man of letters.” As Thomas Lynch, the poet and author of “Booking Passage: We Irish and Americans,” has also observed, Yeats’ poem admits that intelligence and good intentions are often overcome by hatred and enthusiasm for a cause. “It is what links enemies, what makes terrorists “martyrs” and “patriots” among their own – the fanatic heart beating in the breast of every true believer.” I inherited some of that hate. I heard those songs of rebellion from my grandparents as a boy. Experience, education, travel –- life itself have leached that hate from my heart. But even three generations removed from Ireland, I heard suspicion, distrust and hate for the English Protestant landlords, who forced my famished ancestors onto “coffin ships” and into steerage for passage to a distant land. Is such religious hatred destiny? Can experience and education cure fanatic hearts? They did mine; can they do so in Iraq? Only history will tell, but here’s a story that gives me hope. Some years ago fundraisers from the Irish Republican Army stopped to see an American executive. He was an Irish Catholic CEO of an international company. They went to his office in his up-scale Manhattan headquarters. They spoke of the prejudice, injustices, killings and suppression of Catholics in Northern Ireland and requested money for arms. He refused them. “All right they said, but what then do you intend to do to help?” The CEO did not answer, but long after the IRA terrorists left their question haunted him. Weeks later he flew to Belfast and began making plans to build a plant in Northern Ireland. Eventually, with instructions that his people hire both Catholics and Protestants as workers and managers, he built it. The plant prospered and its non-discriminatory personnel policies were widely praised. A few years later this same CEO was in London on business to meet with an English counterpart. Their work had brought them together and they had become friends. Their different religions and ethnic backgrounds were hardly noticed. Over lunch in an exclusive club they were discussing the Belfast plant and its hiring practices. “What made you build it?” asked the Englishman. The American told him of the IRA soliciting money for arms. “But why did you do it?” his English friend persisted. “My grandparents were tenant farmers in Connemara. Their landlord forced them to leave Ireland during the famine.” Curious now the Englishman asked, “What part of Connemara?” When the American named the remote, mountainous village, the Englishman paled. “What’s the matter?” asked his friend. Shaking his head, the Englishman said quietly, “My grandfather owned that mountain.” Generations from now will the descendents of today’s Shiites and Sunnis have similar conversations? Will they meet as friends? Will they sit at table to share a meal to discuss business? Or will that hatred, which today rips Iraq asunder, still maim them? Will the grandchildren of today’s Sunnis and Shiites still carry fanatic hearts? It can happen, if visionary statesmen like Senator George Mitchell who nurtured the historic Good Friday Irish agreement bring similar diplomatic skills to the Sunni-Shiite conflict. (I must say, however, that I find the Bush administration’s Iraq policy is not long-term and visionary but short-term and delusional.) In Ireland economic prosperity, cultural cooperation and interdependence have drawn Catholics and Protestants closer. Full peace has not yet come to Ulster, but most fanatic hearts are have been silenced. Iraq desperately needs such modernization. The reformation of the Catholic Church at the Second Vatican Council helped greatly in Ireland. That council broke down many Catholic and Protestant prejudices. Islam too needs a religious reformation. Eventually modernization and reformation will come to Iraq but it will not happen quickly. As in Ireland, it could take generations perhaps centuries. And how long will our troops be there? God only knows President Bush doesn’t. We should set a timetable and start bringing them home. As the Quakers have told us “if our troops leave, then an independent Iraqi government, free of external control, could open the door to discussion and reconciliation between groups.” We should again remind ourselves of Ireland and the transitional Irish Free State which was also born out of insurgency and civil war. It struggled from 1922 to 1937. Americans must take the long view of history and not, as politicians instinctively do, think only of the next congressional election. One more comparison: in Ireland women jump-started the struggle for peaceful cooperation. In 1977 Mairead Corrigan and Betty Williams received the Nobel Peace Prize for their efforts. Iraq too needs to hear the voices of its women who have lost too many children, husbands and brothers. If the Iraqi constitution gives a real voice to women -- and not only a nominal presence, the chances for peace between Sunni and Shiite will increase. That’s what Ireland can teach America about Iraq. Daniel O’Rourke is a former Observer Clergy Columnist. He’s a married Catholic priest, retired from the administration at State University College, Fredonia. A mediator for the Center for Resolution and Justice, he lives in Cassadaga. His column appears the second and fourth Thursdays of each month. Comments may be sent to orourke@netsync.net |
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