Mary KennyThe story of 1914 is complex
It is a tribute to Ireland’s maturity, and generous sense of inclusiveness that an Irish stamp commemorating 1914 should feature both John Redmond and Edward Carson.
John Redmond was the great champion of the Home Rule Bill of 1914, and stewarded it through the House of Commons with adroit judgement and skilled political manoeuvring – and in the process, nullifying the political power of the House of Lords.
Edward Carson was a man of a different ilk, being the leader of the Ulster Unionists who certainly did not favour Home Rule, since he ardently desired a united Ireland within the United Kingdom. And yet, Carson, the Dubliner, played his complex part in the events of the time – sometimes not for the best, and yet, with a passionate commitment.
Despite his strong Unionism, he always affirmed that he was an Irishman – didn’t he play Gaelic games as a student at Trinity College Dublin?
Neither was Carson ever an anti-Catholic. He held to his own Bible-based Protestantism, but he was not a sectarian.
As a brilliant barrister, he took up the controversial cause of the Catholic naval cadet, George Archer-Shee, who was wrongly accused of stealing a postal order, and pursued the case with passion: later Terence Rattigan made the event into a famous play, The Winslow Boy.
Archer-Shee was probably picked on because he was a Catholic, which Carson considered mightily unjust.
Redmond and Carson weren’t exactly friends in life – yet when Redmond died in 1917, Carson said of his erstwhile parliamentary colleague: “I cannot recall to mind one single bitter personal word that ever passed between John Redmond and myself.”
Complex
So, although the story of 1914 is complex, and sometimes adversarial, it is fitting that Redmond and Carson should appear together on an Irish stamp.
I believe in celebrating 1916 as a key moment in the birth of the Irish State, but I also believe in celebrating the passage of Home Rule in the summer of 1914 – its implementation deferred because of the Great War (which was expected to be “over by Christmas”.)
These are both very significant events in the development of the Irish state: we should not see them in opposition, but as part of a continuum – even if, at the time, there would have been differences of emphasis and method.
It is also gratifying to learn that the speaker of the House of Commons in London, Rt Hon. John Bercow, will shortly hold a parliamentary celebration at Westminster of the 1914 Home Rule Bill.
That is another step towards a genuinely harmonious inclusiveness.
Monarchies make the news
It’s always good news, to me, to hear the announcement of a pregnancy. And it was especially pleasing to learn that Princess Charlene of Monaco, and her husband Albert, are expecting a baby later in the year.
I am rather prone to following the French magazines which report on all the latest doings of European royalty, and while the rest of the Almanach de Gotha seemed to be producing babies at a rate of knots, the House of Grimaldi had been without a direct heir. Albert and Charlene were photographed attending various Christenings for the Swedish, Belgian, Dutch and Luxembourgeois offspring, while childless themselves.
As Prince Albert, 56, has a child from a previous relationship, the anxious focus was on Charlene, 36. Anxiety replaced by joy that there’s a baby Grimaldi coming into the world – a grandchild for the late Princess Grace.
Meanwhile, in Madrid, it’s the end of the reign of King Juan Carlos. A good king, but flawed in recent times. If he had stuck with his sensible wife, Sofia, instead of gallivanting off elephant-hunting with his younger German girlfriend, he mightn’t have got into such a pickle. We must not judge, but we may describe.
Will the Spanish monarchy survive? For the moment, yes. But surprisingly, Protestant societies generally seem to be more attuned to monarchy than Catholic ones.
Farewell ‘Paxo’
Jeremy Paxman, who is considered the most fearsome political inquisitor on British television, is retiring from his late-night gig, Newsnight after 25 years at the helm.
Paxman has interviewed virtually everyone of note who has passed through London, and has been nicknamed ëPaxoí, (after the chicken stuffing product), since he notoriously roasts and skewers mendacious politicians and evasive big-wigs.
Asked recently who were the most interesting people he has interviewed over the years, he replied: ìReligious people. Because they have thought about things.î
A meaningful answer, and a tribute from a neutral, or sometimes hostile, source. Only last year, Paxo was reprimanded by the BBC Trust for talking about ìreligious hogwashî and ìstupid people who believe in the Old Testamentî (in a conversation with Richard Dawkins). But at 64, even fearsome TV inquisitors often become more reflective.