MINISTER for Foreign Affairs, Micheál Martin, has said that he will introduce a certificate of Irishness for the 70million non-citizens with Irish heritage dotted across the globe.
But how exactly will Irishness be evaluated?
Perhaps there’ll be an Inspector of Irishness.
A local radio station in Ireland once got straight to the nub of this matter.
And it might be worth Minister Martin having a sit down and going through their list of what constitutes Ould Soddedness.
The list held a few surprises: 1. A penchant for Tayto crisps.
2. A liking for Guinness.
3. A hound for the Irish stew.
4. A full Irish fry-up, with rashers, fried bread and white pudding.
5. An admiration for the GAA.
6. A soft spot for Aer Lingus.
7. An addiction for Irish dancing.
8. A special place for the Irish mammy.
9. A nostalgic longing for red lemonade.
10. A love for the green fields of Ireland.
The potato crisp one was a surprise, not withstanding the fact that Tayto invented the flavoured crisp — the first cheese ’n’ onions appeared some 50 years or so ago. Guinness, of course, elects itself.
In Ireland when you’re born your family get hog-whimperingly drunk to celebrate your arrival;when you get married another huge piss-up takes place, and when you depart you’ll leave to the sound of someone shouting: “Has anybody seen the spare bottle opener?”
The GAA should probably be further up the list. Ireland is reputed to have many ‘unique’ characteristics, but in truth our scenery can be bettered, our music equalled, and our friendliness is a little bit on the wane.
But the GAA is truly remarkable, and in rural areas of the country the society still beats to its pulse.
The Catholic Church may have lost sway in Ireland, but it’s had the last laugh: its sporting wing has never been stronger.
For expatriots, Aer Lingus was at one time a small bit of home. As soon as you boarded a flight in London or New York, you were halfway home.
Dimmed somewhat now, but it’s still a thrill if you’re somewhere in far-flungery to see the green shamrock of our own planes. Somehow it’s not the same with Ryanair. Sorry Michael.
The Irish mammy, of course, has to be there. They say that an Irish meal isn’t a true Irish meal without your mother gently nagging you throughout, and how true that is.
Anyway, I think Micheál Martin should be turning his attention to these parameters before anyone gets issued with a certificate of Irishness.