Archive for Irish Life

Public interest demands that RTE answer questions on McCollum

Screenshot of an RTE tweet publicising the McCollum interview

Some stories stick out, and not for a good reason – there’s a whiff of something not right off them, and the much-trumpeted interview with Michaella McCollum is one of them.

(Not that I have been able to see it in full, of course. The RTE Player continues to discriminate against the Irish abroad, limiting access to content which, although brilliant, as with the recent I Am Traveller documentary, has questionable or negligible resale value abroad).

But the McCollum story itself is now a story, and there are questions that RTE needs to answer in relation to it.

I have worked for the various editorial departments of RTE (mostly radio) on many occasions, and without exception they are highly-qualified and extremely professional people.

But in this case the state broadcaster needs to be utterly transparent about how the interview was conducted. Nothing less than the journalistic credibility of the national broadcaster is at stake – stories that wouldn’t look out of place in the tabloids are all well and good, but tabloid tactics and chequebook journalism are not.

The “why Michaela?” question is irrelevant – news editors make such decisions all the time, and besides, her arrest, denial of guilt and trial were big news stories, and it is logical to cover her release and to try to unearth the truth.

The following questions need to be answered, promptly and thoroughly:

1. Who initiated the story/interview – was it Michaela, the journalist on the ground, the RTE news desk, a book publisher, PR agency or similar?

2. Did Michaella, her family, her foundation or any other party connected with her receive any sort of compensation (including, but not limited to, cash, flights or accommodation) in return for her co-operation?

3. Did McCollum and/or her representatives promise RTE or their representatives exclusivity? If so, what did they receive in return?

4. Were there any demands or requirements made by McCollum or her representatives as to where, when and under what circumstances the interview would take place?

5. Did McCollum and/or her representatives refuse to answer particular questions, or seek a list of questions prior to the interview? If so, did RTE acceded to those requests? Did the journalist on site decide the questions to be asked or was he instructed by the news desk?

6. Is there more than one take of any of McCollum’s answers to the questions posed?

I am aware that there are confidentiality issues at play here, and therefore I have not asked for specific numbers regarding compensation or costs, so RTE should be well able to reply.

And if they have signed any confidentiality agreement that precludes them from explaining the journalistic method used, then that raises a whole new set of worrying questions.


No “Caravan of Love” for Connors in Donnybrook

Actor, Republican and filmmaker John Connors on the Late Late Show

This morning I re-watched the journalistic car crash that was the John Connors interview on Friday’s Late Late Show.

As John – an actor, Republican and filmmaker, who also happens to be a Traveller – went toe to toe, the interview quickly stopped being about John’s heritage or Ryan’s privilege, and instead became about those who weren’t there at all.

And it is in how we treat those who are not present that we learn where we are as a society in relation to our prejudices; Ireland may have made progress in recent years, but the conservative Catholic ethos still remains.

There is still a hierarchy, and it is slavishly adhered to by many in the media.

Take Paul Williams, a man who apparently told John Connors on film that as an ethnic group, Travellers bear a collective responsibility for criminality in their ranks.

Now in case you need it clarified for you, ascribing collective guilt is one of the oldest and most racist statements one can possibly make.

For instance, by that logic all Irish people bear responsibility for the campaign of bombing that tore through the British mainland in the seventies, eighties and nineties.

Which, of course, is nonsense.

By Williams’ racist logic we also bear responsibility for things like apartheid and the Crusades, given that the majority of Irish people are white and nominally Christian.

But John wasn’t even allowed to bring up what Williams said on the public record and why?

Because “he’s not here to defend himself.”

The same was then said of the local authorities that moved quickly to block the movement of any Travellers onto their land following the Carrickmines fire, in which ten people died.

Then, breathtakingly, Ryan asked John why publicans weren’t in a hurry to serve Travellers alcohol.

So the integrity of neither Williams nor local authorities may be questioned, but Ryan had no problem inferring that Travellers – who, let it be said, also weren’t there to defend themselves – are violent drunks.

Even John’s own experience of racism was questioned, as was his anger towards the system and the society that has not only allowed it to fester, but has in many cases actively encouraged it.

Here’s some of the tweets that were made on the Late Late hashtags during the interview – ranging from openly racist to simple, yet staggeringly ignorant, this is what Ryan believes John has little or no reason to be angry about.

In insinuating that Travellers as an ethnic group are violent drunks or criminals and that they deserve that reputation, Ryan is kowtowing to the racist logic of the sensationalist Williams, but of course, this cannot be discussed.

Because imagine if Williams did what Iona and John Waters and Breda O’Brien did when they were called homophobes by Rory O’Neill on the Saturday Night Show?

What if he sued? How much would it cost? What would that do to Ryan’s career?

Notice nobody asks what would happen if a Traveller sued, as in our society they are granted no standing. Williams can say what he likes – even if it’s racist, or even if it tars Sinn Féin’s voters as terrorists, for instance – but he cannot be called racist for making racist statements on the public record.

This is the legacy of Pantigate, it is what columnist (note: not journalist) Breda O’Brien, journalist and former member of the Broadcasting Authority John Waters and the Iona Institute in general, whose fear of homosexuality is the very definition of homophobia, have left us.

(As both are based on fear, being homophobic or racist are not necessarily bad things in themselves – it is the repression of and the imposition of one’s own values on others, and the denial of the rights of others that is reprehensible.)

Irish voters have in recent times indicated that they are abandoning the vicious, venal, hateful and judgemental attitudes fostered by the church and implemented for generations by politicians as they divided and conquered and created hierarchies that suited themselves.

But as yet the system itself has not changed – The Lads are still in control, and despite the fact that they are a minority, the likes of Iona still call the shots.

Every time they call the lawyers in, journalists jump and eventually they toe the line. When “they” are not there to defend themselves, the lawyers will do it for them, and as a result the questions can’t even be put.

Maybe John and the family of those who died in Carrickmines should call the Iona lawyers and see what can be done about the imposition of collective guilt and responsibility on Travellers, or Muslims, or Africans, or anyone else.

My guess is very little.

Irish media doesn’t tell the truth to power.

Instead, cowed by the fear of legal proceedings, it restricts itself to telling the truth that power wants people to hear.


Why angry silence is the only way to commemorate 1916 Rising

1916 banner – presumably there was no room for Ian Paisley.

The banner at College Green has barely been unveiled, but it has already confirmed what I have long suspected.

That I do not want any part of of a commemoration of 1916 that denies, distorts and destroys what it is supposed to remember.

Only in Ireland could a banner commemorating a revolution feature a man who recruited for the enemy and called the event “wicked and insane”, as John Redmond did.

It comes as no surprise. For years the battle has been fought to see who would “own” the memory of 1916.

In then end, it seems, Bórd Fáilte won.

As a result, what we are getting is an approximation of history, a “1916 Rising for Dummies.”

The blood of the dead – men and women, soldiers and rebels, over 300 civilians and more than three dozen children –  washed from the streets.

The barbarity – war crimes on both sides – is forgotten, and the context crushed under the weight of collective denial of what the Rising was, and more importantly, what it wasn’t.

What should have been a conversation about the country we have created has been made into a marketing vehicle for tourism.

Anything else would have forced us to confront the truth of the intervening century.

For all the reverence in which the signatories of the Proclamation are held in Ireland, almost everything they stood for died along with them.

The notion of “cherishing all of the children of the nation equally” was quickly abandoned.

With the hospitals, the schools and the populace in general controlled by a vicious, venal and violent religious junta that is still remarkably healthy and wealthy, it couldn’t be any other way.

Partition – as promoted by what is now Fine Gael – put an end to the dream of a republic that would cover the entire Ireland.

And any chance of a functioning trade union movement to represent the working people died with James Connolly, strapped to a chair in the Stonebreaker’s Yard in Kilmainham Jail.

What we got was no mystical vision of independence, as laid out by Pearse.

Instead, we got exactly what most other countries that were eventually freed from imperialism experienced – a divided society ruled by an appointed elite, first as a transitional system of governance that then became the norm.

The greed and power of the church coupled with Ireland’s isolated position on the edge of Europe kept it out of the reach of international socialism and the kind of liberal social democracy that saw Scandinavia and Germany thrive, especially in the post-war period.

Instead, like many Catholic nations on the periphery of Europe, the Irish poor were condemned to lives of poverty, promised their reward in heaven while their cassocked moral guardians enjoyed the fruits of everyone else’s labours here on earth.

Having presided over misery and poverty, tugging its forelock and deferring to the church for much of the state’s existence, there is little on the credit side in the great ledger of social justice for any Irish government.

Pointing to the recent marriage equality referendum only highlights how little has been done to “cherish all the children of the nation equally.”

Women are still second-class citizens, earning less and dictated to by the state, or ignored when they become too noisy.

The Lads still rule, and their friends at the golf club still get the no-bid contracts and the cheap properties and the planning permissions they need to feather their nests.

Children with special needs and those who occupy hospital trolleys night after night don’t play golf.

The 1916 Rising delivered change, but not the change it wanted or expected.

Yeats was right – a terrible beauty was indeed born; and the poorer you were, the more terrible and the less beautiful it was.

And so to those struggling to “own” the narrative. the idiotic banner at College Green – with three of the four featured having died long before the Rising ever took place – is a symptom of how history in Ireland is distorted and watered down for political ends.

The irish Times reported that the idea for the banner came from the Department of An Taoiseach – perhaps unsurprising, given the spectacular ignorance of the clown that has inhabited that office for the last few years.

Enda Kenny has been doing his best to soft-soap voters into believing that his Fine Gael party are sympathetic to the Republic and the ideals declared by Padraig Pearse a hundred years ago.

Yet it was his party that banned the 60th anniversary celebrations – and using the Offences Against the State Act as the legislative framework to do so is surely the definition of GUBU.

Perhaps even more so than the endemically corrupt Fianna Fáil, Enda’s party is the party of The Lads. Those who have most get more, those who have least get nothing at all.

Labour will begin its struggle to make itself relevant again, oblivious to the fact that Connolly died for his principles, while they immediately abandoned theirs to give a few ageing men one last shot at a ministerial post, where they gleefully inflicted misery on the people who had voted for them, begging for protection.

Like its protagonists, the Rising was complicated, messy and not easily interpreted, but the history ever since is somewhat easier to read.

A hundred years on, Ireland has, on the whole, failed to live up to its promise.

Too often it has failed the poor and the weakest in society, often consciously and deliberately as politicians descended from those who filled the power vacuum by creating a system to benefit themselves and their cronies.

Forget our music and our food and our culture.

Forget the high esteem in which our people – not our politicians or bankers, not The Lads – are held around the world.

Forget our athletes and our artists and our innovators.

All this exists in spite of, not because of, the country we have created out of the ashes of the Rising.

We can celebrate all these things another day.

If you want to commemorate the Rising properly, do so by not accepting the Bórd Fáilte narrative.

The Rising belongs not to them, or the politicians, or The Lads and their vested interests.

It belongs to those who bear the heaviest burden form a political system that demands their servitude but denies their needs, just as it did in 1916.

So skip the official “celebrations” and stick instead to history and the original date of April 24.

Go to the GPO, or to any other post office that has yet to be closed by the march of “progress”.

Stand there in angry silence for a minute and remember what Pearse and the others promised, and how pathetically little their political descendants have delivered.

Then go off and, in the words of Gandhi, “be the change you wish to see in the world.”

That means tearing down the system of clientelism and privilege, of recognising the dignity of each and every person, and of demanding the highest standards from everyone in public office.

It means accepting that we have to pay our share, and that taking “uncomfortable decisions” means that we too will be affected.

It means doing not what is best for ourselves, but what is just and noble and right, even if we personally lose out.

That would be a truly revolutionary act in modern Ireland.



Biggest failures in #GE16? Labour, FF, FG and journalism

What election were you watching?

The one I saw was the utter destruction of the status quo.

Incredibly, what a lot of my colleagues apparently saw was a resurgence of it, in the form of Fianna Fáil.

Who, incidentally, had their second-worst election on record.

I saw the outright rejection of the traditional right-wing (note – not centre-right) notion of “stability”of so-called Christian democrats as embodied by the singularly inept and staggeringly incompetent Enda Kenny.

I saw the annihilation of the Irish Labour Party, 100 years after its founder was tied to a chair and shot for his revolutionary tendencies, solely because it abandoned those people who begged it with their votes to protect them.

I saw an election where a motley crew of traitors and treacherous sleeveens record their second-worst election since 1927.

I saw the return of Lowry and two Healy-Raes in an indication that the parish pump of Irish politics is still in full flow in certain parts of the country.

I saw an election that saw Sinn Féin finally returned to the political mainstream after the horrors of the “Long War.”

I saw record numbers of small parties and independents returned as the establishment which has failed Ireland since the foundation of the state was sent packing.

And I saw a fourth estate in the form of the Irish media that couldn’t see the wood for the trees.

Throughout the count, journalists and broadcasters have struggled to understand virtually all the phenomena described above, instead choosing the easy angle of the Fianna Fáil “resurgence” – despite the fact that it has seldom in its history been as weak as it is now.

The paralysis is evidenced by the “experts” called to give their opinions – almost to a man (and occasional woman), they are part of the establishment they built, all while the media stroked their egos.

We had the laughable sight of snake-oil salesman Pat Rabbitte calling anyone who annoyed him “ultra-left” and making the staggering observation that Labour – who pissed in the faces of the poor that voted for them and assured them it was raining – is the “only Social Democratic party” in Ireland.

We’ve had Jody Corcoran, whose Sunday Independent newspaper were the big losers in the election as their private Renua party ran aground on its maiden voyage, now lionizing Micheál Martin – a man they have consistently attacked for five years, but who now holds the balance of power.

And we have the return of the odious Conor Lenihan, possibly the greatest spiv of them all – a man who, together with his inept brother and the rest of their cronies, ruined Ireland.

Not only did he contribute to destroying the country – when he was done, he took his state pensions and jumped ship to tout for foreign direct investment.

For Russia.

The problem of Irish political analysis by journalists was laid bare by the pleasantries exchanged – “congratulations on your election/commiserations on losing your seat.”

Whatever you think of them, your job as a political journalist is not to engage in niceties with people in power, or those who would aspire to have it – it is to ask intelligent pertinent questions on behalf of readers and listeners and viewers.

Time and again last night, bitter Fine Gael politicians contended that it was up to the opposition to take the reins of government.

This conveniently ignored the fact that, despite their abject failure, they would still have a considerable influence on how that government might look, especially if they swallowed their pride and joined Fianna Fáil.

Elsewhere, Labour’s increasing variety of failures all used the same three words as the headed to the gallows – “the national interest”.

Seldom were either of these two self-serving, petulant narratives questioned by the journalists interviewing them.

As I’ve stated elsewhere many times, bias is not always conscious; it is sometimes a function of class and privilege and position.

It is my sincere belief that too many journalists are bound to their desks recycling press releases,tweets and Youtube sound-bytes, and not out in the field actually talking to people and building their own understanding.

In truth, far too many of those in positions of power in Irish media and who are in turn tasked with holding those in power to account are too close to be able to do so properly.

A case in point – when Brian Cowen imitated Ryder Cup golfer Philip Walton and made fun of his speech impediment late one night in a bar, there were plenty of journalists present.

Not only did they not report it – they laughed along.

If, then, reporters are too close to those they should be holding to account, it is easy to understand why they absorb the narratives fed to them like crumbs from the top table.

It is easy to see how the establishment line becomes the truth as quickly as it does.

If Labour are the greatest failures, and Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil are not far behind, we must be honest and say that journalism has also failed the democratic process in Ireland.

It is not an easy place to work, but the inability to either predict or explain the outcome illustrates the need for voices who go against the grain, who do not cosy up to the powerful, and who put no price on their ability to say what they see.

In short, what we need is more independent journalists, and less Independent journalists.

And until we get that, we will only be getting the part of the story the insiders and career politicians want us to hear.

We all felt you in our pockets, Fergus

A man believed to be former ACC banker Fergus Crawford who accosted Mary Lou McDonald yesterday. Doesn’t like paying tax.

NOTE: Rabo Bank, the parent of Fergus Crawford’s ACC, was never bailed out by either the Irish or Dutch state. As a collective it was never

nationalised, and instead sank €900 million into ACC.

Ironically, if it had been it would have been Dutch farmers who make up its membership that would have lost out.

So while Fergus and ACC were never the recipients of a state bailout, they certainly contributed to the 2008 meltdown in Ireland.


An impassioned “concerned citizen” and self-confessed apolitical voter confronted Sinn Féin’s Mary-Lou McDonald on Grafton Street yesterday.

He accused her and her party of attempting to “tax people out of existence.”

Why? Because if Sinn Féin get into government, he will “feel it in (my) pocket”.

Now not wanting to pay tax is understandable – indeed, tax avoidance is a favourite pastime of many Irish people.

And that this should happen before the TV cameras on Dublin’s most upmarket shopping street is almost too good to be true.

I have previously advised against ever suspecting a conspiracy where common stupidity would seem a more likely reason, but yesterday’s clash was either a divine coincidence, or a clumsy set up.

You see, if the hive mind of the internet is to be believed, we’ve all felt this guy in our pockets, for the last eight years or so.

He’s Fergus Crawford, and we apparently bailed out his bank to the tune of €900 million.

Think about that for a second – one of the greatest corporate welfare scroungers in the history of the state doesn’t want to pay tax.

Fergus didn’t reveal much about his past or present.

For instance, he never mentioned that he was a relatively senior figure at ACC, or that his current employer manages pension funds for rich people, who are not renowned for their eagerness to send cheques to the revenue.

Given that his new venture is an Irish entity for Swiss investment house Sarasin, and that a story in the Irish Independent from 2013 says that they were set to take an office at St Stephen’s Green, it’s a short imaginative leap to imagine Mr Crawford building up a head of steam before charging down his marble steps to confront the people who paid for his mistakes.

Interestingly, Mr Crawford – if it is indeed the same fella who was chief economist and Head of Product Development at ACC, among other roles before the crash – didn’t waste too much time on the “middle-income earners” that he first appeared to be taking up the cudgels for.

Nope, he quickly abandoned them. Instead, his answer to Ireland’s problems was to “create wealth” – presumably the kind of “wealth creation” that he made his name in, and that led to a €64 billion bailout by the Irish people, who are now dying on trolleys for the privilege.

Blithely ignoring the fact that the Internet would out him within hours, our as-yet anonymous concerned citizen (erroneously reported by some as a “small business owner”) then moved on to his real concern – “What about their pensions?”

For those unfamiliar with how this works, Fergus and the likes of Sarasin invest people’s money to provide them with an income when they retire, siphoning off a huge chunk of money in the process, often laughably called “management fees”.

Part of their strategy is to pay as little tax as possible, sailing very close to the wind of legality, and sometimes ending up on the wrong side of it.

As recently as January of this year Eric Sarasin paid a “low six-figure sum” to close a tax fraud investigation into his affairs in Germany.

I wrote yesterday that Ireland is run for The Lads, and with impeccable timing, up pops Fergus and his enormous sense of entitlement to confirm my every word.

Ireland is still run for The Lads alright, and will continue to be so.

But The Lads are getting worried that their gravy train is about to be derailed.

It’s about time.





Why I won’t be watching the #GE16 Leaders Debate

The Irish people: Lions led by (these) donkeys

For years I have commented on political communication in Ireland, as well as campaigning for the right of Irish emigrants to vote.

But having watched the “Leaders Debate” on TV3 I’m not sure a vote would be anything to have anymore, and frankly another debate is about as much use to me as an ashtray on a motorbike.

The “debate” on TV3, such as it was, was awful, undignified tripe, consisting of a herd of empty-headed braying donkeys struggling to make their soundbytes heard in an echo chamber of rampant egotism.

You had Gerry Adams pontificating about the great and the good, as if he had never heard of the generation of murder and misery that happened on his watch in Northern Ireland.

You had Joan Burton, whose only political achievement of note is reneging on every promise her party made since the last election (including the cutting of base rates of social welfare, which for some reason Labour still deny, despit the slashing of benefits to young people, driving them out of the country).

You had Micheál Martin, the incumbent Ard Rí of the Party of Spivs (or, as Gaeilge, Fianna Fáil), conveniently forgetting that all the things he was criticising the current administration for were caused by the fact that he and his cronies utterly destroyed Ireland as they buried their noses ever-deeper in the trough.

And then you had the top banana, the laughably inept Enda “Hide and Seek Champion of Mayo” Kenny, the man who is Taoiseach when it simply doesn’t matter who “leads” Ireland.

There is little to suggest that the RTE version will be any different.

It is often said that one canvasses in poetry and governs in prose, but not these morons – they canvass in soundbytes tested on focus groups and then govern in whatever way they are told by their betters in business, the banks and the EU.

Tonight’s debate will add another few hardy bucks to the mix, including Lucinda Creighton of right-wing crackpot outfit Renua, and Stephen Donnelly, a man of admittedly impressive intellect but also a possessor of principles (such as his broad acceptance of TTIP) which would be anathema to other Social Democratic parties that sprang from the workers movements.

But at the end of the day, principles do not matter in Irish politics.

All that matters is power.

If you want to know about the parties, by all means read their manifestos, but in doing so please be aware that, in Ireland, your vote only elects a parliament, not a government.

Literally everything that is said and written between now and when you cast your ballot has no value, as once the count is in all bets are off and the jockeying for position in the next junta begins.

And no matter what they say now, everyone is open to governing with everyone else, because all that matters in Ireland is being at the top table, however briefly, and maximising the return for yourself and your mates once it is achieved.


Let Berkley families bury their children in peace

When a tragic death occurs, journalists are often excoriated for being heartless ghouls who knock on the doors of the bereaved, intruding on their boundless private grief to titillate and inform the masses.

Thankfully, in most cases, this is far from the truth. Despite having more than our fair share of sociopaths in this line of work, no-one I know enjoys it.

And if it is done with dignity and respect, it can serve a valuable function in the grieving process, as it allows the family a chance not just to express their sorrow, but to put on the record the character of the person they lost.

For many (but by no means all) there is great comfort in a newspaper publishing their name, their photo, the names of their children, how important they were to the community. It affirms their right to grieve, and the right of the community at large to feel their loss.

On the whole, Ireland’s media has, from what I have seen, played a stellar role in reporting the tragic deaths of six young people in Berkley.

The one utterly pathetic example was the Irish Daily Star (and to a lesser extent the Examiner, who used the same picture, although I haven’t sen how it was published), whose front page showed a level of either incompetence or insensitivity any professional journalist or editor would be ashamed of.

Thankfully, the rest made up for it. From the initial news to adding context and colour, as well as the righteous and rightful indignation at the appalling rubbish produced by the New York Times, the tone of the coverage has been about right.

On Friday morning the John Murray Show had songwriter Jimmy McCarthy as a guest, and it was stunning radio.

Interspersed with his magnificent music, John and Jimmy had the conversation that all of Ireland had been having last week – on love and loss, life and death, and how we have no choice but to go on, no matter how little we feel like it.

There have been expressions of sympathy from far and wide, from footballer Bastian Schweinstieger to the Script on the stage at Croke Park, and the painful yet beautiful tale of how Aer Lingus staff did their very best to make the journey as comfortable as possible for the grieving families.

But while all of this is surely welcome, we must be careful not to step over the threshold and intrude on the private grief of the families.

Ireland has lost, but their loss is so much more.

We must allow them to retain ownership of their children’s memories as they bring them home to be buried.

We must listen to them and allow them to decide how and when their children are to be remembered.

We must be ready to listen when they speak of them, and prepared for the moment they decide to be silent.

16 years in Sweden has taught me that grief is very silent here – it is to be borne almost alone, seldom spoken of or shared.

To be honest, I prefer the Irish way – we deal with death as friends, families and communities, and though it will visit us all, we do not fear it as much because we do not face it alone.

So if the families ask for privacy to grieve, let them have it. Put down the cameras, turn off the dictaphones, walk away from the front door.

Because no matter what questions we ask or what pictures we take, nothing will ever capture the loss that they are experiencing.


Bad apologies a sign of the Times

What else should I write
I don’t have the right
What else should I be
All apologies
- Nirvana, “All Apologies”

So the New York Times has apologised for a story insulting six dead young Irish people, insinuating that they and thousands of other young Irish people are nothing more than drunken vandals and troublemakers.

But judging by the apology, they don’t actually realise what they did wrong.

According to NYT spokesperson Eileen Murphy, they “understand”.

We understand and agree that some of the language in the piece could be interpreted as insensitive, particularly in such close proximity to this tragedy.

The problem for Murphy is that it’s not that the “language in the piece could be interpreted as insensitive” – that is exactly what it was.

No interpretation necessary.

After all, it juxtaposes six recently-deceased young people with a “national embarrassment” to Ireland – a phenomenon for which no concrete evidence is offered, apart from one column from 2014, a quick perusal of a Facebook group, and a few complaints from neighbours.

This, apparently, is how journalism is conducted at one of America’s most prestigious newspapers.

The three reporters whose byeline is on the story aren’t exactly novices either. Adam Nagourney is national political reporter, while Quentin Hardy is an award-winning journalist and deputy technology editor.

Somehow between them and their superiors, they got it wrong.

But they still don’t even know how wrong.

“…there was a more sensitive way to tell the story…” Nagourney told NYT Public Editor Margaret Sullivan.

He’s right – and in this case, it was by not telling it at all.

The journalistic instincts of Nagourney and his colleagues were actually right – the story needed to be “moved on”, context needed to be given, explanations sought.

But there is nothing in the J1 visa program or the behaviour of Irish students that contributed to their deaths.

The J1 issue might even be worthy of a story on its own merits, but not here, not now, and certainly not in this way.

What might have been relevant would have been to go through building regulations, landlords cramming students and other migrant workers into sub-par accommodation, and the exploitation of these young people by unscrupulous business owners.

But the innate conservative nature of the New York Times does not lend itself to that kind of scrutiny – as seen on countless occasions, it is the establishment’s nodding donkey.

In short, the New York Times story was as hurtful as it was unavoidable.

Its instinct is always to apportion blame to the weak.

The wounds to Ireland’s pride will heal.

The families, in time, will forget, the story hopefully receding and replaced by happier memories of the brothers and sisters, friends and neighbours that are no longer with us.

But the New York Times will continue to tug its forelock to the powerful, because that is its nature.

And no apology in the world will change it.



The sound of silence on Ireland’s terraces

Nothing to see here, lads…

In recent weeks, football has been rocked to its very foundations, and at long last there are whispers of change.

Except in Ireland.

In Ireland, FAI CEO John Delaney, who earns over €300,000 a year, revealed a secret payment of €5 million from an institutionally corrupt organisation (FIFA) that was kept secret from FAI members and the paying public.

That €5 million was the price of Ireland’s silence for an erroneous refereeing decision.

(In fact, it was ostensibly for “reputational damage” to the FAI – but if you’re stupid enough to ask to be the 33rd nation at the World Cup, you deserve all the ridicule you get.)

Unfortunately, there are more sinister goings-on at the FAI than a simple €5 million backhander, and pretty much all of them have to do with protecting its most powerful man.

Over the weekend came the revelation that a match program for the Scotland game was printed, and then pulped, and a new one produced, with references to transparency and accountability removed.

The remarks were contained in Delaney’s address to the Irish football family in the program.

A statement released by the FAI said that Delaney was “entirely unaware of this change to the programme.”

That statement is not even remotely credible.

Any communications executive – in this case former Ryanair spokesman Peter Sherrard, who was thrown under the bus in a statement released by the association – changing the words of the CEO in a document for public circulation, about a topic of global public interest, and without that CEO’s consent, can expect to be sacked on the spot.

Unawareness, it seems, can be used to explain away a myriad of inconsistencies.

When a video clip of him singing a Republican song was circulated online last year, Delaney’s solicitors – the favourite tool of the powerful (such as Delaney’s good friend Denis O’Brien) when it comes to steering the discourse about matters of public interest – contacted media outlets, saying that they would simply deny that it was their client in the video.

Except it was him.

But Delaney was, of course, “unaware” of the legal threats, as he was on an aeroplane at the time.

But despite his being indisposed on a plane, it seems taking to the air is not for everyone.

On Saturday, fans had gathered money together to organise a fly-over of Landsdowne Road by a light plane pulling a “Delaney Out!” banner.

In an even more sinister development, Gardaí – who have no jurisdiction in such matters – visited the Weston Airport where the plane was based in an “advisory” capacity, and reportedly cited health and safety concerns.

The plane never took off.

For the last two home games, fans – in particular those headed for the “singing section” at Landsdowne Road which provides much, if not all, of the atmosphere at Ireland games – have been searched on the way into the ground.

Banners and flags – especially those critical of the FAI or with “Delaney Out!” messages printed on them – have been confiscated.

On occasion, the reason being given was that the banners and flags weren’t “registered”, whatever that is supposed to mean.

The fans have, according to themselves, been surrounded in an intimidating fashion by security personnel during the games against England and Scotland.

The official FAI Twitter account has so far refused to engage with me on the issue – not uncommon when one’s media policy is basically the North Korean playbook.

The FAI simply see no reason to honestly answer valid questions put to them.
Much like Sepp Blatter.
Delaney is and has been enormously critical of Blatter, and especially of the geriatric Swiss administrator’s clinging to power when many want to see a new broom.

But instead of engaging with those who are critical of his failings – the free-fall of Irish football, its perilous financial state, and his own drunken ramblings around Europe while ostensibly representing the game in Ireland – Delaney seeks to silence them, in much the same way as Blatter seeks to shunt the elephants in the room behind the curtains.

Like Blatter, John Delaney should step aside, because like Blatter, more time is currently spent discussing John Delaney than the issues that face the organisation he is supposed to be running.

And as Ronald Reagan once memorably opined, “if you’re explaining, you’re losing.”

Both the FAI and Delaney seem to spend most of their time explaining things they have done, or ignoring things they should be explaining.

But like Blatter, John Delaney will not go voluntarily, or quietly.

Whether it is ego or greed that drives them, the rich and powerful, and their attendant sense of enormous entitlement, are not prone to bouts of soul-searching or self-awareness.

And despite the enormous preponderance of evidence to the contrary (his annual salary is three times more than the prize money the League of Ireland winners get), Delaney genuinely believes that he is doing a superb job administering football in Ireland.

For that professional hubris alone, he should resign.

Because if, like Blatter, he were to listen to the valid criticisms of the fans, he would see the enormous damage he has done to the game he claims to love, and quickly call full time on a reign of obfuscation, dubious finances and sporting failure.

Denis, the Dáil and denying freedom of the press

Imagine living in a country where one single person edited every newspaper and every news bulletin on radio on TV.

If you live in Ireland, you don’t have to.

Because that’s exactly what Denis O’Brien did today.

Citing an injunction handed down recently to stop RTE broadcasting a story about his private finances, the businessman and major media owner used his lawyers to threaten and cajole anyone trying to report what went on in parliament.

That’s right – statements made in the Irish legislature were censored by a Maltese (for tax purposes, at any rate) businessman.

Front-page stories were ditched. Headlines were read out, but the details left untouched.

The story? There is no story. Move along. Nothing to see here, said Denis.

The fact that he is prepared to do that shows that Denis O’Brien is probably not fit to buy an Irish newspaper off a stand, let alone actually own one, and a few radio stations for good measure.

His childish, petulant response is more suited to a dictatorship than a democracy.

Denis claims that every citizen is entitled to privacy and to his or her good name, and that is true.

But equally, taxpayers lying on trolleys in hospitals are entitled know if O’Brien – probably the biggest beneficiary of corporate welfare in Ireland, as well as owner of several entities charging the state handsomely for their services- has received their money either in error or under less-than-onerous terms.

If businesses he owned or bought have had debts written off, especially at the expense of the taxpayer, it is in the public interest.

How Denis pays his electricity bill is his own private business.

But if he has got money off a state-owned bank bailed out and underwritten by the Irish people – who, to pay for it, have to pay water charges which no less than Denis O’Brien is profiting handsomely from – it’s in the public interest.

If he has got contracts, deals or acquisitions featuring public money or state bodies without following due process, it’s in the public interest.

O’Brien originally tried to shut down the interest rate story by reverting to the courts. The intervention of Catherine Murphy – who has behaved impeccably – has now moved the story on.

I hate to break it to you Denis, and in fairness I’m surprised it’s me that has to do it given the amount of media bods that surround you, but the injunction you got is not worth the paper it’s written on.

The story has moved on.

The genies is out of the bottle.

And he ain’t going back in anytime soon.

And this is what upsets Denis the most.

No matter how much he pays, we cannot un-know what we now know.

But his reaction is that which is typical of the powerful.

Threaten. Cajole. Denigrate.

How dare these proles stand up to me?

Stand up they have, and they will continue to do so.

Fair play to those at RTE like Keelan Shanley who continued, despite their hands being tied by useless legal advice, to challenge.

The operators at Broadsheet were equally brave.

I wonder, though, about those at Independent Newspapers and in Marconi House, who were either deathly silent or merely gave passing mention to a mini-constitutional crisis, just a week after one of the proudest moments in the history of our democracy.

If I were them and my reporting was being blunted by an owner seemingly only out to serve himself, I would seriously question whether my job, along with my paper or station, was worth having at all.

Being freelance may be an insecure life, but I’d rather my career die because I stood up for something I believe in – freedom of speech and freedom of the press – than be on my knees in front of Denis and his high-priced lawyers.

Note: Today Our Man In Stockholm filled in the forms to register as a publisher in Sweden, meaning that articles and reports can be published here under Swedish media law, rather than the draconian legislation that allows the powerful to sue the press into silence. More news as it breaks…