WHAT have Francis Fukuyama and Karl Marx got to do with last weekend's extraordinary game at Croke Park? Assuming Marx didn't line out for London Russian during his long stay in the English capital, the obvious answer is 'nothing'. But a little analysis of the significance of the match beyond the strict '15 men versus 15 men' might suggest otherwise.

When Fukuyama famously coined the phrase "the end of history" in 1989 he was referring to the collapse of the Berlin Wall; the ending of the Cold War and what he saw as the end point of mankind's ideological evolution resulting in the universalisation of western liberal democracy. But the phrase can as accurately be applied to last weekend's Ireland-England match.

In the run-up to the game and its aftermath, it was routinely described as historic. An understandable description, but one that fails to do justice to the occasion.

Ireland beating Italy in Giants stadium was historic; as was Ronnie Delaney winning gold in Melbourne; Ray Houghton's goal against England in Stuttgart; Ireland's 1948 Grand Slam and another dozen memorable sporting victories.

But what makes the Ireland-England game last weekend different was how it transcended sport. To paraphrase Fukuyama, it represented "the end of history" between Ireland and England. In the post-Belfast Agreement era, the end has been coming for some time. But symbolically the importance of 'God Save the Queen' being played at the scene of one of the most high-profile atrocities of British rule in Ireland cannot be overstated.

The sheer sense of relief in the stadium after the anthem passed without a murmur of disapproval - and with a warm round of applause at the finish - was clear evidence that the 80,000plus people there not only believed a rubicon had been crossed, but were delighted, and not a little relieved, that it had been.

Perhaps it's the history geek in me but, sitting in the stands last Saturday, I couldn't help think of Robert Emmet's line from the dock about his epitaph not having been written until Ireland had taken its place among the nations of the world. Obviously, Ireland took its place among the nations of the world a long time time ago but, without getting too misty-eyed about it, it was a new confident and self-assured Ireland on display at Croke Park.

There is no doubt that the largely wellto-do make-up of the crowd and the general absence of tribalism in rugby were factors in the positive reaction of the British anthem. Would 'God Save the Queen' be treated as respectfully if Ireland were playing England in soccer? The anthem was roundly booed by Irish fans in Lansdowne Road in 1995 on the last occasion the two teams met in a soccer international - the infamous match that was abandoned after English fans went on the rampage. Sure it was a different time, but 'God Save the Queen' would not have been booed during a rugby international back then.

Which brings us to Karl Marx. His thesis on the end of history was sharply in conflict with Fukuyama's. Marx believed the end of history would come at a time when class distinctions would no longer exist.

The argument among many of those who were less enamoured with the opening up of Croke Park to rugby matches is that rugby remains a game where class distinctions are emphasised and which is largely the domain of the middle classes and private schools.

While there is a fair degree of irritating inverted snobbery towards rugby, it is hard to argue with the point made by a friend recently that he would change his attitude towards rugby when a player from a tough council estate would be able to turn up at a rugby club without eyebrows being raised.

However, there is no doubt that this Irish team - despite being largely populated by players who learned their trade at the traditional rugby schools - has the capacity to push back the class barriers that have existed for decades. For starters, they are hugely successful and success is always hugely attractive.

But this team has also wormed its way into the affections of the Irish public. Of course it helps when they are hammering England (the joke last week was that a memorial service would now be held in Croke Park for the players slaughtered there. . . last Saturday! ).

But compared to the notoriously mediaunfriendly and sullen bunch of millionaires that populate the international soccer squad, the rugby team come across as deadly serious about their sport, but likeable and down to earth. The photographs in the Irish Times of the players down in the Forty Foot taking a dip and smiling and chatting with the public only reaffirmed the impression. And you couldn't help but be touched by Brian O'Driscoll's decency in taking time to chat to and reassure the mascots before what was one of the biggest games of his career.

Rugby is obviously a long way behind Gaelic games and soccer in terms of popular appeal, but this Irish team - with their charm and their obvious potential to reach a World Cup final next Autumn - are a marketeer's dream. They offer huge potential to spread rugby beyond its traditional bailiwicks of Dublin and Cork private schools, Limerick, and parts of Ulster. Last week, sports fans across the country would have been cheered at the news of Kilkenny College knocking out the mighty Blackrock in the Leinster Senior Cup. Perhaps it's wishful thinking, but imagine, for example, if traditional GAA schools such as St Mel's of Longford or Coolmine or St Peter's in Wexford were taking on the 'Rock, Clongowes and Terenure and beating them. Forget Marx and Fukuyama; if that happened, that really would be the end of history.