IF THERE'S any consolation for German ambassador Christian Pauls this weekend, it's that he isn't the first diplomat serving in Ireland to put his foot in it, and he certainly won't be the last.
Perhaps the most famous example in modern times of a diplomatic faux pas dates back to January 1981, when the cultural affairs attache and press officer at the US embassy, Robin Berrington, ended up being recalled to Washington when remarks he made about Ireland in a Christmas newsletter to friends back home ended up on the front page of the Irish Times.
Like Pauls' comments, much of what Berrington said about Ireland was regarded by many people as absolutely accurate. Describing Ireland as an "isolated and provincial country", he wrote:
"Ireland has food and climate well matched for each other: dull. The one bright spot is the people, but after two-and-a-half years, they remain enigmatic and unpredictable, despite their easy approachability and charm.
"The high cost of goods, their unavailability, the dreary urbanscapes, the constant strikes and the long dark and damp winters combine to gnaw away at one's enthusiasm for being here. The Troubles up North are a constant depressant as well and there is no end in sight for that complex, senseless tragedy."
Perhaps the most memorable line in the letter . . . accidentally included in a publicity handout about president Ronald Reagan . . . was when Berrington wrote that Ireland was "pretty small potatoes compared to the other countries in Europe". Regarding the lack of great issues between the US and Ireland, he said that the "hottest item now seems to be the question whether or not Ronald Reagan's ancestors really do come from Co Tipperary".
Berrington spoke of the "high society Anglo-Irish set who speak as if they had marbles in their mouths and the wild-eyed Republicans who can see no wrong in Ireland and no right in the UK or the US".
Good humour, pluck and inventiveness While he acknowledged that Ireland was "undoubtedly a great place to visit", living here was another matter. "Don't forget Murphy's law is not Schmidt's law, Gonzalez's law or Mastroianni's law. I know. For the past two years, very little has gone right." However, Berrington was complimentary about the Irish people. "What is amazing is that the Irish manage to muddle through with such good humour, pluck and inventiveness. What keeps the rest of us going is wondering how the Irish will handle their next five-month mail strike (as in 1979), threemonth petrol shortage (as in 1986) or daily dispute and breakdown in telephones, buses, electricity and garbage pick-ups (as in 1978, 1979, 1980f ad infinitum). At least it makes great street theatre." And whatever reservations he had about Ireland, it was nothing compared to the "insufferable English" because "at least the Irish are warm, lively human beings".
Not surprisingly, the letter caused a bit of a stir, with the Irish Hotels Federation and the National Tourism Council among those to react.
The Department of Foreign Affairs did not make any comment.
Berrington himself regretted the letter was made public and insisted he had a "great love for the Irish people".
And he attracted strong support in the letters pages of the national newspapers. David Norris summed up the views of many when he said that Berrington may have "violated the rules of hospitality" but "the fact was that Robin Berrington had been telling a painful home truth to us".
The US media also took up the story. The Washington Star asked:
"Who will argue against Robin Berrington's proposal that in Ireland the food and climate are well matched, both being dull? Kinsale, perhaps. And after the nonsense about Reagan and Ballyporeen, how can Ireland be considered other than provincial?" But it pointed out that, if Berrington thought Ireland was dull, "wait until he gets to Japan [his next posting]".
Berrington had only a couple of months left on his tour of duty when the story broke and within a few days he was recalled to Washington for "consultations". A number of journalists and contacts in the arts world signed telegrams to his employer asking that no action be taken against him. Berrington was back in the headlines as recently as 2004 when he was one of 80 former diplomats who signed a letter critical of George Bush's policy in the Middle East.
Robin Berrington's boss in Ireland in the late '70s/early '80s was ambassador Bill Shannon, whose wife Elizabeth wrote a book about her time Up in the Park. However, if a withering review in the Irish Times is anything to go by, the book suffered from being overly diplomatic and safe. The reviewer described it as 350 pages of "superficial accounts and observations, most of which entail entertaining or being entertained in 'lovely' homes or inns over 'sumptuous' meals".
"She tells us that the Catholics are devout, the men drink a lot, the children and the countryside are beautiful, the phones don't work etc etc, " the review said. The highlight of the book seems to have been an incident when the ambassador and his wife were entertaining their French and Swiss counterparts, with Elizabeth discovering a still warm pile of her dog's droppings underneath the table. Her account of the efforts to hide the unwanted offering from her guests was, to be fair, genuinely hilarious.
One of Bill Shannon's successors, William Fitzgerald hit the headlines before he even arrived here when he told a congressional hearing in 1992 that the Maastricht referendum was already over and that he thought the Ireland Fund was meant to encourage dialogue and cooperation between unionists and loyalists . . . ouch!
An internal document, circulated to British officials ahead of the EU presidency in December 2003, gave a wonderful insight into what our nearest neighbours think of us. On the whole it was flattering . . . a country of four million where "everyone knows everyone" . . . but it included a few gems such as the revelation that we won't find jokes about potatoes funny and a warning to "never take the Mick".
A list of no-nos Other no-nos include getting into debates about the North, referring to the country as Eire and the use of words such as mainland, British Isles and Southern Ireland.
Fine Gael and Labour wouldn't have been impressed by the blunt assessment, "strong government, no credible opposition". On our civil servants, the document was pure Irish RM, counselling that they are "generally friendly, approachable and laidback" but "don't be deceived. Some very acute minds at work."
But best of all was the phonetic guide: Teeshock; Tawnashta; Oroktas; Doyle; Shanad; Feena Foil; and Slann-che. As the British no doubt wouldn't say, bleedin' deadly.
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