Divisive divilment

The Last Straw: This week, perhaps, should have been a time to let bygones be bygones, but even at the end he divided us just…

The Last Straw: This week, perhaps, should have been a time to let bygones be bygones, but even at the end he divided us just as he did in the days when, it seemed, he was the dominant figure in our lives. Surely, through our history, no man stirred our passions so, except maybe Michael Flatley. Cherished by his supporters, reviled by his enemies, few were indifferent to him.

For some he was, and always will be, the greatest Irishman in our history, or, at the very least, joint first with Cú Chulainn and Van Morrison. A statesman, a leader like no other, he will forever be "The Boss".

For others, well, they simply don't care what he did for this country, how fearlessly and valiantly he led us through the dark days, his transgressions were indefensible. And he only ever looked after number one. He had, they allege, a flawed pedigree.

"Una Duce, una voce," they say, "that's how it was with him, it was his way or the highway." And opponents who attempted to impede him were crushed ruthlessly, some so wounded their careers were all but destroyed. That, too, they will never forgive. "But to be a leader of men one must turn one's back on men," his devotees have argued, to which his detractors respond, "yeah, but the price of greatness is responsibility".

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Perhaps. But the fact remains, those detractors would dispute that he did this State any service, that the only person he served was himself. "Self service," as they put it so bitterly during the week. While a reluctance to be hypocritical is an admirable quality, it was still sad to see that some folk just couldn't let the past go, even fleetingly, on the day we heard the sad news. Trenchant views are all very well, but surely there's a time and a place?

Nobody, of course, should expect those who felt he was a disgrace to this country to sing his praises and set aside their true feelings for the man, but a dignified silence on the day that was in it would have been nice. There's plenty of time for us all to reflect and to pass judgement, but this week, surely, wasn't the time to do it.

He will, then, continue to divide us. We should probably agree to differ, for the sake of peace in the house, but one suspects we will bicker about him ever more. Even now we're fighting over what legacy he leaves us: "glorious" say some, "scandalous" say others.

Some argue there was a Napoleonic quality to him, others say "indeed, and it's a pity he wasn't banished to St Helena". Harsh, but these are the people who've cried all week: "we'll never forgive and we'll never forget!". Those who revered him could not deny that there were times when he let even them down, that there were occasions when his actions were nigh on impossible to defend. There were times, too, when you'd be afraid to put on the news for fear you'd hear he was in trouble again, and when he was you knew his enemies would revel in his shame.

But did he feel any shame? Did he need to? Well, again, that's something over which the two "camps" will clash. "All he wanted was the best for his country," argue some, "and all he got was the best for himself," say the rest.

But surely no one could deny he loved his country? Yes, some insist he let his country down, betrayed it even, but how could anyone argue he didn't feel a passion for Ireland? One is loath to bring gender in to it, but there is no doubt, when you study a portrait of him even now, there's something about him that leaves women weakened at the knees. Perhaps it's the eyes, or the chiselled cheeks. Maybe it's the rogue in him, the twinkle in the eye. The divil, the devil in him. Charismatic, magnetic, intriguing, enthralling, say what you like, except "dull". But, sadly, the news this week opened old wounds, we hadn't even it in us to unite in respect. Naturally, then, it all got a little bit heated, old arguments were dusted down and aired again, bringing us back to those bitter days when he was in his prime and he was all we really talked, and fought, about.

Our friend let rip. "All these tributes, they make my stomach churn. Do these people forget what he did? He shamed our country! A true patriot my arse, he was a traitor to the core!"

We stood our ground. "Well, I'm sorry, while I accept he did some things that were dodgy, I would still classify him as the greatest Irishman in the history of Irishmen. Without question, our finest ever leader."

Our friend got angrier. "Rubbish! There were far greater leaders than him! The only good thing he did was bring in the free travel."

We were confused. "Jaysus, did Keano bring in free travel?"

Our friend was befuddled. "Keano? What are you on about? I'm talking about Charlie."

Mary Hannigan

Mary Hannigan

Mary Hannigan is a sports writer with The Irish Times