The question is often asked, accusingly, why Ireland worked itself into such a lather about Ukraine but not about other benighted parts of the world. The answer, if not entirely satisfying, is that we are human. We suddenly realised that Kyiv is on our doorstep, as close to us as Malaga. The people looked like most of us. Many Irish families had reason to be grateful for their liberal surrogacy policies and we certainly knew some eastern Europeans who were weeping for Ukraine as kindred spirits while terrorised by the prospect of Vladimir Putin’s next move.
Above all, it was a clear-cut case of right and wrong. Despite efforts by Putin’s useful idiots to muddy the waters, there was no moral ambiguity. When Putin, still persuaded that he commanded the second-mightiest army in the world, invaded, most Irish people didn’t have to consider their response. If there was a sliver of mercy for Ukraine in its agony, it was that crystal clarity of Putin’s brutal, imperial ambitions and the potential cost to us all of failing to stop him.
When Simon Coveney opened the new Irish Embassy in Kyiv a year ago, he mentioned “the long-standing issue of the illegal annexation of Crimea and the city of Sevastopol”, saying he was glad to be part of the international community which had convened to co-ordinate efforts to resolve it.
The illegal annexation had been ongoing for seven years. Russia’s ridiculous insistence that it was not a party to the conflict – claiming it had no forces in the disputed regions – had been a big blockage to international efforts to resolve it. But in all that time, how many of us had even clocked the conflict on our doorstep, one that had already cost the deaths of more than 14,000 people and turned Ukraine into one of the most heavily landmines countries in the world?
Why didn’t we notice it then? What might we have done if we had? Would Stop The War demonstrations have stalled Putin’s ambitions? Hardly. But they would have been a signal to Ukrainians that they were not alone.
Well-intentioned readers
We are human. How many of us listen intently to news about Afghanistan anymore or even look up when the news shows recurring images of youths hurling stones at heavily armed Israeli soldiers and missiles exploding on hyper-congested Palestinian apartment blocks?
On a good day, a well-intentioned reader might try to google some understanding and find themselves choosing between “Why Ireland’s pandering to Israel is treason” (Electronic Intifada) and “Why does Ireland hate Israel?”, (Mark Regev, former senior diplomat and adviser to Binyamin Netanyahu, attributing the “hate” partly to anti-Semitism).
The conflict has been going on for over 70 years. Diplomats regularly express horror at atrocities on either side, with Simon Coveney among the most vocal in challenging Israeli activities. In August, Ireland was among nine EU states that protested at Israeli raids on several Palestinian NGO charities designated “terrorist organisations” without any supporting evidence. They included al-Haq, which has a long record of human rights advocacy and is partly funded by Irish Aid.
We look away again hoping there are enough supernaturally patient, gifted grown-ups on all sides sufficiently invested in the endless grind of diplomacy to keep us from the harm over there, as we did over Ukraine.
Illegal annexations
But we can absorb a couple of bite-sized facts. Illegal annexations are not confined to Ukraine. Palestinian refugees and internally displaced persons remain the largest and longest-standing case of displaced persons in the world today. We could oblige ourselves by getting to know them a little.
On Wednesday morning, anyone around the GPO at 10am can take in a show as the Lajee Dabke group of young Palestinian dancers and musicians perform outdoors to start a cultural tour that will play at Dublin’s Liberty Hall Theatre that night and then around the country. Hosts will include the Lord Mayors of Dublin and Cork among others with visits to Áras an Uachtaráin and Tayto Park thrown in.
The teenagers were raised on the northern edge of Bethlehem in the Aida refugee camp, the most tear-gassed place on the planet according to a 2017 report, enclosed on two sides by the West Bank Barrier (the wall), overlooked by six Israeli military towers and close to several expanding Israeli settlements that are illegal under international law. The camp is subject to regular incursions by Israeli soldiers, and a United Nations Relief and Works Agency report refers to clashes involving residents, many of them children, with “an increasing number of injuries as a result of excessive force by the ISF [Israeli security forces]”.
That such children can find the joy, grace and creativity to dance and sing is a miracle of resilience and a tribute to Lajee. Maybe Ireland can help them to look away for a while.
The lesson for us, the lucky ones, is to look a little closer.