“Frank McNally’s Canada Day Celebration”

While venturing through Ranelagh’s quiet nooks on a Thursday evening, augmented by Google maps, I was intercepted by a woman, sporting a grin and a pet greyhound, declaring amusingly (the woman, not the greyhound) that the Mafia seemed to have landed in town. I briefly wondered if she was referring to me, until the presence of sleek, black vehicles neatly aligned snapped my focus back to my hunt – the residence of the Canadian ambassador.

I informed the woman about a nearby garden party to commemorate Canada Day (somewhat ahead of schedule), thus assuring her that Dublin 6 hadn’t succumbed to a mob takeover. Funnily enough, the first acquaintance I bumped into at the gathering was a member of our cheekily labelled “Dublin-Monaghan Mafia”. This is a cluster of immigrants from Oriel County, resolute in their resolve to penetrate the upper strata of Irish society and cast a spotlight, if not bestow grandeur, on our compact county.

The individual I refer to, I shall not reveal, for his position in our hierarchy is one of prominence. Additionally, as an accounting professional, his flamboyant hairstyle is already raising enough eyebrows.

Before heading to the party, I had planned to rendezvous with two companions in Ranelagh Village, pseudonymously labelled “Sarah” and “Paolo” here – the actual identities need to be concealed due to their significant involvement in public transportation designing. They, however, opted for a different party route which put them in the lead. Upon my arrival at the party, I was caught off-guard by their absence. I reached out to “Sarah” voicing my concerns, only to be met with an embarrassed confession: “We’re a wee bit lost.”

Despite this hiccup, the pair managed to make it just in time for what many concluded as the climax of the evening – a speech by the departing ambassador, Nancy Smyth, quoting a recent column by “Frank McNally in his Irishman’s Diary”.

Creating connections was one of the prime focus areas in this year’s Leaving Cert English examination and it’s a common practice employed by columnists in their published writings and diplomats in their face-to-face interactions. Ambassador Smyth notably excelled at this during his unique and vibrant tenure in Ireland, which kicked off in pre-pandemic 2019 and is due to conclude in August.

An exotic element of the gathering included an exhibition housed in a greenhouse, an impressive Victorian-era construct. It hosted a variety of plant species as well as a display honouring 85 years of Irish-Canadian diplomatic ties, represented through the lives of five previous heads of mission.

John Doherty Kearney was one of them – a brave young man who was awarded a Military Cross for his fearless deed in World War I and later represented Canada in Ireland in the neutral years of 1941. Kearney received his medal following a gunfight at Upton Wood in France. Shortly after, he had the occasion to be in Cork, where he wed a woman aptly named Winnifred E Greenish, considering the setting of the event.

Using ‘Greenish’ to describe the political past of Oakley Road, the present home of Canadian ambassadors, would be an extreme understatement. Residents of the area include the historical figures such as Patrick Pearse, who ran his original St Enda’s school in the neighbouring Cullenswood House, and Thomas MacDonagh, who lived at No. 29, while Éamonn Ceannt resided a touch further up. The road also served as a departure point for four men, including Pearse’s brother Willie, who faced execution following the Easter 1916 Rising – a fact that earned the road the nickname “Rebel Ranelagh”.

A temporary dip in Canadian-Irish diplomatic relations, as pointed out on Thursday, is speculated to have led to Ireland’s exit from the Commonwealth in 1949. It was understood that Taoiseach John A Costello was intent on repealing the External Relations Act, de Valera’s ingenious strategy that enabled us to recognise and not recognise the British monarch simultaneously.

In 1948, during a state banquet in Canada, it’s claimed that an offence was taken by him at the perceived slights, including the display of a copy of “Roaring Meg” – the artillery utilised by the royalists during the Derry Siege. This personal irritation convinced him to exceed his initial plans at a media briefing.

He aspired to exclude weaponry from the political landscape of Ireland. However, his statements and the British reaction, in the words of Costello’s biographer David McCullagh, “seemingly established the foundation for the IRA’s Border Campaign 10 years hence.” McCullagh further stated, “The sequence which began with a model of an artillery piece would conclude with actual firearms.”

The Canadian national anthem begins with “O” (“O Canada”). Luckily, full historical continuity would be observed several decades later. Enter Canadian military leader John de Chastelain, also stated in Ambassador Smyth’s oration, under whose supervision (alongside two celebrated priests), the majority of the firearms that had plagued Irish politics were eventually eliminated for good.

Condividi