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30th Deireadh Fómhair 2009. Small u-unionists? Your man says that I shouldn’t use the term small u-unionists. ‘How would you like to be called a small r-republican?’ He asks. I have been called worse than that I think quietly to myself. I say nothing to him. He has been in a funny mood all day. Male menopause? The thing is I don’t mean to be offensive when I say small u-unionists. Or when I try to analyse the cause of your man’s funny mood. I’m sure that there are many small u-unionists who understand what I mean because they know that their unionism is more an accident of birth than an ideological position. These are the unionists who voted for the Good Friday Agreement and who then gave up the ghost on David Trimble and stayed at home during election time. One presumes that these small u-unionists wouldn’t have a lot of time for the DUP. They are not for a united Ireland, although they support Ireland in the rugby. Some may go hill walking in Donegal or west Mayo. A weekend in Dubli

October 26th 09 A Blog for all seasons Autumn has arrived. No bad thing. With all the talk of global warming and glacial melt down it is reassuring to sense autumnal evenings closing in and to know that there are certainties yet in the world. About ten years or so ago I got lost in the seasons. I was planting a lot of trees at the time. Native species. Ash, holly, blackthorn, beech, oak and one or two other smaller bushes. I also put in a few apple trees. In memory of old friends. As culchies will know, you should plant trees in the months with an ‘R’ in them. From September to March for those of you who are without a calendar. By the way the slang word culchie comes from County Maigh Eo, from the very fine town of Coillte Maigh or Kiltimagh. So for the period of intense planting, maybe about two and a half years, I lived in the seasons. The way farmers do, I guess. Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer became my measurement of the year. Seasons replaced months and weeks. I also cultivate

The Mairead Farrell Ladies Football Team Philadelphia Oct 23rd 2009 Thank God We’re Surrounded By Water. To Wales this week for a meeting of the British-Irish Parliamentary Assembly in Swansea. This blog was never in Wales before. My jetlag had jetlag as we journeyed forth in the rain from Belfast International Airport. My body clock was still on Philadelphia time. But this blog does not complain. That’s your man's prerogative. One gurner is enough in any entourage. In fairness he was in surprisingly good form. He likes Tír Eoghain women. So he was extremely pleased with my photos of the very successful Mairead Farrell Women’s Football team. Admiring the trophies with Coach Angela Mohan Based in Philly these young athletes have had a very successful season. We met last Friday. A Doire woman, a clatter of American ladies and a formidable line out – I nearly said line up – of Tír Eoghain women brought silverware, twice, to a very worthy team. Mairead would be delighted. Well done

October 19th 09 Achieving Irish reunification This blog travels to Wales on Tuesday – to Swansea – to speak to the British Irish Parliamentary Assembly. I will tell that forum that while Irish republicans want our rights, we do not seek to deny the rights of anyone else. We want justice for all and privilege for none. I will go on to point out that the Irish question, as it has been described by some over the years, is not simply one for the Irish. There is not only a democratic requirement on the part of the peoples of Britain to adopt a positive stance on how the Irish question should be finally settled, there is a moral imperative. The peoples of Britain have a duty to themselves, to unionists in particular, to the Irish in general, and even to the world, to stand up and speak their opinion on the issue of the reunification of Ireland. I believe that the economic and political dynamics in Ireland today make Irish reunification a realistic and realisable goal in a reasonable period o

With Mike's Wife Bernadette and their daughters. From left to right: Erin, Loretta, Mary, Bernadette, Denise, and Kathleen October 17th 09 Remembering Mike Doyle This Blog comes to you from Philadelphia. I am here to speak at an event to honour my friend Mike Doyle. I was to come to the USA earlier this week for a round of engagements in Washington but I postponed those because the current effort to get policing and justice powers devolved takes primacy at this time. But I couldn’t cancel Mike’s event or think of not turning up. He always turned up for us. So here I am for one night – travel all day Friday; speak Friday night – travel all day back to Ireland Saturday. Mike died last Christmas Eve. I couldn’t believe it when I was told. My thoughts were immediately with his family, with his wife Bernadette and daughters Mary, Denise, Loretta, Kathleen and Erin and their son Michael, his grandchildren and family circle. But they were also with his friends and colleagues here. With t

October 12 2009 No one must be left behind It has been a busy weekend. The US Secretary of State arrived in Ireland for events in Dublin and Belfast; the INLA announced an end to their armed actions; the Irish language community in Belfast celebrated three years of campaigning for an Acht na Gaeilge, and the Green Party worked out a ‘deal’ with Fianna Fáil which saved both from facing the wrath of the electorate at this time. As your man said to me they may be green but they’re not stupid! Stormont Castle is where this blog was this morning. It’s what architects and historians - and wikipedia - describe as a baronial castellated house. It was built in the 19th century and acquired in 1921, along with 235 acres of land, for the site of the Unionist parliament created as a result of partition. Over the years it has been home to Unionist Prime Ministers; government officials engaged in ‘war work’ during the early 1940’s; and a succession of British Secretaries of State after the British t

CEARTA AGUS CEILIURADH. This blog is very indebted to a wee man called Beausang. He was a Christian Brother and a champion of the Irish language. He was my ticket to the Gaeltacht in Donegal when I was a young student. A summer vacation with a bunch of other gaelgeoiri in DerryBeg was my first introduction to that wonderful county and to the magic world of an Irish speaking community. We went to Eoin Ellen Boyle’s house, eight or nine young Belfast boys bunked up in two back bedrooms. The small allowance given to the host families provided some economic subsidy for them in what were very lean times. Summer in the Gaeltacht was brilliant. Why do I tell you all this? Well Brother Beau died some time ago and among his belongings and books and other bits and pieces was the certificate he gave when I passed my exam for a silver fáinne. A fáinne is a small lapel pin which some Irish speakers wear to let other speakers know that they are gaelgeoiri. The silver one is for those who are fa

Deireadh Fómhair 5 2009 Happy birthday to me This blog is living the last day of my sixtieth year. Tomorrow I will be sixty one. Sixty one is a very good age to be. I am looking forward to it. That I am spending a great part of the last day of my sixtieth year in the company of the British Prime Minister Gordon Brown and sundry support staff – his, not ours – is a sign that I have not yet given up on the Democratic Unionist Party. They may or may not believe me but I hope they appreciate the time I am sacrificing for them and for the public good. Having said that it is my certain view that stalling by the DUP on the transfer of policing and justice powers – the reason for Mr Brown’s visitation - is without logic or rationale for anyone outside DUPland. The DUP position is contradictory and confused. Indeed a survey of recent DUP statements on this issue shows this to be the case. As a result the transfer of policing and justice powers has become a political football within unionism. Th

October 2nd 09 At the Clinton Global Initiative I was in New York last week for the first two days of the 5th annual gathering of the Clinton Global Initiative. The CGI was held, as usual in the Sheraton Hotel and Towers on 7th Avenue. As regular readers will know I spend a lot of my life in one hotel or another but the Sheraton is one I have grown quite familiar with. It also has an early link with the Clinton Presidency and the Irish peace process. In January 1994, and after torturous negotiations, President Clinton gave me a 48 hour visa to visit New York to participate in a conference on Ireland being organised by the National Committee on American Foreign Policy. There was uproar from the British. Their hysterical handling of the issue guaranteed that my visit made the headlines everywhere! For my part I wanted to ensure in the limited time available to me that I had an opportunity to meet Irish America. An event, sponsored by ‘Americans for a New Irish Agenda’, was held in the