Amid changes, us parties have ireland in common

  • 12 November 2004
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The USA is a complex country with many contradictions. How could it be otherwise? In other land masses as vast as this regional or national rivalries are taken for granted. But here despite ethnic or racial background, all share a common nationality – one flag – one President – one United States.

In my 10 years or so of dipping into the USA there have been many changes. I came to New York for the first time during the early days of the Clinton era. Those were ebullient hopeful times. The mood in the White House on St Patrick's Day, as the Irish cheerfully, triumphally crowded into every nook and cranny of that historic building, seemed to match the mood outside.

The economy was buoyant. America was in good form. Or most of America was.

Clinton was excellent on Ireland, but he and I had different views on other foreign policy issues during our many meetings.

None of these issues, whether Rwanda, Cuba, the plight of the Third World countries crippled by foreign debt, genocide in the emerging Balkan states or famine in Africa seemed to penetrate the mass media here. Except for the Middle East.

I heard little criticism of the president on any of these issues from the Americans I met and worked with. In fact the first criticism I heard was over his pro-abortion stance and then later over allegations around the Lewinsky affair.

I was in New York for the 2000 election result. When I went to bed Al Gore was in the lead. I awoke to the extraordinary developments in Florida. For the rest of that visit I was witness to the arguments which that episode kicked off. People everywhere were galvanised by the election controversy. And then Al Gore conceded and the debate subsided.

George Bush became president. The style was different on Ireland but the substance was the same. And despite the lampooning the president receives in the media I always found him to be a man able to connect with his constituents – especially after 11 September.

In New York a month or so afterwards the trauma was obvious. Here was a city in shock. People were gloomy, frightened, worried. American flags and proclamations of defiance against Bin Laden were everywhere.

Everyone I met knew someone who had perished in the Twin Towers. I knew a number of people myself. Some were Sinn Féin supporters.

Mayor Rudy Giuliani, Governor George Pataki and President Bush led the fightback to restore public morale. It was Bush's finest hour. However, from outside the USA concerns began to be raised about the direction of the "War on Terror". There appeared to have been no real debate here about the invasion of Afghanistan. Much of the rest of the world was debating and criticising these actions. Some American friends of mine spoke bitterly of "anti-American feeling", particularly in Ireland.

Others worried about how their country was perceived internationally. By the time of the invasion of Iraq the debate was much less muted in the USA. For the first time my American friends were arguing about foreign policy. In some cases Sinn Féin's opposition to the war in Iraq was the spur for such comment but mostly it was just because this was the talking point of the time. Americans cared. But yet there was no national focus.

The Democrats were betwixt and between – as unsure on the war as their fellow citizens – supportive of their troops, and not wanting to seem unpatriotic.

Then the primaries and the run-in to the conventions started. One day on Capitol Hill I noticed a difference. There was a buzz in the corridors and elevators and on the little underground railroad that ferries people from one part of the Hill to the other. The Republicans were galvanised. The Democrats were coming awake. There was talk of Hillary Clinton as a contender. And then John Kerry emerged as the democratic front-runner.

On Tuesday evening 2 November as I left Ireland the media speculation was of a high turnout favouring the Democrats. But later George Bush's second term as US president was announced by the pilot of our American Airlines plane as it flew high over Portland, Maine, on the last leg into JFK airport.

As I sat in the immigration hall, a victim of Homeland Security and – apart from Richard McAuley – the only white person in a large crowd of slightly apprehensive black and Asian men, women and children, it was obvious that things are still changing here.

Since then Richard and I have endured a city-a-day leapfrog from New York to San Francisco. Our events are organised by both Republicans and Democrats. The Democrats are on a downer, the Republicans justifiably pleased. Their election success was overseen by one Karl Rove. I have heard him described by Democrats as a "genius".

The Republicans successfully tapped into traditional feelings against abortion, same gender marriages, stem cell experimentations, as well as patriotic feelings engendered by the "War against Terror". Bush exuded a sense of conviction and certainty.

Many outside the USA will see this Republican victory simply as a mandate for the war in Iraq. But it's much more complex than that. It is America – mainly white America – forming its wagon train in a circle around traditional domestic values as much as anything else.

The USA is polarised. Some will argue it was always so. But never so obviously or at a time of such international discord and uncertainty. In the meantime there's work for the Irish American lobby. One Republican friend complains that the two Irish papers here The Voice and The Echo supported Kerry – so did most of the activist groups. My friend feels vindicated for his support for Bush but worried about how all of this will affect the Irish lobby. I tell him not to worry. Ireland is the one thing many Republicans and Democrats have in common.

President Bush is now mapping out his administration and strategies and priorities for the next four years. Our task, along with Irish America, is to ensure that the Irish peace process remains a priority, despite the many other pressing issues.

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