No image problem for republican women
It's always a pleasant surprise to see armed republicans just
being themselves on RTE television, especially when their actions
are set to the stirring chords of O Riada's `Mise Eire'. But the
film footage seemed very grainy, and it was in black and white.
``These were some of the women who took part in the fight for
Irish freedom at the beginning of this century,'' explained Mary
Kennedy, whose new chat show, Kennedy (RTE 1, Saturdays, 9.20
pm), is enlivening the weekends of middle Ireland.
``Their involvement in political life has often been neglected or
underplayed,'' she continued. ``But there's an exhibition on in
Kilmainham Jail at the moment, and it tells the stories of these
women.''
In studio was Sinéad McCoole, who organised the ``Guns and
Chiffon'' event, with some trinkets. Such as Constance
Markievicz's personal firearm, a neat little pistol, small
calibre but effective at close range.
``This gives an idea of the military side to her activities,'' said
the historian.
Mary Kennedy brandished a magazine, `Bean na hEireann', which at
one time was apparently the republican equivalent of `Image'.
Helena Moloney, who was its editor, once said she was aiming for
a mixture of guns and chiffon, hence the exhibition's title.
It turns out that another side of Countess Markievicz's
activities was writing a gardening column for `Bean na hEireann'.
She told readers to regard slugs as they would the English and
``remove them from the garden''.
The confidence and revolutionary instincts of Markievicz and
thousands of other Irish women shone through the intervening
years.
``I was just thinking there,'' said Mary Kennedy, ``as you were
talking about Countess Markiewicz being the first Minister for
Labour in the first Dáil - they were such remarkable women! We've
had to wait 79 years to get the first woman Tánaiste.''
Of course the British, who have jailed and tortured women
republicans down through the years, turned out to be quite
mild-mannered when compared with the new Free State
administration. Over 300 women were imprisoned in Kilmainham
during the Civil War, and were treated harshly.
When they got out, many felt alienated and displaced, as if the
clock had been turned back. They found it difficult to adjust to
the restrictive social and political life in the Free State, and
quite a number simply emigrated.
The rest of the show was not quite as uplifting.
It included a somewhat simpering interview with Will Carling, the
former English rugby player. Now, given the fact that Carling is
better known for his adulterous tryst with former princess Diana
Spencer than anything else, what might one imagine to be Mary
Kennedy's line of questioning?
Springing to mind: ``Is it true that she is so stupid that she
once pranged her own duck dog on a shooting trip?'' ``Are you sorry
now?'' ``Are you a monarchist or a republican?''
But oh no. He got to plug his new company, which offers hints on
inspirational leadership to the business community, and to answer
a whole lot of soft inquiries into how awful and intrusive the
tabloid press had been.
But the music was good, and live. There was the Barley Shakes,
giving a great lash to a traditional tune, then blending in some
modern instruments, then Tamalin (that's what it sounded like),
which was good too, then Frances Black, then Brendan Bowyer
singing a variation of `The Hucklebuck'.
There was also a nice item about the Cavan football team, Ulster
champions for the first time in 28 years. Jason Reilly, who
scored a super goal for them in the final (``It felt great!''), was
in the audience. So was Stephen King, a truly inspirational
captain.
As was Peter Donoghue, who won `man of the match' when Cavan last
won the all-Ireland final, against Kerry, in New York, in 1947.
All the people who played in that match, and are still alive, are
going back to New York, 50 years on, to watch a friendly match
this September.
By the way, the exhibition in Kilmainham continues until the end
of August.
By Michael Kennedy