Republican News · Thursday 14 August 2003

Tawdry splendours of our new aristocrats

BY PAUL O'CONNOR

The Irish Taoiseach, who is usually happy to be photographed at a race of two flies up a wall, shunned the photographers because his image had been purchased by a British magazine

The 26-County state describes itself as a republic, but for the new elite enriched by the Celtic Tiger, it is a republic only in name. The Lord Rackrents and Squire Grindums of the past have been replaced by a new set of wannabe aristocrats. But instead of land-thieves and the sons of royal mistresses, our new aristocracy is recruited from talent contests, modelling agencies, reality TV shows and manufactured boy-bands. And along with the tawdry ostentation of the old aristocracy, they have joined a crass commercialism that is all their own.

Just as with the old aristocracy, talent is no requirement for entry into our new elite. You don't need any long list of achievements. You don't need to be intelligent, honest, or to have performed any great public service. It's only necessary to have got your photo in the paper enough times to qualify as a "celebrity". Appear at enough product launches or swanky parties, get your name in VIP magazine or the Sunday Independent's social diary - and suddenly you're "somebody". Make a complete fool of yourself on national television (or, better still, on a commercial British channel), and suddenly you're a star.

Nor is celebrity confined to the world of entertainment. These days, we have celebrity CEOs - businessmen who are paid a fortune not for their abilities, but for their reputations. And we have celebrity politicians, for whom style and image are more important than policy. Remember the last general election? It sometimes seemed as though Fianna Fáil had only one candidate - Bertie Ahern - and were running him in every constituency.

The manner in which the cult of celebrity has taken over in Ireland was illustrated by last weekend's wedding of Georgina Ahern and Nicky Byrne. All week, the papers had been in a tizzy. It was "Ireland's equivalent to a royal wedding" and "the social occasion of the year". As the details were chewed over in advance, fashion pundits solemnly offered their opinions as to what kind of dress the bride ought to wear.

Sedatives were reportedly being prescribed to social columnists, for whom it had all become too much. A pop idol and the Taoiseach's daughter! Even the political correspondents - usually a more stolid lot - lost the run of themselves and began speculating whether the "feelgood factor" from the wedding might boost Bertie's languishing popularity. The young couple were described as "Ireland's Posh and Becks" (Does Ireland need a Posh and Becks of its own? Surely one Posh and Becks is already more than enough?) One newspaper went so far as to call them "Ireland's First Couple".

Now pardon my ignorance, but I always thought the first couple were President McAleese and her husband. Nor was I aware that a Taoiseach's daughter and her boyfriend held any position under the constitution. However, it's quite possible I'm wrong, and if so, perhaps some reader better versed in constitutional law will be able to correct me.

Four hundred guests gathered at the luxurious Chateau d'Esclimont in France. No booze-up in a Dublin hotel for Georgina and Nicky. Why stay at home when you can take over an entire French village for the week? (And if the Irish tourist industry is depressed, to hell with it). All of which luxury cost an estimated €720,000 - enough to buy three starter homes for an ordinary young couple, even at the inflated prices charged by Bertie's builder pals - and more than many in this country will have earned over a lifetime at work. But the happy couple were not without a little help from their friends. From beer to jewellery, and whiskey to wild salmon, they were reported to have received €335,000 in freebies.

(Note to the reader - you may be under the impression that companies were lining up to donate their products for Georgina Ahern's wedding because her father is Taoiseach. This is a complete falsehood. The gifts sprang from the habitual generosity of corporate Ireland. Next time you have a wedding in your own family, ring up Newbridge Silverware and no doubt you too will receive a set of expensive trinkets absolutely free).

Not many couples in Ireland could afford to spend €720,000 on a wedding. But how many couples could spend €720,000 and still return a healthy profit on the whole transaction? With earnings of €850,000 from their exclusive deal with Hello!, Nicky and Georgina did just that. If only the bride's father would show the same skill in his management of the economy...

For this, of course, was not primarily a wedding at all. It was a commercial transaction, an expertly crafted product sold in advance to the highest bidder. Which might not matter so much, if part of the product were not the Irish Taoiseach - or if the media had not spent the week encouraging us to admire and look up to the people involved.

The deal itself was bad enough. But it was the precautions taken by the couple to fulfil their half of the bargain with Hello! that showed it in its full sordidness. On Friday, Irish journalists were kicked and threatened by English goons imported by Hello! magazine as they tried to photograph the wedding rehearsal. Meanwhile, the Taoiseach personally intervened to have two journalists who had booked themselves into the Chateau d'Esclimont removed from the hotel, threatening that his entire party would leave if the journalists were not thrown out.

On Saturday - as a heavy security presence took over the entire centre of Gallardon from the town's own residents - the wedding party arrived in blacked-out limousines, and were driven under canvas tents connected by tunnels to the church. It would seem that the Ahern family, like the emperors of old Japan, are too sacred even to be looked upon by their subjects... or those of France.

All this, let us remember - the heavy-handed security, the repeated snubbing of the public - was not to protect the wedding guests from any danger. It was not to guard people's lives. It was not even to guard their privacy - since every detail of the wedding was to be splashed over the pages of Hello! It was to protect the value of the property - the Ahern wedding - which the British magazine had bought.

All of which would hardly matter, if the elected head of the 26-County government hadn't been part of the deal, or if the media had not presented the participants to us in advance as objects of admiration. But Bertie was a key part of the package paid for by Hello! The Irish Taoiseach, who is usually happy to be photographed at a race of two flies up a wall, shunned the photographers because his image had been purchased by a British magazine. And what are we to take from the press's billing of this affair as Ireland's answer to "a royal wedding", except that Georgina Ahern and Nicky Byrne are somehow a cut above the rest of us, people to be looked up to and whom we would imitate if we only could?

Celebrity Ireland was on display at the Ahern wedding - the celebrity Ireland of manufactured pop-bands and the social pages, Westlife and Girls Aloud, presided over by the Celebrity Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern. And it was anything but a pretty sight. Is there anything to be admired in this display of ostentatious wealth and elitist arrogance? Are these the people we want as our icons, as role models for our children? Are they the best that Ireland can produce today? Do they embody the values around which we want to build our society? Are Georgina Ahern and Nicky Byrne really Ireland's First Couple?

If they are, we need to take a long, hard look at the kind of society we have become.