REMARKS BY PRESIDENT MCALEESE AT THE CLOSING SESSION OF THE SEMINAR
REMARKS BY PRESIDENT MCALEESE AT THE CLOSING SESSION OF THE SEMINAR ON ‘REFUGE IN IRELAND: CAUSES, EXPERIENCES, RESPONSES’
Tá gliondar orm bheith anseo libh inniu agus ba mhaith liom mo bhuíochas a chur in iúl dibh as an chuireadh agus as fáilte caoin agus croiúil.
It is a great pleasure for me to join you here today at the close of this important seminar on Refuge in Ireland. I would like to warmly congratulate the Kimmage Mission Institute of Theology and Cultures, and the Development Studies Centre for organising such a timely and thought-provoking initiative. My thanks in particular to Fr Tom Whelan for his very kind invitation to speak to you today.
It is particularly appropriate that we should be gathered here today on the 8th of December, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and traditionally regarded as the start of preparations for the feast of Christmas. And of course this year, historically accurate or not, we are celebrating two thousand years since the birth of Christ, that most famous refugee of all. The Bible tells us little about the experience of the Holy Family in Egypt when they were forced to flee the persecution of Herod. But we can be certain that world history might have taken a very different course had a deportation policy been in place. Indeed the entire Judeo-Christian tradition is marked by the experience of exile, of being strangers in a foreign land. In Leviticus, God told the Hebrews that ‘the stranger who sojourns with you shall be as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the Land of Egypt.’ Those words have a very modern ring in present-day Ireland, as we reflect on our own history as a people for whom exile was so often the norm, and our future as a nation to whom other exiles look for refuge.
There is an invitation on the Statue of Liberty which reads ‘give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free’. And we did, we gave ours in their millions. Now some of the world’s tired and poor make their weary way to our door. What invitation are we willing to offer them, these new strangers in our midst?
The poet Pearse Hutchinson has written ... "Labhraim le stráinséirí, creidim gur chóir bheith ag labhairt le stráinséirí": ‘I speak with strangers, I believe that it's right to be speaking with strangers. That idea of inclusiveness, of welcoming and speaking with the stráinséar, is a vital part of who we have been as a people, of how we have perceived ourselves. It is why we have an international reputation for warmth, for friendliness, for caring - and we cherish that reputation.
Yet the truth of the matter is that we have found it easy to welcome the stranger, because so often he or she did not pose a challenge to our own sense of ourselves, our culture, our social structure, our economy. We have a long and proud history of providing money, missionaries, aid-workers to parts of the world afflicted by war, famine and human misery. We have also welcomed warmly and generously, refugees from countries such as Vietnam, and in more recent times, Bosnia and Kosovo. We are capable of such generosity – why then is there now such apparent or alleged fear of recent inflows of refugees?
Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that, until now, we have been able to choose the extent and nature of that generosity. It has not impacted on the everyday lives of most of our people, on our cities, our streets, our schools, our policies, our culture. We have remained largely cocooned from the challenges and opportunities of a multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-racial society – until now. Not being a well-off country, we did not seem attractive to economic migrants or even significant numbers of political refugees hoping to start again. We have not been historically known as a country for making fresh starts. We have had few problems in accommodating diversity, because there has been relatively little diversity to accommodate. Now a changed and rapidly changing Ireland has to deal with the challenges, the crises, the conundrums and the obligations greater prosperity carries in the same bag as its manifest benefits.
Those who have long been a culturally diverse and poor part of our story, the travelling community could tell a tale or two about our record of commitment to social inclusion, our respect for each one of God’s creation. Our record to date has left significant room for improvement.
There is a certain sad irony in the fact that we have lived for so long on this island with the tragic proof of where mistrust, fear, hatred and contempt for difference inevitably leads. We have seen how easy it is for different communities to exist cheek-by-jowl for generations, with an utter lack of understanding and respect for each other’s hopes, dreams and expectations. We have witnessed how difficult it is for the toxin of hatred and prejudice, once established, to be rooted out and replaced with a respectful understanding, tolerance and appreciation of the other. Our history of emigration has taught us about the prejudices of others. Weren’t we angry when we heard of those signs “No Irish need apply”? Weren’t we broken hearted when our own emigrants met with anti-Irishness, with contempt, with second and third class treatment as they did all over the world? Do we as a people really need any more lessons in the sheer indecency of bigotry and bias? We, above all people, surely can have nothing left to learn about the sheer scandalous injustice of mistreating or neglecting any man, woman or child because of their race, their religion, their politics, their poor circumstances. Our own direct experience has shown us that given half a chance our poorest worked hard, build up new countries, and through their children and grandchildren brought great credit to Ireland. And not just credit but when we had no economic hope, it was their pennies and dimes kept us going, their political clout which helped to bring us finally, peace.
As we celebrate the extraordinary, momentous developments in Northern Ireland in recent weeks, it is worth reflecting on the factors that have made this peace, this progress possible. It could not have happened if there had not been people on each side who were willing to listen to the other - to their stories, perceptions, fears and expectations. To overcome the myths, prejudices and labeling that had been handed down as unshakeable truths. To listen and to slowly grow in understanding and trust, to build causeways of respect between those different traditions. And in building those bridges, they learned also, often to their surprise, not only how much they had in common, but also the awesome power that can be gathered when different traditions embrace each other widely and warmly.
That journey towards joyful acceptance is still incomplete. But there are lessons we can learn from it in considering how best to respond to our new-found status as a country of immigration. As this seminar has very clearly highlighted, those issues are complex and multidimensional, with wide-ranging legal, cultural and social implications. We need to have a greater understanding – and to create a greater level of public understanding – of the circumstances in the home countries of refugees which give rise to migration and of the lessons, positive and negative, which other countries have learned from their experience.
But it is embracing the human dimension of immigration that gives rise to the greatest challenge and the greatest opportunities. That means learning to see refugees as fellow/sister human beings, as individuals each with their own story to tell. They are people who arrive here often frightened, lonely, bereft of possessions, perhaps unable to understand the language – sharing, in many respects, the experience of millions of our own ancestors. In saying that, the solution is not to romanticise them, but neither is it to demonise them, holding them responsible for every ill in our society.
As we stand on the brink of this New Millennium, the decisions we take now will lay the cornerstone for the shape of our future society. We enter that Millennium with a level of prosperity that previous generations could only have dreamed of. But, as Yeats told us, in dreams come responsibility. Assuming that responsibility requires us to use well and generously the opportunities we now have, to use them to create a humanly decent and inclusive society – for refugee and native alike.
And as we celebrate this unique birthday of the Child of Bethlehem, it is worth recalling that he came above all to the marginalised, the disinherited and the excluded. The message he brought was one of hope, one of love, without preconditions. The greatest gift we can give Him, and each other, as we approach this anniversary, is to listen afresh to that message, to build the simplest and most enduring of all bridges, the one created by two hands which makes friends of strangers.
I would like to warmly congratulate everyone who has taken part in this Seminar, and to thank you for this opportunity to join you here today.
Go raibh maith agaibh.