Patriotic pride but also regret as past and present merge at GPO ceremony

You wondered what the old ghosts would have made of it all as Easter 1916 was recalled

THE RELAXED crowd on O’Connell Street was a colourful mix of short sleeves and shades, children with melting ice creams and cameras raised aloft by sun-burned arms.

It didn’t look like a sombre commemoration ceremony. But, despite the balmy afternoon sun, there was no mistaking the pall over the proceedings.

The Easter 1916 ceremony should be a blast of patriotic pride. Instead, there were wincing reminders of a nation that has lost its economic sovereignty, and moments of regret as people wondered whatever happened to the ideals of the founding fathers.

Naval lieutenant Paul O’Brien read out the Proclamation on the steps of the GPO, doing his best to inject gravitas into the announcement. “We declare the right of the people of Ireland to the ownership of Ireland, and to the unfettered control of Irish destinies, to be sovereign and indefeasible,” he boomed.

“... In every generation the Irish people have asserted their right to national freedom and sovereignty... we pledge our lives and the lives of our comrades-in-arms to the cause of its freedom, of its welfare and of its exaltation among the nations.”

You wondered what the old ghosts would have made of it all.

In the circumstances, it seemed fitting that this was a small, low-key commemoration. Unlike the triumphant ceremonies of years gone by, there was no parade of tanks, gun carriages or armoured vehicles (and, mercifully, no VIP viewing stand or gum-chewing security guards).

In total, a couple of hundred members of the Defence Forces stood outside the GPO, looking resplendent with their white gloves and gleaming rifles.

The crowd – about 3,000 in all, and relatively small compared to other years – looked on as the dignitaries arrived in an array of luxury cars.

Minister for Defence Alan Shatter arrived in a gleaming black Audi, followed by Lord Mayor of Dublin Gerry Breen in a large black Mercedes.

“Hide your car!” shouted an onlooker as the vehicle drove off.

There was watery applause for Taoiseach Enda Kenny as he arrived in another Merc, though the biggest round of applause was reserved for President Mary McAleese as she swept up O’Connell Street amid a 30-strong motorbike escort, pursued by a BMW.

If there was some sneering, it faded away quickly as the ceremony got under way.

Leading prayers of remembrance, Army chaplain Msgr Eoin Thynne prayed people would stand firm against the threat of terrorism. “May we learn from the past and never again let our love of prosperity quench our fortitude, realising that more is not necessarily better.”

There were poignant moments too, such as the flag being lowered to half mast, the sounding of the Last Post and seeing elderly UN veterans raise their hands to salute fallen comrades.

Later, President McAleese laid a wreath at the steps of the GPO, and the Army band led a rendition of the national anthem, which concluded with a fly-past by four small Air Corps aircraft overhead.

In the end, it was all over after just three quarters of an hour.

Afterwards, at a function in the GPO, relatives of the 1916 leaders and former members of the Defence Forces discussed the significance of the day. They spoke with regret, rather than rancour, and hoped the country would be in a better state when the 100th anniversary of the Rising is commemorated in 2016.

Nial Ring’s grandfather fought in the Rising as part of the GPO garrison, and his granduncle was involved in translating the national anthem into Irish.

“I feel disappointed when I think back of my father and his father, and the generation that made this country what it was. Now, in the space of 10 years, look what we’ve done. We’ve gone backwards ... the British must be laughing at us saying, ‘we’ve left them on their own and look at them now’.”

Ciaran Forde and his sister Áine were thinking of their father, Seán, who was involved in the attack on the magazine fort in the Phoenix Park in 1916.

“The movement wasn’t overtly socialist by any means, but there was a belief we could do things ourselves and make things happen,” said Ciaran. “And there were a lot of successes. But I think he’d be horrified to see what’s happened now.”

Mr Kenny lingered afterwards, speaking with relatives of those involved in the Rising. He has spoken in the past about Ireland again taking charge of its destiny, and you sensed it was weighing on his mind. It was his 60th birthday, he said, so he has always been acutely aware of the significance of the date of the Rising. “This is also the date, I think, that Tom Crean left Elephant Island bound for South Georgia with his crew and Shackleton,” said the Taoiseach, surrounded by a large crowd of people looking to shake his hand. “They made it through. I hope we do as well.”