Our céad míle fáilte looking like sick joke to immigrants

NEVER has the shamrock-drenched celebration of Irish identity that is St Patrick’s Day seemed so dishonest, or so exposed as a clever marketing ploy built on self-deceit, as this weekend when a forlorn parade of men walked, with their backpacks in place, their bedrolls under their oxters, from the foothills of the Dublin mountains towards their tent city at Mount Street in Dublin.

After being ferried by bus out of the city centre on St Patrick’s Eve in order – it was claimed by their allies in community services – to have the place look its best for the St Patrick’s festivities, over 200 asylum seekers were deposited in Crooksling, near Saggart, Co. Dublin. In an ironic twist on the meaning of St Patrick’s Day, they were then invited to pitch their tents anywhere they pleased on the mountain and enjoy their new sanitary facilities.

So much for the friendly Irish, our famous hospitality, the unique ability of two Irish people to immediately connect wherever they meet on the planet and all the other self-serving shibboleths that cast us as a country like none other on God’s green earth.

ON surveying their new home, many of the men simply turned around and headed back towards the city centre where, unbeknown to them, their makeshift camps – where hygiene conditions had severely deteriorated giving rise to illness and sanitary problems – had already been dismantled.

To these men, the orgy of self-congratulation taking place on the streets must have seemed like some sort of sick joke, and our famed national characteristics of kindness and warmth decidedly skin deep.

It is very convenient to blame the Government for removing the men from the meagre comforts and the easy familiarity which they acquired from their time living on the streets.

While the Taoiseach denies it had anything to do with tarting up the streets for the foreign cameras broadcasting from the parade, the truth is the Government is running out of options.

Had it bussed 200 asylum seekers to large parks like St Anne’s in Raheny on the city’s northside, or to Marlay Park in Rathfarnham on the southside, which are closer to shops, amenities and civilisation than a mountainside, there would have been outcry in these leafy suburban neighbourhoods.

A standoff between gardaí and protesters would erupt, following the same established pattern that occurs now whenever local communities are confronted with uninvited guests. Members of the far right would move in to mobilise and terrorise the locals, whose legitimate fears about their precious amenities going to pot and public safety put at risk by idle men hanging around would be whipped up to appear like a frenzy of hatred and racism.

Depositing asylum seekers in the back of beyond is cruel, but from the Government’s perspective, it cuts out the possibility of ugly scenes of anti-migrant prejudice in the city over St Patrick’s weekend, even if it appears that some protesters made it their business to travel to Crooksling to give a new and less charming meaning to the phrase ‘an Irish welcome’.

On an individual level, we could also do with some honest soulsearching as regards our selfimage as a big-hearted and loveable race who fully deserve, at this time of the year, the world turning green in our honour.

I admit that I did not for a second consider venturing into Mount Street or up to the Dublin mountains to offer a bed for the night or a comforting cup of tea to a single asylum seeker in the name of our glorious St Patrick.

If being Irish means being warm, and always having a welcoming word for strangers, then I am clearly a foreigner.

As a country, we distinguished ourselves by throwing open our doors to Ukrainian refugees.

At the end of last year more than 24,000 Ukrainians were living with host families or in empty homes and apartments pledged by the public, an immense show of solidarity with a war-torn country.

But economic migrants or asylum seekers – who don’t share our culture but who may come from the most hellish places on earth – don’t touch a chord with us in the same way.

As millions of people around the world are on the move, fleeing the effects of war, climate change and poverty, our rhetoric – with its emphasis on rising anti-migrant sentiment, a distrust of government and calls for tougher border controls – seems no different than that of any other country.

INDEED, the case for more controls and a realistic appraisal of how many newcomers we can decently support here seemed selfevident in the weekend’s presentation of our pathetic offering for asylum seekers.

Tragically, even the pittance we offer of a new tent and a bus trip to the mountains is superior to the squalor of these pour souls’ homelands, but it falls far short of what is acceptable in one of the wealthiest countries in Europe.

Yet until the housing crisis is resolved, the problem of accommodating new arrivals will continue. As of last Friday, according to the International Protection Accommodation Services (IPAS), there were 1,308 male asylum seekers ‘awaiting offers of accommodation’.

It’s also the case that while the numbers of refugees arriving through Dublin Airport have reduced since airport checks began, more refugees are arriving now over the border.

Time will tell what solutions emerge to the global phenomenon of rising migration.

The shameful events of St Patrick’s weekend suggest, however, that our famous warmth and hospitality will not be part of the answer.