Ireland, its history, music and literature (particularly James Joyce) has long interested Brian McNerney. His first of many visits was in 1996, but it was only after Donald Trump’s first election that he seriously started thinking about living here. Last summer, aged 62, he moved from Austin, Texas, to Dublin for a PhD in history at Trinity College. Plus, it was “an alibi for getting out of the US at a particularly dangerous and fraught time”.
His back story’s interesting: a US army officer for 26 years, including three tours in Iraq, 10 years in Europe, and eight as a public affairs officer. When he felt “more intellectually aligned with journalists I met than my fellow officers, I knew it was time to go”. After a master’s in information studies, he became an archivist at the Lyndon Baines Johnson Presidential Library and Museum. His Trinity PhD is in American political history, specifically the Kennedy-Johnson-Nixon period.
His heritage is Irish; his ancestors had left near Bushmills, Co Antrim, in about 1811 for Glasgow, then Ontario, reaching the US in 1866. His “worst fears were realised” with Trump’s re-election, “now my move here appears prescient and wise”, and he feels “more comfortable on this side of the Atlantic than there, where the neurosis is exhausting and sadly not much hope looking ahead. But we will see.”
Back in Austin, “a bubble” in a very conservative state, “considered the blueberry in the bowl of ketchup”, he made friends at the Irish consulate. Having visited Ireland many times, he felt very comfortable in Dublin city and knew what to expect. What strikes him most is “the cosmopolitanism of the city, the racial diversity, the influx of people from all over”.
He relishes the ease of getting places from his rented apartment in north inner-city Dublin. “It’s a very walkable city, portable. I feel like I really know Dublin now.” He likes walking through “what I would call small Chinatown” on Parnell street. Passing the GPO, seeing a soup kitchen at a national monument “surprised me. But maybe that’s the right place to have it. The services are there, that’s the point”. Seeing protests, “that outpouring on the street, people feeling that showing up and marching makes a difference”, he says – “democratically, it’s a positive sign”.
He doesn’t feel unsafe: “It’s a matter of common sense. Have your wits about you. Don’t be stupid. I don’t put myself in situations. People talk a lot about drug use, homelessness, vagrancy. I see them. But it’s not nearly as acute as in Austin.”
Ireland is “a country of exceptional literary achievement, disproportionate to its size”. Four Nobel Prize winners for literature, plus Joyce, “probably the heavyweight of them all. This country has a very keen sense of its literary and artistic culture, and the role of the Abbey Theatre. This is so un-American. There the idea of having a ferry named after a writer is just unthinkable.” McNerney says he makes a point of getting to know people in all walks of life, and “what I find is people are very educated, knowledgeable. Generally, they’ve read. A lot avoid Joyce because he’s very difficult, but they know their national mythology, their national history”. He describes going to Irish theatre as being like “little peeks into how the Irish see themselves”.
Moving here has been like “looking at a country that has blasted into a very uncertain future”, making generally hugely positive decisions, though not entirely. “There have been bumps in the road. It has not been all champagne and roses.” There have been “hardships and wrong choices along the way. The financial crisis. A severe housing problem. This is probably the most serious problem I see here right now”. Sorting it is critical to Ireland’s future, he says.
Housing prices are comparable to Austin, and not having a car has saved him money, but he found it “incredibly difficult to find anywhere to rent. It was the most difficult thing I had to overcome. It came down to the wire”. Over 150 emails responding to Daft.ie ads elicited a single reply, followed by a fraud warning about the reply. “How do you do this if nobody answers?”
If I want to start a conversation, people will immediately engage. I think that’s something in the Irish character
He’s only met one Irish Trump supporter; mainly here, it’s the other way. He recalls out on a hike one day, a man with a dog coming over unprompted to ask: ‘What the f**k are you people thinking?’ For McNerney, “this is a very gut-wrenching moment as an American, watching my country self-immolate”.
Deciding to retire from the job he loved, as presidential library archivist, was “rooted in a sincere apprehension. I feel like we Americans are simply abandoning our responsibility to maintain a democracy. There is a rightward drift around the world”, he says, but he’s heartened the far right in Ireland won such a tiny portion of the vote in last year’s elections..
He notes a self-critical strain here, including criticism of public transport or healthcare. But it’s relative; in most of the US “there’s no commitment to public services”, and he foresees it worsening. He’s impressed alcohol is banned on trains, and smoking isn’t allowed indoors, but is surprised at the continued prevalence of smoking, including by young people. “I’m like, did you not get the memo?”
He’s “a big believer in the importance of newspapers and journalism”, observing a crisis in the role of the free press in the US, and a lack of reliable public information. “People have become ignorant, siloed.” He’s heartened by media freedom here and “the daily conversation. I find people informed.”
He has found people to be “very open, inviting and generous. If I want to start a conversation, people will immediately engage. I think that’s something in the Irish character.” Even the Irish pro-Trumper was “vey nice, voluble, talkative”. One thing he’s been surprised by is witnessing couples having public altercations here. “I’m talking about full volume, screaming, yelling, very, very rough language. Clearly, we are unhappy with each other, and we’re going to have it out right here for the whole world to see. It’s almost comic in a way. It reveals a different tension. Who knows what their actual struggles are?”
His wife Sarah and three adult children and four grandchildren are back in Austin; his oldest daughter and her children spent Christmas and new year with him, travelling in Ireland and Britain. The family is “all looking at moving abroad, maybe Canada, maybe elsewhere. Ireland is a top destination for me, Ireland is a hospitable land, an inviting land.”
He joked to a friend that he’ll “campaign to have the Statue of Liberty move to Ireland, to Dublin Port, because the Irish are a welcoming people. We aren’t. We don’t deserve it right now. So many Irish came to America as immigrants.” He notes many Chinese and Indian immigrants, and “conversations I’ve had with Brazilians are very interesting. You picked up your life from South America, and moved yourself. To me, that’s an amazing journey. Only Ireland has this work-study programme. And the word has gotten around.”
We would like to hear from people who have moved to Ireland. To get involved, email newtotheparish@irishtimes.com.
