Brian brings all Europe to Tullamore, whatever about Bush blunder

It was the day Europe came to Tullamore. Posters for a "Eurofest" called on the citizenry to rejoice

It was the day Europe came to Tullamore. Posters for a "Eurofest" called on the citizenry to rejoice. "Let's celebrate the arrival of the European Foreign Ministers" was the call. "Bar extension in all bars." No trace here of the new puritanism sweeping the land, writes Deaglán de Bréadún

"Live Irish music and craic," the Euro-dignitaries were promised. All along Columcille Street, aka William Street, the Town Council had displayed the flags of the member-states.

Authoritative sources said the last big event with a European flavour in Tullamore was a row at the local barracks in the 18th century, when some German mercenaries tragically fought to the death for the affections of a local lass. The lovelorn Hessians are remembered with a plaque in Kilcruttin Cemetery.

On a lighter note, maybe Brian Cowen will now use the election slogan: "I didn't promise you the world, but I brought you Europe." This was the Minister's big day but he was not in a jovial mood. Labour's Michael D. Higgins and Sinn Féin's Aengus Ó Snodaigh had jeered him as weak-kneed and flabby and he didn't like it one bit.

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The full text of his statement on this week's White House policy shift showed he had a point, but the opening paragraph welcoming Bush's "reaffirmation" of the road map exposed him to the charge of grovelling.

In the words of that wise old diplomat, Talleyrand, it was worse than a crime, it was a blunder.

Tents for the media horde were set up in the grounds of Coláiste Choilm. Classrooms looked as if they had been evacuated just in time. A map on the wall was dated 1982 but it brought home how much Europe had changed in such a short time: Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia remained intact and the Baltic states were still under the sway of the Russians.

All changed, changed utterly. George Dubya's démarche on the Middle East cast a shadow over the proceedings. Cowen insisted the road map was still viable but most observers felt it was leading nowhere. The sun was shining and Michael D. was making hay.

Then there was the vexed question of Iraq. The US-led operation seemed to be going pear-shaped with the Americans reportedly crawling, cap in hand, back to the UN. Europe, of course, was expected to swallow hard and do the decent thing.

The troubles of the world seemed very far away as the good folk of Tullamore pottered about in the local shops and hostelries.

But discussions here could have far-reaching consequences for far-flung places. What to do about Kosovo, for example: if the ethnic Albanians got a state of their own, would they be beastly to the local Serbs? And would the Serbs in Bosnia insist on hiving off their own state as a result? Feeling stressed by these weighty issues, no doubt, a French woman journalist lit up a cigarette. It caused a minor sensation and she quickly stubbed it out. This may be Cowen country but Micheál Martin's writ also runs in Tullamore.