A New Life: Seán O Cuirreáin tells Lorna Siggins how he sees his role as the new Language Commissioner
Journalists and bureaucrats don't mix. It isn't that they are not the best of friends, but Seán O Cuirreáin knows he has crossed a divide in his new post as Coimisinéeir Teanga, the State's first Language Commissioner.
Unofficially "ombudsman for the Erse", O Cuirreáin (47) has taken up the position after 24 years in journalism. The former deputy head of RTÉ's Raidió na Gaeltachta in Casla, Connemara, will now be based in new offices down the road in Spiddal where he will oversee implementation of the Official Languages Act.
O Cuirreáin is no burnt-out hack looking for a quiet life. "Journalism has been very good to me," he says, recalling some of his experiences with the radio station. The Birmingham Six's first appeal, which they lost, the Tory defeat to Blair's New Labour, Gorbachev's return in Russia, and assignments in Brussels, Strasbourg and the US are among his most memorable "markings".
However, his first foray into broadcasting was as co-presenter of a children's programme, Alphabet, on RTÉ where he worked with producer John Quinn.
Originally from Oldtown, near Falcarragh and Gortahork in the Donegal Gaeltacht, O Cuirreáin studied Irish and geography at NUI, Galway.
Among his contemporaries at college were Eamon Gilmore of the Labour Party, Patsy McGarry of The Irish Times, Garry Hynes of Druid Theatre Company and Micheál O Cinnéide of the Marine Institute.
"UCG, as it was known then, was a much smaller, more intimate place, with only about 4,000 students," he says. On graduation, he went to Dublin to work as public relations officer with Comdháil Naisíunta na Gaeilge, the Irish language association which lobbies for increased status for Irish and the rights of Irish speakers.
"I was with the Comdháil for three years, and in a sense that gave me an inside track which will prove invaluable now." He is no fundamentalist, however. "Compulsory Irish never worked, it created ill feeling, and although I am in a job now where I have to police the use of Irish in the public service, I intend to take an approach based on co-operation and partnership."
After Alphabet came Trom agus Eadrom, where he worked with Liam O Murchu.
In 1979 he moved to Casla to work with Raidió na Gaeltachta, and settled in Indreabhan, just west of Spiddal, with his wife, Caitlin. The couple have a 12-year-old daughter, Sara.
He says he was both surprised and honoured when approached by Minister for Community, Rural and Gaeltacht Affairs, Mr O Cuiv, to become the State's first Language Commissioner.
"Did I agonise over it ? Not really, but I did give it a lot of thought," he says. "I was leaving a permanent, pensionable job for a six-year posting, albeit well paid. But it presented such a challenge. It is very rarely that one is offered a job never done before - and one where one can have an impact. A green field, if you like." And that field is located in a townland close to his heart.
"They have been talking about legislation for the last 20 years to try and ensure that Irish speakers could avail of State services through Irish. The last major attempt was in 1993 when Bord na Gaeilge made guidelines which were non-statutory. They were ignored.
"This State's first constitution, and the 1937 Constitution, afforded Irish the status of first official language. Yet various governments failed to back this up in practical terms."
The prejudice against the first language was not rife throughout the civil service, he points out - though it did, and still does, exist. "The Revenue Commissioners have unit 88, which is dedicated to using Irish and is staffed by Irish speakers.
"The gardaí are reasonably good, particularly in Gaeltacht areas. Certain county councils have bilingual forms. But where there is a poor service for Irish speakers, people just resort to English because it is too much of a battle for them otherwise."
O Cuirreáin's first public outing was at the biannual Tostal na Gaeilge in Galway earlier this month.
There, he heard several stories that distressed him. Stories about children born in the Gaeltacht to Irish-speaking families who could not get speech therapy as Gaeilge during those first crucial years; stories about native Irish speakers who suffered strokes, and found that therapy vital to their recovery was not available in Irish.
"This is why you still have young parents in Gaeltacht areas making a conscious decision to speak English to their young kids - because they are terrified that if the kids end up in hospital and ask for a 'deoch uisce' or a 'deoch bainne', no one will understand them."
O Cuirreáin notes that a new campaign has been initiated by Minister O Cuiv to encourage parents to bring up their children through Irish. "It is trying to say that children won't be disadvantaged, but we have to deliver on that promise."
The "promise" also means that people involved in court cases will have a right to deliver evidence as Gaeilge - again, a right not always delivered upon in practical terms.
O Cuirreáin knows that he may be coming near the end of his term when changes are evident. "The first year is going to be spent sifting through language plans which each Government Department is obliged to prepare. I see a gradual increase in the level of service. I suppose that if things could change overnight, this would have been done a long time ago."
The popularity of gaelscoileanna and TG4, the 24-hour service offered by Raidió na Gaeltachta, this newspaper's weekly Tuarascail and Beocheist, and the fact that he encountered more than 1,000 confident, articulate young Irish speakers at a recent Oireachtas festival in Tralee, Co Kerry, are all positive indicators for the language in O Cuirreáin's view. However, his brief is to identify, and demolish, the many obstacles to its long-term survival.
"I have been given certain statutory powers which would allow me to 'name and shame', and I am determined to ensure compliance. However, I think I will be treading softly - while carrying that big stick."