PRESENT TENSE:'THERE IS, of course, no ending to history," Bertie Ahern told the joint Houses of Congress on Wednesday. History was a popular word in his speech, mentioned nine times. And history was a word commonly used in the run-up to his big moment. It would be, we were told repeatedly, an "historic" address. Afterwards, it was confirmed across the board that the Taoiseach had indeed "made history".
We'll come back to that later, because history was created elsewhere this week. At the Crucible theatre in Sheffield, in fact, where, according to several newspaper and radio reports, the English player Ali Carter "made history" by making this the first World Championships in which maximum 147 breaks have been scored twice in one tournament. "Made history," no less.
Yes, the name of Carter, Slayer of the Baize shall be uttered through the aeons.
In the media, history is made every day. Sometimes it is made several times a day. It is reported so much, in fact, that the term now holds as much value as a Zimbabwean tenner.
From a widely used wire report we recently learned that Formula One driver Robert Kubica "made history in the last race in Bahrain by grabbing pole position for BMW Sauber, ending the monopoly enjoyed by the two leading teams stretching back to 2006." The Daily Mail said that Tony Blair "made history" by being the first prime minister to be tieless in his official portrait. Within seconds of Chelsea defeating Liverpool on Wednesday night, George Hamilton was anticipating the "historic" all-English Champions League final. On Thursday's Morning Ireland, Tony O'Donoghue decreed that Giovanni Trapattoni's first press conference as Ireland manager would also be "historic".
Then again, sport, so brimming with hype and bombast, and so obsessed with rewriting record books, is particularly prone to deciding that even the most minor of achievements is of an historic magnitude. The Waterford News and Star recently told readers that: "Waterford IT made history by taking the men's silver team medals at the recent Irish Universities Cross-country Championships that took place in Loughrea, Galway." But that is nothing on the small loss of perspective that currently features in Welsh local paper, the Rhyl Journal: "Rhyl Rugby Club made history on Sunday by becoming the first non-English team to win the Holbro Colts North of England Under 17s cup final." The Rhyl Journal is no New York Times, but it is an example of how such histrionics are endemic in broadsheets and red-tops, national and local media, across the English-speaking world.
There are, on occasion, genuinely historic moments. Whoever wins the Democratic presidential race will have truly made history, in that they will be remembered for many, many years. Brian Cowen, by assuming the role of taoiseach, will automatically make history in a real sense, entering this country's annals in a meaningful way before he even takes on the task of shaping our future. When Tony Blair told a Belfast press pack that he "felt the hand of history" on his shoulder, it attracted a degree of derision, but at least he was justified. It's unlikely that he declared "I feel the hand of history on my collar button", when he removed his tie for the portrait sitting.
Below the obvious benchmarks, things become a little less certain. Was Bertie Ahern's speech truly historic? He addressed a half-filled chamber, so plenty of political representatives felt it was a moment of history they were happy to skip. The list of those who have also spoken to the joint Houses of Parliament may be a short one, but many have addressed the joint Houses of Congress, including five previous Irish leaders. John Bruton did it, although how many of you would recall either what he said or that he was even there in the first place? You could be kind and ascribe this trend towards the "historic" to a culture in which we are obsessed with lists and trivia and records. You could say that in the internet age, when Wikipedia chronicles everything from "toilet-related injuries" to "cuteness in Japanese culture", that history is being written, by ordinary people, on a small scale, every day.
Or could you say that at a time when the media and the public are attracted by hype, then making something "historic" adds instant importance, imbues disposable events with unwarranted permanence, skews perspective for the sake of revelling in the moment. But they should always first ask what they mean when they say "historic". Should it be something that every schoolchild would know, or is it good enough if it'll make a tricky question at the next Waterford IT table quiz? Surely, it should be up to the writers of history to judge if something is historic, and not a hack trying to spice up their copy.
So let's try and put a stop to this trend. And together, we can make history.
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