MOST ambassadors come to Dublin, hardly get to know anybody outside the diplomatic circuit, and maybe with a huge sigh of relief, after a while return to the real world of important embassies in important countries with big armies and fat economies. Others come here with a desire to know Ireland and the Irish, and by so doing deepen the bonds of friendship in a unique way,
Such men or women are rare, Perhaps the public service anywhere attracts ambitious people for whom Dublin is an irritating obstacle to bigger and better postings in Madrid, Paris, Bonn, Washington. Although we like to flatter ourselves on what a vibrant city Dublin is, by the standards of most large capitals it is, as one American diplomat memorably put it, small potatoes. We are irritatingly unpunctual; our public services are often deplorable; our streets are uniquely littered. At times we must be hard to like, never mind love.
Ancestor at Boyne
C. Ulrik Haxthausen managed to do both. He came to Ireland five years ago and rapidly became an engaged and engaging scholar in our history, our politics, our failings. He was not the first Haxthausen to grace these shores - an ancestor fought as a mercenary in the Battle of the Boyne, and that involvement recently enabled Ulrik to indulge his pawky sense of humour.
Noting that certain people, in public life had been demanding an apology from the British for the Famine, he told a private dinner that he thought the time had come for him to set the record straight. He was unaware of what his kinsman might have done when a soldiering in Ireland all those years ago, but it was possible that everything was not quite tickety boo. There had been problems with his, soldiers discipline at one point. Possibly one might have stolen a chicken or two, it was all very worrying. Whatever the truth, he wanted everyone to know that he apologised, unreservedly for whatever inconvenience his ancestor might have caused.
Apology accepted. The written word cannot convey the boyish mischief which lit the Ambassador's face, or the look of innocent bemusement as he embarked on his little intellectual odysseys, through the characteristics of Ireland and the Irish people. He had a huge sense of fun, which could be directed at himself or the Danes quite as much as his hosts, whom he befriended widely and well.
Celebrating Difference
C. Ulrik had that marvellous quality which enabled him to make fun of a people, jestingly but gently, without causing offence. Difference fascinated him. He relished it, and relished poring over it, almost the way one would a fine wine. To be different was, in his canon, not something to be criticised but celebrated; and when he made a little fun of our pomposities or our inconsistencies, he did do so with much kindliness and a wry self mockery which forfended offence.
He had an elegant sense of the absurd, but beneath his a fable humour, and his gentle indulgence, he was a fiercely honest man. When I wrote on flatteringly last year about Denmark, he complimented me for telling the truth about a particular issue. Being an Ambassador for him did not mean dealing in untruths, but instead, coming to terms with truth and no people, no persons, are without sin or stain. The Danes are cut from the same imperfect, cloth which went into the making of all mankind. He did not object to my reminding people of this truth.
Highest Office Denied
He came to Ireland towards the end of a career which had taken him to some of the most important, postings within the Danish diplomatic service. His first foreign posting was as first secretary at the embassy in Paris, and later he, was first secretary and consul in London. In 1973, he became economic counsellor in the Danish Embassy in Washington.
Logically, it looked as if the highest ambassadorial offices of all were open to him. But he was not a married man; and perhaps in those days and maybe, God help us, even today an ambassador has to be married to achieve high rank. So though he was awarded an ambassadorship, it was not one his personality and his intellect deserved,
But he would have served his country and enriched friendships where his duties called him; for three years he was ambassador to a clutch of Central American countries. Many of his peers would have looked dawn on such a posting. He did; not. He was indefatigable in his; search for the new, the different, the strange, the odd. He did not judge but enjoyed; he never spoke without listening too.
World Bank Post
Perhaps bachelorhood was the reason why his next appointment was to the World Bank. I only know of this because it is in his curriculum vitae - he certainly never mentioned it to me, it is hard to imagine him enjoying the company of World Bankers.
Later he was executive secretary on something called the CSCE Conference on the Human Dimension which sounds so worthily Scandinavian that I sorry I never heard; him speak about it. His softly mordant sense of humour no doubt derived a great deal of pleasure from anything so pompously titled as Conference on the Human Dimension.
He came here five years ago, and rapidly endeared himself to a large circle of admiring friends. He knew about Ireland, the Irish, our history and our ways; and he hosted eclectically gathered dinner parties at delightful home outside Bray, with which he fell deeply in love.
Cancer Crisis
Last year, he was diagnosed as having cancer of the mouth. His terror was understandable; yet the treatment was swift and effective and this year he was pronounced one hundred percent clear. He and his companion, Jean Pierre, had good reason to look, forward to a long and happy retirement together.
They were together last week when Ulrich had a stroke; and were together a couple of days later when he died. Jean Pierre lost his closest, dearest companion; Denmark lost an excellent public servant; and Ireland has lost one of our closest ambassadorial friends.