A sword is a strange thing. Swung in anger, it becomes a killing weapon. Wielded by the brave, it can cut the knot of ignorance. In the hands of the needy, it may be exchanged for life itself. A few days ago in Kildare, a busload of people gathered on the edge of the Curragh to strike out across the turf for the start of Afri's Feile Bride 2000 celebration. With a gale roaring among the bare trees - and not a snowdrop in sight - the walkers made their way towards one of the gallops. "Mind the horses, now. Keep out of their way," they were told. "They're highly-strung thoroughbreds."
But there were no horses, only a sorry bunch of people in raqs - playing the part of the refugees of the Irish Famine - making their slow way across the wet grass, feet bound by sacking and straw, thin shawls flapping in the cruel wind. Waiting for them was their saviour, the female pagan trinity - reincarnated as St Brigid who, according to legend, presented a group of impoverished peasants with her father's sword. A weapon of war, as she knew, is useless to the hungry, so she advised them to trade it for something far better: food.
International issues
The walkers then moved on to the square in Kildare town, where the annual Brigid flame was kindled by Flamura, a young asylum-seeker from Kosovo, one of 250 who have found shelter in Kildare. Working in tandem, Afri and the Brigidine nuns of Kildare have never shied away from the major international issues of the day: militarism, poverty, oppression and homelessness - themes dominating the Afri conference which followed the pageant. At the opening ceremony, Joe Murray, director of Afri, had spoken of the early strategic significance of this ancient town: its position on a height commanding the plain, its holy well; now its Army garrison, was proud home to soldiers who have served in so many places throughout the world as UN peace-keepers.
Throughout the events of the day, Brigid's sword stood upright on a table in the De La Salle School, its bright blade reflecting the light of the candles surrounding it, a potent symbol of what happens when people empower themselves.
Speaking later in the day was a man perfectly suited to walk the corridors of UN power. Wearing a navy wool pinstripe suit, blue shirt with button-down collar, muted yellow tie, black slip-ons decorated with gold trim (augmented by some Curragh mud) and carrying an impressive briefcase, Denis J. Halliday seemed the epitome of an international bureaucrat - which indeed he was until 1998 when, increasingly dismayed by the undemocratic structure of the UN and by the punitive effects of the Security Council sanctions against Iraq, he resigned his post. He had served the UN for 34 years, first as a young Irish Quaker volunteer in Africa, later as Assistant Secretary General, and most recently as its Humanitarian Co-ordinator for Iraq.
Chemical warfare
Now he travels the world telling the story as he sees it. "The big powers think because they created Saddam Hussein, they can destroy him," he said. "And he's the perfect enemy: he makes all the right mistakes." Speaking of the chemical warfare waged by the Iraqi regime against the Kurds, Halliday reminded us of America's scorched earth policy in Vietnam; of Iraq's nuclear capacity - made possible by France; of the seeds for the biological warfare bought from a Maryland laboratory, sanctioned by the US Commerce Department. "Where is our courage?" he asked. "Why don't we speak up? Are we too close to London? To Washington? Why don't we tell our elected representatives what we want them to do? This is a democracy. They are our representatives."
Someone who has spoken up is Tom Hyland, who recounted the difficulties he experienced during the East Timor campaign. When, in 1992, he and some of his group went to the Australian Embassy to discuss the plight of the beleaguered East Timorese, the Ambassador replied: "What do you think a group of ill-educated, emotional people like you can do? Go home and forget about it." They declined to take his advice, which was lucky both for the East Timorese and for democracy.
And at the Feile Bride gathering, there were, as usual, plenty of pro-democracy campaign groups representing West Papua, El Salvador, East Timor and the Ogoni people - the last celebrating the news that the bodies of Ken SaroWiwa and his eight companions are to be exhumed and given honourable burials, nearly five years they were hanged on the orders of the then Nigerian military regime.
Changing scenario
Those hangings took place during that country's darkest days; but the political scenario everywhere is constantly changing, as the conference was reminded by an Arts student at UCD, Julia Fox, who spoke of the challenges her generation faces compared with those of previous ones. She was speaking in reply to John Maguire, author of Defending Peace, who presented an analysis of the Partnership for Peace debate, prompting the thought that the Curragh could soon by the domain not only of horses but of NATO troops.
But it was Halliday's statistics that stuck in the mind. Deaths of Iraqi babies and toddlers due to preventable causes such as dehydration, diarrhoea and chronic malnutrition: 131 per 1,000. Equivalent figures for Ireland: six per 1,000. Overall, 1 million unnecessary Iraqi deaths since 1990. A country brought to its knees while Ireland says nothing or too little. It was, as someone remarked, time to forge that sword into a ploughshare.