The story of racism used to be a story in which the Irish were heroes. Labelled as dirty, lazy, feckless or whatever, Irish people converted the prejudice against them into a victory of principle, made real by the cultural and economic power so many acquired. Irish immigrants in the UK or US might have wanted respectability, but they wanted jobs and housing first. They wanted a chance in the public world. Lace curtains could come later.
Nothing so painfully underlines the Irish loss of the high moral ground as the growth of racism, not against us but by us. That awful turning of the wheel makes hollow the persistent belief that for some reason, often a Godly one, the Irish knew what it was to hurt. The hurts inflicted against us are now being inflicted on others. This week, the Minister for Justice, Mr O'Donoghue, invited us to wonder why.
The easy reasons are because of fear, competition among the more vulnerable for scarce resources and a lack of understanding about how everyone can differ. But the deeper diagnosis echoes an old Jewish proverb whose challenge is uncomfortable: "The fish stinks from the head". If true, then the kind of education and self-examination soon to be targeted at children and in ordinary communities won't lastingly address the problem unless heads of state, heads of institutions and those who lead their professional and business communities ask themselves what they are doing, or can do, to change the way the society is heading.
People nit-pick policies in Ireland, and one widespread excuse for not listening is that your motives are political. Political motives are discredited. Thus, if a leader such as Ruairi Quinn criticises the asylum and immigration policies of Bertie Ahern, his words can be discounted because it is assumed he has no better reason than his own party's gain.
Other times, motives aren't listened to because they are economic, or religious, or, least transparently of all, stemming from so-called "liberal" values, which is a nebulous platform no one has ever completely defined. In this way, almost any opposition to dominant policies and practices can have its edge wiped clean of any lasting bite.
Leadership has been offered by diverse people and interests. In fact, rarely has a single issue attracted a working consensus from such varied sources. Leadership on asylum and immigration matters continues to show itself in the words and deeds of people ranging from the Catholic bishops, leading stockbrokers and members of the business community, as well as from special interest groups. But the Government has not listened.
It is in that context that John O'Donoghue's remarks about racism must be assessed. For as long as the issue has existed, the Minister and in particular his officials, who after all serve on a lifelong basis and are not subject to the ballot box, have fought against any call to change. Procrastination in introducing legislation and services has spawned racist fears and contributed to the backlash against all foreigners.
Delays in properly administering and managing asylum-seekers and refugees enabled the Government to turn public opinion away from that of a 1997 poll, which showed more than two-thirds would not tolerate tougher measures against them.
By August 2000 the Supreme Court had introduced a distinction between the rights of Irish citizens and the rights of other people. Tougher measures will inevitably follow.
The legal implications of moving towards a definition of rights deriving from citizenship instead of common humanity will keep academics and lawyers busy for years to come. But the message sent across the community is abundantly clear.
As Carol Coulter, this paper's Legal Affairs Correspondent, commented at the time, the ruling reversed previous interpretation "that human rights derive from people's innate rights as human beings, rather than from specific constitutional entitlements".
Had the Department and Government prioritised its programme of legislation differently, the outcome might not have been the same. What legislation was introduced began not with rights-based laws, however, but with laws to restrict and evict certain classes of immigrants. For that reason, Ireland still has not ratified the UN Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, or incorporated the European Convention on Human Rights into its body of legislation, despite repeated promises.
Government officials this year freely advertised their concern that some 1,000 people a month would arrive seeking asylum. Their figures were widely quoted, and came to be taken as fact, although the numbers were not reached.
Support was generated against the creation of what were opaquely called "pull factors", despite the trumpeting of Ireland's need for workers on a world stage. Instead, the real message was to "push". Push them out, push them away, push them somewhere else.
The terms "swamped", "illegal immigrants" and "bogus asylum-seekers" were downloaded into public discourse by the Minister himself, thereby confirming them as key catch-phrases. The perception created by Government and its agencies followed a cycle whose "bogus sponger get out" message is now being taken by people on the streets to illegal but weirdly logical conclusions.
Open a valve of exclusion and wellsprings gush forth in places you never foresaw. If the old proverb has any truth, then its message must be heard in Merrion Street, St Stephen's Green and on Pembroke Road before it filters down to other places. The stink is apparent: the question is whether those at the head are aware.
mruane@irish-times.ie