Top o’ the world, Ma. By 3pm, the skies had cleared and Simon Harris stood on the observatory deck of the Empire State Building, surveying the daunting span of the city on a date when the tip of the Manhattan landmark turns green at nightfall. Listen hard and you can hear the bagpipe dirges drift up from the canyons.
St Patrick’s Day in New York is a strange, unique day, caught between two worlds. As Tánaiste, Harris observed both. Mass and marching in the morning: a hard business warning, delivered from the clouds, in the afternoon.
“You have been hearing a lot about this in recent days because we are very proud,” Harris said, “that our relatively small country from a population point of view has helped to create so much money, so much investment in the United States and similarly the United States has played such a positive role in our economy.
“Tomorrow I won’t just be engaging with the companies in a traditional sense, I want to get their insight into where they see the lay of the land. And I’ll take those insights back to Dublin and bring a memo to Cabinet on Wednesday updating the Government on trade policy. I’ve got to be very honest with the Irish people. I believe we are entering into a turbulent period of time.”
The day started early. The New York parade organisers might well have imported the weather straight from Belmullet or Gweedore. The squally morning didn’t cheer up much; a damp and mild and classically soft day. Tough work for the marchers kitted out in Aran jumpers, for the hundreds or pipers and the litany of county associations who strolled up Fifth Avenue behind their ornate banners.
The first ever parade, held in 1762, was conceived as a tonic for homesick Irish, some of whom were serving the British army stationed in the local colonies. Now, 263 years on, it has changed little in spirit. While the parades in Dublin and throughout Ireland have moved towards the spirit of carnival, New York has always been a solemn procession. No floats. Nothing flippant. Just a long, long, proclamation of the Irish presence in the city, under the awnings of the more gilded sections of Fifth, up past Central Park towards 79th.
The parade went past Trump Tower where flags proclaiming the ethos of the 47th president – ‘Trump Won Trifecta’; ‘Fight, Fight, Fight’; ‘Trump or Death’ 1776-2024’ fluttered and reminded participants in the city’s oldest parade that the New World is hurtling into an unpredictable future.
But one of the reasons that the Taoiseach received such a warm welcome in the White House a week ago is that Trump is keenly aware of his burgeoning popularity in the 40 million strong (and historically active) Irish American vote. He was the first Republican since Ronald Reagan to win the Irish vote last November.
And on Ireland’s national day, he received Conor McGregor, the Irish MMA figure, despite the judgment in last November’s High Court civil case that he had raped Nikita Hand in Dublin. Offered the chance to speak from the podium in the press room, McGregor railed against his vision of Ireland in 2025.
“Our government has long since abandoned the voices of the people of Ireland. It is high time that America is made aware of what is going on in Ireland. What is going on in Ireland is a travesty.”
Taoiseach Micheál Martin condemned the remarks on social media as “wrong”.
In New York, Harris remained sanguine about McGregor’s unexpected parachuting into the national day. But the fact that it is the disgraced fighter who has president Trump’s attention on Ireland’s national day will underline Harris’s message about volatile times ahead.
All of that could wait. St Patrick’s Day in New York is suspended outside the passing of real time. It’s probably at its truest with razor-cold gusts whipping up the avenues and snow on the sidewalks. But in mood it doesn’t change. And there is something preposterous about the command one small island has on this city, if for a day.
In song and sentiment, Ireland and the US remain as close as ever even if the political mood is shifting by the week. As he stood on the 86th floor on 350 Fifth Avenue, Harris persisted with a positive note.
“As I keep on saying, as Europe keeps on saying, as my counterparts keep on saying, every disagreement ends with agreement.”
Except when it doesn’t.
