- Opinion
- 24 Mar 01
Monica McWilliams of the Women's Coalition says that Northern Irish society is "immature" and that this can be put down to the domination of politics and public life by people of the male persuasion. Something to that effect. I'm told John Hume is livid.
Monica McWilliams of the Women's Coalition says that Northern Irish society is "immature" and that this can be put down to the domination of politics and public life by people of the male persuasion. Something to that effect. I'm told John Hume is livid.
John's views, like John himself, carry weight these days. He's the most highly-regarded political operator around and doesn't take kindly to any Jenny-come-lately rubbishing the efforts he's put in over the years. Immature indeed!
It must be especially irksome at the moment for John to have to listen to nay-saying of this sort. This is his time of triumph. Small wonder the cameras cut to John in the King's Hall on May 23rd immediately after the Northern Ireland Electoral Officer Pat Bradley announced a resounding 71.12% "Yes!" vote to the Agreement.
That reminds me that John and Pat Bradley had a disagreement during the last all-Northern Ireland count - for the Euro election of '94.
This disagreement arose after John had nipped out for global television interviews and come back to discover fewer bundles of votes on his table than there'd been previously. Fraud! he shouted, momentarily fearful that the bad old days of chicanery and subterfuge had returned. Gerrymandering!
Heads turned, jaws dropped, hearts leapt towards throats. Eager hacks espied scandal.
It took all Mark Durkan's powers of emollient phrase-making to calm John's frenzied tantrum. What had happened was that in his absence Pat Bradley had instructed counting staff to amalgamate 500-vote bundles into 1,000-vote bundles, beginning with John's table. But they hadn't yet started on Paisley's. Hence the disparity in the numbers of vote-bundles.
Nervous serenity reestablished, the count continued.
Some time later, as candidates and senior aides drifted and hovered around the hall, Bradley eased himself alongside Durkan and wondered what had ailed John. Tense time, explained Mark, on edge, jumped to conclusion . . .
"I was in the same class at St. Columb's," confided Bradley, "and he was useless at counting even then . . ."
But John was happy with the counting then in progress. He finished a mere two thousand adrift of perennial poll-topper Paisley. As candidates and close associates lined up on stage for Pat Bradley's formal announcement, he side-mouthed to Mark: "Saw you talking to Bradley . . . did you know we were in the same class at St. Columb's?"
"Aye, he said."
"What were you talking about?"
"He said maths wasn't your subject".
Minutes passed as Bradley intoned the totals for each of the dozen candidates. John waited for a pause, then spoke again. If there's ever a rerun on television you'll notice the animated exchanges between the pair, just stage left and slightly behind Returning Officer Bradley.
"Hmmp!" observed John at last, "I bet he didn't tell you we all used to call him goofy."
Thus do great men mark the pivotal moments in our history. What would the wet-behind-the-ears McWilliams woman know about it?