16 April 1998 Edition
Removing the gum from Irish politics
By Eoghan Mac Cormaic
It was over Easter, as I repinned the Easter Lily to my lapel for the nth time, that I realised that what's fundamental with this revolution is tradition. We are what we wear, and rather than wearing our hearts on our sleeves, we - as a people, or as a movement - have become more and more given to the wearing of our heart on our lapels.
At Easter time the badge of identity is the lily, but it isn't just the lily, it's how the lily is attached that reveals how the wearer honours Ireland's patriot dead. Or determines which category of the patriot dead is being honoured. The politically conscious follower of fashion understands that the Lily should have a pin through it, to avoid shades of being sticky, and so the medium becomes the message. And not just any pin. It must be a straight pin. No safety pin, no discreet pin tucked in from behind the lapel, not a tiny gold pin. A simple, plain, silver pin. From the front.
The time was when a larger pin was in vogue, one with a large head on it, the type of pin you'd get stabbed with through a ticket on the trousers which you'd just had dry-cleaned especially for the Easter Commemoration. I can't remember when that pin gave way to the present pin but I'm sure we lost many members during the changeover. People who saw no transition between the two, no safety-pin measures, no pin-heads of agreement.
The real break in lily politics came of course with the peel and stick variety. That was a real split. Prior to that lilies were bigger, and had little tags at the top for the pin. They were a different design too from the present lily, and when the split came two new lilies were born. Horticulturists were amazed. Political scientists were baffled. Loyalties and affiliations were decided on the matter of gum versus pin. Nearly thirty years later the gum has almost been removed from Irish politics.
A lot of people also make statements with their lilies. Subtle design features and additions are tolerated, so long as the whole process of wearing the lily doesn't fall into anarchy. Republican anthropologists (as opposed to apologists) should note that lilies are sometimes deliberately worn upside down as the wearer makes his or her personal protest at something best understood by themselves. This act is in line with the habit of sticking stamps on letters upside down, the bane of the post office no doubt but sadly contributing little in the overall struggle for The Republic. Perhaps it's done to remind us that Ireland is still unfree or maybe to show that they are more patriotic than the rest of us and couldn't bear to sport a vertical lily while the FFers, and Stickies and IRSPs and every other shower are doing the same. Whatever the reason, it stands out. Other design features over the years have included the addition of weapons on the lilies, or other overprinted messages, but that fashion seems to have passed.
The most recent change in the lily occurred a few years ago when the lily became smaller and more streamlined. The modification caused just about as much furore as the streamlining of the shamrock on the Bord Fáilte logo. No doubt we lost members during that transition too with accusations of sell-out, and modernism and dare I say it, treachery.The new lily was unrecognisable, they said. And from shoeboxes and short-bread biscuit tins in attics and from under floorboards came the hoards of old lilies which had lain unsold in previous years to be worn in defiance of any attempts at foisting change. I'm telling you, tradition is a fundamental.
I thought of all this last week as I pinned - for the nth + one time - the lily to my lapel. Countless pinpricks on the suffering fabric have left my once proud wool collar looking like badly scuffed tweed, but I don't mind. I have it on good authority that next year's lily will have a velcro back.
It was over Easter, as I repinned the Easter Lily to my lapel for the nth time, that I realised that what's fundamental with this revolution is tradition. We are what we wear, and rather than wearing our hearts on our sleeves, we - as a people, or as a movement - have become more and more given to the wearing of our heart on our lapels.
At Easter time the badge of identity is the lily, but it isn't just the lily, it's how the lily is attached that reveals how the wearer honours Ireland's patriot dead. Or determines which category of the patriot dead is being honoured. The politically conscious follower of fashion understands that the Lily should have a pin through it, to avoid shades of being sticky, and so the medium becomes the message. And not just any pin. It must be a straight pin. No safety pin, no discreet pin tucked in from behind the lapel, not a tiny gold pin. A simple, plain, silver pin. From the front.
The time was when a larger pin was in vogue, one with a large head on it, the type of pin you'd get stabbed with through a ticket on the trousers which you'd just had dry-cleaned especially for the Easter Commemoration. I can't remember when that pin gave way to the present pin but I'm sure we lost many members during the changeover. People who saw no transition between the two, no safety-pin measures, no pin-heads of agreement.
The real break in lily politics came of course with the peel and stick variety. That was a real split. Prior to that lilies were bigger, and had little tags at the top for the pin. They were a different design too from the present lily, and when the split came two new lilies were born. Horticulturists were amazed. Political scientists were baffled. Loyalties and affiliations were decided on the matter of gum versus pin. Nearly thirty years later the gum has almost been removed from Irish politics.
A lot of people also make statements with their lilies. Subtle design features and additions are tolerated, so long as the whole process of wearing the lily doesn't fall into anarchy. Republican anthropologists (as opposed to apologists) should note that lilies are sometimes deliberately worn upside down as the wearer makes his or her personal protest at something best understood by themselves. This act is in line with the habit of sticking stamps on letters upside down, the bane of the post office no doubt but sadly contributing little in the overall struggle for The Republic. Perhaps it's done to remind us that Ireland is still unfree or maybe to show that they are more patriotic than the rest of us and couldn't bear to sport a vertical lily while the FFers, and Stickies and IRSPs and every other shower are doing the same. Whatever the reason, it stands out. Other design features over the years have included the addition of weapons on the lilies, or other overprinted messages, but that fashion seems to have passed.
The most recent change in the lily occurred a few years ago when the lily became smaller and more streamlined. The modification caused just about as much furore as the streamlining of the shamrock on the Bord Fáilte logo. No doubt we lost members during that transition too with accusations of sell-out, and modernism and dare I say it, treachery.The new lily was unrecognisable, they said. And from shoeboxes and short-bread biscuit tins in attics and from under floorboards came the hoards of old lilies which had lain unsold in previous years to be worn in defiance of any attempts at foisting change. I'm telling you, tradition is a fundamental.
I thought of all this last week as I pinned - for the nth + one time - the lily to my lapel. Countless pinpricks on the suffering fabric have left my once proud wool collar looking like badly scuffed tweed, but I don't mind. I have it on good authority that next year's lily will have a velcro back.