That venerable periodical, The Economist, long the most influential economic weekly in Europe and matrix of the theories of Bagehot and Crowther, has a quaint and not uncongenial way of ranking our island among the seven wonders of the ancient world - albeit not without a show of surprise. Looking at a recent issue in which the lead story is "Europe's Shining Light", with a glowing Ireland stationed like a beacon over the sombre waters of the Atlantic, one is reminded of the Pharos of Alexandria, whose flame illuminated the other extremity of the known world in ancient days. One remembers, too, the last occasion on which we received such a tongue-in-cheek compliment, when the allusion was to the Colossus at Rhodes. At the beginning of the Sixties, reviewing the activity of the Irish delegation to the General Assembly of the United Nations, The Economist averred that "Ireland bestrides the world like a Colossus!" Brushing aside the cynical thought that such praise may have its price, what was there in that activity to earn us these laurels?
Though almost half a century has gone by, Dr Skelly's book is nevertheless timely, coming soon after the 50th anniversary of the UN, the 40th anniversary of Ireland's membership, and the appointment of President Mary Robinson as UN High Commissioner for Human Rights. Moreover, Dr Skelly, a young graduate of Notre Dame and a PhD of University College Dublin, is the first scholar to analyse in depth the source material now available in the National Archives, which he has used to build upon the pioneering work of Professors Patrick Keatinge, Dermot Keogh and others. He demonstrates, with admirable clarity and insight, the origins of Irish foreign policy in the UN theatre, the directions which it took under successive governments and how it sought to advance the national interest by helping to promote a higher moral order in international relations. The respect in which Ireland was held at the UN came from her independent stance and a series of bold initiatives designed among other things to protect the interests of smaller countries, reduce tensions, defend human rights, mediate disputes, prevent the proliferation of nuclear weapons and help to make and keep peace in a troubled world.
This is a landmark academic work and, as President Robinson remarks in her foreword, a welcome addition to the study of Irish diplomacy and, indeed, to the study of modern Irish history. But the lay person will be glad to hear that it is also very readable, due to the clarity of the author's style, his focus on the personalities in his fascinating story and the way in which each of them sought to influence events. Here is Frank Aiken, with his devotion to de Valera and the republican ideal, whose foreign policy could be summed up in one word: independence; Freddie Boland, the consummate diplomat respected by friend and foe, who could - and did - reduce the mighty of the earth to compliant silence; Con Cremin, shrewd, famous for detail, nuance and loyalty, as brilliant as Boland and a professional to his fingertips. And the great Conor Cruise O'Brien, whose influence with Aiken led to many of the achievements of those years.
ALTHOUGH that influence waned as Sean Lemass shifted the focus to Europe, and the Congo marked the climax of an extraordinary chapter in Irish history, we have a right to be proud of the contribution made by this team to world order, and therefore to Irish interests. They served our country well.
Even a work of this quality is rarely without a flaw or two. They are of little consequence and I shall mention only that Dr Skelly, working at high speed and compressing so much material into a limited text, was ensnared by the popular misconception that it was in calling Nikita Khrushchev to order that Freddie Boland broke his presidential gavel. In fact the object of the presidential ire was Eduard Mezincescu, the Romanian foreign minister, who foolishly attempted to back up Khrushchev's scurrilous attack on Secretary-General Hammarskjold and was tactless enough to accuse the president of lack of objectivity. As for Khrushchev, who had suffered no greater indignity than to have his microphone cut off and to be left talking to himself, he not only made a point of complimenting Freddie on his objectivity but sent him around a case of Georgian wine.
I can recommend this splendid book to anyone with an intelligent interest in the history of Irish foreign policy. Any young person contemplating a diplomatic career ought to find it particularly rewarding. Meanwhile, Dr Skelly and the Irish Academic Press have done us a considerable service.
Tadhg O'Sullivan was counsellor of theIrish mission to the UN from 1961 to 1967 and was later ambassador in Washington, Moscow and Paris, among other capitals