THE LAST STRAW/Frank McNally: On foot of a recent column about learning Irish, I received an e-mail from a puzzled student of the language in California. Why is it, asks Bill Casey, that Irish uses the same word for "French person" as it does for "rat"? He adds: "Is this relevant to current US foreign policy?"
I'll come back to US foreign policy in a moment. But first I should say that Bill is Professor of Aqueous Geochemistry at the University of California and, despite his surname and his familiarity with deep water, he has no good reason to be meddling with Irish.
His studies are strictly voluntary, unlike the rest of us, who were conscripted at birth. He reads it as a relaxing hobby, he says: "I can't understand a word of spoken Irish." I mention this because even for professionals, like Irish Times Irish editor, Pól Ó Muirí, the language is a minefield. When I consulted Pól on the French-rat issue, he cited the example of "gasúr", a word which generally means "boy", but in Connemara means "child". So when a Galway man once asked him if he had family, Pól replied that, yes, he had "a child and two daughters".
But getting back to Bill's point. It's true: the Irish word "Francach" (upper-case) does indeed refer to a two-legged resident of France, while "francach" (lower case) refers to a four-legged former resident of a sinking ship. And just to complicate the issue, francach (lower case) is used as an adjective, meaning French, in the Irish for "turkey". Thus "turkey hen" is "cearc fhrancach".
The context usually gives a clue to the sense, but potential for major confusion exists. Among the many tourist attractions in Paris, for example, are the city sewers, of which guided tours are available. In the surreal world of Irish, therefore, you could be offered a tour of these sewers by a rat. Which is the sort of thing that could put you off your turkey.
Why French people should be associated with rodents is a mystery. My Irish dictionary is as silent as the letter "s" in Jacques Chirac on the issue, and encyclopaedias don't help either. There are two main rat groups, as everybody knows: the black rat (Rattus rattus), Asian in origin, and the brown rat (Rattus Norvegicus), attributed to Norway. Nothing about France there, anywhere.
I thought I'd found a clue in Brewer's Dictionary, when it notes that in ancient times, rats symbolised wisdom "because they always choose the best bread". This is something the French insist on too, but it hardly closes the case. Incidentally, Brewer's also points out that, while desertion of a sinking ship suggests panic, rats were believed by sailors to disembark from an ill-fated vessel before it even left port. This would imply great foresight, although if it were true, Lloyd's Insurance would have been onto it years ago.
On a not unrelated subject, the phrase "French leave" - meaning to depart (a job, a sinking ship, etc) without asking permission - is one of many attempts by the English to insult their neighbours. These insults have traditionally come back across the Channel by return ferry, so that, for example, the French translation of "to take French leave" is "s'en aller à l'anglaise". But it's worth noting that in centuries of English insults, the French have never been called anything worse than "frogs".
It's probably as well that French, and not Irish, is the international language of diplomacy. Donegal Irish is a possible exception to this point, because I'm told it translates "rat" as "big mouse," which is the sort of thing that diplomats get paid for. But however you look at it, the francach issue is, as Bill says, "not very flattering to the French, who have been quite good to Ireland".
I'm surprised the matter wasn't raised during our negotiations for entry to the EEC. Indeed, it's still not too late for Giscard d'Estaing to include a clause in the draft EU constitution - e.g. Article 94 (1): "No member state shall refer to citizens of another member in terms interchangeable with rodents, except perhaps during heated, late-night talks." Anyway, to deal with Bill's question about whether this issue has relevance for current US foreign policy. Well, some historians might argue that, while the French have been good to Ireland over the centuries, our frequent invitations to them to invade and depose the English often met with tardy responses. The initiative was frequently lost because of an apparent attitude that if the English were given more time, they might disarm peacefully.
On the other hand, and leaving the morality of the current crisis aside, I'd be a bit worried if the war on terrorism sets sail for the gulf, and the French are not on board.