TV Review: Partition, 1921 — why there aren’t more statues of Cromwell around Ireland

And Bertie Ahern gives great telly

Michael Portillo meets with Gerry Adams for Partition, 1921

I was expecting more fireworks and even craic in Partition, 1921 (RTÉ One and RTÉ Player). The publicity photos showed Michael Portillo sitting down with Gerry Adams (for the first time apparently) and for some reason, I thought they might share some cracking banter. Portillo was elected to the House of Commons as a Tory MP after his predecessor was killed in the Brighton Bombing in 1984. 

As we know, Gerry Adams couldn’t possibly know anything about this because he was never in the IRA, but you’d imagine he must have heard some gossip in the pubs. So I was looking forward to seeing how they got on.

The documentary makers made us wait, keeping the Michael-Gerry chat until the end, except for a short insert early on to whet our appetite. Before that, it was all slick history documentary, with Michael talking to a bunch of earnest historians and the leader of the Orange Order. (He actually seemed quite nice.) 

I don’t want to trivialise centuries of misery, but this bit of the show was zero craic. It didn’t help that it made me feel like I was back learning history in 6th class, with the academics rolling out old skool phrases like ‘Ulster will fight and Ulster will be right’ and ‘Killing Home Rule with Kindness.’ I worried that these academics felt they could get away with repeating stuff that I learned when I was 10. But I suppose if this documentary is to be shown across the water, they need to pitch it to an audience who can’t understand why there aren’t more statues of Cromwell around Ireland.

Partition 1921: Michael Portillo and historian, Michael Laffan, at Kings Hall, Belfast

That said, Portillo is an excellent presenter. Michael owns one of those really nice English accents that make it sound like you’re having a pint of ale in a very old pub by a river in rural Berkshire. He also pronounces Ireland as something other than Eye-land, which is a bug-bear when you’re listening to the Brits.

I liked the way he stuck the knife into the machinations of the Tory party in the early 20th century. He admits that they stoked up Unionist anger in Northern Ireland for their own narrow political interests back in London, and suddenly Boris Johnson comes to mind, conjuring his makey-uppy sausage war with the EU for the audience back at home. History is like summer-time on telly, everything is a repeat.

Michael Portillo and Iain Carlisle, chief executive, of the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland at the Orange Museum in Belfast

Bertie Ahern makes an appearance. He gives great telly in fairness, particularly when talking about Irish history rather than dig-outs, but it was all a bit dry, himself and Portillo across a table in their dark suits, when they’re better known for bad anoraks and pink blazers.

Anyway, we finally get to Gerry meets Michael in the final part of the show. It’s amiable rather than explosive — two old soldiers looking back at the fight, Adams welcoming Portillo to his office and regretting that Covid meant they couldn’t shake hands.

I’m not sure I learned anything new from Partition, 1921. Except that borders are never a good idea.