Fergus Finlay: Some Irish politicians refuse to applaud a man fighting for his life

We know, or we suspect, that one of Putin’s objectives right now is to see Zelenskyy killed, writes Fergus Finlay.

Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy in his office in Kyiv, on April 9.  Picture: Evgeniy Maloletka/AP

Every Sunday evening, I lock myself into a little shed in our small garden and devote myself to the ineffable privilege of writing down my humble thoughts for your edification. I know you’re waiting, agog, for Tuesday’s Irish Examiner to land. So nothing can distract me from that duty.

Except big sport on the telly. A lot of other stuff I can record and watch when duty is done, but big sport must be watched live. I can’t bear that business of ignoring the news, living in a world of silence in case you inadvertently hear the score you’ve been waiting for.

So tonight (it’s Sunday night as I am writing this) I’m not out in my shed. I’m in a corner of the sitting room, one eye firmly fixed on the telly in the other corner, waiting for the Masters to unfold.

Will Rory pull off a great miracle, tear the course apart and post a score to worry the others? Or will Shane put in one of those unforgettable rounds, like the wonderful third round he played when he won the British Open, and pull off one of the great achievements of sport? Will my hopes be dashed or, who knows, maybe not?

Rory McIlroy reacts after holing out from the bunker for a birdie during the final round at the US  Masters on Sunday, April 10. Picture: Matt Slocum/AP.

Isn’t that the beauty of sport — the answers don’t matter as much as the questions. Week after week, sport tells great stories.

The four hours of the Masters on Sunday night, the 20 minutes of the Grand National on Saturday, the 80 minutes of a titanic Munster struggle also on Saturday — I find myself endlessly enthralled by people doing things they have no right to do.

And even by things they’re learning to do. One of the highlights of my weekend was watching my grandson Mikey play very spirited rugby for the Tullow U9s. He just never gave up.

I’m all the more impressed by these feats because I could never do them. 

I was an awful rugby player. They put me in the second row because I could push, but apart from that, I lumbered around the field and fell over a lot.

And golf! Once in a blue moon I hit the ball the way I intend to, but as often as not I’m a lost soul on a golf course. I love it still, but my dream of playing on the Senior Tour alongside Bernhard Langer and Tom Watson is one of my best kept secrets.

I know you’ll tell me that staying up half the night to watch people playing a rich man’s game on the other side of the Atlantic just proves how shallow and superficial I am. Guilty as charged, your honour.

Well, actually no. I’m going to mount a defence.

I spend a lot of my life worrying about the state of the world.

I try as hard as I can, in whatever way I can, to make a bit of a difference wherever I can. I fail a lot, but I’ve often said, here and in other places, that the phrase that means most to me is one uttered by Jim Larkin nearly a hundred years ago.

His motivation, and you could see it in his tempestuous life, was the burning desire to close the gap between what ought to be and what is.

That burning desire often made him angry, and I’m sorry to say my own version of it makes me angry too. Not all the time, but maybe too often.

Take this week. There’s a war going on — a vicious, cruel war, started and perpetrated by a dictator named Putin. We’ve seen overwhelming evidence of inhuman atrocities. I was corrected by a friend the other day when I described some of the things that had been reported as animalistic.

“Animals never do that sort of thing to each other,” my friend said. “Only entirely depraved human beings do.”

The fight against the dictator is being led by Volodymyr Zelenskyy. He’s a 44-year-old man, catapulted into world fame — and history — by the invasion of his country. I doubt if he was prepared for anything that has happened since the day he was elected. And I doubt that he is superhuman.

Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy speaks from Kyiv, Ukraine, on April 10. Picture: Ukrainian Presidential Press Office via AP

He’s just a man, who seems quite clearly to have decided to give up a flourishing career on television to try to make a difference. He is the democratically elected leader of his country, a country with a very chequered history, that includes a lot of political corruption, among other things. He might have served only one term for all we know.

Now the entire world knows his name. We know, or we suspect, that one of Putin’s objectives right now is to see Zelenskyy killed. So the leader of Ukraine is not just fighting for his country; he’s fighting for his life.

Last week, he addressed our parliament. He told us what he needed to tell us and peppered his speech with things we like to hear about ourselves. But mostly he asked for help. He’s done that at every opportunity, on every stage he can get.

Watch LIVE coverage now of the Joint Sitting of Dáil & Seanad Éireann as the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, addresses both Houses - view on Twitter, Facebook & on the #OireachtasTV channel #seeforyourselfhttps://t.co/q7cBqPIhjo https://t.co/tIhXupzTv9

— Houses of the Oireachtas - Tithe an Oireachtais (@OireachtasNews) April 6, 2022

He may be risking his life every time he appears in public, but we have a few politicians who know better than him.

If Volodymyr Zelenskyy thinks they’re going to make a show of themselves by joining in a standing ovation, he has another think coming. Sure that would only be encouraging him, wouldn’t it (as my late mother used to say)?

I have a friend who has knocked around politics for years. He always refers to the People Before Profit crowd as “the last of the summer whine”. 

PBP-Solidarity TD Richard Boyd Barrett with protestors at a demonstration organised by People Before Profit-Solidarity outside Leinster House calling for Ireland to remain neutral in the Russian Ukraine conflict. Picture: Leah Farrell / RollingNews.ie

I get exactly what he means. The Foggy, Compo, and Clegg of Irish politics spend all their time whinging and moaning about the gap between what ought to be and what is. But you’ll never find them actually taking a risk to do anything about it. Life is always someone else’s fault.

That's what enables them to listen to a man who lives every day with the knowledge that his life is in mortal danger, and decide it would be wrong to clap when he’s finished.

And their excuses: They didn’t care for the mention of Nato, and they worry about the impact of sanctions on ordinary Russians. (Sanctions are the fault of the West, apparently, not the war criminal.)

At the risk of mixing up my TV shows, the last of the summer whine crowd appear to be terrified at being upstaged by the Statler and Waldorf of Irish politics, or Clare Daly and Mick Wallace as they like to call themselves. 

Statler and Waldorf of 'The Muppet Show'.

That pair have now taken to heckling from a luxury box. Everyone else is wrong, they continuously bleat. Only we understand what’s going on.

Their carry-on is dangerous and dishonest, especially in the sophistry of their language. But it’s also hilarious and pathetic. 

You look at an ordinary man who is fighting to save his country, and you don’t have to agree with everything he stands for and asks for. But you do have to think — aren’t the Ukrainians lucky they don’t have Mick Wallace leading them?