Irish Examiner view: Hold the gloating in an uncertain world

US president Donald Trump with White House special envoy Steve Witkoff. File picture: Evan Vucci/AP
Search engines will offer dozens of alternatives to that German phrase which describes the malicious enjoyment taken through the misfortunes of others. But nothing quite catches it like the original: Schadenfreude.
It’s a compound word which seems particularly appropriate for the gloating, social media-driven 21st century, although linguists will point out it has existed for at least 130 years, and perhaps longer.
It has been ubiquitous this week, as various storylines have emerged from the latest round of tariff bingo.
There are those who have wondered why so many countries have been able to get away with playing both ends against the middle when it comes to their purchase of cheaper Russian oil, while the rest of us take the hit for supporting Ukraine in our pockets and living standards.
China is one of those, but it doesn’t pretend to be in favour of Kyiv anyway. Turkey is another. So is Brazil, and the United Arab Emirates. Even some EU members remain enthusiastic consumers.
And then, of course, there is Narendra Modi’s India, the subject of US president Donald Trump’s ire this week. Before Vladimir Putin’s illegal invasion, India purchased about 68,000 barrels of oil per day. Last year, that had risen to 2.3m barrels, roughly 40% of its needs.
Indeed he has gone further, alleging that New Delhi is profiteering from sanctions avoidance.
On Truth Social, Mr Trump wrote: “India is not only buying massive amounts of Russian oil, they are then, for much of the oil purchased, selling it on the open market for big profits.
There is zero evidence that sanctions are impeding the Russian war effort — bear in mind that the EU has introduced 18 different packages to increase the pressure on Moscow — and the reality is that a significant proportion of the oil that India is purchasing, legitimately, at capped prices, is being refined there and then re-exported back to Europe.
While the relationship between Washington and the sub-continent may be regarded as collateral damage in the White House, such gestures must properly be viewed in Shakespearean terms as being “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing”.
It may well provide some mood music for Russia negotiator — and real estate developer — Steve Witkoff during his talks about talks with the Kremlin.
But for threats to carry real weight, they must include China, the principal purchaser of Russian oil. This is wholly unlikely to happen.
US imports from China are worth five times as much as those from India. Many of them are consumer goods such as toys, clothes, and electronics which will drive the inflation that Trump is pledged to suppress. The last time such stringent tariff threats were made, it presaged a suspension of trade between the world’s two largest economies, something which would herald an international commercial crisis.
Sitting here on the edge of Europe, Ireland might consider that a preoccupation with Ukraine will at least put the vexed subject of pharmaceutical tariffs on a longer finger. But this is cold comfort.
Attention may be elsewhere for now. But it will only be a short time before the basilisk stare turns back in this direction. And others might then be able to find some consolation in our own travails.
Many of our readers will be familiar with the work of Jessie Buckley, proud daughter of Killarney, and an actor whose progress has been reported in the pages of the Irish Examiner for more than two decades.

At a time when we are blessed with some of the world’s leading performers — Fiona Shaw, Ruth Nega, Denise Gough, Saoirse Ronan, and a host of others — there’s a sense that we are about to commence a year when Buckley might be elevated to the head of that pantheon in the public consciousness.
Certainly
thinks so, this week dedicating nearly 4,000 words of interview to her under the heading 'Jessie Buckley Goes Where Few Actresses Dare'. This in-depth profile is published ahead of her starring role this autumn in , based on the 2020 bestseller by the Irish writer Maggie O’Farrell.This account, already converted to a resoundingly successful stage play, is a fictional depiction of the life of William Shakespeare and his wife Agnes following the death from the plague of their 11-year-old son.
The Bard of Avon is portrayed by Ireland’s current go-to actor, Paul Mescal. Agnes is a herbalist who is reputed to be the daughter of a forest witch.
Buckley, says the
, has earned the reputation “for playing complicated roles with devastating power.”While there is plenty to digest in a complex profile there is a reference to provide inspiration for any parent. Brought up in a musical family which didn’t possess a TV, she would "play dress-up at home and act in school musicals”.
Being taken backstage by her mother after a local production of
was, she says, “the first time I saw the magic”. But not, thankfully, the last. For her, or for us.There was a moment in the final rugby Test between Australia and the Lions when the stadium fell silent. It wasn’t an observation of the normal courtesies which attend upon a penalty kicker’s attempt at conversion.
When more than 80,000 people are that quiet, it can be a cause for worry. In this case, it was the moments that followed the collision between the head of the doughty Ireland lock James Ryan and the knee of the Wallabies man-mountain Will Skelton.
Ryan was stretchered off and, as we now know, regained consciousness sufficiently to provide a thumbs-up as he left the pitch on a stretcher.
However, a match which produced three failed head injury assessments, plus that concussion, reignited the debate about the safety of high-impact sports such as rugby, boxing, Gaelic football, hurling, and NFL.
This was taken forward in the Irish Examiner when Colin Doherty, head of the School of Medicine in Trinity College Dublin and a neurologist with a special interest in the subject, challenged certain preconceptions about those who are criticised for worrying about what happens to athletes who suffer repeated blows during the natural course of their sport.
He wrote that he could hear the chorus of contact-sport supporters accusing him of wishing to ban contact sports or failing to see the important mental and physical benefits of taking part in sport.
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” he said.
“The charge that researchers like me are ultimately out to ban the sport is akin to saying that I want to ban driving because there are so many recorded deaths on the road.”
The paucity of the critics’ argument is such that it bears repetition. Calls for a proper, independently-funded research programme on risk — supported by mandatory screening for all players — seem reasonable.
Requiring all coaches at all levels to undergo training in concussion awareness is a sensible precaution. What is there to argue about?
In the case of the groundbreaking legal action involving more than 1,000 players from rugby league and rugby union, there seems to be plenty at dispute.
Last month, the judge presiding over the lawsuits said the solicitor acting on behalf of the claimants had been under a “misapprehension” about his responsibilities and that “he seems to have a problem with the English language”.
He also said that the firm involved had failed to disclose material to the defendants — World Rugby, the Rugby Football Union, the Welsh Rugby Union, and Rugby Football League.
Senior master Jeremy Cook, hearing that only a minority of the players have received a medical diagnosis, said there had been enough delay. The cases needed resolving, “and the sooner the better”.
That is true, but the full hearings are unlikely to commence before 2026.
There is no reason, in the meantime, for sport to delay an improvement in precautionary practices and protocols.