of mice and muslims

Coffee with Giovanna in the Croissanterie cafe at the Stephens Green Centre.

The lovely mid afternoon burble of youth and old age.

The cafe cacaphones with life.

My conversation is scintillating.

"Someone rang the house claiming to be the son of a former ambassador to America," I told her. "He was complaining about an obituary I wrote on the blog. I've no way of knowing if it really was Padraic MacKernan's son. You know the article I mean. The one where I said that people who style themselves humanists really mean that they are atheists. The one where I warned that senior civil servants in Ireland often hold positions of exponential power for decades while our elected politicians come and go. The one were I said that this ambassador chappy who had represented us for so many years wasn't really representative of us and that most Irish people had never even suspected his existence till we read what a wonderful fellow he had been in the craven adulatory obituaries of the Irish Times and the Irish Independent."

"I remember your article," said Giovanna. "I didn't agree with it. I am a humanist and an atheist. I wonder do you think I couldn't be an ambassador?"

There was a pulse in the universe.

"I think you would struggle to genuinely represent my viewpoint about anything," I shot back.

"So would you object to the appointment of a Buddhist or a Sikh or a Muslim as ambassador?" she challenged.

I considered her question.

She'd included Muslims.

Gotta love dem Muslims.

Them and their peaceloving religion of Islam. And their great undrawable prophet Muhammed. And their Holy Qurans which you must never, I mean never, flush down the khazie no matter how much you're tempted.

Would I object to a Buddhist or a Sikh or a Muslim as Irish ambassador to the United States or to France or to the European Union, all positions which MacKernan himself held before being appointed something called Secretary General of the Department of Foreign Affairs.

"I mightn't object to a Buddhist or a Sikh or a Muslim serving as Irish ambassador," I told her quietly. "As long as there was transparency in the appointment. As long as people knew who they were. As long as the Buddhist or the Sikh or the Muslim had stood before some sort of confirmation committee composed of our elected representatives. As long as there had been a public confirmation process and not one held behind closed doors. As long as the Buddhist or Sikh or Muslim was able to explain just why he thought he could represent Catholic people. As long as he was able to answer that question himself as to how and why he could properly represent Irish people in the chambers of world power... As long as he could say... I've lived in Ireland for many years. I am blessed to be able to call myself Irish. Citizenship of this country is a privilege not a right. I understand the 2000 year history of the Catholic Church. I understand that Ireland and its culture would not exist without the Catholic Church. I deeply respect and esteem Irish people's refusal to collude in abortion culture. I love this people and their Christian traditions. Their respect for the person. Their upholding of liberty. If they wish me to serve them overseas as their ambassador I will be honoured to do so. And if they do not wish me to serve in this manner, I will be still proud as an Irishman to serve our greater good any way I can."

"You'd accept a Muslim ambassador if he said those things?" wondered Giovanna.

I flashed my famous fleeting grin.

"Accept him?" quoth me. "I'd vote for him for President."