The traveller was the father of a friend and close neighbour of mine, and when we had been introduced his first words were “I once had lunch with President de Valera.” I would have replied “You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din” which I’m sure he would have enjoyed, for not only was he fluent in many languages, and learned in many literatures, but he also possessed a keen sense of humour. Instead I said that Dev was a very controversial figure in Ireland. His reply was that de Valera was admired around the world.
My new friend had been a journalist, an ambassador, press officer,parliamentarian,and nation-builder. He had translated Condition Humaine by Andre Malraux into his mother tongue and ha been a friend of Malraux. He had translated Ottoman poetry into verse in his mother tongue and had a UNESCO prize for it. He had been at the UN when Khruschev banged his shoe and Freddie Boland broke his gavel. And after his lunch with Dev, when he was a press officer for his own President, hed’d gone out on the town with Noel Lemass, son of Sean. I learned about Noel Lemass from his own lips, and the rest from his son-in-law, for he had a modest air about him, rather like that of Nelson Mandela. He had once been press secretary to the Aga Khan, and his daughter had sat in the lap of Rita Hayworth when the star was married to Ali Khan.
My new friend was a Moslem, educated by Irish Catholic priests and had sent his two daughters to a Convent. I don’t know whether he ever did the Haj, but when in London he religiously visited Mecca. That was before Paddy Power had his bookie shops here. And when he visited, I always bought a bottle of Paddy.
When the Americans were arming Muslim extremists in Afghanistan he concluded they were mad. And later American adventures appalled him.
He died a few years ago. Ar dheis De go raibh a anam uasal.
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