Tag Archives: music

Useless and dangerous: Eurovision and the NUJ’s obsession with Israel

I wrote this for the Irish Independent recently, reposting it here after Eurovision itself…

The Eurovision Song Contest – that magnificently mad cavalcade of camp, daftness, sentimentality and unabashed good vibes – has been part of Ireland’s cultural tapestry since inception. We love it, hate it, love to hate it…but always watch it.

The 2026 iteration runs from Tuesday to Saturday in Vienna. However, despite it being the 70th anniversary, and our standing (still, somehow) as joint-highest winners, this year’s competition won’t be watched here – or at least, not on our public broadcaster.

Ireland is boycotting Eurovision, in protest at Israel’s involvement. Four other nations are also boycotting the contest itself, but we – ever-determined to signal our moral superiority to everyone else – went further, not even airing it on telly. (Slovenia has since done the same.)

I keep saying “Ireland” and “we”, as if this is some collective decision taken by the people. But of course, it’s nothing like that. RTÉ have decided, on our behalf, to boycott Eurovision.

To be specific, National Union of Journalists (NUJ) members: Montrose management make the final call, but this has been driven by union foot-stamping. Indeed it gets worse: NUJ head office told me last year that it wasn’t the union per se, but the RTÉ branch, calling for Israel’s removal.

So you have a tiny sub-sub-section (RTÉ) of a sub-section (NUJ) of a section (journalists/media) of the population, choosing whether the public can watch Eurovision on a channel they own – and are legally obliged to pay for. The same public who in the previous two years gave their first and second televote preferences to Israel.

Not so much the tail wagging the dog, then, as the fleas on the end of the tail.

Last May I wrote to the union, objecting to their partisanship on Israel/Gaza, after they’d shared a one-sided ICTU flyer. I said Ireland should be neutral, and ultimately didn’t see what any of this had to do with the NUJ, whose purpose is to represent the interests of Irish and UK journalists – not stick its oar in on very complex situations thousands of miles away.

The fact that they tried to get a young woman, Yuval Raphael, kicked out of Eurovision last year – who survived Hamas’ mass rape, torture and murder of October 2023 by hiding under friends’ corpses for eight hours – was, pardon the pun, the most tone-deaf thing I’d ever encountered. 

I asked for Irish secretary Seamus Dooley to respond, though without much hope, as I was still waiting on a promised call from February about an unrelated matter.

The office – not him – replied that they “just send on the information” from ICTU. I said by sharing something, you’re implicitly endorsing it. Also, I couldn’t remember the NUJ ever expressing support of Israel’s right to self-defence, or sympathy after horrors like October 7th: even when actual Irish citizens (Kim Damti and Emily Hand) were killed or kidnapped.

Three months later, I’d heard nada. I wrote again: “I naively thought the NUJ was a union which worked for its members; I see now it’s made itself a player in geopolitics, and lobbyist for certain groups, for some reason.” Which was fine, I guess, but I was out.

They expressed regret that I was going and said I was welcome to rejoin anytime. C’est tout.

Incidentally, I’d already left the NUJ in 2007, after requests for guidance on something were ignored for six months. I only rejoined, early last year, to verify rumours that the union was taking a sort of “class action” over historic holiday and PRSI compensation. They wouldn’t tell me if it was true or not until I rejoined.

(It wasn’t, which makes the whole thing even more teeth-grinding.)

These people are beyond useless: they’re dangerously useless. Their frothing one-sidedness emboldens Islamist extremists and makes life even more difficult for the tiny population of Irish Jews, regardless of anyone’s “good intentions” starting out.

And they’re useless, literally, as a union. The NUJ exists to advocate for journalists, nothing else. They have no purpose or reason to exist otherwise.

But this is symptomatic of modern life. Ironically, despite online scolds – the kind of people screeching loudest for Israel boycotts – constantly lecturing everyone to “stay in their lane”, nobody seems to do that anymore.

The NUJ are now geopolitical activists. The GAA, a sporting/cultural body, launches an initiative on domestic violence. During Covid you had teaching associations assuming the mantle of responsibility for healthcare, instead of ensuring the well-being of children, which was their job.

Entertainers don’t just entertain, they board a flotilla or pontificate on global warning. Our last President seemed to feel he had the right and obligation to do basically anything except the actual job of President.

On it goes, dismally. It’s at times like this the soul needs a balm, a distraction, something to lift the mood. I recommend the Eurovision: it’s on UK telly and the contest’s YouTube channel. Enjoy.


Comhaltas: think global, act local

First published in the Irish Examiner, June 2025

“Think global, act local”: the phrase was coined in the 1970s, gained new currency in the ‘90s and remains relevant today. Think global – in other words, big picture, broad view, the important things – and act on an individual and community level.

Its original authors meant it environmentally, but it can apply to all sorts of things. Irish arts and culture, for instance.

As with every other indigenous culture, especially smaller nations’, our music and dancing and language have been essentially under siege for decades in an increasingly homogenised, connected, corporatised global village. It’s further exacerbated, now, by the huge demographic and sociocultural change of mass immigration.

This isn’t to get into the rights or wrongs of that, just to state an obvious fact: indigenous arts and culture are diluted, everywhere and every time, the more non-indigenous people live there.

This is a depressing situation; whenever the world loses any of its remarkable range and richness of traditions is depressing. But that’s what we might call “global” – what about local? What can you or I do about it, here and now? How can we help Irish arts to survive and thrive?

I give you Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann. The kind of rare people giving words like “organisation”, “bureaucracy” and “non-profit” a good name.

Comhaltas was founded in 1951 by a group of musicians, concerned that Irish trad was in decline. They now have 400+ branches around the world, promoting and preserving our music, dancing and language.

They run weekly classes, periodic events and celebrations and sessions, and annual competitions. We’re currently gearing up in Clare for the County Fleadh, from Sunday June 8th. Do well in that and it’s onto the Munsters in Cork in July, and who knows? Maybe All-Ireland glory in Wexford this August. As the song goes, it’s the most wonderful time of the year.

Comhaltas have branches in places you’d expect – US, UK, Australia – and some you mightn’t: Colombia, Singapore, Patagonia, Japan. (Irish trad is massive in Japan especially, thanks mainly to Comhaltas. How’s that for thinking global?)

And they’re fantastic in what they do, the definition of “volunteer spirit”; they’re making the world a better place, one local step at a time, without asking or needing to be paid. Though that makes it all sound so worthy and po-faced, and getting involved in Comhaltas really isn’t like that at all.

It’s fun. It’s craic. It’s meeting people and doing things. It’s hefting chairs around a hall for the grúpa cheoil to assemble. It’s handing out wristbands for the Fleadh.

It’s WhatsApp groups and FaceBook photos and driving to rehearsals. It’s toting a harp case through a crowd and hoping to Jesus nobody bangs off the instrument, these things cost a lot of money…

It’s reuniting lost fiddle bows with their owner and waiting nervously with other parents for competition results. It’s negotiating complex timetables so you can watch your kid’s U15 group and still make the finale of the senior sean nós dancing.

It’s realising that sean nós, contrary to preconceptions, is an absolutely kick-ass style of dancing and how did this brilliant artform elude your attention until now?

One remarkable feature of Comhaltas, and traditional arts in general, is how it brings genuine superstars of the genre to the grassroots level – globally renowned names and local involvement.

In my own case, for example, the Kilfenora Céilí Band were formed 30 minutes from where I live. In trad terms, they’re megastars: they’ve played abroad (including the Glastonbury festival), been on the Late Late Show several times, performed at the National Concert Hall and other prestigious venues.

And I know several of them for years – just through normal life, and engagement with Comhaltas. They live local. They teach my kids music and/or steer groups through competition. They’re neighbours and friends. Our children play sport together. One is a teacher in a nearby secondary. (Another is Sharon Shannon’s brother, incidentally; he’s in a neighbouring branch, and there’s great friendly rivalry every summer.)

And it’s mad, you’re chatting to these people about the humdrum stuff of day-to-day and then they might say something like, “Sorry, we have to head off, we’ve to be in RTÉ by seven”. I love that. It’s what life should be about, really: incredibly talented artists, but also regular people who’re deeply engaged on a local level.

It’s the kind of thing you only really get in “roots” music. The rock equivalent would be The Edge teaching your kids guitar at the community hall, or Taylor Swift administrating a WhatsApp group called “Under 12 County final 2025”.

Funny, I was never a trad person growing up, and in fact still today am far more likely to listen to, or (badly) play, rock music or electronica or almost anything else, really, on CD or radio or YouTube.

But there’s something amazing about trad music and dance, when it’s live and in person; when you’re involved to some degree, not just passively consuming. It’s global, it’s local, it’s magical, it’s Comhaltas.