In 1850, the very same
year a young Offaly man named Falmouth Kearney sailed to America to seek his
fortune, the United States Census carried a new classification for a group
known as mulattos. Among other reasons, this category was introduced to
accommodate the increasing number of children born of inter-racial marriages
between African-Americans and Irish immigrants. More than a century and a half
later, Kearney’s great-great-great grandson, President Barack Obama, somebody
who can trace his bloodlines to exactly that type of relationship, will return
to Ireland next week to be greeted with so much adulation it will give a whole
new meaning to the term “Black Irish”.
Obama is merely the
latest African-American icon to be belatedly claimed by Ireland and, by
extension, Irish-America as one of our own. The list of the great and the good
black legends with Irish connections is long and growing each year. Muhammad
Ali’s maternal great-grandfather was Abe Grady from Ennis, Co. Clare. Billie
Holiday was born Eleanora Fagan and her link to Ireland was a grandfather. Jimi
Hendrix’ mother Nora Moore’s lineage was even more direct, an Irish father. If
these are all tangible, authentic ancestral connections (unlike, ahem, the
ongoing debate about the veracity of Bill Clinton’s claim to have Fermanagh
roots), the question is why it’s taken us so long to address this facet of our
diaspora.
For generations and
generations, the black branches of the Irish-American family tree went
untouched and largely ignored outside the obscure provinces of academia.
Whether or not this failure was the inevitable byproduct of decades of historic
feuding between the two ethnic groups, this seemed, for far too long, to be the
genealogy that dare not speak its name. Rosa Parks may well be able to lay
claim to being one of the most influential African-American women of the 20th
century but most people didn’t know until her death in 2005 that her
great-grandfather was a Scots-Irishman named McCauley.
We learned in school in
Cork about Parks’ heroic refusal to sit at the back of the bus and the way it
sparked the civil rights’ movement in America but nobody told us she was of
Irish stock. Why not? Well, the answer to that case in particular, and our
refusal to engage this whole area in general can be best explained by the case
of Billie Holiday. The chanteuse was one of 17 children born to a black
Virginia slave and a white Irish plantation owner, a vivid tale of its time
that highlights how not all relations between African-Americans and Irish were
consensual or even formally acknowledged.
“My great-granddaddy who
was Irish had a nice, pretty, little slave girl and one day he was out walking
and visiting, and that’s how we all got mixed up like we are,” said Muhammad
Ali with a smile when questioned about his Irish heritage during a 1978
interview on American television. As he always did back then, Ali asserted any
white blood in his family could only have come as a result of some slave-owner
taking advantage of his chattel. Whatever euphemism Ali used to describe this
carry-on, he usually drew uncomfortable laughter from his audience and
everybody moved quickly on.
Of course, this version
of events was untrue and did a grave disservice to Abe Grady who married a
freed slave in the 1870s in Kentucky and begat Ali’s maternal line. But the
fighter, then in his radical Nation of Islam, anti-whitey phase of his career,
regularly told reporters the claim he had white ancestors was a typical attempt
by the establishment to try to denigrate blacks who achieve greatness by
asserting their white blood had something to do with that success. One can
imagine at least some Africa-Americans watching the footage of Obama in
Moneygall on CNN next week thinking along similar lines.
Having first come to
light during his trip to Dublin to fight Al “Blue” Lewis in 1972, Ali’s
Irishness was (deliberately or conveniently) forgotten about for nearly three
decades. Given the Irish-American propensity to try to establish even the most
tenuous linkage to any high-achiever, this seems very odd. Was it his colour that
explains this delay? Or was it anything to do with the fact that by the time
Abe Grady’s story came to prominence again in the early 2000s, the fighter had
made the journey from polarising racial polemicist to respectable grand old man
of world sport?
That would seem a fair
reading after you look at the photographs of Enda Kenny and others joshing with
the former champ when he was guest of honour at the American-Ireland
fund-raising dinner in Manhattan the other week. By our estimates it took the
doyennes of Irish-America nearly forty years to come to terms with, accept,
embrace, and, some would now say, try to exploit Ali’s Irishness. Nobody talks
about the slave origin myth he used to peddle back in the day. And nobody in
his camp asks why he was the curiously forgotten Irishman for so long?
The pity in all this is
the Irish and the African-Americans once had much more in common than marriages
and relationships. For a long time in the 19th century, they shared
a space at the bottom of society’s ladder. The ghettoes in which both groups
were shoehorned in the big cities across America often overlapped. Hence the
love affairs that sprung up. Indeed, their stations were so similar that the
Irish were alternatively known as “white Negroes” and “Negroes turned inside
out” while their black counterparts were described as “smoked Irish”. No more
graphic demonstration of their equality than that.
“Those terms reflected the scorn and disdain with which both were
regarded by the better-situated, by the leading elements of American society,”
said Noel Ignatiev, author of “How the Irish Became White”. “There was
speculation that there would be some “amalgamation,” that is, that Irish and
black would blend into each other and become one common people. That didn’t happen;
in fact, the opposite happened.”
As the 19th
century wore on, the Irish in America moved up the ladder and, as they did so,
developed a reputation for racism that they’ve struggled to shake off ever
since. This is the elephant in room when it comes to Obama’s trip to Ireland.
When the two ethnicities were competing for the worst-paid jobs, they fought
violently. Once the Irish got a stranglehold on industries, they did everything
they could to keep out their former peers. That they’d been the victims of
institutionalized prejudice themselves back home didn’t matter a jot. They
gained some semblance of power and they often abused it.
If the troubled history
between the two explains why Irish-America has been traditionally so reluctant
to claim African-Americans with traceable Irish antecedents, all that has
changed now. Not long after the news of Obama’s plans to retrace the journey of
Falmouth Kearney broke back in March, the first reports appeared in New York’s
Irish papers that his wife Michelle also had a connection to the old country
through an ancestor by the name of Shields. Well, she’s the First Lady now.
She’s ascended high enough to be claimed as one of our own.
(first published in the
Daily Mail in 2011)
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