Strange days indeed when the Taoiseach is sitting in the Oval Office stepping up to bat for the UK prime minister, Keir Starmer, while the ghost of Winston Churchill hovers behind the right shoulder of US president Donald Trump.
But that’s how Micheál Martin’s hour in the company of Trump evolved on a morning when the US president was not happy with his European allies, nor Nato, nor the world in general as the Middle East crisis deepens.
The St Patrick’s Day sitdown in the Oval Office was delayed by almost an hour, reflecting the chaos of an administration dealing with unfolding events. After formal remarks, Trump was immediately peppered with questions about Iran, imminent plans for Cuba and rising prices. The broadcast was carried by most of the major US networks and for an extended period, the camera panned in on Trump and the bowl of shamrock placed between him and the Taoiseach. Martin was, for many minutes, literally out of the picture.
He had two choices as Trump recited an increasingly cranky litany of complaints which slowly but surely concentrated on Starmer, who must have choked on his cornflakes if he was watching on from Westminster. Turning to a bust of Churchill in classic curmudgeon mode resting behind him, Trump told his guests former US president Barack Obama had banished the ornament from the Oval Office, returning it to the UK. Trump said he had retrieved it, before once again reiterating his disappointment in Starmer’s decision not to support the US attacks on Iran.
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The Taoiseach could have either sat as a bystander for the remainder of the occasion or intervened on behalf of the UK and Europe. He chose the latter and began to lightly, delicately push back at Trump’s general stance. Martin’s key skill lies in his ability to gently deflect and contradict in a conversational manner that comes across as sympathetic.
“We got a landing zone between Europe and the US and I think we can get a landing zone again,” he began, recalling the tariffs panic of a year ago, trying to coax Trump back to friendlier waters before embarking on a potentially disastrous history lesson on Churchill.
“The British-Irish relationship is a very important one. Churchill was a great war-time leader. Although in Ireland, there is kind of a different perspective in terms of the War of Independence . . . he created his own bit of difficulty for us. But that said, he was a great war-time leader.
“Keir Starmer has done a lot to reset the British-Irish relationship, I just want to put that on the record. But I do believe he’s a very . . . earnest, sound person that you have a capacity to get on with. You’ve got on with him before and you’ve got on with other European leaders as well.
“Everyone accepts . . . you cannot have a rogue state with a nuclear weapon, or the capacity for a nuclear weapon. Iran was responsible for terrorism. We sanctioned Iran, all the European countries did, and in particular the IRGC (Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps) as a terrorist organisation.
“The Irish position has always been, ‘can we get peace?’. We had our own conflict that went on for 30 years and we learned a lot from that in terms of how to bring about that.”
One can only imagine the clitter-clatter of Crockett & Jones shoes and alarmed voices around Number Ten as this unfolded: “Sir, sir, the Irish and Trump are talking about you . . . and Churchill.”
The task for Martin, having started to speak, was to figure out how to stop. It’s extremely difficult to get a word in edgeways in Trump’s court, particularly on an afternoon when the US press corps have many questions. But having began, the Taoiseach was determined to finish. He spoke for a staggering three unbroken minutes.
The old Tommy Tiernan joke about Declan Moffit, the inexperienced marathon runner – “He was running so fast he didn’t know how to stop” – came to mind. When Trump is losing interest, or patience, he begins to wince and fidget and find people to point at.
Still Martin spoke on, wandering into the territory of Ukraine and making vague, slightly woolly aspirations for peace. He did not risk incurring Trump’s wrath by making the obvious point, that Nato came to the aid of the United States after the attacks of September 11th, 2001. He certainly didn’t double down on President Catherine Connolly’s statement on the legality of the US-Israeli attack on Iran.
Nor did Martin elect to enlighten Trump to the fact that Ireland’s president is a woman. But he did manage to step into the role of European emissary – and defender of the reputation of the beleaguered Starmer – without making the US president blow a gasket.
“I agree with everything you said,” Trump said.
“But we helped with Ukraine. And they don’t help with Iran. And they all acknowledge that Iran can’t have a nuclear weapon. These are horrendous people . . . these are the worst people going back to Hitler. They (US allies in Europe) are all congratulating us for doing a great job and saying we knocked the hell out of them. But you would have thought they would have said we’d love to send a couple of mine-sweepers. But they didn’t do that. I think it’s very unfair to the United States.”
With that, the danger passed. Nothing about the early-morning prelude had suggested a worrying afternoon. Vice president JD Vance and his wife, Usha, stood at the veranda of the Naval Observatory as the Taoiseach’s cavalcade arrived for the traditional breakfast. Both were beaming, as though waiting to greet old college friends they hadn’t seen in an age.
There appeared to be a genuine warmth between Usha Vance and Mary Martin, even if the husbands were slightly stiffer in their greetings. Green was the dominant sartorial theme. Inside, Vance, a slick hand at these events, clarified the formalities of title: Taoiseach or prime minister?
Martin had said he was fine with either, to which Vance said: “We’ll call you Taoiseach. I don’t want to cause any diplomatic incidents today. I am thrilled to have you here.
“I am very thrilled to have this breakfast; this is one of my favourite traditions to have this breakfast. I had a great time doing this last year. There are so many cultural sensibilities and common interests between the US and Ireland and that’s one of the things we can celebrate here this morning. I have this long list of all the investments that Ireland is making in the United States and all the things we are doing in Ireland.”
All of this was highly promising. And the breakfast was reportedly delish. But this is a new time, a sharp time. Even as coffee was being served, international events were moving at breakneck pace. First came the news that a key US intelligence official, Joe Kent, had tendered a conscientious resignation over the decision to bomb Iran.
With an almost theatrical sense of timing, the Israeli began to crow about the reported overnight killing of Ali Larijani, Iran’s top security official and regarded by many as the de facto head of the post-Khamenei regime. Neither of these events were likely to enhance Trump’s morning mood and the scheduled 10.45 Oval Office meeting was delayed by a full hour. The fear, during that waiting period, was that Martin would be meeting a vexed US president.
When Trump is vexed, he often seeks a punch bag – a reporter, a political rival, another head of state. If the nearest available punchbag happened to come in the shape of an Irish visitor wearing a large sprig of shamrock, a hopeful smile and a paid-up membership to the infuriating European Union, so be it.
But! This remains a day apart on the calendar of international diplomacy. The White House had even gone to the trouble of greening the north fountain water display. During a war! And Trump was in welcoming mood.
The Oval Office meeting had opened with misty-eyed reminisces about Ireland’s key players in America’s political evolution and happy forecasts about the Irish Open at Doonbeg. It was obvious Irish diplomacy is managing to maintain, for another year at least, its magic act of persuading the Trump administration that while Ireland is in Europe, it’s also a lovable US outpost – and its own place entirely. Irish exceptionalism is alive and well.
At one stage, Trump remembered Martin had told him that no fewer than 23 US presidents had Irish roots
“Can you believe it?” he said, leaning forward and enthused. “The Irish are great politicians! No, but think of it! Twenty-three!”
Think of it, indeed.
To this, the Taoiseach merely smiled and said nothing.
