Opinion

Jarlath Kearney: Art of politics has much to learn from politics of art

The macro chessboard of Brexit isn’t going to produce any checkmate by October 31. 
The macro chessboard of Brexit isn’t going to produce any checkmate by October 31.  The macro chessboard of Brexit isn’t going to produce any checkmate by October 31. 

It's 20 years since Brazilian photojournalist Sebastiáo Salgado published the epic book Exodus - a 400-page monument of photographs from 35 countries over six years.

His book explores the movement of human populations across borders of land and boundaries of life, as people fled poverty, conflict and persecution, fighting for survival. The photographs are compelling evidence of horrors that most of us could not even imagine.

Having witnessed killing fields from the Balkans to Rwanda, Salgado wrote on the cusp of the new millennium:

“My hope is that, as individuals, as groups, as societies, we can pause and reflect on the human condition… We have to create a new regimen of coexistence. More than ever, I feel that the human race is one.

“There are differences of colour, language, culture and opportunities, but people’s feelings and reactions are alike... We hold the key to humanity’s future, but for that we must understand the present.”

Such small ‘p’ political words from an artist’s expert insight can act socially as an agent provocateur (creating reactions) or an amicus curiae (assisting understandings). In today’s Ireland they can help us to focus and frame the many glaring questions that cross the boundaries of our different public perspectives.

For example, how can some people talk about constitutional changes without first proposing their changes to constitutions?

How can some people talk so frequently about Brexit’s headline vagaries without first showing basic regard for the value of Brexit’s documented facts?

How can some people talk about healing and reconciliation as a public policy objective without first demonstrating it as a personal philosophy?

How can some people talk about ideas of either ‘unity’ or ‘union’ without first reframing them in ways that do not automatically divide or exclude others?

How can some people talk about the deadlines and priorities of political negotiations without first prioritising the lines of dead from our social epidemic of suicide and addiction?

How can some people talk about owning the ‘dignity and right to national self-determination’ whilst simultaneously robbing fellow citizens of their basic dignity and right to life?

How can some people claim their commitment to the rule of law whilst simultaneously assaulting the credible and reasoned decision-making of an independent judiciary, simply because they dislike a particular court’s judgment?

Most fundamentally, how can we solve borders of the land if we are not also prepared to acknowledge and dismantle the borders that exist within our own minds and hearts? (The problem is that often we don’t even recognise the latter.)

These are not questions that can be solved in the next few weeks. And the macro chessboard of Brexit isn’t going to produce any checkmate by October 31.

So one way or the other, the big wheels of politics and society will continue to turn. But at some stage, notwithstanding ongoing instability, we have to really start addressing these kinds of questions with clarity and courage.

These, and many more related matters, must become critical considerations for honest public discussion if London, Dublin and Belfast are to once again re-establish strong, sustainable, long-term diplomatic channels in coming years – re-imagining the totality of relationships.

Perhaps the answers might start to emerge if we could begin to understand our local concerns and relationships set against the Goliath scale of the wider world’s panoramic history and horrors.

In the relative context of the current political crises faced by these islands, Sebastiáo Salgado’s sobering images and insights from 1999 (global realities that have since become intensified) should act to moderate everyone’s words and deeds in the public square.

Understanding the present can only be achieved by understanding each other. But mutual understanding requires more intensive efforts at communicating, listening, dialoguing, gaining insight, and genuinely learning about the “feelings and reactions” of others, with deeper generosity and greater gentleness than currently exists.

Stretching our personal perspectives and seeing beyond artificial borders are true signatures of leadership in political and social life. They are needed ever more urgently in these turbulent days. The art of politics still has much to learn from the politics of art.