Trump doesn’t want to ‘hurt Ireland’, but he probably will

In honour of St Patrick, here’s a word from the Irish language that has wheeled itself into English as spoken in Ireland: plámás (pronounced plaugh mause). There is no exact equivalent in English, but it means strategic flattery, buffering someone’s ego with one’s own interest firmly in mind.

With a super ego back in charge of the world’s superpower, plámás has become an international diplomatic default. UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s recent visit to the US was a highlight of his so far chequered leadership. A golden, Charlie Bucket envelope for Trump from King Charles, inviting him back for an “unprecedented” second state visit, did the trick. Safely back in London, Starmer could give warm consolatory hugs to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky a few days later.

Irish Taoiseach Micheal Martin with US President Donald Trump in the Oval Office on Wednesday.Credit: AP

Politically, St Patrick’s Day affords the Irish government an opportunity to exert its soft power around the globe, a chance to connect with the 70 million strong Irish diaspora. Senior government ministers hightail it around the world, including to Australia. The highlight is in Washington where, in long-established custom, the taoiseach [prime minister], currently Micheal Martin, presents a bowl of shamrock to the US president. The March visit affords access to the White House unmatched by any other country Ireland’s size.

This year, however, there was much trepidation and nervousness in Ireland before the visit, even speculation that the White House invitation would not be forthcoming. Ireland, for all its historical and cultural links to the US, embodies many of the foreign failings that Trump most excoriates. Ireland is an enthusiastic member (the only English-speaking one left) of the reviled European Union – set up “to take advantage of the United States”, according to Trump.

The republic has lured American companies, especially in technology and pharmaceuticals, that Trump would rather have at home. More recently, Ireland has been highly critical of America’s close ally Israel, leading to the closure of the Israeli embassy in Dublin.

Furthermore, Ireland does not pay much for its defence and has been accused of freeloading. Despite its official “neutrality”, and its tendency to make moral pronouncements on the international stage, it is one of the lowest spenders on its own military in Europe (0.2 to 0.3 per cent of GDP). By contrast, Switzerland, perhaps the most famous of all neutral countries, is armed to the teeth.

International leaders, Irish and Australian alike, are learning how to handle Trump Mark II and, in both countries, that relationship has quickly become a domestic political football. Just as Peter Dutton and Anthony Albanese are sparring over who would best handle the American leader, the mainly left-wing Irish opposition parties have condemned the taoiseach for his sycophancy.

Sinn Féin, now the main opposition party, boycotted the Washington St Patrick’s event this year, in protest about Trump’s proposals to ethnically cleanse Gaza. That left only the Unionist DUP to represent the Northern Irish electorate. Paradoxically, Sinn Féin were there in force last year, despite Joe Biden’s military support for Israel’s “genocidal” bombing of the strip.

Uncle Joe represented an old style Democrat Irish-American president (maybe the last of his kind) that they could ill-afford to offend. The Shinners (Sinn Féin) can be chameleons when it suits them. During the Troubles, they could get wealthy Irish-Americans to fund the “armed struggle”, while also proclaiming revolutionary socialism and taking shipments of Semtex explosives from Gaddafi’s Libya. Yet the decision to boycott the White House visit this year shows an absence of realpolitik on their part. It puts them one step further from the prize that has so far eluded them, namely leadership of the government in the south.

The truth is that Ireland has no choice but to take part in this shamrock diplomacy. The country is economically dependent on its friendship with the US, with three-quarters of its corporate tax-take coming from American companies. It cannot afford the moral luxury of endangering this relationship, both for economic reasons and because of the close cultural and political relations that were so successful in achieving peace in Ireland. Ireland needs to prioritise its own real independence before it can bite this hand.

As it turned out, the visit went off smoothly enough on Wednesday, despite the announcement of reciprocal EU tariffs on the USA made the same day. There were jovial jokes about J.D. Vance’s shamrock socks and a special performance from Riverdance. The livid foreign policy issues – Gaza and Ukraine – were danced around by easy talk about the desirability of peace.

There was nonetheless an underlying tension. Trump commended Ireland for being “smart”, in exploiting the lesser presidents who preceded him. But he remarked that had he been in office he would have slapped a 200 per cent tariff on US pharmaceutical companies set up in Ireland. Martin gently pushed back by pointing at the two-way economic street, and cited Ryanair’s purchase of Boeing planes. In general, the visit passed off with the usual platitudes about interconnected histories and hopeful futures. Yet the trade war between the USA and the EU looms no less large.

Donald Trump praised mixed martial arts fighter Conor McGregor, saying he liked his tattoos.Credit: AP

When asked who his favourite Irish person was, Trump named Conor McGregor (“best tattoos I’ve ever seen”). The Irish are “great fighters”, the patter went on. “Smart people.” Tough people. Passionate people. Trump leant towards the taoiseach, whose father represented Ireland as a boxer. “I think your father was a great fighter, right?” Martin’s eyebrows arched wryly. “He was. He was a very good defensive boxer.” The ironic quip, like anything non-literal, seemed lost on Trump.

If Ireland wants to be more than a pleaser, to punch when plámás is not enough, it needs to de-risk itself, to diversify its exposure to the whims of American capital, to invest in indigenous enterprises, and to adapt its defence policy for the new geopolitical reality. The Irish leader got through St Patrick’s Day in one piece and Trump remarked that he didn’t want to “do anything to hurt Ireland”. But he may. The bigger fight, the US-EU trade war, has many more rounds to go.

Ronan McDonald holds the Gerry Higgins Chair of Irish Studies at the University of Melbourne and is vice president of Melbourne’s Celtic Club.

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