Gaelic Games and Self Determination -- Observations from Ireland

 By Leo Tobbe

        Ireland and the United States have always had a special relationship. They gave us John F. Kennedy, the Boston Red Sox, half the transcontinental railroad, and beer. In exchange, we gave
them decades of discrimination and cruelty, and infantilized them with outlandish stereotypes. As is the American Way. Still, we’ve have always had a unique affection for the raucous, ambitious,
fun-loving spirit of the Irish, as it contrasts with the puritanical roots of our early history. After studying abroad here and working at the Irish parliament (Oireachtas, in Irish) for a few weeks, I can think of no better way to share my observations on Irish political culture than through my favorite universal language— sports.
            Hurling, the national sport of Ireland and one of four traditional Gaelic games, carries with it a long and rich history that is deeply engrained with the Ireland’s national identity. English colonizers, in their centuries-long attempt to erase Irish people and culture from existence, tried to ban Gaelic games on the island dozens of times, declaring the Gaelic Athletic Association a “dangerous organization” in 1918
            To be fair, Gaelic games actually are quite dangerous. There are almost no rules on physical contact. In fact, there are almost no rules at all. A single referee manages the entire field. Instant replay is outlawed. Men and women play together on the same teams. Unsportsmanlike conduct penalty? Forget it. The stadium is being ripped apart by a category 3 hurricane? Bear down, and play ball.
            Here’s a fun example: In Gaelic football you’re allowed to take four steps without the ball
bouncing against your foot. Or five. Or six, or seven. You can get away with eight. The rule, as
described to me by professionals of the sport, is four-ish. If it feels fair, it’s fair.
Why is this the case? As one former hurling coach explained it to me, the fluidity with which
Irish people play their native sports is symptomatic of a larger cultural consensus. Governing
social life through moral absolutes echoes the strict social order of English occupation. For 800
years, their language, their sports and their songs were outlawed through the bureaucratic
repression of a foreign, illiberal democracy, while their wealth and capital flowed gracefully into
the hands of their oppressors.
        Thus, the philosophy of Irish sports, and of their politics, is one of self-determination. The state
exists to serve the populace by doing what it can do: collect and spend money in service of the
public good. Just as the state does not exist to impose an arbitrary social order, like the English
did, the referee does not exist to impose his righteous judgment upon the game. The referee
exists merely to ensure all players are fairly afforded the same opportunity to play.

Leo is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the Class of 2028. He is studying political science and economics.