“A man doesn’t become a hero until he can see the root of his own downfall”
Aristotle
In Oscar Wilde’s case, his downfall came about when, at the peak of his career, he sued the Marquess of Queensberry for libel. Defence council Edward Carson discovered a long line of rent boys willing to testify, and so the case collapsed, and criminal charges quickly followed. Wilde knew the dangerous power those mostly working class youths posed to him; he described being with them as “feasting with panthers”. When Wilde heard that it was Carson, an old Trinity rival, who was to oppose him, he remarked “No doubt he will pursue his case with all the added bitterness of an old friend”.
Twenty one years later, Roger Casement was hanged for treason. His own diaries were found and circulated by British officials in order to discredit him; scribblings salaciously listing his many sexual exploits with men, especially youths he met out cruising at night in Europe and abroad. Appeals by his many supporters for clemency were, as a result, ignored.
A hero’s tragic flaw is one which is self-inflicted. The poet Cathal Ó Searcaigh, with the same taste for post-pubescent youths as Casement and Wilde, (which makes them pederasts, not paedophiles) welcomes a film crew into his life in Nepal, and the resulting damning documentary, Fairytale of Kathmandu, has become defamatory evidence that, at the time of writing, may or may not be used in a court of law against him.
You will have to wait till March 11th to see the documentary itself, when RTÉ broadcasts it. It’s a honey trap of a film; it starts off lyrical and soft, elegiac for the most part, a lilting portrayal of a popular charismatic figure and the obvious heartfelt love that surrounds him in Kathmandu. In the months that she is there with him, however, the director, his friend and neighbour Neasa Ní Chianán, also records the frequent visits to his hotel by young men, who often stay the night, and become his friend for a few days or a few weeks, and sometimes longer. We hear some boys talking and joking about the many, many young friends he has, laughing about the numbers. Unaccountably, the director doesn’t ask Ó Searcaigh about them at the time, nor talk directly to the youths herself. It wasn’t until the cynical, jaded hotel manager talked about Western exploitation that her “eyes were opened”. (One has to remember that this same hotelier had been happy to have Ó Searcaigh as a regular guest for years.) Then, and only after Ó Searcaigh had left Kathmandu, she puts the word out, decides to interview some of the youths (all 16 or over) with a counsellor. They tell tales of confusion, hurt feelings, shame about feeling that they had been “bought”, and anger. Which is, after all, exactly what she was looking for – the Nepalese are obliging to Westerners, whom they see as gods. Most of all, what comes across from them are stories of lost innocence.
Innocence is the theme of the film, a collective Fall from Eden. Although Ní Chianán portrays herself as having been innocent, only realising, with shame, that the subject of her biography had been busy having a sex life throughout her stay in Nepal, right in front of her eyes, it is not mentioned that she had already spent a winter filming him for a previous documentary, The Poet, The Shopkeeper and the Babu (2006). If I am to believe that her statements in the film are authentic, and not disingenuous, then she is guilty of letting her own freely-admitted hero-worship of Ó Searcaigh get in the way of what this documentary should have been: a piercing and fearless exploration of the man’s voracious sexual appetites, and how he squares it with his exquisitely sensitive nature. However, perhaps because she was nursing her second child during the shoot, and feeling very maternal and protective, which she freely admits, she avoided grasping the thorny issue of his sexual exploits until he had left the country. So, crucially, he is not present to hear his accusers, to respond, to account for himself.
This is not to say that it is right that he should leave so many ex-lovers unhappy, nor that he apparently bedded some of them under false pretences; but I am not convinced that an adolescent’s loss of innocence (over the age of consent) is necessarily the sin that Ní Chianán makes it out to be. It is a mother’s desire that children are protected for as long as possible from hurt and pain – it is only natural. But it is also important to recognise that, at some stage, that one’s children will make mistakes, will have sex, which is often disturbing and confusing. They will grow up. Boys become men. To interpret the experience of a teenager having sex with an older man for the first time as de facto abuse, and to see him only as a victim, is potentially disempowering, shaming, and even castrating. Seeing herself as a rescuer, setting up a trust fund for Ó Searcaigh’s“victims” so they can receive psychosexual counselling is, in my professional opinion, as a working psychotherapist, inappropriate and potentially unhelpful. The hurt that Ní Chianán discovered in the boys she interviewed was relational, in that they didn’t like their experiences with Ó Searcaigh. Their complaints should have been brought directly to the man himself, then and there, so we, the audience, could understand for ourselves the interpersonal dynamics, could judge for ourselves what had happened between them. There is no evidence to suggest that he would have refused this exploration; indeed, perhaps, unconsciously, it is what he was inviting, for we men can insulate ourselves from women’s perspectives on sexuality and relationships, often to our detriment. Instead, his erstwhile friend returns to Ireland and ambushes him with her accusations, and his shocked, defensive, blustering response is what ends the film. This lack of natural justice is why I am so angry with the film makers.
It took them two winters in Nepal to finally address the elephant in the room: the man who put cruising into the Irish language (ag crúsáil) was cruising, all the time. It’s there in the documentary, you can see him strutting through the streets of Kathmandu, late at night, his boys following behind him, cock of the walk. Some of the youths in his life are timid and shy – although it is impossible to know whether the pained awkwardness we see in one youth in particular, being treated to ice cream, is the result of being with Ó Searcaigh or having a Western film crew focussed on his every facial expression. Lest anyone think that we Westerners are bringing our evil ways to the innocent East, there are cruising areas in Kathmandu, and one, a small cruising park in the centre of the city, has between 100-200 guys visiting every night. There are trained outreach workers to spread the safe sex message, and a drop-in centre for gay people – with a staff of 23. There is even an annual gay pride march.
Desire makes fools of us all, and when it expresses itself outside of a relationship of equal status and common interests, which is what many people like to think sex should be about, especially women, then it brings its own contradictions, pleasures and pains. Ní Chianán really doesn’t understand this kind of sex, but, most unprofessionally, didn’t seem to want to understand. The first lad in the documentary who spends the night with Ó Searcaigh, a seventeen-year-old called Ram, seems at ease with him the next day and Ní Chianán’s voice-over seems mystified as to why this might be: “they were worlds apart”. Her curiosity should have been expressed to the poet, then and there. But then, we’d have had a very different kind of film, adult, intelligent and non-exploitative, instead of a pained but nevertheless vindictive response to her own disappointment, that her hero has feet of clay. In Fairytale of Kathmandu, we have a man innocent enough to believe that his friend would not become his nemesis, threaten him with criminal proceedings using the film as evidence, and refuse to supply him with a copy of the film so he could defend himself properly once it had begun being shown and marketed, when his very openness about matters sexual would have meant that he could have explained himself to his accusers on film, long before it had got to that stage. Ó Searcaigh’s hamartia, or tragic flaw, is that he was too trusting.
Apparently, Ní Chianán had an unfilmed conversation with the poet after she had completed the film, and she asked him to consider therapy, to reform himself. According to her, they parted on good terms, with a hug. His subsequent refusal to reform was interpreted by her as evidence that he was an unapologetic recidivist child abuser, to judge by the way she writes and speaks about him now. The answer may be far more complex and uncomfortable: this man, like many men and indeed some women, has a form of sexuality that is transgressive, and seeks to push the limits of desire as far as he can. At its root may indeed be a broken heart, as Ní Chianán alludes to in the film, and a desire to avoid the painful feelings of being dependent, of being possessive and obsessive. But it may also be driven by delight in pleasure, a love of beauty and gentleness, and a lack of shame about sex. He certainly needs to address the issues raised in the film about exploitation, and come to terms with the implications of being a rich Westerner in a poor country, and how that is a perilous path. He most definitely needs to face his accusers. But it occurred to me, as I was watching a few of the lads later on in the film, who were laughing genially and expressively at his every word, but not really getting his literary references, that they were humouring the old codger. Exploitation can be a two-way street, especially when it comes to sex.
“It is the Hera archetype that makes us see Priapus as distorted as we do” says the writer James Hillman. What he’s saying is that the more we look at relationships and sex from a matronly, family-orientated perspective, the more grotesque, threatening and repellent the male sex drive seems. This film is so biassed. Indeed, it is worse, it is prejudicial and punitive. Cathal Ó Searcaigh’s side of the story, in all its uncomfortable complexity, has yet to be told.
This article was originally published in Hot Press. See also the young men’s own story here. I discussed the documentary on The Kiosk with Nadine O’Regan on Phantom FM on Saturday 15th March. An edited version of this article was reproduced in Village magazine, April 2008.
{ 36 } Comments
caithfidh mé a rá go bhfuil iontas mór ormsa. tá mé díreach i ndiaidh an scannán a fheiceál agus is fior go bhfuil cuid den mheas a bhí agam dó caillte anois. b’fhéidir go bhfuil an ceart agat agus go raibh rud mór den bheagán ach fós, ní thiocfá a rá nach bhfuil milliún ar bith air féin?
Do you know are there any plans to make it available on DVD? I didn’t have a chance to watch the RTE showing, but would be quite interested to see it.
you play down o searchaighs actions and separate the sexual act so completely from the preparation and patronage employed by C O S and add weight to your words by emphasising your professional role as a psychotherapist as if
this gives more legitimacy to your personal view.have you in your professional capacity worked with women on this issue and studied them for a great length of time …?
cathal used money donated to his charitable mission if you wish to call it that to buy favours with these boys many of whom had no sexual experience at all. there are a million good reasons why they might have recanted their statements but the fact is that several of these boys are getting counselling and interviews were given in the presence
of a counsellor . many people resist regret retract accusations of exploitation and sexual abuse or inappropriate advances but not necessarily because they were false and you know this as a therapist .
people who are exploited will often fear disclosure and the can of worms this opens .
they may regret what they disclose because it creates a political issue that has to be
then addressed. they fear the outcome may be bad for them – and it is often the case
particularly for rape victims.
i am sure many boys would be easily bought for a bicycle as was the case – this was how cathal used public donations. you cannot separate the two. i dont wish to cast him as a monster but what he did was fundamentally wrong. it undermines the work of so many people who work with disadvantaged children exploited youth and sexually vulnerable youth in unequal societies here and in third world.
neasas view had nothing to do with being female and you are questioning the ability of women – in a sweeping generalisation – to be objective about sexual analysis .
sex has always been the bartering currency of the poor with the influential and it has nothing to do with a sexual odyssey for sex ’s sake.
Julianna,
I chose to mention my being a psychotherapist because, at the moment, the film maker is apparently of the view that what is at issue here is an open and shut case of sexual grooming and exploitation, and her thinking has greatly been influenced by the Rape Crisis Network and other agencies that deal with child abuse. Seen in such a light, the boys can only be seen as victims, deluded, disempowered and deceived, and in need of counselling to recognise the damage that has been done to them. The implication is that they are emotionally scarred for life unless they recognise that they have been victimized, and counselling is what is required to help them heal.
In my article I suggest an alternative perspective on the rite of passage of these young men, and dare to suggest that one’s sexual experiences as a youth with an older man may not be as wounding as is supposed, and indeed may mark their transition into manhood. My concern is the same as Ní Chianán’s in this regard – I care about their wellbeing and dignity, but we have greatly differing views as to how this may be facilitated. My experience and interest is in masculinity in particular, ever since I co-facilitated the first gay youth group in Ireland when I was 17, and you asking me whether or not I have worked with women on this issue (I have, btw) is beside the point. I, too, have vivid memories of my own experiences with older men, when I was a teenager.
Of course if some of the young men are getting counselling, (although this is disputed) then I hope they find it useful. As a therapist, however, I find it disagreeable that the film maker used the presence of a counsellor to facilitate her damaging project, because if I were that counsellor, I would be opposed to such intimate experiences being filmed, because of the profound invasion of privacy that it entails. If one is too young and disadvantaged to give informed consent to sex, which is her thesis, then by the same token one is too young to have one’s private life blasted all over the world’s media.
Of course victims of abuse retract their statements afterwards, reeling from the impact, yes I do know this. But, it also must be acknowledged, if someone doesn’t see himself as a victim, and still demands privacy, at what stage is he to be believed? When are we to give him the respect he deserves as a man to make his own decisions, come to his own conclusions, or are we to forever dismiss his desires as a victim in denial? Do we wait until Nepal becomes a richer country, and then we might grudgingly believe him? Do we wait till he finishes college? Do we wait until he settles down and marries, and gets over the phase he went through? How patronising can we be?
As for being easily bought – one question is key. Was Ó Searcaigh’s generosity conditional on sex being given? Was he as generous to those he didn’t have sex with? Was he the sort of man to withdraw his patronage if a boy didn’t have sex with him? I don’t know, but I’d like to know.
As for my comment on Neasa being a woman – I think she proved herself to be very naive about (homo)sexuality. However, I have been taken to task by my women friends for saying what I did. In my defence I will say that Ní Chianán herself mentions her being a nursing mother may have influenced her, on the film’s website. I will say that there are two different perspectives possible at the crucial stage of when a young man has sex for the first time. One is to lament the loss of innocence and to keen for the child that has been lost, and to discredit his choice. The other is to welcome the man he might become, and to encourage him to take responsibility for his actions, and learn from his mistakes. The latter perspective is, I would suggest, more empowering for a young man.
I repeat my assertion that Ó Searcaigh needs to acknowledge the issue of exploitation, the power imbalance, and I don’t think he gets it yet. But I don’t think Ní Chianán gets how she has herself exploited these young men for her own purposes, and to use the presence of a counsellor as a figleaf for her actions angers me. That’s why I “came out” as a psychotherapist in this article.
Sex as a bartering currency of the poor? Yes, it happens the world over. If that was Ó Searcaigh’s only asking price for his philanthropy, then indeed he deserves the opprobrium he is getting. But there are enough voices in Kathmandu telling a different story to make me wonder.
Let’s forget Oscar Wilde, Roger Casement, and dependency on quotes from soundbite representatives of an historical civilisation long gone, long evolved, long changed. What can we ever do with those, after all, other than dress up speculation as fact? I mean, if we were to apply the same level of honest critical rigour to their lives and actions as to people such as Neasa Ní Chianán, then we’d be forced to admit that anything we ever say about them is open to doubt. In that framework, almost anything could be prevented from being broadcast/written and thus seen by the masses, at least until it has been seen by (educated? Classicist? Academic? Legal? Artistic? Cultured?) ‘experts’ (David Norris, Irish Times, March 12th). It also adds unfair intellectual weight as well as national/world importance to this current, rather simple, issue: A relatively wealthy Irish man having sex with, and then spending lots of money on (that bike he bought for that young fella was €140, surprisingly costly for Nepal! Hmmm…) vastly poorer (in material terms) teenage boys, who were all of a fairly similar age, build, and look.
Let’s forget Cathal O Searcaigh’s poetry, his membership of Aosdána. Let’s forget how we’re supposed to think artists somehow more equipped to experience and then comment on life than the rest of us, and who, making a living out of this illusion, will for the greater part, defend it in a manner that seeks to somewhat arrogantly put us mere men and women of the flesh and crude intellect, back in our boxes.
We’re being asked to take part in a fantasy, (or ‘fairytale’, etc etc). Not by Neasa Ni Chianán, but instead by those who lose sleep over an article that deals with an issue, and a person and his actions and situation that, for most people, (while drawing sympathy for a man so detached from reality and so immersed in his own pain, and so convinced of the righteousness of his own particular false view) has gone about causing a lot of destruction in a land, and upon people, that he knows will be less likely to bite back. Far less likely than, say, Donegal, London, or Dublin. Nepal is also a land in which he’s less likely than in, say, Africa, to contract nasty viruses from otherwise sexually inactive youths.
Let’s remember that this film was broadcast to a generation of Irish people many of whom have passed through Asia, and have seen the droves of pasty middle aged white men lining the streets of places such as Pattaya, Bangkok, waiting for ‘love’. It’s really nothing new, it’s just that O Searcaigh is a loner and has poetic leanings and so carries out the same deeds in a part of Asia where it’s less popular, and where he’s far from the reality of the situation, i.e. encountering thousands of others just like himself, who will expose the ordinary lie at the root of his actions! In their hungry, sad, eyes (the same eyes as those of O Searcaigh), they have felt the pain of lives unfulfilled, of hurts never to be healed. In that we see ourselves, our own. In that we are all the same. And yet in their actions, with ‘post-pubescent’ girls and boys, those who come from small villages to make money by any means possible, they see something that’s so very, very, questionable. They’ve heard accounts from these men, saying that these girls/boys are so different from back home, so ‘innocent’, so ‘open’. They’ll hear it once, twice, three times, and it’ll begin to wear very, very, thin. It’ll be obvious to anyone (other than to those men themselves), that they are simply locked inside a world of fiery self-delusion, in which any wrong, any exploitation, any self-serving satisfaction of a ‘voracious sexual appetite’, can be justified.
But it just so happens that O Searcaigh is a poet. It just so happens that for years he’s been better at dressing it up. For those of us who have read his poetry, possibly met him or come across him, there’s always been a certain ‘oddness’ about his accounts of Nepal (e.g. The Poet, the Shopkeeper and Babu). But people just left him to it. Oddness, after all, has never bee a crime. And if there’s one thing we’ve learned in this country, it’s that our ‘odd’ countrymen and women sometimes produce incredible works of art. So leave them to it. We did, after all, censor them, and send them abroad for too long, what with our pious judgementalism! I presume that people thought he was doing ok, doing a lot of good, in fact, and that he was self-aware enough to know basic right from wrong. They were happy to see images of him with his adopted son in Nepal, were happy to see him happy, even if there was a curious off-note being played over and over again, somewhere, in their hearts. People are tolerant! (though you wouldn’t think so, taking into account the reactions of those who seek to defend his actions in this regard, as well as those who would like to see the guy cursed, who I can only assume are encouraged to represent reality, by the likes of Joe Duffy, etc).
But people, most people, are also difficult to really fool. They realize there’s an argument for anything. The mind will find a way to justify most things. Knowing this, they’ll just honour the reaction in themselves, hear others out, and then move on…
But at the same time, on the surface, there are those who have influence. Those who talk the loudest, are heard the most often, who create for themselves a/the reality, who draw up how things supposedly are. For years, following the departure of the British forces, this country’s airwaves were dominated by pious rhetoric. That was the influence. While in their hearts people might have felt one thing, they lived another. They conformed. For the last 15 or 20 years in this country, a liberalising media and artistic set has slowly worked to blow open the leaden doors of that previous Catholic-driven piety and intolerance. Thank God for that!
And yet…
And yet now that we’ve pretty much achieved this, what now for those whose energy was so caught up in that struggle, whose voices are no longer voices of resistance, but instead are of power and influence? Has it just become a habit, stuck in its leaning to one side, terrified of losing, terrified of giving up? Is the war with the mystics never over??!! Have the people over whom they wield influence really changed in their hearts because of these new, cultured and enlightened views, or are they actually still just the same, pious, sheep that they were 40, 50 years ago? Perhaps it is out of fear of such a thing that those, like David Norris, were trying to block the national station from broadcasting films he sees as biased, and in failing to do so rubbishing it rather unfairly? Are they losing sleep over this because they fear the clawing back, the putrifying return of the stale air of days gone by? Perhaps they’re losing sleep over the seeming injustice to Cathal O Searcaigh, and reacting out of that fear, then come out with articles that ignore so comprehensively the calling of the heart, and with it the basic ability to see pain, and actually truly wish for its cessation. In this domain its (the fear’s) only method of self-justification seems to be to revert to tired broken record intellectual party tricks, such as: invocations of Oscar Wilde and Roger Casement; the Ancient Greeks and their ‘forward thinking’ approach to homosexuality, (while ignoring their particularly destructive take on war, conquest, and other (un)civil liberties); the positioning of self on a pedestal of deeper understanding of sexuality and the human heart; the condescending assurances of outmoded anti-maternal psychotherapeutic rhetoric, etc etc.
The majority of the population of this country are now more content than ever with the social freedoms of behaviour and self-expression that have been earned in recent times. What’s in their hearts may not be all that different than before, but at least there is more freedom to express it. They are eager to acknowledge the hypocrisies and intolerances of the past and move on in a manner that maintains the basic fabric of a life lived peacefully, lovingly, and with an implied attempt to grow and enjoy life without stepping on the toes of others, both young and old. That is to say, they choose to engage with life responsibly. In this, they unconsciously honour what has traditionally been seen as the feminine, merging with the masculine (which had dominated for too long!) Sexuality is a part of ourselves like any other, and in that sense, there is a consensus that the expression of one’s sexuality should take into account this basic premise of ‘responsibility’. Sex too is seen as being about dignity, caring, action, expression, firmness, gentleness. Those masculine and feminine traits that are integral parts of our being. That people don’t always reach such high expectations, is a given. We already know that. The same goes for anger, sadness, joy, revelry. Our freedom brings the need for responsibility in all domains, and this is our greatest challenge yet. But we also know there are limits to our flaws. And these limits aren’t just there to stop us from doing anything we might regret in the eyes of the public (or our mothers!!), but also to prevent harm being done to others, in particular the young. We’ve had enough of that in this country, and are working to prevent it continuing in the here and now.
And it is by such a mixture of life and world experience that the majority of the population is able to recognise when an ‘old codger’ has departed from the ‘codger’ and entered the domain of sex tourist. There is a scene in the movie where O Searcaigh dismisses an (implied) assertion that he may indeed be a ‘sex tourist’. But for the majority of us it was fairly pathetic, lame, tragic.
To say that male sexuality is somehow ‘repellent’ to women, namely Ní Chianán as a mother who is witness to some kind of boy’s club led by O Searcaigh, is neither here nor there. It just seems to come from a place of pain and defensiveness. Surely sexuality, like everything else, is about unity, intimacy?! Surely the fantasy games of two-way exploitation, while we all know it exists and that it sells, needs to be kept in the domain of play, and eventually left behind if we, as a species, are to ever really move on. Surely the argument that those Nepalese boys’ supposed exploitation of O Searcaigh on this two-way street, which implies that there was some measure of power equality, is in this day and age a tired excuse? It’s almost like the ‘oh, those women earn more in an hour than we do in a week’, argument. Doesn’t make it really and truly alright.
Central to the film is the tragedy of lives lived unskillfully. O Searcaigh and others can wax on about the vagaries, the unploughable depths of his oh so human heart. Meanwhile most of us others, with our equally unploughably deep human hearts, will get on with our lives as best we can, and rightfully feel cheesed off that so many intelligent people can say so much about themselves, and what they’ve constructed as life, and right and wrong, all the while drowning out the fact that those young fellas in Nepal are, most certainly, being exploited, paid off for sex, and in at least SOME of the cases, actually damaged. Most of us, who each faces our own flaws, will still, NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE SAYS, recognise that those boys were boys, that O Searcaigh constantly referred to them as such, that the verifying of their ages was in itself pretty suspect, that ‘Prem’ (the adopted son), was awfully young when he first met O Searcaigh, that there’s very little between a 13 year old and a 16 year old in real life experience terms, that the laws of consent are generally created so as to support the sexual development of young people as they grow into adulthood, and NOT as a source of demarcation for older people to play around with in their quest to satisfy their own urges, to quench the pain of their past loves lost for which they have never taken responsibility, or to create unconvincing definitions surrounding what’s acceptable (sex with a 16 year old, as a ‘pederast’ and sex with someone a mere 3 years younger as ‘paedophile’). Most people won’t engage with such relativistic theorising and will instead, by remembering back to their own youth, by looking at young people around them, by taking into account the poverty and the ‘innocence’ of those boys, and most importantly by looking into their hearts and bodies and instincts, surmise that it’s all very very dodgy, destructive, exploitative, and needs to be stopped!
Most people will see through the arguments of those who will try to tell them that their instincts are wrong, and come from a place not of wisdom or love, but instead a place of ‘maternal’ conditioning (and thus, presumably, repression/’castration’), and will come to the understanding that O Searcaigh’s speech and actions in that film echoe (in a clear manner one can’t fail to see/hear, regardless of Ni Chianán’s emphasis), the sort of activities engaged by the oh so human clergy in this country not so long ago.
Most people will laugh at the argument that the film was biased and should have been censored, blocked, prevented from being shown by RTE, when they’ve actually seen the film. They’ll recognise that what’s being said, what’s going on, and why, is as clear as day. They may not agree with everything Ni Chianán says, or they may agree with everything she says. But they’ll know that what happened, what was said, was pretty straight forward. They won’t need the ‘assistance of experts’ (David Norris, Irish Times, March 12th), to tell them that O Searcaigh is in trouble, in himself, and in the world. They’ll be surprised by Norris et al., because they’ll remember the determination of those very same people in opening RTE up from its early days of censorship and reticence, who spent years decrying the lack of free speech in this country. They’ll recognise the fact that there will always be somebody who’ll argue against any documentary being shown. That’s the way it is. Them’s the rules, and it was them rules you wanted.
Most will be able to see the wood from the trees. Most will feel some measure of sympathy for O Searcaigh. They won’t, in their hearts, demonise him, or frame any vitriolic tabloid headline around his image in their mind’s eyes. But they will also remember the awful situation he created in Nepal. They’ll remember his self-deluded, almost zealous, outlook on himself and the world. They’ll want to see him stopped. And when all is said and done, mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters alike, will for the most part come away thinking about those many boys and the unenviable situation into which O Searcaigh, with his big western wallet and sad hungry eyes, has put them. They’ll know, deep down, that those boys’ hearts, minds and bodies, would probably have been better off without him. People who have welcomed the liberalising of this society, the opening up of institutions and ideas, which has the result of raising our young people to have a knowledge of what’s appropriate and what’s not with regard to people two generations older than them, will inevitably stop short of coming to some gentle understanding of why someone who was a participant in the great clearing of the cobwebs, so readily runs to the hills of Kathmandu in search of casual sex with countless teenagers, most of whom are virgins.
O Searcaigh’s ‘hamartia’ was not so much that he was too trusting. It was more that he identified completely with his own broken heart, and indulged the fantasy of pain, exploitation, and expressed it in a world of other people, far, far, from home. The dark-haired boy of his youth, who didn’t love him back but loved, instead, women, was ever-present in this expression. But again, as with the girl who stole this love of his youth, it is a woman who spoils his fantasy. This awful castrating mother!!
While remembering all of this, all of the inner noise of self, what he seemed to forget on a deep level, was that these boys also had hearts, and feet of clay. Addicted to his own pain, and to the sampling and tasting of innocence and yet fearing the pollution of these (mostly?) virgins by that very pain, he was engaging in a process of serial repetition of that one act, on and on and on, to the next boy, and the next, never satisfied, never happy, all the while convincing himself of its inherent good. He was the stranger offering sweets, but despite his intelligence, couldn’t see that for himself. And all the while this pain of his was being spread from heart to young heart. With all of his talents he managed to cover up (to himself at least) the fact that what he was doing had so little to do with love, and so very much to do with form, (both material and imaginative); age, colour, build, looks, lack of wealth, the conquest of sexual innocence.
There’s very little else about this film. It’s incredibly sad. I too lost sleep. Apparently for different reasons. But then again, maybe not…
Dermod, it seems to me your point of view is coloured by your own teenage experiences with older men. Are you defending Cathal Ó Searcaigh, or yourself?
Anna,
What else do we have to go on but our own experience, our own knowledge of life? And no, I’m not defending Cathal Ó Searcaigh, because the film-maker’s lack of balance in the film means I am not clear in my own mind what has happened. It’s a matter of perspective. Neasa Ní Chianán’s perspective, so heavily (and inevitably) influenced by her own experience, her own knowledge of life, is one that does not enable me to understand for myself what went on in Kathmandu. As for defending my own experiences as a young man, some were good, some were bad; they were what they were. I was then, and am able now, to discern a positive experience from a negative one, to decide who were the good men, and who weren’t so good. It is precisely the memories of those experiences that draw me into this sorry saga; because I care very much about the welfare of young people coming to terms with sexuality. (I did, after all, help set up the first gay youth group in Ireland, when I was 17). I recognise that at that crucial, liminal time, sex can be disturbing and diminishing, and yet it can also be life-enhancing and positive. The fact that people are so keen to dismiss the latter possibility is what is exercising me now. Again, I repeat, Ó Searcaigh still has to account for himself specifically on the issue of exploitation, whether his philanthropy was conditional on sexual favours.
What I feel from reading your article, is that you feel, if you state Cathal was wrong, and his actions were wrong (on a moral level), that you are then stating what happened to you as a teen is wrong, which clearly you do not agree with.
You have to remember, the experience for a teen who is a founder member of an Irish gay group, from a fairly progressive society (compared to Nepal), and a presumably fairly affluent background (roof over your head, furniture in your house), with an older gay man of similar wealth, is clearly totally different to the experience of a Nepalese teen, living in a culture where homosexuality is illegal, from a very poor background, no real prospects, who is being given expensive gifts (or even the hope of a gift) by a man who wishes to have sex with him, or has already had sex with him.
The point is, they are not equal in any way. Those teens are vulnerable, and whether it was a teen in Nepal sleeping with an older man to receive gifts/money, or a teen in Ireland, who was homeless and vulnerable, having sex with an older man to have a roof over their head, both are wrong because the equality does not exist. If a gay teen can make an informed decision to explore their sexuality, fine. But this is not an informed decision, this is a decision that could be made with no thought of sexual orientation, but only thoughts of money and prospects. And that is where the problem lies.
As a side-note, I think whether Cathal states that he promised gifts/money for sex or not is irrelevant. The fact is, some boys that he had sex with, also received gifts/money. So it is not unreasonable to presume, that the next boy, having seen this, might have sex with him in the hope of receiving money, even if none was explicitly promised.
I agree with your point that Cathal O’Searcaigh has been badly treated, I think that regardless of the opinion that anyone holds on what happened he should not be dragged through the mud in public the way he has been. Neasa Ní Chianáin’s portrayal of herself as oblivious to his actions throughout the film is hard to swallow too and I think you’re right to draw attention to that.
However, I think that your comments regarding the incomprehension of Cathal’s actions as being somehow related to the difference between male and female sexuality is somewhat biased. Perhaps this is inevitable when we speak about sexuality as we can only draw on our own experience of it when trying to define what ’sexuality’ is. But I think that it’s important to be open to other people’s concepts of sexuality within the arena of mutual consent. Your comments on female sexuality were dismissive and tinged in places with something approaching disdain.
As it is important to attempt to understand Cathal O’Searcaigh and the experience of the young men in the film it is also important not to replace one misinterpretation with another.
I’m gratified by the depth of thinking in these comments, really.
Forgive me if I don’t answer every point, I’m short of time. Ciarán’s essay is wonderfully written. I think we just have to agree to disagree.
Anna, Ireland was in no way progressive in 1979/80 when it came to gay people!
I’ve addressed some of the valid points you raise in an article coming out in tomorrow’s Irish Times.
Bridget, what you read as “disdain” towards women’s sexuality is actually the reverse: a protest against the disdain Ní Chianán has displayed towards Ó Searcaigh’s sexuality. If she had been more curious about his cruising “lifestyle” from the beginning she (and we) would be a lot wiser about it. I am trying to understand why she avoided grasping the nettle until it was too late, and attribute it, perhaps unfairly, to her own self-disclosure that she was nursing at the time. I have been roasted over the coals by my women friends for that.
But if it’s not that, then what else explains her naivete?
long before westerners began travelling east there have been ritual practises of female consorting – cruising could be seen as a contemporary take on it , denuded of ceremonial ritual and rite , not exclusively gay territory.
but just as the ‘girl for usa dollar ‘ ”rest and recuperation” program to facilitate us soldiers was too much revenue for the thai government to resist during the vietnam war, cathals ‘dollars’ will draw boys to him in nepal not because they are trying to become the gay men they think they may be ,in all cases, but for the money .
for some its to pay school fees , for others – daily subsistence in a country that has a poor record with enforcement of the law that states it is a criminal offence to have sex with a minor. Some 10 000 girls are sold into the sex trade in nepal every year. many boys who reinvent them selves as lady boys do so for the money not to express their sexuality necessarily.
the issue of their age is dubious as many young people lie about their age and some of the really disadvantaged uneducated children on the streets dont know their own age
when you ask them .did he ask – who checked for him? i learned this when i filmed in bangkok some years ago and i asked boys how old they were for my records. they didnt know , they didnt know what year they were born , they were lied to by relatives to facilitate sale for sex very often.
i filmed with sex workers their parents communities and outreach programs. what struck me about the young people – m/f -
who sought out these relationships with wealthy western men was their ambivalence about sex and their sexuality. several lady boys were happy to divulge that they went with men because it paid more – and they had no other prospects at that time.they were not gay they said and some of them had girlfriends. sex was business – a first step on
the ladder to economic security.
i marvelled at the sight of western tourists sitting at lap dancing clubs with their toddlers strapped into their buggies after dark- as little girls of seven or eight ran around with armfuls of rose stems , performing childish acts of erotic dancing when pressed by a group of educated western business men to do so before they would buy their flower stems and
it is not hard to imagine that many of the boys cathal o searchaigh initiated into their own ‘deflowering’ could begin a journey that would end sadly, passing from man to man .only
a very smart few manage to exploit it for improving their lives.
if cathal o searchaigh wants to cruise – well and good , but leave the charity work to people who arent going to sexually compromise these young people
he has sent mixed messages out by his actions – no wonder his friend neasa was confused .
he will have confused the locals in terms of what is expected in return for ”charity ”
and he has been able to do so because of his privileged position. When you have a government minister making representations on your behalf to arrange visas usually reserved for travelling diplomats on state business to bring your 19 year old ‘friend’
home you will be very self assured abroad.
i am not anti gay or a prude but i think he exploited his situation.
Joanna,
I can’t disagree with anything you say there, except I don’t think any of the boys concerned think they are gay. It’s a Western cultural identity that is only recently emerging in Nepal in small numbers.
I also don’t know whether his charity was conditional on having sex; if he discarded those he “deflowered” then he could indeed, as you say, have started them on a very dark journey indeed. He has sent out mixed messages, he has of course confused the locals.
I imagine the comparisons you made in your opening were very carefully chosen although you seem to fall short of saying you believe he was treated badly because he’s gay. Do you?
Putting the age, gender and ethnicity of his conquests aside for one minute. I would be just as uncomfortable of what went on if it had transpired that he was sleeping with poor or homeless women in Dublin, whom he had gained the acquaintance of by buying them food and expensive clothes.
It’s a fair point that the boys shown in the film, the ones who were hurt and confused at their treatment, only represent a small portion of the people he has slept with and their feelings may not be indicative of them all. But to write off their hurt and anger as the reaction of a jilted lover, or worse, an eagerness to give Westerners whatever reaction or comment they’re looking for is plain ignorant.
Your piece seems so keen to blame everyone but the man himself. There’s no question that others come out of the work looking less than perfect but you seem very willing to use this fact as some kind of alibi for Ó Searcaigh himself.
No, I don’t believe he was treated badly because he was gay.
In the case of this hypothetical man sleeping with poor or homeless women in Dublin – I’d be interested in finding out how those women felt about their relationship with him, how contact with him affected their lives. Did they feel cheapened and used? Did they welcome his presence in their lives? And I’d be so curious as to what that man thought of their reasons for sleeping with him.
At what age can a young man speak of his sexual life in terms of having had a lover who hurt his feelings? 16? 18? 20? Does being poor deny him the right to frame the experience in that context? Does having been given gifts or money disallow him from seeing it in that light? Must he always be deemed a victim, due to the circumstances of his birth, and the choices he made?
My piece offered balance to the debate that seemed to me to be very one-sided. It is time that Ó Searcaigh spoke for himself, for anyone criticizing this film seems now to be assumed to be his defender. The longer he remains silent, the more it seems he has something to hide, and those of us who want to establish the truth, see the bigger picture, and establish a context for his behaviour are in danger of being hung out to dry.
In that case the comparisons you chose were unfortunate as I certainly got the impression that they were made to try and create a common thread of homosexuals being unfairly persecuted.
The questions you raise about my hypothetical situation are interesting and it would certainly be great to get honest answers to them all – as it would in this very real situation. However if the Nepalese are as obliging to Westerners as you suggest then they’ll just tell you what you want to hear, be you Ní Chianán looking for you to appear in her film saying how hurt you are or Ó Searcaigh looking for you to appear on a DVD saying how happy you are.
In my eyes when a relationship founded on such financial reliance is sexualised – especially in a situation where one side nearly feels automatically inferior to the other on the basis of their ethnicity – it has crossed a moral line. It is an abuse of power and a lack of the professionalism you’d expect from someone who raised money under the banner of charity.
I feel Ó Searcaigh’s actions are far more extreme given a number of forces which simultaneously enhanced his dominance in the relationship and brought questions to his motives but I feel it is morally on the same spectrum as a teacher sleeping with his student – perhaps at different ends.
You’ll also note that I don’t say a poor 16 year old is incapable of being a jilted lover, I merely state that writing their hurt off as such is ignorant and even irresponsible.
I feel your piece adds little more than a Fox News brand of balance – that is the logic that an imbalanced argument will counter-balance an imbalanced argument. In reality it does not and it only adds to the damage made to the topic.
Dermot: “In the case of this hypothetical man sleeping with poor or homeless women in Dublin – I’d be interested in finding out how those women felt about their relationship with him, how contact with him affected their lives. Did they feel cheapened and used?”
I feel Dermot, that you are making an arguement in favour of teenage prostitution at this point. You seem to think its ok for a teen, male or female, to have sex with an older man in the hope of money or some equivalent gesture, and that this is not exploitation unless the teen makes a full statement that they do indeed feel exploited and used (as of course, they already did in O Searcaigh’s case).
If that is your arguement, I really feel this topic should be ignored. I for one, do not wish to give a forum or offer a debate for that kind of thinking.
Adam,
The comparisons I made were more to do with the scorn and hostility that a sexual man who has sex outside of relationship has to face. The more a person is invested in aspirational notions of how sex should be, ie only part of a loving monogamous relationship, the more the reality of sex, in all its manifestations, is seen as an odious threat. I put this in an archetypal context, Hera versus Priapus, because we all of us have a bit of Hera in us, and a bit of Priapus. (Women have testosterone too.)
The context of the interviews with the youths has to be taken into account – one of them, as I’ve said, Nareng, was told by Ramesh the Hotel Manager just prior to talking to Ní Chianán that Ó Searcaigh was a bad man and he’d never see him again because he never kept in touch with those he met in Kathmandu. This matters enormously.
“In my eyes when a relationship founded on such financial reliance is sexualised – especially in a situation where one side nearly feels automatically inferior to the other on the basis of their ethnicity – it has crossed a moral line.”
The Nepalese would be outraged at the notion that their ethnicity “feels” automatically inferior to the West. How colonial can you get? And yes, I agree, in those circumstances a moral line has been crossed. Ó Searcaigh needs to defend himself against exactly that charge.
Yes, it is the moral equivalent of a teacher sleeping with his student. Then, if it happens, has the teacher made sleeping with him/her a condition of getting good grades? Has it been coercive and a manifestation of outright sadistic exploitation? I may be too morally relativistic for some to enquire into shades of culpability, being still curious after someone has broken the first rule to ascertain just out how bad it got, but that’s because human nature is far from black and white.
I’m not writing the hurt of a 16-year-old off – I’ve said more than once that Ó Searcaigh needs to apologise to those he has hurt. I have asked many more questions in my Irish Times piece today, of Ó Searcaigh. I think the considered opinion of the youths themselves needs to be taken into account.
I also would like to ask the question – how many of us would like our own reactions to our first sexual experience, especially one that was disturbing and/or confusing, be put in a film? Hands up?
Anna
I’m not in favour of teenage prostitution – I’m asking if the boys themselves felt they were prostituting themselves. Nareng, whose testimony in Fairytale says exactly that, now claims differently.
But, strangely enough, if this story was about Ó Searcaigh’s nightly visits to a brothel where he paid the boys he had sex with €2 a “boogie” – I would still care about their hurt feelings, I would still be interested in how they felt about their customer, whether he treated them well or was cruel to them, I would still respect them enough to want to hear their stories and how they felt about poverty, how they felt about Westerners, and this eccentric Irishman in particular, and whether they were content with their lot. I would not dare to judge them because of the choices they’ve made. But, in those circumstances, it would be far easier to evaluate Ó Searcaigh. Of course there is no evidence that he paid prostitutes – the question is about a man with wealth who dispenses it freely and who then has sex with some of the recipients; the complexity of that, the moral ambiguity of that, the confusion of that.
Well the tone with which you state you would like to hear about their experiences now, differs a lot from your earlier tone, that you would like to hear more in order to determine whether Cathals actions were right or wrong.. in general I think your opinion is a bit more qualified than when you first started (and in the Irish Times article).. and I must admit, I am taking on board one point you have made, about the boys being shown on tape, I feel like maybe taping their voices and not giving their identity to the general public would have been better, or some approach that kept them safe, as I have to wonder, if homosexuality is illegal in Nepal, does this mean these boys have committed a crime? A crime that there is now taped evidence of?
And I suppose this is one of the questions that should be followed up on, and answered, so I do see what you mean about there being a lot of loose ends to tie up, or explain, so to speak.. but I do really disagree with you that if the teen didn’t find the experience traumatic, that it is ok, or right.. it still isn’t in my mind, for the reasons I explained earlier. If he had not brought money into the whole thing, perhaps your arguement would stand up, but he confused the issue. And I can 100% agree with this statement you made:
“the question is about a man with wealth who dispenses it freely and who then has sex with some of the recipients; the complexity of that, the moral ambiguity of that, the confusion of that.”
And I suppose there is no harm in attempting to see this issue from every angle, I’m glad people are talking, unfortunately as is always the case in Ireland, it takes a scandal for us to tackle any difficult moral issue head on and just talk about it.
Anna,
Of course my opinion has qualified over the weeks – I can’t see how it could not, in this particular saga. The way the film has been made, a personal narrative rather than an objective study, means that there are far too many questions left unanswered.
I am NOT saying that a teen finding something traumatic is OK, or right – far from it. I am saying that context is all – Nareng explains that just prior to his interview, he had been told that his newfound friend was a “bad man” who would never be in touch with him again. The hurt we see is real – but the way this documentary is made means it is impossible to evaluate it properly.
It would be very useful to do a poll with 16 – 18 year olds , the subjects
of pederast affections, and let them decide whether Pederastic Cruising
is a dimension of our sexual culture to be normalised defended and facilitated
both here and abroad.
If polled – what would the consensus be…. Did anyone ask them ??
Would they agree with Pauline Bewick – that Pederasty will soon
be considered normal ? Have they even heard of the term –‘ pederast’
as opposed to paedophile..? How should a parent explain a pederast s advances to their 16 year old ?
Should they say it is perfectly fine to have consensual sexual/physical relations
with Mr X, age 40 – 55 , once they have their homework done and use a condom/bring the morning after pill and a months scribe of PREP…?
”Its okay to go out and ‘play’ ….’sport’ is good for you..? ”
Should we put all girls on the pill and vaccinate them against cervical
cancer, the latest ‘AIDS defining illness’ on the CDC list – as is being lobbied for- crazily- with huge injections of ‘advocacy’ from gay/straight spokespeople within the AIDS awareness/prevention lobby in the USA and UK?
Should we start all gay/ msm cruisers on pre exposure prophylaxis anti virals
for HIV/AIDS- lobbied for also within the gay community in the USA and like so
many things exported worldwide through USA dominance in Research?
These pharma driven policies are now the new vanguard in progressive sexual
healthcare driven forward by the liberal agenda when there is nothing liberal or progressive about it.
In every study with youth a large proportion of young people did not understand how to protect themselves against STDs or AIDS let alone negotiate safe sex .It may be developmentally appropriate in contemporary societies where the contemporary risks of disease and infection are more widely publicised,but it is not
the case in regions like Nepal or even rural Ireland.
I find it incredible that Minister Hanafin could make a representation on O Searchaighs behalf to use a facility reserved for diplomats to approve visas to a ‘friend’ of his – when women and children are being deported back to the threat of genital circumcision and ethnic violence and pregnant hiv positive women are being deported back to uncertain
medical care after being ram rodded through testing procedures here . We can have a case
where a desperately ill african mother of three who has spent all of her time volun
teering in our community and striving to really be an upstanding public citizien, swallow razor blades before being put on a flight out of our arrogant island nation , and no one will use their
diplomatic ”discretion” to come to her assistance.
But we wouldnt want to be seen to be setting precedents for ‘that kind of thing”..
You are splitting hairs with your key questions and Cathal O Searchaigh s sheer arrogance in all of this will make people judge him unfairly I think.
The only thing I would agree with is that Neasa and her producers lose some
credibility by exposing the boys identities , but Cathal did not think of this either
when he invited her to be an observer .
I read the piece in The Irish Times Saturday.I think a feature on Pederasty- boylove- would probably be of great benefit to the un initiated public along with some links to good sources
of further reading . Wikipedia has a good intro on it and I show my ignorance of it by not
having read on the subject enough to know that it refers only to boys . But I notice on a
couple of forums that there seems to be an assumption that Pederasty is age related , not
boylove. Oscar Wilde may not be the best example of its purest form
Julianna,
Asking the 16-18 year olds in Kathmandu what they think of sleeping with an older man? Excellent idea. That’s what I’d like to know. A rigorous documentary would have asked about this aspect of life, to put Ó Searcaigh’s lifestyle in perspective. Not that that would get him off the hook in terms of the ethics of what he has done – but on a human level, it would help to clarify the overall context.
As to how a parent should explain a pederast’s advances to their sixteen year old – last year a 14 year old boy went online and managed to get men to have sex with him. I have written about how I cannot forgive those men for having done so, because a couple of good men, when they met him face to face, sent him home. If only children were taught about sex so they could be prepared, so they could talk about it, so they could make sense of it for themselves. The internet has meant that the frequently proposed argument that Ó Searcaigh would not have been welcomed hanging around schools in Ireland is redundant – schoolchildren are online, now, looking for sex. Although I do not believe that there was a “paedophile ring”, ie conspiracy to seek underage children, as was alleged at the time.
You assume that my attempt to explain the phenomenon is an attempt to normalise pederastic cruising. When I was 17, a well-known “chickenhawk” used to hang around outside the youth group, sending messages in to me saying he’d like to meet me; he made my blood run cold, and I refused to speak to him, ever. However I also went out with a few older men and I look back on one with immense fondness, and the other with a broken heart. That’s life. No different to many other people, I would suggest.
Education about sex is not about being permissive, it’s about empowering young people to make informed decisions. Keeping children ignorant does not help them cope with the perils out there, it disempowers them. I think we agree on that? Giving young people condoms or prophylaxis comes nowhere near intelligent reflective discussion on the perils and pitfalls of sex.
I don’t believe I’m splitting hairs – I’m trying to understand the context in which all this occurred.
I’m no pederast, but I know it exists and that it’s not necessarily the evil that people assume it to be. Since I turned 40, I have realised that my age is a turn on for some young men, which is flattering, but not really my thing. I do not have a queue of young men ready to complain about their experiences with me, and I would be deeply ashamed to think there was.
Oscar Wilde may not have been a pederast in the entirety of his sexual expression, he was bisexual after all, but it was “feasting with panthers”, the young rent boys, that was his undoing.
The comparisons I made were more to do with the scorn and hostility that a sexual man who has sex outside of relationship has to face. The more a person is invested in aspirational notions of how sex should be, ie only part of a loving monogamous relationship, the more the reality of sex, in all its manifestations, is seen as an odious threat. I put this in an archetypal context, Hera versus Priapus, because we all of us have a bit of Hera in us, and a bit of Priapus. (Women have testosterone too.)
I just found it interesting that the cases you compare all involved hostility based around the fact that these relationships were homosexual rather than simply “outside of relationship”.
The context of the interviews with the youths has to be taken into account – one of them, as I’ve said, Nareng, was told by Ramesh the Hotel Manager just prior to talking to Ní Chianán that Ó Searcaigh was a bad man and he’d never see him again because he never kept in touch with those he met in Kathmandu. This matters enormously.
Assuming that is the case then it is important and I’m not dismissing the idea that the words spoken were based somewhat or even entirely in the hurt felt by a jilted lover. I don’t think that other possibilities should be dismissed as quickly as you have and I don’t think we should base our assumptions on Ó Searcaigh’s DVD any more than Ní Chianán’s.
The Nepalese would be outraged at the notion that their ethnicity “feels” automatically inferior to the West. How colonial can you get? And yes, I agree, in those circumstances a moral line has been crossed. Ó Searcaigh needs to defend himself against exactly that charge.
By saying that Nepalese people feel automatically inferior to Westerners I am just echoing your claim that “the Nepalese are obliging to Westerners, whom they see as gods.”
If you believe that sentiment to be colonial then you should admonish yourself before you dare scold me.
Yes, it is the moral equivalent of a teacher sleeping with his student.
I didn’t say it was equivalent, I said it was comparable. In my opinion it’s on the same scale but at the more extreme end of it.
Then, if it happens, has the teacher made sleeping with him/her a condition of getting good grades? Has it been coercive and a manifestation of outright sadistic exploitation? I may be too morally relativistic for some to enquire into shades of culpability, being still curious after someone has broken the first rule to ascertain just out how bad it got, but that’s because human nature is far from black and white.
I’ve no problem with finding out the extent of the wrong, as long as it’s not at the expense of the reaction to the original wrong. Even if Ó Searcaigh didn’t explicitly tell these people the gifts he gave them was in return for sex, or threaten to withdraw them should they not oblige, I still feel he has committed a wrong that should never have happened regardless.
I’m not writing the hurt of a 16-year-old off – I’ve said more than once that Ó Searcaigh needs to apologise to those he has hurt. I have asked many more questions in my Irish Times piece today, of Ó Searcaigh. I think the considered opinion of the youths themselves needs to be taken into account.
To an extent, of course. But if they are convinced or convince themselves that no wrong was done, should that be the end of it?
I also would like to ask the question – how many of us would like our own reactions to our first sexual experience, especially one that was disturbing and/or confusing, be put in a film? Hands up?
Very few, I imagine and it’s a fair point. It’s a separate one from the wrong committed by Ó Searcaigh, however. As I’ve said already – there’s plenty wrong with the documentary but that shouldn’t deflect attention from what it revealed.
i dont believe you are attempting to normalise all forms of either paedophilia or pederasty and i do not think it is cast in stone that the union of a youth with an older man or woman is – immoral , psychologically damaging or deviant criminal behaviour – whether or not it is legal by the laws of the land.
I think it is worrying that a bunch of o searchaighs friends could travel to nepal and also
video these boys on such a serious issue when it was under gardai investigation – between neasa s expose and the dvd you have to wonder about the
freedom with which amateurs roam abroad to third world countries to construct ‘truth ‘.There seems to have been little respect for due process . That it could be distributed to the media pending a gardai investigation and a child welfare investigation is surprising .
i dont think that these boys will be able to form an independent perspective of what
they were participants in until they are much older.
i think the last thing any youth wants is to be branded as is damaged. But if the nepalese
report , now completed, holds up claims of trauma, it will be much more damaging for these
boys if nothing is done about it – having been dragged over the coals themselves.
I think O Searchaigh is in a very difficult situation now because even if he has broken the law without intending it as such , he will not wish to criminalise the boys in nepal for consenting to homosexual sex – illegal there until recently.
Also how on earth can you raise 50,000 euros and not be a registered charity ??
I think I’m going to have to close comments on this page soon – it’s been a very interesting discussion and very thought provoking. Thanks to all contributors.
“I don’t think we should base our assumptions on Ó Searcaigh’s DVD any more than Ní Chianán’s.” – No, I agree, I think people should see both DVDs, and make up their own minds.
The “Westerners seen as gods” line came from the film. That says something about Nepalese culture, about which I’d like to learn a lot more. There is something about investing individual westerners with qualities of the sacred/divine which I don’t imagine is the equivalent of a Nepalese believing his/her culture is inferior to the Western one. I can’t imagine, for example, all Westerners are seen as gods. I need to find out more, point taken.
“But if they are convinced or convince themselves that no wrong was done, should that be the end of it?”
Who else is to decide?
Joanna,
The DVD that his friends in Kathmandu produced was made by themselves and recorded on a camera that was lent to them by a friend of Liam Gaskin’s, I think, who happened to be in the country for a wedding. It is very amateur and unedited and repetitive.
“i dont think that these boys will be able to form an independant perspective of what they were participants in until they are much older.”
I would say two years is enough time, really.
OK, I’m closing this page at the end of the day. Thanks again.
“But if they are convinced or convince themselves that no wrong was done, should that be the end of it?”
Who else is to decide?
To put it in very extreme terms, in many cases victims of abuse at home do not realise what they’re experiencing is unusual and often accept it as a fact of life. Of course them being convinced that what they suffer is normal doesn’t make this assumption a reality.
Just like it’s not up to Ó Searcaigh to decide if what he does is right or wrong, it’s not up to his partner(s) either.
Typo – my apology and my last post here. On fundraising …which every second sinner is doing these days unofficially.Two little hucksters aged seven and eight came to my door armed with
a soggy bundle of very bad drawings and appealed to me to ”buy a few for the poor” .
Which I did . However it transpired that the whole thing was a hoax to buy sweets
for the easter break and poverty is obviously relative in their eyes.
My son and his friend spilled the beans , the young hucksters being one boys relatives.
it apparently netted them 34 euros they told me in righteous indignation . I suspect they got the idea from the media as we are gripped by celebrity fundraising fever in recent years. it needs more regulation or we will have seasoned criminals everywhere – if you take a purely legalistic view.
Adam,
Of course, in those extreme terms, you are absolutely right. No quibble there. But I don’t think even the film maker is accusing him of that level of abuse.
“Just like it’s not up to Ó Searcaigh to decide if what he does is right or wrong, it’s not up to his partner(s) either.”
Between consenting adults, it’s none of anyone’s business. But of course, that brings us back to the notion of consent, the difference in wealth and age and … we could go on and on for ever on this.
Adam,
Of course, in those extreme terms, you are absolutely right. No quibble there. But I don’t think even the film maker is accusing him of that level of abuse.
No, I don’t think they are which is why I gave it as an extreme example of how the subject’s attitude to an event should not be the basis for the legal or moral reaction of others. It not being the same level of abuse is not the point of my example – the fact that the subject of an event can be just as blinkered is.
Between consenting adults, it’s none of anyone’s business. But of course, that brings us back to the notion of consent, the difference in wealth and age and … we could go on and on for ever on this.
I agree, but I don’t think the subjects were in a position to properly consent here. That’s based more on the subordinate nature of the role they played in the relationship than their age – although that aspect in itself is reason enough.
May I also say that it’s unfortunate to see you close the comments here – I don’t think it does much to aid the complex debate that you apparently had wished to engage in and add to.
Adam,
My inclination is to close comments because of the hours and hours I’ve spent on this – and, yet I’m not trying to avoid a debate. At some stage, I’ve got to draw a line under this. 30 comments so far – this is an extremely large amount of material for anyone to read in one go, in one page. I’m sure there’ll be more opportunities to bring all this up again when Ó Searcaigh finally breaks his silence, or if the guards press charges.
At some stage, we have to decide when a young man’s own perception of his experience is valid, and give him a fair opportunity to express it, if he wishes to, and if he’s fully aware of the consequences of doing so on film. This of course could still be a statement that he considers himself damaged and abused, or one stating that he is happy with the choices he made, as Nareng has done, two years after filming ceased in Kathmandu. Denying him his self-definition is patronising and emasculating. Where do we draw the line though?
“The subject of an event can be just as blinkered” – that is true of us all. Lover, rich patron, poor youth, film-maker, viewer. The observer of an event, like a film maker, can also be blinkered, or see things from a particular perspective. When a film maker chooses to present her evidence in a way that doesn’t fairly offer alternative perspectives to hers, she is asking of her viewers that we trust her, inviting us to accept her values. When such a sensitive and complex matter is given such a personalised approach, it becomes problematic.
The subordinate nature of the youths’ role with Ó Searcaigh does indeed influence things, and if in that dependence on him they felt coerced or obliged to have sex with him then he does have a hell of a lot to answer for. But after all this time, and all those years of film-making, we still aren’t any closer to having an answer to this.
Alright, alright, comments back open here. I’m not afraid of debate, I’m just weary of it. That’s no pretence or spin. The level of hatred, fierce judgmentalism and animosity over this issue is hard to stomach. However, in respect to the people who have contributed reasonably to this thread and wish to continue, here you go.
Adam, you say here that “The experiences and opinions of Ó Searcaigh’s partners are valid in this issue but they are not what a society, community or judicial system should base their opinions and actions upon.”
To follow your logic, should there be a law that declares intergenerational sex is illegal? Or that prohibits sex between rich and poor?
“At no point did I suggest that the Nepalese boys’ experience is invalid or worthless to the debate and for you to suggest this is a complete distortion of my point – I’m not worried, though, people can read what I said for themselves.”
And people can read what I said too: “Denying him his self-definition is patronising and emasculating. Where do we draw the line though?” It wasn’t about you directly, it’s about those who hint/suggest that, for example, Nareng’s re-evaluation of his experience two years later, is tainted by association and not to be believed.
Someone called “In my grumble opinion” wrote here a long comment about how he has found my stance worrying and troubling.
Grumble: “people rushing to defend Ó Searcaigh may come to regret doing so”.
I may end up criticising Ó Searcaigh severely, if I have a sense that I’ve got to the root of the issue, if I have enough information, if I have a sense of the context, if I’ve heard enough from the young men to give me an understanding of the role he played in their lives. When he gives his side of the story, and he will, then we’ll all be in a better position to judge.
Grumble, about me: “And I think he is also clever enough to eventually mull over his own writings and wish to himself that before taking the debate in lots of interesting directions, he had first dealt firmly and squarely with the central issue … namely, that it is wrong to run the risk of hurting other people emotionally by having sex with them if you cannot be completely sure that they aren’t just doing what you want to curry favour with you – is it what they really want, too?”
Ó Searcaigh’s seeming lack of awareness about this is key, and he certainly needs to address this, as I said clearly in my first article. No contest. My “massive flaw”, apparently, is that I didn’t expand on that, emphasise it enough. Was it that I was wary of being part of a stone-throwing mob?
“Ultimately, we must wonder why so many people publicly defended Ó Searcaigh. I cannot imagine it happening in the press here in London.”"
As regards London – I imagine that one of the first items in the agenda in a production meeting at the BBC or Channel 4 about making a documentary about a single gay poet in the third world would be: “who’s he having sex with? How will we handle that?” The absence of that awareness has led us to the sorry state we’re in now.
I am quite prepared at some stage, if I have enough information, to say that Ó Searcaigh’s behaviour has been repugnant. I have written last year about how I “could not forgive” the men who had sex with the 14 year old who was looking for sex in Dublin on Gaydar. That, I hope, is clear enough for everyone.
When it comes to young men over the age of consent, my assumption is that they are not victims, unless it’s been against their will or a matter of coercion. I’ve said more than once that I want to know whether his generosity was conditional on sex – and that’s not merely whether he propositioned them, it’s whether or not it was generally accepted that they would have to have sex with him.
“I am still trying to work out why Dermod’s arguments have such a defensive tone. Dermod, could you please tell me more what you think is right and wrong when it comes to sexual relations – this is where the debate lies.”
My “defensiveness” is really an instinctive urge that, when there’s a public stoning, I will walk away from the crowd, and make up my mind for myself. Ask for more information, complain about how the information has been presented to me in such a one-sided way, and attempt to frame his “gay lifestyle” cruising defence in a way that I can digest.
Consensual sex between adults is not for me to judge. Poverty distorts everything, however. How much it has distorted things is something I’d really like to know.
Dermod, thanks for your reply, I appreciate you taking the time. I am less worried now that you have reiterated how keen you are to learn more about the connection between his generosity and the sex he was having. It is important that we digest the poet’s “seeming lack of awareness” and how it the situation came about in the first place. We are all probably a bit lazy when it comes to our decisions about what is ethically the best course (things we buy, flights we take, strip clubs we might visit on a stag do) – and i guess laziness is on the same spectrum as ignorance and foolishness.
I understand that what I interpreted as your defensiveness mostly came from a desire not be part of a mob judging the man on one source of information alone, and I respect your willingness to consider the story from lots of different perspectives. Not hearing and seeing the Irish press every day, I was not aware of the the mob you refer to – i was just surprised that so many people were jumping to defend Ó Searcaigh so quickly, without, as you agree, much more information.
I’m sure you have had enough of this debate for the time being, but let us know how your thinking evolves if you get more information.
Thanks grumble. A fairly comprehensive (but not exhaustive) set of links is here. Most prominently absent from the list of articles on the topic is the Daily Mail, whose website does not seemingly publish its Irish edition articles, as far as I can tell.
Conor McCabe is worth reading here.
Further developments here.
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Cathal Ó Searcaigh controversy continues…
I’ve mentioned the whole Cathal Ó Searcaigh fiasco before. Synopsis for people who haven’t been paying attention; documentary is aired showing that celebrated Irish-language poet likes to (a) give money to kids in Nepal and (b) allegedly shag kids …
[...] There’s a war of words going on over on Damien Mulley’s Blog about the coverage and spin given to the recent documentary on Cathal Ó Searcaigh. I haven’t seen the documentary in question, so I’m in no position to comment on how Mr Ó Searcaigh was presented or treated during the course of the film. However, I think it’s clear to everyone that some elements of the mainstream press are up in arms over what they perceive to be the unfair treatment of Mr Ó Searcaigh. [...]
[...] Dermod Moore wrote such an article in yesterday’s Times, seeking to deflect attention away from Cathal Ó Searcaigh and onto the film-maker. The article, which reminds me of the way the Catholic bishops derided and denied every report and suggestion of clerical sex abuse, has much in common with Cathal’s earlier self-pitying and self-exculpatory statement: Cathal’s template for all future apologists, including Dermod Moore. It has the same cynicism. The same manipulative intent. The same denial. The same menace. The same implied threats. Let’s examine a few things Dermod says. The collateral damage that has been caused, … is inestimable, leaving chaos and confusion in its wake, and a bitter polarisation. [...]
[...] already paid the price for an “appearance of collusion with ‘paedophile offenses’” when I heavily criticized the film “Fairytale of Kathmandu” and the way it portrayed Cathal Ó Searcaigh as a child [...]
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