Frank McNally: Welcoming Taoiseach finds hugs and kisses the first political pitfall at Dublin’s EPC summit

Not only was it the biggest security operation in the history of the State: for Micheál Martin, just welcoming so many foreign politicians to Dublin may also have been the greatest diplomatic challenge of the Taoiseach’s career.Even before the work began, he had to greet 50 world leaders individually, exuding warmth while also respecting cultural and personal differences, and above all bearing in mind that – as a now infamous video told us – not everyone wants a hug.Luckily, his repertoire of welcomes was extensive. In the case of the Icelandic prime minister, for example, and despite her chilly-sounding name – Kristún Frostadóttir – he opted for the continental-style kiss on both cheeks.But a minute later, when Liechtenstein’s PM Brigitte Hass arrived, there were no kisses – just a double hand clasp and lean-in, no less warm.READ MOREWith Mark Carney, it was a businesslike, single handshake. And manual contact apart, perhaps surprisingly with a man who came to Dublin bearing the message that Canada was “moving closer to Europe”, there was clear daylight between the Canadian prime minister and Martin at all times.Then there was Emmanuel Macron, who obviously hadn’t seen the online video campaign. He initiated a robust, two-arm hug with full chest contact, warmly reciprocated, and added an Irish-style slap on the back for the man he would later refer to as “Le Taoiseach”.The French president had breezed into the Convention Centre Dublin like he owned the place, pausing to point photogenically at the Triskel logo of the latest European Political Community gathering and say “C’est ca!” (“That’s it!”)This was a way of reminding us that the EPC was his initiative, established in response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine and now nine meetings old.By contrast with Macron, the day’s guest of honour, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, looked a little tense on arrival, as well the Ukrainian president might. But Martin greeted him with a warm double-handshake, and supportive pats on the arm.In his opening remarks to the world’s media, the Taoiseach spoke softly. But whether he also a carried a big stick was the subtext of several subsequent questions. One reporter wanted to know whether 50 leaders could realistically speak with one voice to Russia. Another asked whether the event was not just a very expensive “talking shop”. There were quite a few big sticks on show, as it happened, but of the kind held by broadcast journalists, and all had microphones attached to them.[ The traffic chaos is temporary. What happens this week in Dublin could have lasting impactOpens in new window ]For the hundreds of media, Irish and foreign, the day began in Croke Park, where via a tunnel under the Hogan Stand they underwent airport-type security, and then boarded special buses to the Convention Centre, in which they would remain for the duration of the event.It wasn’t quite a case of tunnelling into prison. But as it dawned on some of the day visitors that they might not see Dublin before flying out again last night, they were not all happy.The bus route took us past the birthplace of Brendan Behan who, before he became a famous writer, was a famous security threat, serving prison terms on both sides of the Irish Sea for militant activities.In passing, some of his rebellious spirit seemed to have infected the bus. “I’m not accepting that,” a Canadian journalist told his companion, after learning of the lock-in. “We’ve gotta break out at some point.” Irish Anti War Movement protest is held on O'Connell Street, Dublin, on Thursday, as the European Political Community meeting at the Convention Centre Dublin took place. Photograph: Dara Mac Dónaill/The Irish Times In fact, journalists could leave the Convention Centre at any point, although a garda had to escort you out of the “sterile zone” (where the only life forms without security clearance were a few worried-looking seagulls, wondering where all the chip-eating tourists had gone). But once out, the only way back in was via another trip to Croke Park. So most of the media opted to remain inside - even if, by mid-afternoon, some of us were mentally joining Behan on a chorus of The Auld Triangle.The event’s multilingualism caused some problems too – and not over the Irish that the Taoiseach broke into at one point in answer to one of the local reporters. That was respectfully heard out by the visitors. When Carney addressed his fellow Canadians in English and French, however, and didn’t always cover the same points in both, it led to tensions – at least when he spoke about Ukraine in French, then moved onto another subject, and didn’t backtrack.“Ukraine in English!” an anglophone Canadian pleaded in vain repeatedly at the end as the prime minister, who hadn’t heard him, strode off. Bereft of the soundbite he needed on the story of the day, the reporter muttered to a colleague: “We’re f***ed.”Even those who were reliving The Auld Triangle, meanwhile, could not complain about a hungry feelin’, thanks to the all-day catering operation. As well as the usual 100,000 welcomes being afforded to visitors, the organisers say they will serve “35,000 hot, sit-down meals” during the summit to political staff, press, police, and others. The best food, however, was being reserved for such events as Thursday night’s leaders’ dinner in the National Gallery of Ireland. Guests there were first promised a tour of the gallery by director Caroline Campbell, before sitting down in the Shaw Room to a banquet of wild Cork salmon, dry-aged Wicklow beef, and other delights. Liquid refreshment included a Réserve de Léoville Barton 2019: one of the labels famously founded by Ireland’s “Wine Geese” in France.The biggest painting looking down on them throughout was Daniel Maclise’s huge allegorical canvas, The Marriage of Strongbow and Aoife, depicting a high-security summit of 1170 that also involved overseas visitors. That one didn’t end so well, as the slain Gaelic chieftains and broken-stringed harp at the bottom of the picture hint.Omens for the latest summit are more positive, so far anyway. Among the other landmarks passed on the route between Croke Park and the convention centre was the church and national school of St Laurence O’Toole in Sheriff Street. The former Archbishop of Dublin (1128-1180) is known in France as “Laurent d’Eu” – not because he’s the patron saint of the European Union, but because he died at a place called Eu in Normandy. He was said to have been associated with so many miracles soon afterwards that he was fast-tracked to canonisation only 45 years later.But Laurent d’Eu seems doubly apt this week. His feast-day falls on Saturday, and a continuing association with apparently miraculous events may by then include having ensured unbroken sunshine for a two-day summit Dublin in mid-November. Thursday’s events took place under a sky of unbroken European blue. Friday’s forecast is for the same.