Yom Saint Patrick’s Sona Dhuit!

 

As he walked though New York City to the synagogue for sabbath morning services, he stopped to visit a catholic Cardinal, and deliver gifts from the Archbishop of Dublin (including chocolates, rosary beads, and a glass bowl), and the cardinal assured him that his arrival was the most exciting event in some time.  When Briscoe remarked that he must away to synagogue, the Cardinal joked, “Be sure to leave all those Rosary beads here,” and both laughed genially.  He strolled the city, charming those he met, and even greeted NYPD officers with a “Top o’ the morning” to positive response. 

His reception in Boston is particularly interesting for the controversy around his inclusion at the head of the parade.  In the days leading up to his arrival, Fr. Leonard Feeney, an American Jesuit priest, leader of what would become known as “The Boston Heresy,” and editor of “The Point,” attacked the fact of his involvement, particularly because the parade was delayed a day for Briscoe’s arrival from Saturday to Sunday, to accommodate Mayor Briscoe’s inclusion in the New York City St Patrick’s Day parade. 

“The Catholics of Boston,” he explained, “have been instructed to hold off on their tributes to Saint Patrick until [the] anticipated Jew arrives to witness the proceedings.”  Though Feeney railed against Briscoe in the harshest of terms, what is most interesting about his vitriol is who he blames for the Irish Mayor’s Jewish heritage infringing upon the celebrations of Saint Patrick.  The fault, he explained did not lie with the native Irish, who elected Briscoe, because “the glaring historical truth of the matter is that only lately have the Irish ever seen a Jew. And although instructed by their Faith that the Jews are a perfidious and deicide race, the Irish have never had the lesson driven home for them the way the Poles and the French and the Italians and the Germans and the Spaniards have.”  So, he concludes, the guilt lies with American Jews, who claim to emphasize unity by demonstrating “that most fantastic of twentieth century myths: the notion that Jew and Christian can be hyphenated, that Christianity and Judaism are common foundations of a common culture…” 

 

In the week proceeding the event, the Fr. Feeney and his “Feeneyites” met on Boston Common, gathering a crowd of over 500 carrying images of Saint Patrick, six foot high crucifixes, and images of the Virgin Mary.  Speakers called Briscoe names (“kike,” “devil,” “Christ-hating Briscoe,” and “scrootch owl” among them), and ridiculed Catholic Boston for spoiling the holiday with the Dublin Jew at the head of the parade, allowing the Jews to attempt a “takeover” of the holiday.  They called for a curse on Briscoe, and shouts of “Heil Hitler” and Nazi salutes abounded when Feeney took the stage.³ 

The beauty in this story that counters such ugly accusations is in the earnest and undeniable triumph of the belief in harmonious unity across Boston.  Among Jewish, Catholic, and Irish populations, Bostonians rejoiced in the demonstration of Irish heritage and culture brought by the Jewish Lord Mayor from Dublin.  His reception among the Catholic majority in Boston was so positive, and his presence so appreciated, that when the Feeneyites next met (even the same public speakers) back at the Boston Common, they avoided any mention of Briscoe’s name or his successful visit to the city.   

Although his visit may not be remembered as particularly significant today, the visit of the Jewish Mayor of Dublin presented an example of patriotism and participatory citizenship of embraced national minorities that resonated with Americans of many backgrounds.  According to the Boston Globe, Briscoe was met with “the most extraordinary acclaim extended to a foreign visitor in recent memory,” and brought “a record 450,000 to the St. Patrick Day parade in South Boston.”⁴  Even among the Native American population he was honored during his visit, presented with a feathered headdress by the Southern Cheyenne Sioux Nation, making him an honorary chief.⁵  

Though his term as Lord Mayor ended after only one year, Briscoe, mayor of a city 3,000 miles away, had profound effect on the Irish and Jewish communities in Boston.  After leaving office, the Jewish Times remembered his impact, explaining that he had helped to bring greater understanding and more mutual respect between the communities, and “served to perfection his dual roles as a staunch and loyal Irishman and as a devout and religious Jew.”  The admiration and affection he garnered from the Jewish and Irish communities is evident in the language used to describe him.  He fulfilled his duties, the Jewish Times concluded, “with the twinkle and sparkle of the fabled leprechaun and the wisdom and sincerity of the sages of old.”⁶ 

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