Ireland loves its strong women, as long as they’re dead or they never lived at all. It’s the walking, talking, breathing ones who are bothersome. There is hardly an Irish person who hasn’t heard of the sexually insatiable Queen Medb, famed for stealing her neighbour’s prized bull, or of Grace O’Malley, a real-life sea pirate, or of the darling of them all, Caitlín Ní hUallacháin, the mythical personification of Ireland.
Until a week ago, most people had never heard of Natasha O’Brien. The country had been going about its business contentedly thinking itself modern and progressive, unaware that a 22-year-old soldier had previously pleaded guilty in the circuit court to violently assaulting her. The 24-year-old had been walking home from her job in a Limerick pub when she happened upon Cathal Crotty yelling “faggot” at passersby on the city’s main street. When she asked him to stop, he punched her to the ground and punched her twice more until she blacked out. Then he ran away and gloated on Snapchat: “Two to put her down, two to put her out.”
