1916 (66 page)

T
HE COMMEMORATIVE PROCESS

The President’s speech

Given the centrality of the President in the debate over the Rising it is fitting that her comments be the point of departure for this section.
¹²
The address, which in keeping with protocol had been cleared with the Department of the Taoiseach,
¹³
began with a reference to the pitiful plight of many mothers in Ireland in 1916, whose sons were soon to die in appalling numbers ‘in some army’s uniform, in a formidably unequal country’, where women in particular had ‘no vote or voice’. The next part of the speech drew more attention, when the President invited her audience ‘to ponder the extent to which today’s freedoms, values, ambitions and success rest on that perilous and militarily-doomed undertaking of nine decades ago’, and on the words of the Proclamation. She suggested that the ‘long-term intellectual power’ of the Rising – with its promise of a free republic, committed to a ‘philosophy of equality and social inclusion in tune with the contemporary spirit of democracy, human rights, equality and anti confessionalism’ – had been initially and unfortunately overshadowed by its emotional legacy, but that in recent years this vision had come closer to realisation.

The response to the speech was mixed, albeit there was clear evidence of increased public support as the formal state commemorative ceremony came and went. To her critics the speech was ‘misguided’ and ‘anachronistic’, and ‘allowed her political enemies to question the sincerity of her reconciliation efforts towards unionists’. More trenchant criticism labelled it ‘deeply flawed and quite improper’ and ‘a surprisingly crude piece of myth-making, breath-taking in its revisionism of recent history’. One commentator invited the nation to be ‘ashamed’ of the President, while another went so far as to suggest that her words had ‘done dire damage to Irish democracy’.

Praise for the speech was expressed in calmer and ultimately rather more convincing tones. For the President’s admirers it was ‘difficult to overstate the importance, even profundity’ of her speech, which was ‘measured and constructive’ not least in its emphasis upon a ‘shared pride’ in the
valour of those Irishmen who fought in the various theatres of war in 1916. This ‘calm and considered objectivity’ ensured that ‘the inclusiveness she has voiced since her election’ had not been abandoned.
¹⁴

Two ideas put forward by the President proved particularly contentious. The first suggested that the administration of the country at the time of the Rising was ‘being carried on as a process of continuous conversation around the fire in the Kildare Street Club by past pupils of minor public schools’. ‘It was,’ she said, ‘no way to run a country, even without the glass ceiling for Catholics.’ The comment drew a response from several quarters, with the most considered analysis provided in several opinion pieces by Professor Paul Bew of Queen’s University Belfast.
¹⁵
He argued (within the evidential constraints imposed by the journalistic medium) that, contrary to the President’s claim, the British government had been appointing Catholics ‘to the most senior positions’ in the Irish administration since the 1830s.
¹⁶
Further, and taking his cue from a speech by John Dillon in the aftermath of the Rising, he argued that if the concept of government by members of the Kildare Street Club had any real meaning at the time of the Rising it was more as a consequence, rather than cause, of the event.
¹⁷
Both points should be read in light of Professor Bew’s broader, favourable assessment of the Redmondite tradition – which, he suggested, had simply, ungenerously, and unwisely been ignored by the President. There is much to commend this line of argument – in particular the pertinent observation that it had been the Liberal party that had governed Ireland during the decade prior to the Rising. It was, however, weakened by the absence of any reference to the creeping demoralisation of the Redmondite camp that was evident long before the Rising, or to the equally pertinent observation that, in spite of the claimed long-standing good government intentions, Catholics in 1916 remained excluded from the most senior positions in the Irish administration, the offices of lord lieutenant and chief secretary. Honours, on this point, seem to have been equally shared between the President and her critics.

The other principal focal point of dispute that arose from the President’s address was in response to her suggestion that the fact that the vast majority of nationalists were members of ‘a universal church’ (i.e. Roman Catholics) ‘brought them into contact with a vastly wider segment of the world than that open to even the most travelled imperial English gentleman’. This challenge to the paradigm that counter-pointed British cosmopolitanism and Irish Catholic parochialism sufficed to drive several of the President’s long-time critics into rhetorical paroxysms.
¹⁸
Few, however, addressed the substance of the claim in any sustained manner. Most merely either lamented what they saw as the deleterious consequences of the ‘hegemony’ of the Roman Catholic church in post-independence Ireland, or mis-interpreted the President’s comments to suggest that she had implied that Protestants were, in some respects, less than fully Irish.

An example of the former approach was to be found in a letter from Robin Bury of the Reform movement to the
Irish Examiner
,
13 February 2006. Therein he alleged that Protestants in the south of Ireland ‘were cleared out during a campaign of intimidation and persecution’ from 1920–24. In his view the legacy of 1916 ‘was an independent Ireland that was economically, culturally and intellectually stagnant’ as a result of the dominant position of the Catholic church, which, in his words, ‘controlled social and cultural life’ in the state.
¹⁹

The most egregious example of the latter was provided by historian, biographer of Pearse, and
Sunday Independent
columnist Ruth Dudley Edwards, who, quoting a conversation with a friend, suggested that the inference drawn by the latter from such ‘dogma’ was that ‘non-Catholics feel a sense of “not belonging” to Ireland – of being outsiders who can never really belong’.
²⁰
The non-sequitor involved in such a conclusion is apparent.

There were, of course, a large number of other points raised by the President which gave rise to public comment, some of which are examined in a different context later in this paper. In the opinion of this author, the most insightful immediate response to her comments came, not in the national print or broadcast media, but in a thoughtful article in the
Tullamore Tribune
by Conor Brady, former editor of the
Irish Times
.
²¹
Therein he lauded the President for having the courage to address what he described as a national sense of self-doubt regarding the state’s origins, which was as unwarranted as it was debilitating. He also suggested that the speech – ‘a timely portrayal of a proud and independent people’ – should be interpreted in the context of a possible state visit to Ireland by Queen Elizabeth II, a visit he regarded as imminent. While at the time of writing no such visit has been announced, the observation is an intriguing one.
²²

G
OVERNMENT AND OPPOSITION

Even though, as noted above, Taoiseach Ahern’s announcement of the reinstatement of the military parade to mark the Rising was overshadowed by contemporary events and by President McAleese’s speech, the significance of his address is clear. His speech, of course, was wide-ranging, and the announcement of the reinstatement of the parade but one among many items that drew applause from the audience. The relevant section of the speech spoke of the ‘need to reclaim the spirit of 1916’ from those who had ‘abused and debased the title of republicanism’. To that end, in addition to the reinstatement of the parade in 2006, he also announced the creation of a committee with responsibility for preparations for the centenary of the event.
²³

Inevitably there was speculation amongst political commentators as to the identity of the individual who first came up with the idea. Gene McKenna of the
Irish Independent
subsequently claimed that Rory Brady, the attorney general, was the individual in question,
²⁴
while Matt Cooper, writing in the
Irish Examiner
,
suggested that Ahern himself deserved the credit for what Cooper described as ‘the main creative vision of his second term of office’.
²⁵

Minister for Defence Willie O’Dea provided additional information on the background to Ahern’s announcement, in response to a Dáil question on 3 November 2005. He informed the chamber that the initial cabinet discussion of the matter had taken place the previous July. This was followed by consultation with the chief of staff of the defence forces, with the parade that marked the army’s withdrawal from its UN deployment in the Lebanon utilised as one possible model. Interestingly, he professed that he was ‘amazed’ that the matter had not leaked into the public domain prior to the árd fheis. He added that while the centenary seemed some years off, preliminary planning for it was not premature.
²⁶

Reaction to the idea varied. While a small body of opinion remained irrecoverably opposed to the concept, most welcomed the opportunity to mark the Rising and debate its legacy. There was obvious dissatisfaction amongst the opposition parties as to the nature of the announcement, and broader discussion as to the most appropriate form that the commemoration should take. As Easter weekend approached, however, criticisms became more muted, and once the parade itself had taken place a broad consensus emerged that the event had been, in the words of the journalist, Miriam Lord, ‘celebratory, yet reverential, good-natured and good-humoured, patriotic but not triumphalist’.
²⁷

The initial response to the announcement focused primarily on Ahern’s motivation, with several suggestions that his goal was simply and cynically to bolster Fianna Fáil’s ‘green’ credentials in its forthcoming
electoral contest with Sinn Féin for the state’s nationalist vote (‘the Ghost of Elections Future’ as the
Irish Independent
described it).
²⁸
This discussion quickly gave way to a debate on the commemoration process itself. One correspondent to the
Irish Times
disparaged sentimental attitudes towards the Rising as a ‘national toy box’ that was better left closed.
²⁹
Writing in the same paper the columnist Kevin Myers, a long-time, vocal critic of the republican tradition, suggested that for the state to officially commemorate the Rising inevitably implied some degree of celebration of what he described as the consequent ‘catastrophic six-year fratricidal war’ and the ‘illegal and unconstitutional means to political ends’ that defined it.
³⁰
Eoghan Harris, another critic, also disparaged the parade as a ‘bad idea’, on the basis that it was merely designed to allow Fianna Fáil ‘appropriate for itself an important part of our past history’. He differed from Myers, however, in his support for some form of commemoration of the Rising, but suggested that a public debate on its legacy was more suitable than a military parade.
³¹

Others explored this theme. Fintan O’Toole argued against the parade on the basis that such a display of military power had a negative resonance in the aftermath of the conflict in Northern Ireland. Far better, in his view, to give substance to the republican ideals of liberty, equality and solidarity.
³²
Robert Ballagh, the prime mover behind the ‘unofficial’ commemoration of the seventy fifth anniversary of the Rising, also professed himself ‘less impressed’ with the military aspect of the revival than with the associated historical debate.
³³
In an editorial dated 28 March, accompanying an impressive sixteen page colour supplement on the Rising (which produced the largest single day’s sales in the history of the paper), the
Irish Times
concluded that the divergence of opinion on the parade suggested that the implied hope that the Rising could ‘again be regarded as an uncontroversial focus of national unity’ was mis-placed.

Among those who supported the commemoration idea but found the prospect of a military parade unappealing there was support for a civic, community-based approach. Provisional Sinn Féin and Labour were the principal party-political advocates of such an approach, although the two made rather uncomfortable bed-fellows, especially in the aftermath of the ‘Love Ulster’ riot.
³⁴
Even those, such as Fergus Finlay (former political and communications director for the Labour party), who were keen to acknowledge the army’s valuable contribution to the United Nations, avoided the parade on the basis that it excluded other organisations that had also rendered distinguished service in this regard.
³⁵

Notwithstanding such objections the government persisted with preparations for the parade, details of which were disclosed to the public by degrees from late 2005. The general theme of the parade had been described by Minister O’Dea, in his speech to the Dáil on 3 November, as ‘a celebration of Óglaigh na hÉireann’.
³⁶
Some weeks later, in expounding upon the plans, the Taoiseach was keen to stress that the commemoration be ‘inclusive’; for him the aim was ‘to respectfully acknowledge the achievements and sacrifices of past generations and to inculcate an awareness and appreciation in modern Ireland of the events and issues of those times.’
³⁷