The Reluctant Taoiseach

by David McCullagh

  In opposition after a second defeat, party discipline quickly fell apart. Mulcahy complained to Cosgrave that front bench meetings were “almost impossible. They start late—with bad attendance and decide little if anything at all.”35 A parliamentary party meeting chaired by Costello in June had to be abandoned “owing to the small attendance”.36 The former ministers who survived the election were faced with the need to pick up the threads of their careers and earn a living. Just as the First World War had given Costello a chance to break into the Bar, so the shattered state of the parliamentary party offered him an opening in Cumann na nGaedheal. He was quickly playing a significant role in the parliamentary party, chairing a committee on External Affairs, and also one on meetings, which was “to receive reports from each Deputy as to his intentions and to see that a scheme of meetings was carried out”.37 He was also to make an immediate impact in the Dáil chamber, thanks in large part to Fianna Fáil’s decision to sack Garda Commissioner Eoin O’Duffy.

  Emboldened by his overall majority, de Valera moved to stamp his authority on the justice area. The only change to his cabinet was the replacement of Justice Minister Geoghegan, formerly of Cumann na nGaedheal, with P.J. Ruttledge, “a republican hardliner whose IRA sympathies were well known”.38 On 22 February, the Executive Council decided to remove O’Duffy as Garda Commissioner. He was offered an alternative job, first as head of a new branch of the Department of Industry and Commerce dealing with mineral development, and after he rejected this, as Controller of Prices. O’Duffy rejected this offer too.39 The curt letter of dismissal cited Section 2 of the Garda Síochána Act, 1924 as the legislative basis for the sacking.40 When de Valera was challenged by Cosgrave about the sacking on 1 March, he again mentioned Section 2 of the 1924 Act. The President said no charge had been made against the general; he was removed because the Executive Council felt a change of commissioner was in the public interest.41 Had Cumann na nGaedheal stayed in power they would have sacked O’Duffy too; but things look different from the Opposition benches. Cosgrave told his parliamentary party that the dismissal “might well be indicative of a change of policy as well as a change in personnel”,42 and he put down a Dáil motion condemning the Government’s action.

  But as the debate began, John A. Costello lobbed a legal hand grenade into the Dáil chamber—his first contribution in the House. He pointed out that the section of the Garda legislation cited by the Taoiseach had been repealed, and that O’Duffy “is neither in fact nor in law removed”. The Ceann Comhairle said he wasn’t going to interpret legislation and the debate continued, but Costello kept de Valera under pressure. The President sniffily suggested that “the former Attorney-General … should have known better” than to raise doubts over the legality of the dismissal. Costello in turn accused de Valera of making “an unworthy attack” on him.43 It was an impressive debut for the new TD, an indication that his forensic legal skills would be a valuable addition to the Opposition. The next time a Garda Commissioner was removed, in 1978, officials duly noted the legal slip, pointing out that the incident “lends support to the wisdom of our present general practice of not quoting statutory authority for decisions taken by the Government”.44

  During his first year in the Dáil, Costello made sensible, if sometimes over-lengthy, contributions on matters including Road Traffic, National Health Insurance and Workman’s Compensation Bills, where his legal background and knowledge of the Attorney General’s Office stood him in good stead. Some of his most trenchant interventions concerned the Government’s plan to cut Civil Service pay. Fianna Fáil in opposition had championed the cause of middle and lower grades in the Civil Service, with de Valera complaining that their pay was “in most cases … barely sufficient to meet the costs of the maintenance of a home”.45 In Government, of course, it was a different matter. The 1933 election had been precipitated by a threat from Labour to vote against pay cuts—once returned with an overall majority, the Cabinet agreed to press ahead with reductions.46

  The economies were billed as “temporary”, but Cumann na nGaedheal strongly opposed them, with Costello taking a particularly strong line against the “immorality” of the proposal. He also had harsh words for James Dillon and Frank MacDermot of the Centre Party, who proposed that the reductions should apply to TDS as well as civil servants. He began his contribution by apologising for missing the start of the debate, as “unfortunately I am under the necessity of earning my own living”—not for the last time, he had been in the Four Courts when the debate began. He then claimed that the £360 per year allowance for TDS was too low, rather than too high, and that very few Deputies would have a profit out of such a sum, particularly after “the demands made upon him by his constituents and by others all over the country in respect of donations to charitable purposes and subscriptions to different objects”. Costello accused the Minister for Finance, Seán MacEntee, of merely pretending to save money. He also admitted the previous Cumann na nGaedheal government had made mistakes in cutting the old age pension and the salaries of Gardaí and teachers, but had made a definite decision not to cut the pay of civil servants. He pointed out that the new ministerial salaries introduced by Fianna Fáil were after-tax figures, while the Cabinet had also given themselves free cars. “The man who holds the position that I held as Attorney-General has these perquisites in addition to £1,500 a year, free of tax, and liberty to get as much money as he can by private practice.” But the core of his argument, to which he would return again and again, was that the previous government had agreed with the Civil Service unions a guarantee of their pay in 1929 as a solution of the Wigg–Cochrane case. Costello said the agreement he had reached with Bill Norton and other union leaders on the issue was “my greatest achievement as Attorney General”. If the Government could now cut Civil Service pay, there would be no guarantee they could not double the cuts the following year.47

  Costello put down a series of amendments at committee and report stages designed to protect the pay of transferred officers, those who had moved from the British to the Irish Civil Service after the Treaty, arguing that the Government was breaking a promise as well as a contract, which “is a wrong both legally and morally”.48 He even suggested that de Valera and his ministers should seek theological advice to “find out whether, according to Catholic principles and Catholic theology, the provisions of the Bill … are not immoral”.49 Whether MacEntee looked into his soul or not, when the Bill returned to the Dáil to discuss amendments passed in the Seanad, the Minister introduced his own amendment to exclude transferred civil servants from the cuts. Costello expressed satisfaction at having “fathered this particular amendment”, while MacEntee acknowledged that it had been “agitating my mind for a considerable time, an agitation which was brought into focus during a debate which took place here on Deputy Costello’s amendment”.50 Costello was to continue his interest in Civil Service pay throughout the 1930s, supporting calls for an arbitration scheme—a fitting tribute to his father’s early activity in the Civil Service Guild (see Chapter 1). His position drew favourable comment from the Civil Service Journal,51 and also brought him into close co-operation with Labour leader Bill Norton, which was to prove useful in 1948.

  But the main political issue of 1933 and 1934 related not to hair shirts but to blue shirts. The Army Comrades Association had been formed in February 1932 by Colonel Austin Brennan and Commandant Ned Cronin, ostensibly as a self-help group for ex-servicemen. In August Brennan was replaced as President by Dr T.F. O’Higgins, brother of Kevin and Cumann na nGaedheal TD for Leix-Offaly. The new President claimed the ACA was “a benevolent body, engaged primarily in efforts to alleviate the hardships that fall on unemployed and disabled ex-members of the Army”. But he stressed too the organisation’s opposition to communism and support for free speech, deprecating “the new fashion of branding as ‘traitors’ certain public men with whom we … had the privilege of being associated in defence of the State”.52

  While some in the movement, s
uch as Ernest Blythe and Desmond FitzGerald, may have been attracted to fascist ideologies, other leading figures stressed the defence of free speech as the main aim. Shortly after the ACA was founded, Mulcahy urged a non-violent approach, stressing that the organisation had nothing to do “with mob violence whether of the Communist or the Fascist type”, having been established to save the institutions of the State “being overpowered from the outside or … destroyed or rotted from the inside”.53 Half a century later, James Dillon said they had “fought a desperate battle for the preservation of free speech in this country. And let it never be forgotten that we could not have won that battle but for the Blueshirts …”54 As we have seen, the ACA was heavily involved in the 1933 election campaign, guarding political meetings against Republican attack. In March 1933, the blue shirt and Fascist-style salute were adopted. As John M. Regan has pointed out, while the shirt had an obvious association with Continental fascist organisations, it was also very similar to the official Garda shirt, and therefore “reinforced the self-perception that the association as a police auxiliary was an unofficial and voluntary arm of the state”.55

  The economic war with Britain, sparked by de Valera’s withholding of the Land Annuities, helped both to increase support for the Blueshirts and to radicalise them. While British economic sanctions hurt large farmers, they still had to pay the annuities, which were now retained by the Irish Exchequer. Costello had been counsel in an attempt to have the courts decide whether the Government was bound to pay the annuities before the 1933 election, an attempt derailed by the re-elected Fianna Fáil government, which passed legislation, as Costello later indignantly recalled, “for the specific purpose of putting an end to that action”.56 The former Attorney General wasn’t in much position to complain, as this was exactly the strategy he had recommended to deal with Privy Council decisions.

  Legal action on the annuities was to continue side by side with political action, with Costello playing a leading role. In fact, the legal side of the struggle continued long after the demise of the Blueshirt movement. In 1935 Costello was lead counsel in a case taken by Louth County Council against the Government, which had withheld the Agricultural Grant because of the failure to pay annuities to the State.57 The following year he won £400 damages against the Dublin County Sheriff for failing to secure an adequate price for seized goods. Costello won the case after exposing the ignorance of the official concerned of his legal duty to the person whose goods were seized—the judge said the sheriff was supposed to “hold the scales of justice evenly between both parties”.58

  As rural unrest grew in 1933, the Executive Council began to take the ACA more seriously. At the end of May it ordered the dismissal of Reserve Officers known to be members of the organisation, and requested a report on the strength, armament and activities of the ACA, as well as of the IRA.59 But it was the appointment of sacked Garda Commissioner Eoin O’Duffy to lead the ACA on 20 July that made a confrontation inevitable. At the same time as O’Duffy assumed the leadership, the Blueshirts were taking steps to revive the annual commemoration of Collins, Griffith and O’Higgins, which had been abandoned when Fianna Fáil entered government. On 21 July, Ned Cronin, Secretary of the National Guard, wrote to Government officials seeking permission to lay a wreath at the Cenotaph in Leinster Lawn on Sunday 13 August. He explained that as well as relatives of the dead leaders, the ceremony would include “about fifty members of the ACA with buglers”.60 The Executive Council decided that admission to Leinster Lawn should be by ticket only, and that only individual applications would be accepted,61 to make an organised Blueshirt attendance more difficult.

  On 30 July, the Government revoked firearms certificates held by, among others, former ministers and leading supporters of the Opposition, including Patrick McGilligan, whose home had been raided by the IRA just a week before.62 In the Dáil, Cosgrave put down a motion criticising the move, claiming the withdrawal of licences from “law-abiding citizens” was causing uneasiness in the public mind. Costello delivered a blistering attack on the Minister for Justice, claiming his “so-called explanation … would not deceive a baby”. He ridiculed the excuse that the guns had been withdrawn for stocktaking, pointing out that one TD had paid his five-shilling fee for a firearms certificate on Friday, only to have it withdrawn on the Saturday. He also criticised de Valera for his “smiles and sniggers” during the debate.63

  The Government’s next move was more extreme. On 11 August, two days before the planned parade, de Valera reactivated Article 2A of the Constitution and banned O’Duffy’s march. While it seems unlikely that the General really intended to emulate Mussolini’s “March on Rome”, he had given the Government an excuse to take strong measures, allowing de Valera to resurrect emergency legislation without arousing opposition from militant Republicans64—who would later, of course, be its chief victims. Later in the month the Government used the emergency powers to ban the National Guard, which O’Duffy immediately renamed the Young Ireland Association. Believing the ban to be unjustified and politically motivated, the Opposition—Cumann na nGaedheal and the Centre Party as well as the Blueshirts—now had strong grounds for believing that the Government was intent on moving against them all. The impetus towards unity became irresistible.

  On 9 September, agreement was reached on a merger between Cumann na nGaedheal, the Centre Party and the Blueshirts, with O’Duffy as leader. The new party was called Fine Gael, or the United Ireland Party—the latter name was used more in the early days, but was eventually supplanted by the former. The National Executive was made up of six nominees of each of the constituent parts, with Costello one of the Cumann na nGaedheal nominees, along with former ministers Mulcahy, John Marcus O’Sullivan, FitzGerald-Kenny and Blythe, and former Labour TD Dan Morrissey. Cosgrave was leader in the Dáil, and one of no fewer than six Vice-Presidents.65 Costello later claimed to have been unhappy with the choice of O’Duffy, but said it was necessary in the interests of unity.66 With the benefit of hindsight, he described the General as “the world’s worst politician … he was a man of great integrity … but he had no conception of what the rough and tumble of political life meant”.67 He also blamed the leaders of the Centre Party for insisting on O’Duffy as leader instead of Cosgrave.68

  It was understandable that MacDermot and Dillon didn’t want to serve under Cosgrave, whom they had opposed when he was President of the Executive Council. They actually wanted former Agriculture Minister Patrick Hogan, rather than O’Duffy, to take the leadership, but Hogan rejected the offer. In any event, while MacDermot and Dillon “could be forgiven for not fully appreciating O’Duffy’s pedigree … the former Ministers could not plead such innocence”.69 Why did Cumann na nGaedheal agree to be led by the man they had planned to sack as Garda Commissioner? O’Duffy’s biographer has pointed out that from the perspective of the Opposition, “Fine Gael represented a defensive merger against a government which was assaulting its political and economic liberties.” It later transpired that Fianna Fáil was not planning to outlaw political opponents—but that wasn’t how it appeared at the time.70

  O’Duffy also regretted the merger in later life, but at the time it made sense for him too, as it would be more difficult for de Valera to ban the Blueshirts if they were part of the main Opposition party. While Blueshirts automatically became members of Fine Gael, the opposite was not the case.71 Some Fine Gael TDS were enthusiastic wearers of the shirt, with 14 having their names taken by Gardaí when they wore them in the Dáil—including Dr T.F. O’Higgins, Desmond FitzGerald, Gearóid O’Sullivan and Patrick Belton.72 Costello was notably not among their number.

  The first meeting of the newly formed Fine Gael parliamentary party was held on 28 September, with Costello among the 42 TDS and 10 senators in attendance.73 The following day, Frank MacDermot moved a Dáil motion accusing the Government of being “unjust and oppressive” in its use of the Public Safety Act. The motion followed the arrest of four prominent Blueshirts (including Cronin and Belton)
after disturbances at a sale of cattle seized for the non-payment of annuities. They were the first to be tried by the reconstituted Tribunal (all were found guilty).74 In his contribution, Costello criticised de Valera’s public comments about the case as potentially prejudicial, and said the only justification for the use of the Act would be that “the very foundations of the State are being menaced in such a way that the ordinary institutions of the State are not able to cope with the menace”. He pointed out that the Government had not moved against the ACA, or the blue shirt, until General O’Duffy took over the leadership. And, the former Attorney General insisted, there was no law in the country to prevent him, or anybody else, from wearing a blue shirt on a public platform or anywhere else.75

  In the course of the debate, Seán Lemass indicated that this situation might change, with a prohibition likely on the wearing of blue shirts. More dramatic was a claim by de Valera that Richard Mulcahy had met the British Minister for War, Lord Hailsham, in Glasgow. This allegation was immediately denied by both men.76 Mulcahy’s visit to Glasgow had in fact been a holiday with family friends, and the allegation astonished him.77 He indignantly rejected the implication that he had been seeking arms for the Blueshirts and demanded that de Valera establish a tribunal to inquire into the matter. The following week de Valera had to tell the Dáil that the source of his information (apparently a journalist with the Irish Press) had admitted that the story wasn’t true. He apologised to Mulcahy, but Costello badgered the President, asking if the source would be prosecuted for criminal libel.78