It was, Archbishop McQuaid told him, “very well done indeed, clear and temperate”.110 Too temperate, according to US Ambassador Bill Taft, who questioned “whether the Government’s warning words will deter the fanatical members of unlawful Irish militant organisations from perpetrating further acts of violence in Northern Ireland”. His scepticism seemed to be endorsed by a report later in the month from the Embassy’s Second Secretary, who reported that “the Irish police do not plan to take any action to stop the recruiting, drilling or the possession of illegal arms by the IRA or other militant groups in Ireland”.111 The British Ambassador urged on Liam Cosgrave the need to take action to prevent the south being used as a sanctuary by terrorists. While he reported that Cosgrave “showed some uneasiness on this score”, he got no promises of action.112 This attitude gravely disappointed the Stormont government, which urged London to apply pressure “to ensure that the authorities in Dublin would take effective steps to put down the IRA”.113 That organisation, meanwhile, seems to have believed that an absence of violence in the Republic would save it from the threatened crackdown. As one supporter put it, “no member of the IRA was engaged in subversive activities against the 26 Counties, and … the Government of that State had no right whatsoever to dictate policy in the northern State, which was outside its jurisdiction”.114 The irony of this partitionist attitude didn’t seem to occur to the author.
Costello’s approach of threatening rather than taking action was widely attributed to the need to keep Government supporters on side—not just in Clann na Poblachta, but in Labour too. The Leader, for instance, suggested that the Taoiseach’s difficulty in drafting his statement was “to ensure that it would have the full approval of all his Inter-party colleagues as a formal statement of Government policy”. The writer added that the solid support given to Costello by Labour TDS made it “a much more telling declaration than would have been a verbally more sweeping one from which there might have been an element of Labour dissent”.115 The difficulty of keeping MacBride on side was obviously even greater.
Such political considerations must have played a part; but Costello’s approach was entirely consistent with his views on the use of emergency powers. As we saw in Chapter 3, he believed such powers were only useful as a deterrent, and said of Article 2A, his own contribution to emergency laws, that “every person that went to prison under that Article was a monument to the failure of that Article”.116 Despite his reluctance to resort to emergency powers, he reminded newspaper editors at the beginning of December that the Offences Against the State Act was still in force—and that they were prohibited from publishing certain matters.117 Section 2 of that Act banned the use of “words, abbreviations, or symbols referable to a military body in reference to an unlawful organisation”, and every copy of a newspaper breaching this provision was a seditious document.118 He had strong views on media responsibility in this area, later saying it wasn’t just the teaching of history which glorified the use of arms “but the action of many newspapers in featuring and emphasising this facet of our history, even at times when the use of arms was being advocated for the solution of the problem of Partition”.119 But while those prepared to use arms had been given a stark warning by the Government, they were also under increasing pressure to take action because of the activities of Liam Kelly.120 Their decision to launch the Border Campaign in late 1956 would prove a military disaster; but by calling Costello’s bluff, they indirectly caused the fall of his second government, as we will see in Chapter 13.
If Costello’s approach to the North was more nuanced in his second term, so too was his approach to the Catholic hierarchy. He remained, of course, highly deferential to the bishops, particularly to Archbishop John Charles McQuaid, but he was also prepared to show some independence when it suited him, the most notable example being the Agriculture Institute. However, there were limits to this independence, and Costello was usually careful to ensure he had McQuaid’s support.
In July 1956, the Bishop of Killaloe sent a blistering letter of complaint to Costello after attending the trial of a priest and nine laymen accused of assaulting two Jehovah’s Witnesses. Bishop Joseph Rodgers bitterly attacked the Attorney General for allowing a case to proceed against a priest who had been “upholding and defending the fundamental truths of our treasured Catholic Faith” against blasphemy. The court evidently agreed, because while the charges against the assailants were dropped, the two victims were bound to the peace! Given Costello’s reputation for supine acceptance of clerical dictation, a conciliatory reply might have been accepted. Instead, the Taoiseach told Rodgers that the law must take its course once a complaint was made, and that anyone believing blasphemy to have been committed should report it to the Gardaí. “I do not need to remind Your Lordship of the grave evils that would ensue if it came to be accepted that persons who are roused to indignation by the conduct of others—however just that indignation might be—were entitled to take the law into their own hands and to give expression to their feelings and enforce their views by violent means. If such a situation were to arise, not only would the public peace be threatened but the true interests of religion and morality would inevitably suffer.” However, Costello took the Bishop’s complaint seriously; he took the precaution of reading the letter to the Cabinet and clearing his reply with ministers. He also sent a copy to McQuaid, who described it as “admirable in its clarity and moderation”.121
McQuaid, by virtue of his close control over his various clerical networks, had considerable information at his disposal which could be of use to the Government. For instance, in November 1956 he reported to the Taoiseach on “the investigations I have made” concerning four youths arrested for Republican activities. “They are certainly not bad young fellows, but misled by youthful idealism. I shall have them followed up quietly.”122 The flow of information went both ways; when Seán MacEoin supplied Costello with a memorandum on a new socialist political grouping involving Noël Browne he suggested that “it would be no harm to let His Grace of Dublin have a copy”.123 The Archbishop reaped more practical benefits from Costello too—when petrol was scarce following the Suez Crisis, the Taoiseach arranged for him to receive supplies. McQuaid was “very grateful”, adding pointedly that “it is a consideration which was not shown me during the war”.124 Costello, then, was far more solicitous of the Archbishop than de Valera had been. But on occasion, he was prepared to take a line independent of McQuaid, and of the wider hierarchy.
In September 1955, the Taoiseach holidayed in Rome with his wife. The couple had a private audience with Pope Pius XII—the Taoiseach received a gold medal commemorating the proclamation of the Dogma of the Assumption, while Ida Costello was presented with a rosary blessed by the Pontiff. Pius was reported to have “expressed fervent wishes to the Irish President and Government and imparted a special blessing to ‘Our beloved people of Ireland’”.125 Later, Costello met a senior Vatican official, Monsignor Domenico Tardini, the Pro-Secretary of State in Charge of Extraordinary Affairs. Tardini pointed out that the Irish Government accorded “very favourable” treatment to non-Catholics, which contrasted with the way Catholics were “persecuted” in the North. Costello explained that the Government gave “fair treatment to non-Catholics both on general principles and also in the interest of future unity”. Tardini said “the favourable treatment accorded … to non-Catholics is to him a source of some anxiety”. According to the minutes of the meeting, Costello made no further reply, an indication he was not prepared to meet the Vatican’s concerns on this issue.126 To say the least of it, this is at odds with Costello’s image as “ever loyal to the precepts of the church”.127
McQuaid was accustomed to having his views accepted by the Government. For instance, when the Yugoslav soccer team played Ireland in 1955, the Archbishop had a private conversation with the Taoiseach, after which the Government advised President O’Kelly not to attend the match.128 However, Costello resisted the Archbishop’s wishes over the appointmen
t of Seán Ó Faoláin as Director of the Arts Council (discussed below), and over the Censorship Board.
Two of the five places on the Censorship Board became vacant in mid-1956, but the Government took their time in filling them. The reason is revealed in a memorandum to Costello from the Secretary of the Department of Justice, T.J. Coyne. To meet growing criticism of the censorship regime, Coyne suggested the appointment of “broadminded persons, including perhaps one of the Protestant faith”. However, McQuaid had “let it be known” that he was willing to nominate a priest to act on the Board (one of the vacancies was due to the resignation of the Chairman, Monsignor Deery). As Coyne pointed out, “His Grace … may well nominate some priest of the diocese who is anything but broadminded. On the other hand, it is difficult not to invite him to make a nomination.”129 Finally, in December, the Government appointed Robert Figgis (a Protestant) and Andrew Comyn,130 the latter on the recommendation of Alexis FitzGerald.131
However, the existing members and Costello’s appointees could not work together, with the result that the chairman, Professor John Piggott, refused to call further meetings. After the change of government, he was sacked by the new Minister for Justice, Oscar Traynor.132 The Knights of Columbanus, with the tacit encouragement of McQuaid, waged a campaign against Traynor as a result. The Minister complained to de Valera that the campaign was started because “His Grace was not consulted by the former Taoiseach or by me about recent appointments to the Board.” Traynor suggested that de Valera should make an effort to secure Costello’s support “so that the Hierarchy may be led to see at the outset that this Government and those which preceded it were carrying out their duties faithfully in accordance with the powers conferred on them”.133 After a private conversation with de Valera, Costello “expressed confidence in the Board as now constituted”.134
He could hardly do otherwise, as two of the members had been appointed by him. But his position is completely at variance with the accepted image of Costello as bowing to the demands of the Church at every available opportunity. One recent writer has suggested that the dominance of the Church “was not to be challenged for the first time until the 1980s. The state was anxious not to come into conflict with the Church on any matter, but certainly not on those considered to be of primary importance to Catholic faith and morals.”135 As we have seen, this was something of an exaggeration—control of the Censorship Board would have been seen by McQuaid as an issue “of primary importance to Catholic faith and morals”, and Costello appears to have ignored his wishes. And there was certainly a clash over a matter which would not normally have been seen as concerning religion—the proposal to set up an Agricultural Institute.
The Agricultural Institute had been approved by government as far back as 1950. It was strongly backed by the Americans, who would pay the capital costs through Marshall Aid grants. However, delays in congressional approval, as well as jockeying for position between the various third level institutions, meant that little progress was made until Costello and Dillon returned to government in 1954.136 While the various universities had somewhat grudgingly approved the plans, a new problem arose at the start of 1955, when the hierarchy suddenly expressed concern at the involvement of Trinity in the Institute. Bishop Michael Browne of Galway and Bishop Cornelius Lucey of Cork—two of the more hardline prelates, and each with a university in his diocese—were despatched to talk to Costello after a meeting of the hierarchy’s standing committee. The bishops explained that they would object to involvement by Trinity “if the result would be to impair or diminish the National University, deprive its Colleges of the Faculties of Agriculture and Dairy Science, or allow Trinity to have a say in the teaching of Agriculture in the new Institute”. Costello countered, with evident exasperation, that the involvement of Trinity had been agreed for some time, and no objection had been raised. Why, he asked, had the hierarchy not brought their concerns to the attention of his predecessor? “Their Lordships did not give any specific explanation …”137
It is difficult to disagree with the conclusion reached by Maurice Manning: the bishops felt Costello would be a soft touch in comparison to de Valera.138 However, they were to be sorely disappointed. Costello told Browne and Lucey that it was important not to give ammunition to those who might accuse the Government of discriminating against Protestants. He said they would be kept informed of developments, “and that every opportunity of conferring on difficulties would be given”. But he certainly wasn’t as accommodating on this issue as he had been on the Mother and Child Scheme—perhaps because he didn’t share the concerns of the Bishops, or believe agricultural instruction to be a matter of “faith and morals”.
As in the Mother and Child controversy, one of the main stated objections was the danger of increased government control, with the State accused of attempting to do what independent bodies, in this case the universities, were capable of doing themselves. In response, the Government stressed the consultations they had and would continue to conduct with the interested parties, and the Institute’s autonomy from government, with a majority of the governing body being non-State nominees.139 These assurances were of little avail, though, because the real objection was to Trinity involvement, and to the perception of the universities that they would lose prestige (and money) if they lost their Agriculture faculties.
If the controversy can be seen as a re-run of the Mother and Child affair, then the heads of the various universities played the role of the IMA. Like the doctors before them, they must have been delighted when the bishops weighed in on their side with “moral” arguments. Given Costello’s views on Trinity, he might have been expected to be as open to persuasion on this issue as he had been on medical matters. But when the President of UCD, Michael Tierney, wrote expressing concerns about the surrender of his Faculty of Agriculture, the Taoiseach merely promised to pass his observations on to Dillon, adding that while the Minister would “no doubt … consult with you … he may not accept your suggestions”.140
Costello had decided to fight for his government’s policy, and he began a charm offensive on the hierarchy. He visited Archbishop Joseph Walsh of Tuam in July and went through the issues involved at some length, writing to him afterwards, “My justification for taking up so much of Your Grace’s time must lie in the conviction that our discussion helped to remove many misconceptions as to the Government’s proposal in relation to that Institute.” He sent Walsh a copy of a memorandum by Dillon setting out the background to the Institute, assuring him that all interested parties had been promised “that nothing final would be determined until they had been given an opportunity of expressing their views”.141 He had also, crucially, discussed the controversy with McQuaid.142
Walsh was impressed by the memorandum, which “enables one to see all sides of the case”, and predicted that the Institute “is going to do a great deal towards the uplifting of the country”. But he warned that the facts should be made known to the public “before certain interested or prejudiced people spread false propaganda and do a great deal of harm”. Armed with the memorandum, he promised “to discuss the matter fully with some people who might take a wrong view owing to want of knowledge”.143 It is possible he was thinking of his colleague from Galway. But Bishop Browne dismissed the memorandum, arguing that as the proposed institute “violates the University settlement of 1908, not even the agreement of yourself and Mr de Valera can heal its fundamental defect”.144
Costello had been careful to keep de Valera on side;145 now he decided to take Archbishop Walsh’s advice and try to persuade the public. The occasion was a speech opening Muintir na Tíre’s Rural Week in Navan, County Meath. His speech was drafted by Jack Nagle, an Assistant Secretary in the Department of Agriculture, although Costello, through Moynihan, made important suggestions, including the inclusion of a passage dealing with the religious and moral welfare of students. He also brought forward the publication of details of the Bill by two weeks, so they would be issued the day after his speech1
46—which he clearly expected to prepare the ground for greater public support for the legislation.
The tone of the speech, delivered on 14 August, was reasonable and conciliatory. The Taoiseach stressed that the proposals were a “basis for discussion” and were not inflexible. He utterly rejected suggestions that “the Institute is to be Government controlled, that it will be run by a majority of Government nominees, or that it will enjoy anything less than the academic autonomy at present possessed by the Universities”. In fact, the governing body would be made up of one-third each of university representatives, agricultural organisations, and Government nominees. He insisted the State had no intention of interfering with the research programme of the Institute, nor did the Government intend to use the annual grant “to control the Institute in any way or to upset the accepted principle of academic autonomy”.
Then he turned to “a point which is of the utmost interest to all of us, namely, the need for providing sufficiently for the religious and moral welfare of students of the Institute”. For the first two years of their course, they would be at the university of their choice, completing the foundation course in science and related subjects. When they transferred to the Institute, he insisted, “every facility will be afforded for, and due precautions taken to ensure, the provision of equal care for students”. He concluded by stressing that the Government’s only aim was to establish an institute which would equip its students with the most up-to-date knowledge, to the benefit of agriculture and the country as a whole. And he called for “disinterested co-operation and goodwill” from those concerned.147
The Reluctant Taoiseach Page 47
