Opinion

Deaglán de Bréadún: Catholic Church must learn from its decline in Ireland since 1979

They say a week is a long time in politics and, if that is the case, then 39 years must be an eternity. That’s how long it is since the last visit by the Bishop of Rome to this island.

Sadly, my beloved father passed away in February that year, seven months prior to the Pope’s arrival. As a devout Catholic and daily Mass-goer, my Dad would have had the warmest of welcomes for John Paul II. It would have made my father’s day, his week, his year.

No doubt part of the reason for the Papal visit in 1979 was to assist in bringing an end to the Troubles. The prospects were bleak, however: just a month before his arrival, the IRA blew up the 30-foot boat at Sligo called Shadow V and killed Lord Mountbatten, a cousin of Queen Elizabeth, along with three others including an 83-year-old woman and two teenage boys. Later the same day, the Provos killed 18 British soldiers, five of them in their teens, at Warrenpoint.

In terms of ruthless physical-force republicanism, it was the most successful day since November 21,1920 when the “Twelve Apostles”, on the orders of Michael Collins, wiped out the so-called “Cairo Gang” of British intelligence operatives.

So when the Polish-born Pope landed at Dublin Airport, the IRA were riding high. He may have kissed the ground on arrival and later pleaded “on my knees” for an end to violence, but the chances looked - and indeed were - very slim.

An IRA statement in response to his appeal said: “In all conscience we believe that force is by far the only means of removing the evil of the British presence from Ireland.” On a rather cynical note, the statement continued: “We know also that upon victory the Church would have no difficulty in recognising us.”

There were other developments that year, however, that proved important with the passage of time. Gerry Fitt was replaced as SDLP leader by John Hume, who would not rest until peace was brought about. Charles Haughey taking over from Jack Lynch as Fianna Fáil leader and Taoiseach probably helped to keep a few ardent republicans inside the constitutional tent. Even the replacement of Harry West as the main unionist leader by the mild-mannered James Molyneaux helped ease tensions somewhat.

Few would have predicted at the time that, in just less than 20 years, an agreement would be reached whereby the terrible days of violence largely came to an end and a substantial majority of the IRA adopted non-violent politics. Not only that, but yet another 20 years further down the road, achieving Irish unity by peaceful means would be seen as a realistic prospect and maybe even an inevitability in due course.

Yes, the island of Ireland is a very different place nowadays and not just in terms of the “national question”. Prior to the arrival of Pope Francis at the weekend, the news media were awash with issues of child abuse and other forms of misconduct by members of the Catholic clergy.

The south of Ireland has changed almost beyond recognition. In the year 1979 divorce, homosexual acts and abortion were all illegal on that side of the border. Charles Haughey introduced a Bill to allow the purchase of contraceptives, but only on a medical prescription, and it was signed into law the following year. I still recall how a friend of mine, who was in a long-term relationship in the 1970s with a charming girl he later married, hitch-hiked to the north to buy condoms but made the mistake of going to a pharmacy run by a conservative Catholic, who quickly showed him the road.

Given the great tradition of Irish hospitality, not to mention the personal regard many hold for the Pontiff and of course the residual strength of Catholicism, especially among older people, he was unlikely to get a hostile reception and was bound to draw a large crowd. But it wasn’t going to be the same as the occasion in 1979.

Those of us who bear no animosity towards the Catholic Church, and greatly appreciate the good work its priests, nuns and brothers have done in fields such as education, health and caring for the poor and under-privileged, would wish that body to learn from its decline in a country that used to be one of its firmest strongholds.

If those lessons are taken to heart, we could eventually have a situation where future generations will find it hard to believe, for example, that women could not be ordained and priests were forbidden to get married. That might seem like the world turned upside down, but so would the Ireland of today if we’d been told about it back in 1979.

Ddebre1@aol.com

They say a week is a long time in politics and, if that is the case, then 39 years must be an eternity. That’s how long it is since the last visit by the Bishop of Rome to this island.

Sadly, my beloved father passed away in February that year, seven months prior to the Pope’s arrival. As a devout Catholic and daily Mass-goer, my Dad would have had the warmest of welcomes for John Paul II. It would have made my father’s day, his week, his year.

No doubt part of the reason for the Papal visit in 1979 was to assist in bringing an end to the Troubles. The prospects were bleak, however: just a month before his arrival, the IRA blew up the 30-foot boat at Sligo called Shadow V and killed Lord Mountbatten, a cousin of Queen Elizabeth, along with three others including an 83-year-old woman and two teenage boys. Later the same day, the Provos killed 18 British soldiers , five of them in their teens, at Warrenpoint.

In terms of ruthless physical-force republicanism, it was the most successful day since 21 November 1920 when the “Twelve Apostles”, on the orders of Michael Collins, wiped out the so-called “Cairo Gang” of British intelligence operatives.

So when the Polish-born Pope landed at Dublin Airport, the IRA were riding high. He may have kissed the ground on arrival and later pleaded “on my knees” for an end to violence, but the chances looked - and indeed were - very slim.

An IRA statement in response to his appeal said: “In all conscience we believe that force is by far the only means of removing the evil of the British presence from Ireland.” On a rather cynical note, the statement continued: “We know also that upon victory the Church would have no difficulty in recognising us.”

There were other developments that year, however, that proved important with the passage of time. Gerry Fitt was replaced as SDLP leader by John Hume, who would not rest until peace was brought about. Charles Haughey taking over from Jack Lynch as Fianna Fáil leader and Taoiseach probably helped to keep a few ardent republicans inside the constitutional tent. Even the replacement of Harry West as the main unionist leader by the mild-mannered James Molyneaux helped ease tensions somewhat.

Few would have predicted at the time that, in just less than 20 years, an Agreement would be reached whereby the terrible days of violence largely came to an end and a substantial majority of the IRA adopted non-violent politics. Not only that, but yet another 20 years further down the road, achieving Irish unity by peaceful means would be seen as a realistic prospect and maybe even an inevitability in due course.

Yes, the island of Ireland is a very different place nowadays and not just in terms of the “national question”. Prior to the arrival of Pope Francis at the weekend, the news media were awash with issues of child abuse and other forms of misconduct by members of the Catholic clergy.

The south of Ireland has changed almost beyond recognition. In the year 1979 divorce, homosexual acts and abortion were all illegal on that side of the Border. Charles Haughey introduced a Bill to allow the purchase of contraceptives, but only on a medical prescription, and it was signed into law the following year. I still recall how a friend of mine, who was in a long-term relationship in the 1970s with a charming girl he later married, hitch-hiked to the north to buy condoms but made the mistake of going to a pharmacy run by a conservative Catholic, who quickly showed him the road.

Given the great tradition of Irish hospitality, not to mention the personal regard many hold for the Pontiff and of course the residual strength of Catholicism, especially among older people, he was unlikely to get a hostile reception and was bound to draw a large crowd. But it wasn’t going to be the same as the occasion in 1979.

Those of us who bear no animosity towards the Catholic Church, and greatly appreciate the good work its priests, nuns and brothers have done in fields such as education, health and caring for the poor and under-privileged, would wish that body to learn from its decline in a country that used to be one of its firmest strongholds.

If those lessons are taken to heart, we could eventually have a situation where future generations will find it hard to believe, for example, that women could not be ordained and priests were forbidden to get married. That might seem like the world turned upside down, but so would the Ireland of today if we’d been told about it back in 1979.

Ddebre1@aol.com