Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report
A few friends have suggested to me in strong terms that I am going on too much about the Ryan Report. One woman is very angry at me for, what she sees as, bringing down the Catholic Church, and my brother in Australia opined that I am flogging a dead horse, as most of the stuff revealed by Ryan was known already.
Certainly, I have been greatly affected by the extent of the depravity that is so graphically set down by Ryan. The thought of thousands of children, with nobody in their corner, being abused by thugs, who were seemingly operating with the approval of Irish society, is shocking, beyond words. It is difficult for me to avoid the conclusion that the culture that tolerated and gave tacit approval to such outrageous behaviour was other than barbaric and corrupt.
A few last random comments on this whole sordid business.
1 Fintan O’Toole, who, in my opinion, is the most perceptive critic of Irish society, past and present, in commenting on the Ryan Report, pointed out that Irish people have a real proclivity for doublethink. He gives a brilliant example of this with the story of the woman who was asked if she believed in fairies. Her reply is a classic example of doublethink: “I don’t -- but, they are there alright!” Denying that kids were being beaten, while saying that it was probably necessary, is a central part of the sad Ryan story.
2 I was moved by the story in the Report of the Moloney family from Kilbeggan in County Westmeath. The mother died and left the father with seven young children. He was visited on a few occasions by a nun, whom they dubbed “the little nun,” urging him to allow her to take the kids to an institution where her Order would care for them. The father, to his great credit, finally chased her, while listening to her parting admonition about his irresponsibility as a parent.
3 The Mercy Sisters gave their young clients identification numbers; they were called by number, not by name. That is as heartless as it gets! These kids, from age seven up, had to make X amount of rosary beads every weekday and more on weekends. The sale of these beads allowed the Sisters to purchase a summer home for their members. The Provincial of this Order, to this day, argues publicly that, taken in the context of the time, these childcare practices were justifiable.
4 Of course, the attitudes of the times have been used to explain some of the abuses. For instance, when I was young, a common question asked of students about the school they were attending was: Are the priests, brothers or nuns tough? If the answer was affirmative, then the students were deemed to be attending a good school.
5 Patrick Pearse’s beliefs about violent revolution were widely known, and they played a big part in the culture that prevailed during the War of Independence and, later, during the Civil War. Irish Republicans of every hue felt justified and affirmed by Pearse’s philosophy of support for armed resistance. Amazingly, Pearse’s very progressive attitude to a humanistic education never counted when Republicans were in power. What Pearse correctly identified as the “murder machine” of the British education system, deteriorated into schools that terrorized young people, especially those in so-called reformatories, after independence from Britain was achieved.
6 Some commentators blamed the subservient peasant mentality, which never questioned the authority of the Catholic Church, for the disaster of these “schools.” Patrick Kavanagh’s line seems appropriate in this context: “Relieve me of my peasant roots!” Irish society certainly lacked a coterie of critical thinkers, who were casting a cold eye on their society.
7 What does the Ryan Report say about Irish attitudes to poverty? It seems that Irish culture gave undue respect to rich people, and, on the other end, the poor were deemed to be, in some way, responsible for their own plight.
8 Were there any interventions on behalf of the children by left-wing T.D.’s or eccentric clerics? Almost none! Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame heard about the Irish borstals and returned from the States to highlight the cause of the children who were being abused. He was scolded publicly for his efforts by the Minister for Education, Gerry Boland, who was supported by the Fine Gael spokesman, John Dillon. Fr. Flanagan died before he could investigate the matter further. The other Irish person who hated Industrial Schools was the founder of the Legion of Mary, Frank Duff. He regularly expressed his dislike of these schools, but he did not argue for reform publicly.
Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report
A few friends have suggested to me in strong terms that I am going on too much about the Ryan Report. One woman is very angry at me for, what she sees as, bringing down the Catholic Church, and my brother in Australia opined that I am flogging a dead horse, as most of the stuff revealed by Ryan was known already.
Certainly, I have been greatly affected by the extent of the depravity that is so graphically set down by Ryan. The thought of thousands of children, with nobody in their corner, being abused by thugs, who were seemingly operating with the approval of Irish society, is shocking, beyond words. It is difficult for me to avoid the conclusion that the culture that tolerated and gave tacit approval to such outrageous behaviour was other than barbaric and corrupt.
A few last random comments on this whole sordid business.
1 Fintan O’Toole, who, in my opinion, is the most perceptive critic of Irish society, past and present, in commenting on the Ryan Report, pointed out that Irish people have a real proclivity for doublethink. He gives a brilliant example of this with the story of the woman who was asked if she believed in fairies. Her reply is a classic example of doublethink: “I don’t -- but, they are there alright!” Denying that kids were being beaten, while saying that it was probably necessary, is a central part of the sad Ryan story.
2 I was moved by the story in the Report of the Moloney family from Kilbeggan in County Westmeath. The mother died and left the father with seven young children. He was visited on a few occasions by a nun, whom they dubbed “the little nun,” urging him to allow her to take the kids to an institution where her Order would care for them. The father, to his great credit, finally chased her, while listening to her parting admonition about his irresponsibility as a parent.
3 The Mercy Sisters gave their young clients identification numbers; they were called by number, not by name. That is as heartless as it gets! These kids, from age seven up, had to make X amount of rosary beads every weekday and more on weekends. The sale of these beads allowed the Sisters to purchase a summer home for their members. The Provincial of this Order, to this day, argues publicly that, taken in the context of the time, these childcare practices were justifiable.
4 Of course, the attitudes of the times have been used to explain some of the abuses. For instance, when I was young, a common question asked of students about the school they were attending was: Are the priests, brothers or nuns tough? If the answer was affirmative, then the students were deemed to be attending a good school.
5 Patrick Pearse’s beliefs about violent revolution were widely known, and they played a big part in the culture that prevailed during the War of Independence and, later, during the Civil War. Irish Republicans of every hue felt justified and affirmed by Pearse’s philosophy of support for armed resistance. Amazingly, Pearse’s very progressive attitude to a humanistic education never counted when Republicans were in power. What Pearse correctly identified as the “murder machine” of the British education system, deteriorated into schools that terrorized young people, especially those in so-called reformatories, after independence from Britain was achieved.
6 Some commentators blamed the subservient peasant mentality, which never questioned the authority of the Catholic Church, for the disaster of these “schools.” Patrick Kavanagh’s line seems appropriate in this context: “Relieve me of my peasant roots!” Irish society certainly lacked a coterie of critical thinkers, who were casting a cold eye on their society.
7 What does the Ryan Report say about Irish attitudes to poverty? It seems that Irish culture gave undue respect to rich people, and, on the other end, the poor were deemed to be, in some way, responsible for their own plight.
8 Were there any interventions on behalf of the children by left-wing T.D.’s or eccentric clerics? Almost none! Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame heard about the Irish borstals and returned from the States to highlight the cause of the children who were being abused. He was scolded publicly for his efforts by the Minister for Education, Gerry Boland, who was supported by the Fine Gael spokesman, John Dillon. Fr. Flanagan died before he could investigate the matter further. The other Irish person who hated Industrial Schools was the founder of the Legion of Mary, Frank Duff. He regularly expressed his dislike of these schools, but he did not argue for reform publicly.
Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report
A few friends have suggested to me in strong terms that I am going on too much about the Ryan Report. One woman is very angry at me for, what she sees as, bringing down the Catholic Church, and my brother in Australia opined that I am flogging a dead horse, as most of the stuff revealed by Ryan was known already.
Certainly, I have been greatly affected by the extent of the depravity that is so graphically set down by Ryan. The thought of thousands of children, with nobody in their corner, being abused by thugs, who were seemingly operating with the approval of Irish society, is shocking, beyond words. It is difficult for me to avoid the conclusion that the culture that tolerated and gave tacit approval to such outrageous behaviour was other than barbaric and corrupt.
A few last random comments on this whole sordid business.
1 Fintan O’Toole, who, in my opinion, is the most perceptive critic of Irish society, past and present, in commenting on the Ryan Report, pointed out that Irish people have a real proclivity for doublethink. He gives a brilliant example of this with the story of the woman who was asked if she believed in fairies. Her reply is a classic example of doublethink: “I don’t -- but, they are there alright!” Denying that kids were being beaten, while saying that it was probably necessary, is a central part of the sad Ryan story.
2 I was moved by the story in the Report of the Moloney family from Kilbeggan in County Westmeath. The mother died and left the father with seven young children. He was visited on a few occasions by a nun, whom they dubbed “the little nun,” urging him to allow her to take the kids to an institution where her Order would care for them. The father, to his great credit, finally chased her, while listening to her parting admonition about his irresponsibility as a parent.
3 The Mercy Sisters gave their young clients identification numbers; they were called by number, not by name. That is as heartless as it gets! These kids, from age seven up, had to make X amount of rosary beads every weekday and more on weekends. The sale of these beads allowed the Sisters to purchase a summer home for their members. The Provincial of this Order, to this day, argues publicly that, taken in the context of the time, these childcare practices were justifiable.
4 Of course, the attitudes of the times have been used to explain some of the abuses. For instance, when I was young, a common question asked of students about the school they were attending was: Are the priests, brothers or nuns tough? If the answer was affirmative, then the students were deemed to be attending a good school.
5 Patrick Pearse’s beliefs about violent revolution were widely known, and they played a big part in the culture that prevailed during the War of Independence and, later, during the Civil War. Irish Republicans of every hue felt justified and affirmed by Pearse’s philosophy of support for armed resistance. Amazingly, Pearse’s very progressive attitude to a humanistic education never counted when Republicans were in power. What Pearse correctly identified as the “murder machine” of the British education system, deteriorated into schools that terrorized young people, especially those in so-called reformatories, after independence from Britain was achieved.
6 Some commentators blamed the subservient peasant mentality, which never questioned the authority of the Catholic Church, for the disaster of these “schools.” Patrick Kavanagh’s line seems appropriate in this context: “Relieve me of my peasant roots!” Irish society certainly lacked a coterie of critical thinkers, who were casting a cold eye on their society.
7 What does the Ryan Report say about Irish attitudes to poverty? It seems that Irish culture gave undue respect to rich people, and, on the other end, the poor were deemed to be, in some way, responsible for their own plight.
8 Were there any interventions on behalf of the children by left-wing T.D.’s or eccentric clerics? Almost none! Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame heard about the Irish borstals and returned from the States to highlight the cause of the children who were being abused. He was scolded publicly for his efforts by the Minister for Education, Gerry Boland, who was supported by the Fine Gael spokesman, John Dillon. Fr. Flanagan died before he could investigate the matter further. The other Irish person who hated Industrial Schools was the founder of the Legion of Mary, Frank Duff. He regularly expressed his dislike of these schools, but he did not argue for reform publicly.
Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report
A few friends have suggested to me in strong terms that I am going on too much about the Ryan Report. One woman is very angry at me for, what she sees as, bringing down the Catholic Church, and my brother in Australia opined that I am flogging a dead horse, as most of the stuff revealed by Ryan was known already.
Certainly, I have been greatly affected by the extent of the depravity that is so graphically set down by Ryan. The thought of thousands of children, with nobody in their corner, being abused by thugs, who were seemingly operating with the approval of Irish society, is shocking, beyond words. It is difficult for me to avoid the conclusion that the culture that tolerated and gave tacit approval to such outrageous behaviour was other than barbaric and corrupt.
A few last random comments on this whole sordid business.
1 Fintan O’Toole, who, in my opinion, is the most perceptive critic of Irish society, past and present, in commenting on the Ryan Report, pointed out that Irish people have a real proclivity for doublethink. He gives a brilliant example of this with the story of the woman who was asked if she believed in fairies. Her reply is a classic example of doublethink: “I don’t -- but, they are there alright!” Denying that kids were being beaten, while saying that it was probably necessary, is a central part of the sad Ryan story.
2 I was moved by the story in the Report of the Moloney family from Kilbeggan in County Westmeath. The mother died and left the father with seven young children. He was visited on a few occasions by a nun, whom they dubbed “the little nun,” urging him to allow her to take the kids to an institution where her Order would care for them. The father, to his great credit, finally chased her, while listening to her parting admonition about his irresponsibility as a parent.
3 The Mercy Sisters gave their young clients identification numbers; they were called by number, not by name. That is as heartless as it gets! These kids, from age seven up, had to make X amount of rosary beads every weekday and more on weekends. The sale of these beads allowed the Sisters to purchase a summer home for their members. The Provincial of this Order, to this day, argues publicly that, taken in the context of the time, these childcare practices were justifiable.
4 Of course, the attitudes of the times have been used to explain some of the abuses. For instance, when I was young, a common question asked of students about the school they were attending was: Are the priests, brothers or nuns tough? If the answer was affirmative, then the students were deemed to be attending a good school.
5 Patrick Pearse’s beliefs about violent revolution were widely known, and they played a big part in the culture that prevailed during the War of Independence and, later, during the Civil War. Irish Republicans of every hue felt justified and affirmed by Pearse’s philosophy of support for armed resistance. Amazingly, Pearse’s very progressive attitude to a humanistic education never counted when Republicans were in power. What Pearse correctly identified as the “murder machine” of the British education system, deteriorated into schools that terrorized young people, especially those in so-called reformatories, after independence from Britain was achieved.
6 Some commentators blamed the subservient peasant mentality, which never questioned the authority of the Catholic Church, for the disaster of these “schools.” Patrick Kavanagh’s line seems appropriate in this context: “Relieve me of my peasant roots!” Irish society certainly lacked a coterie of critical thinkers, who were casting a cold eye on their society.
7 What does the Ryan Report say about Irish attitudes to poverty? It seems that Irish culture gave undue respect to rich people, and, on the other end, the poor were deemed to be, in some way, responsible for their own plight.
8 Were there any interventions on behalf of the children by left-wing T.D.’s or eccentric clerics? Almost none! Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame heard about the Irish borstals and returned from the States to highlight the cause of the children who were being abused. He was scolded publicly for his efforts by the Minister for Education, Gerry Boland, who was supported by the Fine Gael spokesman, John Dillon. Fr. Flanagan died before he could investigate the matter further. The other Irish person who hated Industrial Schools was the founder of the Legion of Mary, Frank Duff. He regularly expressed his dislike of these schools, but he did not argue for reform publicly.
Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report
A few friends have suggested to me in strong terms that I am going on too much about the Ryan Report. One woman is very angry at me for, what she sees as, bringing down the Catholic Church, and my brother in Australia opined that I am flogging a dead horse, as most of the stuff revealed by Ryan was known already.
Certainly, I have been greatly affected by the extent of the depravity that is so graphically set down by Ryan. The thought of thousands of children, with nobody in their corner, being abused by thugs, who were seemingly operating with the approval of Irish society, is shocking, beyond words. It is difficult for me to avoid the conclusion that the culture that tolerated and gave tacit approval to such outrageous behaviour was other than barbaric and corrupt.
A few last random comments on this whole sordid business.
1 Fintan O’Toole, who, in my opinion, is the most perceptive critic of Irish society, past and present, in commenting on the Ryan Report, pointed out that Irish people have a real proclivity for doublethink. He gives a brilliant example of this with the story of the woman who was asked if she believed in fairies. Her reply is a classic example of doublethink: “I don’t -- but, they are there alright!” Denying that kids were being beaten, while saying that it was probably necessary, is a central part of the sad Ryan story.
2 I was moved by the story in the Report of the Moloney family from Kilbeggan in County Westmeath. The mother died and left the father with seven young children. He was visited on a few occasions by a nun, whom they dubbed “the little nun,” urging him to allow her to take the kids to an institution where her Order would care for them. The father, to his great credit, finally chased her, while listening to her parting admonition about his irresponsibility as a parent.
3 The Mercy Sisters gave their young clients identification numbers; they were called by number, not by name. That is as heartless as it gets! These kids, from age seven up, had to make X amount of rosary beads every weekday and more on weekends. The sale of these beads allowed the Sisters to purchase a summer home for their members. The Provincial of this Order, to this day, argues publicly that, taken in the context of the time, these childcare practices were justifiable.
4 Of course, the attitudes of the times have been used to explain some of the abuses. For instance, when I was young, a common question asked of students about the school they were attending was: Are the priests, brothers or nuns tough? If the answer was affirmative, then the students were deemed to be attending a good school.
5 Patrick Pearse’s beliefs about violent revolution were widely known, and they played a big part in the culture that prevailed during the War of Independence and, later, during the Civil War. Irish Republicans of every hue felt justified and affirmed by Pearse’s philosophy of support for armed resistance. Amazingly, Pearse’s very progressive attitude to a humanistic education never counted when Republicans were in power. What Pearse correctly identified as the “murder machine” of the British education system, deteriorated into schools that terrorized young people, especially those in so-called reformatories, after independence from Britain was achieved.
6 Some commentators blamed the subservient peasant mentality, which never questioned the authority of the Catholic Church, for the disaster of these “schools.” Patrick Kavanagh’s line seems appropriate in this context: “Relieve me of my peasant roots!” Irish society certainly lacked a coterie of critical thinkers, who were casting a cold eye on their society.
7 What does the Ryan Report say about Irish attitudes to poverty? It seems that Irish culture gave undue respect to rich people, and, on the other end, the poor were deemed to be, in some way, responsible for their own plight.
8 Were there any interventions on behalf of the children by left-wing T.D.’s or eccentric clerics? Almost none! Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame heard about the Irish borstals and returned from the States to highlight the cause of the children who were being abused. He was scolded publicly for his efforts by the Minister for Education, Gerry Boland, who was supported by the Fine Gael spokesman, John Dillon. Fr. Flanagan died before he could investigate the matter further. The other Irish person who hated Industrial Schools was the founder of the Legion of Mary, Frank Duff. He regularly expressed his dislike of these schools, but he did not argue for reform publicly.
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2 comments:
You raise an interesting point just at the end. Ireland had a mainly nascent Left until the 60s - David Thornley, the Cruiser, Justin Keating etc - but there was a respectable left after Connolly and the Countess and I suppose you could add the Spanish civil war: Jim Larkin died in the late 40s, Peadar O'Donnell, Noel Browne, others no doubt. Sean McBride's Nobel Prize was for work on human rights. Neither of us, I'm sure, attach any blame to these people, but it is certainly interesting to wonder why none of them commented on the matter.
And consider the literary people. With the exception of McGahern's The Dark, which referred to clerical rather than institutional abuse, there is nothing either in fiction or journalism. Kavanagh does refer in Lough Derg to a Franciscan priest having sex three times with a woman. Perhaps he was near the problem in The Great Hunger, with the bachelor Patrick Maguire relieving himself weekly in his Monaghan fields and his marvellous line "For the strangled impulse there is no redemption." Anyway, to return to our muttons, O'Faolain, O'Connor, Flann O'Brien, Behan, Anthony Cronin, Peadar again, none were shy about criticism of church or state; likewise editors like Bertie Smyllie and Tim Pat Coogan. But no comment. Again, no blame is being suggested, but there is surely the basis for a good Masters thesis here.
Similarly the eccentric (nice word) priests - Fergal O'Connor, Birch of Ossory, others no doubt, good people - though their powder was dampened by people like Casey, Cleary and Comiskey
I was not aware of Fr Flanagan or indeed of Frank Duff, though isn't it ironic that he and his organisation were favourite targets of the barbs of the writers of the day.
Time you got on to Mike Mul and told him there was a doctoral thesis here.
Fran
It is, indeed, hard to understand why none of the left-wingers bothered with the issue. The Republican movement always had a strong minority, who were interested in social and economic issues. Certainly, Larkin and Noel Browne also, were politically aware, but no eye for the poorest and most vulnerable!!
Artists, including writers, do not have a record of following through on humanistic convictions. The Nazis got support or silence from most of these in their campaign of terror against Jews and gypsies. Beckett, who was active in the Resistance, was a noble and notable exception.
Is the truth that nearly all people are caught up in the angst of their own existence, not interested in putting their/our heads above the parapets? If we had serious leadership of churches and states, would tens of thousands of children die from hunger every day? We just have enough problems to deal with. We agree it is awful, and we will give a few bob now and again, but we are not saints!!
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