A day in Frankfurt

Healthcare Again

Healthcare Again

1 The healthcare debate is now in full swing. Most commentators believe that some bill will be passed before Christmas; however, the opponents are getting more strident and vociferous each week.

It is now almost certain that very few – if any – Republicans in Congress will support the President’s bill. And the so-called Blue Dog or conservative Democrats are also setting

limits on what they will vote for. The public option, which would involve the Federal Government offering a plan that would compete with the private insurance companies, is effectively off the table. Eventhough it is the preferred solution of most Democrats, including the President, it would not have the required votes in the Senate and might also be in trouble in the House of Representatives.

The unseemly outburst by South Carolina Republican, Joe Wilson, while the President was addressing both houses of Congress on this issue, drew strong criticism from former President Carter. Mr. Wilson shouted that the President was lying when he stated that people who are illegally in the country would not be covered in any Democratic legislation. Mr. Carter accused Wilson of racism, stressing that such a petulant and demeaning outburst would not have happened if the president was white.

President Clinton was asked if he agreed with his predecessor from Georgia about Wilson’s outburst. He replied that while he and Carter, both Southern governors before moving to the White House, shared an acute sensitivity to all kinds of racism, he didn’t think it was helpful to talk in these terms in the Healthcare debate because any Democratic president would face similar ferocious opposition in this area.

The great social programs of the last seventy years, Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid, all elicited fierce opposition from conservatives. Roosevelt was regularly called a communist and LBJ, from the heart of Texas, was deemed equally suspect. President Kennedy and his brother, Robert, were both committed to serious legislation to improve the civil rights of Black people. The right-wing hatred that this generated contributed to the dark ethos that led to their untimely deaths.

It is difficult to understand this harsh negativity by conservatives to almost any social change that benefits poor or working families. In the healthcare debate, President Obama is daily accused of socialism – an absolute no-no in American politics - and of promoting a program that will not only cover illegals but will also end the lives of vulnerable old people. Any lie will do!

Bill Clinton advised him to disregard the outrageous allegations and focus on the absolute need for radical reform. We pay away more per capita in the United States for our healthcare than any other Western country, and still 20% of our population, mostly working families, have no coverage. America has the highest infant mortality and among the lowest longevity rates in the West. People are frequently refused coverage or proper treatment by insurance companies if the cost is deemed too much. Companies in the United States are at a serious competitive disadvantage against their counterparts in other Western countries, where medical coverage is the responsibility of the national governments. The case for major change is overwhelming.

Republicans have a major credibility problem when they attack Democratic proposals in this area. They had a clear majority in both houses for six of the eight years that the last President Bush was in the White House. During that time, the cost of healthcare premiums almost doubled. Yet, they did nothing to alleviate the situation. Their constant complaints that the universal coverage that the Democrats are advocating will add to the already-high deficit also only reminds people that it was in their time, before President Obama was elected, that the national debt ballooned out of control.

President Clinton correctly advised his successor that he should forget about bipartisanship at this stage. The differences between the two parties on this issue have existed for most of a century. He should call on his own party to deliver the votes for the needed radical change. If they fail, it will greatly weaken the Democrats in the next congressional election and will seriously undercut the Obama presidency. When push comes to shove in the Fall votes, even the Blue Dogs will shy away from that.

Remembering Ted Kennedy

The adjective most often used to describe the late Senator Edward Kennedy is “liberal.” He certainly deserved that epithet, based on his record since he was first elected to the United States Senate close to fifty years ago.

He supported every economic change that helped poor and working-class people. Any bill that increased funding for education, or that expanded government healthcare for the uninsured, or that increased the minimum wage was assured of his imprimatur and his active and whole-hearted support.

The Senator was equally predictable on all the big social issues of the last fifty years. He was inevitably on the side of all civil rights legislation; he favoured full legal entitlements for homosexuals, including approving legislation to allow gay marriage; and on the crucial and very controversial issue of abortion rights for women, he always voted to affirm the Roe v Wade Supreme Court decision.

On the big foreign policy issues, the Senator also spoke against the hawkish agenda which is part of the Reagan and second Bush legacy. Eventually, he became a loud opponent of the Vietnam War, even though his brother, President Kennedy, had disastrously increased the number of American combat troops there. In recent years, he was one of only twenty eight senators who voted against the Iraq invasion.

Republicans identified him as the quintessential liberal, and they often identified, by name, the Kennedy brand of left-wing politics as the enemy of real progress in America. They were feeding the popular perception that liberals favour high taxes and excessive government control over people’s lives. In the United States, conservatives are seen by many as supporters of God and strong defenders of traditional values while liberals are often perceived as advocating for minority rights and unnecessary social change.

Ted Kennedy was also the leading Catholic political leader in America. His mother, Rose, the beloved matriarch of the family, was openly devoted to her faith, and the children were all raised in a Catholic milieu. In eulogizing his mother at her funeral, the Senator said that this love of the Catholic faith was his mother’s most important legacy for her family.

The Kennedy brothers’ commitment to liberal policies that helped the poor and promoted civil rights for Blacks was very much in line with the social justice teaching in many papal encyclicals going back to Pope Leo X111. However, on the crucial issue of a woman’s right to an abortion, the most divisive social issue in America during the last fifty years, while Teddy began by asserting the importance of “the right to life, the right to poetry,” he soon changed and became a strong supporter of a woman’s right to choose.

This position brought him into direct and deep conflict with his church. In addition, his support for the progressive gay rights agenda alienated him further from his Catholic roots, especially from the hierarchy.

His personal life also did not conform to his church’s expectations. He was divorced from his first wife, Joan, the mother of his children, and he was known as a womanizer, into his fifties. The tragic accident in Chappaquiddick in 1969, which resulted in the death of Mary Jo Kopechne, was attributed to exuberant partying and excessive alcohol consumption. Surely, this was not appropriate behaviour for a family man.

However, his second marriage to Vicki Reggi, seventeen years ago, was a major success story. Somehow, he got a Church annulment from his marriage to Joan, who became a serious alcoholic. Ted and Vicki had a very close – almost idyllic – relationship, and she is being spoken of as the one who would best represent his ideals as his replacement in the Senate.

Also, the people of Massachusetts, which has a strong Catholic population, re-elected him every six years, despite his rakish lifestyle and condemnation from the pulpit. It is important to remember that a central theme of Catholic theology is that we are all sinners, that our aberrations only highlight the mercy and benevolence of God. Catholics tend to understand human weakness, and, whether it is Bill Clinton or Ted Kennedy, they don’t abandon their leaders because of sexual immaturity.

The Senator was well-liked and respected as an accomplished legislator by his colleagues, Republican and Democrat. He had the unusual ability to argue strongly and agitate forcefully for his political beliefs, without demonizing his opponents. Indeed, it seems that he enjoyed a close personal relationship with such Republican stalwarts as Orrin Hatch and John McCain.

In the recent presidential election, his support for Barack Obama over Hilary Clinton in the Democratic primaries was crucial to his victory. He saw Mr. Obama as a very capable Black man, breaking the mould of American politics, just as his brother, a young Catholic senator, did when he was elected in 1960.

The era of the Kennedy brothers is now over – John, the urbane leader of Camelot, Robert, the ambitious idealist, and Teddy, the accomplished legislator. All three will be remembered, less for their serious character flaws, than their major contributions to the progressive agenda in America.

Health Care in America

Americans are, above all, supposed to be pragmatists. Their test for judging any existing system or proposed solution centers on its workability. If it is functional, if it serves its purpose, everything is fine. Of course, for the pragmatist, the corollary also holds true; a system that doesn’t meet people’s needs should be changed.

The present healthcare system in the United States fails every pragmatic test. It costs much more per capita than any other Western country, yet close to fifty million people in America have no coverage at all. Also, in the crucial litmus test areas of infant mortality and longevity, the statistics for other developed countries are better than in the United States.

Why does American pragmatism tolerate such poor performance in cost and delivery? The answer seems to be mainly ideological. Most Americans are suspicious of big government solutions. And lobbyists for the private healthcare industry spend hundreds of millions every year fostering this suspicion and opposing any major change, especially if it entails more involvement by Washington.

Central to President Obama’s thinking is what he calls a public option, a choice for people to avail of a Government-sponsored health care policy. This choice would be available not only to the millions of uninsured but to anybody who is dissatisfied with his or her present coverage, with no penalty or exclusion for pre-existing conditions.

Conservatives love to quote Thomas Paine who, famously, said that “the best government is the least government!” They mostly opposed the New Deal and Just Society programs of FDR and LBJ, both of which sought to use the Federal Government to provide a basic standard of living for all citizens. Republicans, most of whom define themselves as conservatives, opposed such landmark, progressive initiatives as Social Security to cushion the elderly from dire poverty and Medicaid, a nationwide program which provides healthcare for some poor families.

Instead, they favor the provision of all – or nearly all – services by private enterprise. They believe that healthy competition between private companies, competing for business, offers the best chance of meeting nearly all society’s needs, including in the area of healthcare.

Amazingly, the main argument used by opponents of the public option is that private companies, who cover most people at present, would not be able to compete with the new, proposed Government choice. Ironically, one of the main arguments being used by Republicans, who all oppose the Obama plan, is that vibrant competition, which is espoused as a sacred dogma by all conservatives, is unfair to the established private companies in the healthcare area.

Another core belief among conservatives is that Government, especially the central Government, is always inefficient and wasteful. They love to talk about "faceless bureaucrats" dictating to people about various entitlements. Yet, most people admit that the public option will involve far fewer employees – yes, bureaucrats - and cost less by comparison with the private companies.

Medicare, a federal program, which provides hospital and doctor services for the elderly, is considered much more cost-effective and efficient than similar programs provided by private companies. Yet, proponents of change, so far, have failed to get this crucial point across to the public. Instead, the media seem to concentrate on bogus arguments about incipient socialism and alleged long waiting lines in Britain and Canada.

The healthcare debate, which is dominating the public discourse this summer, is, without doubt, the most important domestic issue facing the American body politic for many years. Passing a bill along the lines of the Obama outline proposal, including a strong public option, would be a major success for the President. Failure to get the required number of votes for passage in either house of the Congress would greatly diminish and weaken Obama’s first term. The stakes are very high.

Can the strong pragmatic tendencies in American politics trump the deep suspicions of a “big” government solution? We will see before the year is out.

Final Thoughts on the Ryan Report

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.

CLASS DISTINCTION AND THE RYAN REPORT

Class Distinction and the Ryan Report

The central tenet of Karl Marx’s philosophy is that all human activity emanates from prevailing economic conditions. An obvious example of this thinking can be seen worldwide in the corelation between poverty and a high crime rate.

The Irish society, which is under the microscope in the Ryan Report, was a class-ridden society. The children in the so-called industrial schools were all very poor. They came from homes that were in serious disarray; for a variety of reasons, these families lived on the margins of their communities. Keep in mind that in the years covered by the report, there were little or no welfare payments to destitute families.

It is a sad reflection on Irish society that those poor kids were blamed for their awful plight. Somehow, the poverty was deemed their parents’ fault and, by some cruel logic, responsibility for their situation, was extended to the children. This culture of blame permeated the borstals, and it was used as a rationale by the Brothers, priests and nuns, for the violent and demeaning mistreatment of the children.

The Catholic Church is a highly-hierarchical organization. The pope is at the top and he is followed by the cardinals, who elected him, to the archbishops, bishops and priests. Below the priests, were the brothers and the nuns. Finally, at the bottom, the laity was expected to follow all the directives that came from above.

In the Irish society of the Ryan Report, the bishops enjoyed exceptional power and privilege. They frequently called their houses “palaces,” and no politician dared contradict their version of what was ethical or moral. They nearly all were educated in the national seminary in Maynooth, which was and is the training college for almost all diocesan clergy.

The local parish priest and his assistant priests had great power and did not hesitate to use it in the parishes throughout the country. Then there were the priests from the various Orders, who shared the power of the altar and confessional with the diocesan clergy, but who very rarely gained one of the prized bishoprics, which were seen as spoils for the Maynooth boys. Their best chance for advancement came after years of missionary work in some foreign diocese.

Brothers and nuns were really handicapped by their lack of power to say mass or hear confession. Like the laity, they were dependent on the priest for the eucharist and the sacrament of penance. However, they had their own fiefdoms in the hospitals and the schools. They largely operated these vital institutions which provided education and hospital care throughout Ireland.

The socio-economic origins of each of these groups were very interesting and tell a lot about the various strata of Irish society. The bishops and their diocesan underlings were nearly all drawn from upper-middle or rich families. Most of the Order priests came from the lower economic echelons of their communities. However, even among the orders, there was some class distinction. For instance, the Holy Ghost Fathers and Jesuits operated the most exclusive high schools in Ireland, and many of their members came from these schools.

The Order priests often resented the dominance of the Bishops, who insisted on keeping their “lessers” in their place. About fifteen years ago, the late Cardinal O’Fiaich visited a number of dioceses in the United States, raising money for a new library in Maynooth College. I know of one diocese in the South, which has over twenty Order priests working in its parishes, where they scoffed at the idea of supporting such a project because, in the past, the low socio-economic status of their families ruled them out from even considering a career as a diocesan priest.

The Brothers also came from poor families. Often, young boys left their homes at an early age to attend juniorates that served as rather harsh training grounds for the future Brothers. For many, it was the only chance they had of a decent education. After completing their training, the various orders of Brothers offered their members a steady job in the respected teaching profession, with no worry about adequate food or retirement benefits.

What about the nuns? There was also a definite pecking order among the many congregations of Sisters. Some orders kept the “riff-raff” out by insisting on a family contribution or dowry from the entrant’s family. The Reverend Mother was a powerful person in many Irish communities, but everyone knew that, in any crunch, the real power resided with the bishops, appointed by a Vatican bureaucracy that had no place for women.

A few days ago, Fr. Vincent Twomey, a prominent theologian who studied under the present pope – presumably, a mark of distinction that gives his words extra credibility – spoke on the BBC about the Church crisis. He said that many of the Brothers, priests and nuns, who perpetrated the abuse in the so-called reformatories, came from big, very poor families, where it seemed a good idea to encourage one or more to opt for the safe haven of the religious life.

He went on to say that, presumably unlike the priests who came from better-off backgrounds, the abusers were “monsters,” “the dregs of society.” They did not have real vocations!

I find his logic very unconvincing. Of course, there were economic considerations in the decisions of so many to become religious Brothers or priests, but to blame the crisis on big families, somehow described as societal dregs, makes no sense, unless we say that all the members of these orders from poor backgrounds were corrupt. And, what is he saying about the integrity and genuine Catholic religious culture of so many large Irish families?

Also, Fr. Twomey should explain how the diocesan clergy all over Ireland had so many child abusers among their members. Very soon, we will have another devastating report about flagrant child abuse by clergy, who worked in the Dublin diocese during the last fifty years.

The abuse of power is at the heart of the Ryan Report, the abuse of powerless children from poor backgrounds by the established authorities of church and state. The Catholic Church must explain how priests and bishops knew – or didn’t want to know – about the terrorizing of children in Catholic institutions and why every last one of them said nothing. It is a well-established moral principle that those who remain silent in the face of evil behaviour share in the guilt for that evil behaviour. Qui tacit consentire videtur. That is the question that Professor Twomey must address.
Class Distinction and the Ryan Report

The central tenet of Karl Marx’s philosophy is that all human activity emanates from prevailing economic conditions. An obvious example of this thinking can be seen worldwide in the corelation between poverty and a high crime rate.

The Irish society, which is under the microscope in the Ryan Report, was a class-ridden society. The children in the so-called industrial schools were all very poor. They came from homes that were in serious disarray; for a variety of reasons, these families lived on the margins of Irish society. Keep in mind that in the years covered by the report, there were little or no welfare payments to destitute families.

It is a sad reflection on Irish society that those poor kids were blamed for their awful plight. Somehow, the poverty was their parents’ fault and, by some cruel logic, responsibility for their situation, was extended to the children. This culture of blame permeated the borstals, and it was used as a rationale by the Brothers, priests and nuns, for the violent and demeaning mistreatment of the children.

The Catholic Church is a highly-hierarchical organization. The pope is at the top and he is followed by the cardinals, who elected him, to the archbishops, bishops and priests. Below the priests, were the brothers and the nuns. Finally, at the bottom, the laity was expected to follow all the directives that came from above.

In the Irish society of the Ryan Report, the bishops enjoyed exceptional power and privilege. They frequently called their houses “palaces,” and no politician dared contradict their version of what was ethical or moral. They nearly all were educated in the national seminary in Maynooth, which was and is the training college for almost all diocesan clergy.

The local parish priest and his assistant priests had great power and did not hesitate to use it in the parishes throughout the country. Then there were the priests from the various orders, who shared the power of the altar and confessional with the diocesan clergy, but who very rarely gained one of the prized bishoprics, which were seen as spoils for the Maynooth boys. Their best chance for advancement came after years of missionary work in some foreign diocese.

Brothers and nuns were really handicapped by their lack of power to say mass or hear confession. Like the laity, they were dependent on the priest for the eucharist and the sacrament of penance. However, they had their own fiefdoms in the hospitals and the schools. They largely operated these vital institutions which provided education and hospital care throughout Ireland.

The socio-economic origins of each of these groups were very interesting and tell a lot about the various strata of Irish society. The bishops and their diocesan underlings were nearly all drawn from upper-middle or rich families. Most of the Order priests came from the lower economic echelons of their communities. However, even among the orders, there was some class distinction. For instance, the Holy Ghost Fathers and Jesuits operated the most exclusive high schools in Ireland, and many of their members came from these schools.

The Order priests often resented the dominance of the Bishops, who insisted on keeping their “lessers” in their place. About fifteen years ago, the late Cardinal O’Fiaich visited a number of dioceses in the United States, raising money for a new library in Maynooth College. I know of one diocese in the South, which has over twenty Order priests working in its parishes, where they scoffed at the idea of supporting such a project because, in the past, the low socio-economic status of their families ruled them out from considering a career as a diocesan priest.

The Brothers also came from poor families. Often, young boys left their homes at an early age to attend juniorates that served as rather harsh training grounds for the future Brothers. For many, it was the only chance they had of a decent education. After completing their training, the various orders of Brothers offered their members a steady job in the respected teaching profession, with no worry about adequate food or retirement benefits.

What about the nuns? There was also a definite pecking order among the many congregations of Sisters. Some orders kept the “riff-raff” out by insisting on a family contribution or dowry from the entrant’s family. The Reverend Mother was a powerful person in many Irish communities, but everyone knew that, in any crunch, the real power resided with the bishops, appointed by a Vatican bureaucracy that had no place for women.

A few days ago, Fr. Vincent Twomey, a prominent theologian who studied under the present pope – presumably, a mark of distinction that gives his words extra credibility – spoke on the BBC about the Church crisis. He said that many of the Brothers, priests and nuns, who perpetrated the abuse in the so-called reformatories, came from big, very poor families, where it seemed a good idea to encourage one or more to opt for the safe haven of the religious life.

He went on to say that, presumably unlike the priests who came from better-off backgrounds, the abusers were “monsters,” “the dregs of society.” They did not have real vocations!

I find his logic very unconvincing. Of course, there were economic considerations in the decisions of so many to become religious Brothers or priests, but to blame the crisis on big families, somehow societal dregs, makes no sense, unless we say that all the members of these orders from poor backgrounds were corrupt. And, what is he saying about the integrity and genuine Catholic religious culture of so many large Irish families?

Also, Fr. Twomey should explain how the diocesan clergy in all dioceses in Ireland had so many child abusers among their members, who came from a different socio-economic group. Any day now, we will have another devastating report about flagrant child abuse by clergy, who worked in the Dublin diocese during the last fifty years.

The abuse of power is at the heart of the Ryan Report. The Catholic Church must explain how priests and bishops knew – or didn’t want to know – about the terrorizing of children in Catholic institutions and why every last one of them said nothing. Qui tacit consentire videtur. That is the question that Professor Twomey must address.

THE RYAN REPORT

THE RYAN REPORT

Thousands of children suffered physical and sexual abuse in residential care centers run by various religious orders over several decades in Ireland. The abuse was endemic and was perpetrated in over fifty locations throughout the twenty- six counties.

The types of abuse included flogging, starving, sexual abuse and all kinds of humiliations. Children with a bed wetting problem were often made stand naked in the cold, outside the building, and in one reported case a nun dealt with this problem by forcing the young girl’s face on to the stained underwear.

What were the children in these reformatories guilty of ? What did they do to deserve this horrible treatment? Some were orphans; others had a poor attendance record at school. All were needy kids from marginalized families, where, for instance, the mother could not cope financially or the father was a drunk. These were all very vulnerable children.

The extensive report on these institutions cost over 100 million dollars to complete, and nobody is saying that it exaggerates the extent or the severity of the physical and sexual abuse that innocent children suffered. Judge Ryan and his team of researchers listened to stories from over a thousand "graduates" of these reformatory schools, and his report is replete with stories of terror and intimidation.

The Soviet gulags could scarcely match the level of abuse and deprivation inflicted on these young children. The report speaks of the "pathetic gratitude response" from the kids when even the slightest compassion was shown by anyone in authority. One girl recalled how she was so delighted when she got a piece of candy from a nurse that she held on to it as a reminder that someone actually noticed her and thought she was important enough to be given a gift.

How did this happen that the most vulnerable members of Irish society, young children, were systematically mistreated in institutions owned and mostly staffed by priests and religious brothers and nuns? The finger of disgrace and blame points in a number of directions.

Each religious order has its own charism, the special spiritual perspective that, supposedly, sets it apart from the others. However, they all share a commitment to gospel values, to the teachings of Jesus Christ. To help them advance these values, they all attend mass every day and engage in various community rituals and prayers that focus on personal spiritual growth.

Yet, these are the people from all these Orders, people who claimed a special charism for childcare, who turned these reformatory schools into corners of hell for the young children they were supposed to serve. We are not talking here about occasional breaches of proper behaviour by " a few bad apples;" the report makes abundantly clear that the abuse was systemic and endemic.

How can we explain the vice and corruption that permeated religious communities of men and women in all parts of the 26 - county state for more than 50 years? That question cries out for some kind of an answer. Judge Ryan mentions that the Rosminian Order conceded that the revelations had led them to a serious examination of why their members engaged in or tolerated such awful behaviour. The other Orders are still offering grudging apologies or vague rationalizations about their despicable behaviour.

The children who were abused shared one common characteristic; they were all poor. To be more precise, they came from dirt poor families, who could fairly be described as destitute. Unfortunately, these vulnerable kids were blamed for their terrible predicament. They "deserved" to be treated like – well, dirt. This outlook gave the men and women, wearing crucifixes and touting rosary beads, permission to treat the children in their care as sub-human. First and foremost, the way these kids were treated was a terrible abuse of power.


The institutional Catholic Church, led by the bishops, pastors whose first obligation was supposed to be to the poor, must have known about the goings-on in these "schools." Not one bishop or priest spoke out against the pandemic of abuse, not even one called for some kind of an investigation. Actually, Fr. Flanagan of Boys’ Town fame did hear in the United States about the abuse in Ireland and tried to intervene. He was told where to go by the authorities of Church and State, and, unfortunately, he died before he could investigate the situation further.

The inspectorate in the Department of Education disgraced themselves by writing reports that all was well in these institutions, where the children were being whipped and starved. By contrast, their counterparts in Northern Ireland insisted on humane treatment for the children, who were housed there in similar Catholic or Protestant reformatories.

So, we have the amazing situation, for instance, of tyrannical Brothers working in the South, who had to behave themselves when they worked in their Order’s reformatories in the North where the British had jurisdiction. In fact, prior to 1922, when the laws for Ireland were made and implemented by Westminster governments, poor Irish children had a much better chance of humane treatment than when they depended on Dublin governments for protection.

The Irish people who tolerated this awful and outrageous abuse of power by these male and female religious cannot be excused of some responsibility for the evil in their midst. Irish culture allowed anyone with a clerical garb to do as they liked. This was a fatal flaw in the Irish people, resulting in unspeakable behaviour against children, who had nobody on their side, nobody to speak for them.

One woman in Dublin, responding to this damning report was quoted in the Irish Times as saying "I am deeply, deeply ashamed of being Catholic and Irish." So am I!



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