l The past as a political minefield: public memory, politicians and historians

1. This article is based on a talk presented at the Irish Museums Association Annual Conference, Museums &Memory: Challenging Histories on 22nd February 2014, Waterford 2. Daily Mail, 2 January 2014 ‘Michael Gove Blasts “Blackadder Myths” about the First World War spread by television sit-coms and academics’,. 3. Clarke, A. (1961) The Donkeys, Hutchinson, London, See also Todman, D. (2005) The Great War: Myth and Memory Hambledon and London, London, and Reynolds, D. (2013) The Long Shadow Simon & Schuster, London

The past as a political minefield: public memory, politicians and historians

RÓISÍN HIGGINS

Introduction1

As the centenary of the Easter Rising approaches in 2016 this article examines its place within the Irish imagination and considers what we might learn from previous commemorations. It also suggests some of the tensions which exist between politicians and the public over ownership of the memory of iconic historical events.

Two thousand and fourteen had barely begun before politicians in Britain had waded into the debate about how Britain should best remember the First World War. On 2nd january Minister for Education, Michael Gove, wrote an article for the Daily Mail that challenged the left-wing myths about the War. He claimed that these myths thrived in the national psyche because they had been peddled through fictional dramas such as ‘Oh, What a Lovely War’, ‘The Monocled Mutineer’ and ‘Blackadder’ which, he argued, portray the First World War as “a misbegotten shambles – a series of catastrophic mistakes perpetrated by an out-of-touch elite”.2

It is not difficult to see why Conservative politicians might want to challenge a version of the First World War which depicts it as a series of catastrophic mistakes perpetrated by an out-of-touch elite. But Gove was also attacking a historiographical approach which, while present during and after the war, came to dominate in the 1960s, heavily influenced by the publication of Alan Clark’s ‘The Donkeys’ published in 1961. The First World War in the British imagination since has largely been characterized by mud and futility both of which underlined the innocence of the dead and the heroism of the sacrifice.3

yet, Gove’s intervention prompts us to ask what else is at stake in these competing versions of the war? The ‘Lions led by Donkeys’ view of the First World War provided a way to talk about the benefits of a

4. Parker, S. (1989) Parker Plays 2: Northern Star, Heavenly Bodies, Pentecost Methuen, Oxford 5. Kilmainham Gaol Archive. 12 November 1965. Lorcan Leonard to Sean Dowling meritocracy and the stupidity of the ruling elite. By the fiftieth anniversary in 1964, many of the survivors had died and the event had begun to float free of its origins and had become a vehicle through which to talk about contemporary society. Criticisms of the war were not being used to undermine Britain’s military traditions they were concerned instead with the distribution of power and influence within post-war society. Therefore a key element of the controversy surrounding the memory of the First World War in Britain goes to the heart of one of that society’s most sensitive issues: class.

Possibility and failure

Pivotal historical events often survive in the cultural memory as channels for the discussion of contemporary preoccupations. They regenerate rather than remain static. Commemorations tend to take moments of rupture and reshape them into representations of tradition or continuity. But, in fact, it is often the rupture that societies are compelled towards: either as a moment of historical potential or of devastation. We read into them stories of sacrifice, redemption, loss and waste. In Stewart Parker’s play about 1798, Northern Star, Henry joy McCracken says “…we can’t love it for what it is, only for what it might have been, if we’d got it right, if we’d made it whole. If. It’s a ghost town now and always will be, angry implacable ghosts. Me condemned to be one of their number. We never made a nation. Our brainchild. Still born. Our own fault.”4

Throughout the play Parker returns to that moment of possibility, the moment before reality overtakes the dream. Lorcan Leonard, the man behind the restoration of kilmainham Gaol Museum, which opened in 1966, wrote to a friend the previous year:

“As far as the 1916 jubilee [of the Rising] is concerned, I do not wish to be brought into it. At best, it can only be a melancholy remembrance, as we, right and wrong sections, have fallen so far short of the minimum. However, I am convinced as I always was, if kilmainham is saved Ireland is saved, and out of our poor efforts at least the children of the future will say we preserved the history of Ireland, as far as stone and roofs are concerned … Let them say we gave them neither wealth nor land but a dream.”5

In these two representations we see something of the usefulness of these events as commemorations. They offer both a vision and a subsequent failure and we return to them seeking answers. This is part

6. McGarry, F. (2010) The Rising: Easter 1916 Oxford University Press, Oxford, 154. 7. Kenny, E. 13 November 2014. Speech by Taoiseach Enda Kenny ‘2016 Commemoration Launch’ of the attraction of the Easter Rising. yet it does not fully explain why 1916 has become such a touchstone in Irish society.

When Tom Clarke was asked, ‘Why a Republic?’ he is reported to have replied” you must have something striking in order to appeal to the imagination of the world.”6 Almost one hundred years later the Taoiseach, Enda kenny, described Easter 1916 as “one of those seminal weeks when the fault lines of history shifted.”7

Therefore, if we look at the Easter Rising we can see that it matters to Irish people primarily because it is seen as a moment of possibility. This makes it both tantalizing and dangerous: a moment of change around which people who want change can gather. It is partly because of this that the state attempts to stabilize the meaning of the Rising; to co-opt it on behalf of tradition and legitimization. Moreover, society as a whole has, at times, colluded in de-radicalising the Rising by turning it into a commodity.

The Rising as a vehicle for commemoration

The Proclamation situates the Rising within a continuum of the struggle for freedom and so its commemorations provided moments into which a range of historical events could be collapsed. If defined by this assertion of freedom from British rule the Rising represents both a measurement of the height of Ireland’s ambition and the depth of its failure. The violence at the heart of the Rising also allows it to function historically as a mirror with which to examine the best and the worst of Ireland. Furthermore, as Pearse understood well, Easter 1916 incorporates a classic model of sacrifice and redemption and these elements – in all societies – can be powerfully deployed in peace-time to sell a message of patriotic service.

Therefore, the Easter Rising works symbolically at several levels. It aligns itself with the religious symbolism of the resurrection and it very deliberately commemorates all acts of Irish insurrection that have gone before and so clearly locates itself within religious and nationalist traditions. Perhaps most crucially, it also speaks to the future.

What does it say to us in the future? In some ways it says whatever we need it to. Commemorations all have a gimmick, as Oisín kelly put it when he was designing the Children of Lir sculpture for the Garden of Remembrance, “in 1941 the gimmick of the official commemoration

8. Higgins, R. (2012) Transforming 1916: meaning, memory and the fiftieth anniversary of the Easter Rising Cork University Press, Cork 9. Kenny, E. 13 November 2014. Speech by Taoiseach Enda Kenny ‘2016 Commemoration Launch’ was neutrality; in 1966 it was modernization; in 1991 it was silence and in 2006 it was Celtic Tiger consumerism.”8

The parallels between the ways in which the Easter Rising was officially legitimized by the success of the Irish economy (and the way in which the Rising was used to celebrate the economic policies of the Independent state) in 1966 and 2006 are quite striking. Indeed, historically, the commemorative fortunes of 1916 have been deeply affected by the economic circumstances of the southern state. This asked interesting questions of what would happen in 2010 when the IMF was called in to the Republic of Ireland. It was possible that the Easter Rising would be the focus for anger and be associated with the failings of the state (as it had been in the 1980s). But, in fact, the Rising was deployed once more as the most powerful available symbol of Irish sovereignty. It was used to give expression to a nationhood that transcended the state and indeed, and in unlikely quarters, the Rising was also used as an example of good leadership.

Towards 2016

In 2012, Ireland embarked on a ‘Decade of Centenaries’ which has been variously understood as beginning with the sinking of the Titanic, the introduction of the Third Home Rule Bill or the signing of the ulster Covenant. If the intention was to lessen the focus on the Rising by placing it within a constellation of anniversaries then the plan has failed. The Rising seems to grow in significance as trust in political leadership recedes.

When Enda kenny launched the ‘2016 Commemorations’ in November 2014 he said the “events of that momentous week and its aftermath, and the inspiring Proclamation which underpins it, has (sic) shaped our view of ourselves and our nation, for the past century”. He presented 2016 as a “once-in-a-century opportunity to create events of celebration and remembrance…”9 However, the ‘Ireland Inspires’ launch and promotional video which bore the headings ‘Remember’, ‘Reconcile’ ‘Imagine’, ‘Present’ and ‘Celebrate’ were seen as, at best shamefully ahistorical and, at worst, deeply cynical. The subsequent public outcry demonstrated an intense resistance to having the Easter Rising reduced to what were seen as a series of hash-tags. The ninety second video ‘Ireland 2016’ carried images including those of Brian O’Driscoll, Bono, Ian Paisley and David Cameron, but none of the signatories of the Proclamation.

10. O’Riordan, M. Irish Socialist June 1966. 11. Higgins, R. (2012) Transforming 1916: meaning, memory and the fiftieth anniversary of the Easter Rising Cork University Press, Cork Attempting to use 1916 as a marketing tool for Ireland is not new. Writing in the Irish Socialist about the jubilee 1966, Michael O’Riordan complained of the “adman’s clichés of Lemass and Co., who sound more and more as if their true vocation lay in writing cigarette commercials”.10 During the fiftieth anniversary Seán Lemass’s commemoration committee was very awake to the possibilities of using the anniversary to project an image of a modern, technologically advanced Ireland. The Taoiseach has also placed particular emphasis on promoting the commemoration abroad and encouraging those of Irish descent to visit Ireland during the celebrations.11 The Easter Rising is a significant brand in Ireland so attempts will always be made to use it to sell things. However, it is also much more than this. It is an event which is greater than the sum of its parts and therefore operates as a conduit or icon: the portal to a complexity of meanings and conversations about Irish history and society. Therefore, even in a culture as commercialized and commodified as Ireland’s, there is opposition to having the Rising so blatantly, not just abbreviated but obliterated. So where does that leave us as we approach 2016? What are the competing needs of the public, politicians and historians?

Politicians (in all countries) will try to control the commemoration of important historical events. They know these events give form to significant debates within the society and, in Ireland, they are also seen as potentially explosive. This gives the government a good reason to try to marshal the emotion associated with these events on behalf of the state and, more specifically, on behalf of a political party. Essentially what politicians want from a commemoration is that it will act as a force for social cohesion not division. Heroic national myths underscore the identity of the nation and those in authority have an interest in seeing them as a cause of celebration not criticism. What history teaches us, however, is that attempts to control the meaning of commemorations are doomed to fail.

What of the public? There is no doubt an appetite for heroes exists and this is an important part of the appeal of the Rising. But Easter week was also a moment of ambition, foolhardiness and a deeplyheld desire for change and this too resonates with the Irish public. That potential republic – the measurement for what came later –lies deep, sometimes dormant, in the national psyche.

Conclusion

In the midst of all of this sits the historian who, in many ways, has the task of seeing the distinction between the historic event, the commemorative ritual and the cultural product. Historians attempt to contribute to the debate in a way that facilitates a wider engagement with history. They must also create the spaces into which history can be used to show society to itself: challenging easy assumptions and shameless myth-making and, above all, resisting the forces of those in authority (including other historians) who mould history to underscore power.

Dr Róisín Higgins is a Senior Lecturer in History at Teesside University.

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