Ireland’s very troubled relations with the Vatican during the post-war years

Documents on Irish Foreign Policy: Vol. IX 1948-1951

ed. by Catriona Crowe, Ronan Fanning and Michael Kennedy

(Royal Irish Academy, €50.00)

Joe Carroll

The period covered by this latest issue of foreign policy documents was momentous for the modern Irish State.

The last links with the British Crown and the Commonwealth were cut. The Republic of Ireland was formally declared. An Inter-Party Government replaced 16 years of uninterrupted Fianna Fáil government and Eamon de Valera went into opposition. Ireland turned down an invitation to join the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO), but joined the European Recovery Programme (Marshall Aid). 

We became a founder member of the Council of Europe, but the Soviet Union continued to veto our application to become a member of the United Nations. Our currency was devalued by 30% in line with the sterling adjustment.

This collection of documents from the National Archives shows what went on behind the scenes.

After the isolation of the war years, Ireland was tentatively seeking a wider role in the recovery of Western Europe and less dependence on a weakened British economy.

Relations with Britain were soured by the partition issue, but the campaign for Irish unity spearheaded by the new Minister for External Relations, Sean MacBride, received little support in a world outside of Ireland where our wartime neutrality was still not forgotten.

MacBride’s arrival in Iveagh House sent shockwaves through the small Irish foreign service, which had not had a full-time minister since de Valera had taken over the portfolio in 1932.

Campaign

MacBride’s militant republican background – he had been a Chief of Staff of the IRA briefly in the 1930s –  showed itself in his relentless anti-partition campaign which made huge demands on the few overseas legations.

On the other hand, he was passionately interested in efforts to achieve closer cooperation among former enemies in Western Europe and was a high profile figure in Strasbourg at Council of Europe meetings.

The Irish envoy to the Holy See, Joseph Walshe, who had run External Affairs for decades, ensured by his activism that Ireland was drawn deeply into the affairs of the Holy See. Much of this activity was secret, so the publication of Walshe’s exchanges with Dublin are most illuminating.

One of the first acts of the new Inter-Party Government was to send a message from Taoiseach John A. Costello to Pope Pius XII saying that: “My colleagues and myself desire to repose at the feet of Your Holiness the assurance of our filial loyalty and devotion.”

The Government also expressed “our firm resolve to be guided in all our work by the teaching of Christ and to strive for the attainment of a social order in Ireland based on Christian principles”.

For many years, Costello was criticised for such an obsequious message when barely in the door of Government Buildings but now it is clear that Walshe was the driving force. He over-reacted to headlines in the Italian Communist press that the defeat of de Valera would mean the end of “16 years of clerical oppression”.

Walshe telephoned Dublin that the Vatican was “very worried” at this left-wing view and he urged that the new Government declare its adherence to Christian principles. MacBride agreed immediately and the message of “loyalty” was signed by Costello.

When there were fears of a Communist take-over or a coup in Italy, Pope Pius XII was offered a refuge in Ireland, but politely refused.

Walshe was also the driving force behind an unsuccessful campaign to reject the Vatican appointment of Msgr Ettore Felici as the new papal nuncio to Ireland following the death of Msgr Pascal Robinson in September 1948.

Walshe with the backing of the four Irish archbishops wanted an Irish-American or an American who would have a better feel for Irish affairs. The argument was also made that Ulster unionists would see the Felici appointment as an example of “Home Rule means Rome Rule”.

For almost a year, Walshe argued secretly with Msgr Giovanni Montini (the future Pope Paul VI) against the Felici appointment. At one meeting, Montini “became white with anger” and warned Walshe “Take care, take care! This is the Holy See. We are the Holy Church… the Holy See requires obedience”.

Walshe over-estimated Catholic Ireland’s influence at the Vatican and eventually Felici had to be accepted.

Walshe also argued against Archbishop John Charles McQuaid being made a cardinal over Archbishop D’Alton of Armagh.

McQuaid had been a former pupil of his at Clongowes and Walshe while professing admiration for his pastoral work in Dublin, also referred to a “deplorable weakness in John’s character already so well known to the Holy See”. This was a reference to snubs to the papal nuncio at ceremonies in the pro-cathedral.

When MacBride was replaced as minister after the 1951 election, Walshe in a letter to McQuaid wrote: “From the very first day, this man’s appalling insincerity struck me as a very positive evil for the country.” He managed to keep this feeling to himself while MacBride was his boss.

The documents covering these post-war years also show that Irish officials were becoming concerned at the extent of foreign adoptions to the US of Irish children. These were being facilitated by Catholic organisations in Ireland and External Affairs provided passports for the children. But officials were raising questions about the suitability of the adoptive parents across the Atlantic and the risk of the children being prey to racketeers.

These collections of foreign policy documents provide valuable insights into how diplomacy works. Irish diplomats were underpaid and overworked but served their country well.