Courtney McGrail''You are the most Catholic country in the world!” Msgr Giovanni Battista Montini (later Blessed Pope Paul VI) told Ireland’s Ambassador to the Vatican, Joseph Walshe, in 1946. Just two years later, the first act of the newly-formed interparty Government in 1948 was to send a message to Pope Pius XII in which Taoiseach John A. Costello expressed a “desire to repose at the feet of Your Holiness”.
Looking back, the message seems like an extraordinary act of subservient deference from a democratically-elected government which, despite the personal faith of the members, owed its mandate and loyalty to the people and the Constitution rather than to the papacy.
Dr Elaine Byrne, a specialist on corruption, governance and white-collar crime, appeared before the Oireachtas Banking Inquiry late last week. Her evidence was fascinating. She said that a “culture of deference” between State authorities, political representatives, banks and the property sector had been a major contributory factor to the financial crisis.
She went on to add: “We had very much a self-regulating culture in Ireland, whether it was in politics or the Church or professions.
“The culture of deference in Ireland was not just in politics; it was within the Church, the police, as we have seen, hospitals and every sector of Irish society,” Dr Byrne said. To what extent, I wonder, is that culture of deference alive and well in Ireland. To the Church? Certainly not. To politicians? Largely a thing of the past.
However, it’s hard not to get the impression that the culture of deference that appears to be an Irish trait remains, albeit directed in a different way.
A recent Red C opinion poll on the forthcoming referendum to redefine marriage revealed that the vast majority of voters say they support same-sex marriage. In all, 77% of voters say they are in favour.
The pollsters also asked further questions about matters related to the issue of gay marriage. One-third of those prepared to vote ‘yes’ said they had reservations about gay couples adopting children.
Those who said they would vote ‘yes’ were further asked if they had reservations about the concept of the same-sex marriage referendum. In this case, 42% said they had reservations about the idea of the referendum.
Voters
So, a significant number of voters who say they are likely to vote ‘yes’ in the referendum have serious reservations about same-sex marriage. You wouldn’t think it to look at the political and media landscape.
I can only think of four Oireachtas members who have publicly expressed any misgivings about the issue of same-sex marriage. If I’m correct, that means less than 2% of Oireachtas members have any reservations about a proposal that polls indicate more than 20% of people will vote against with a significant number of ‘yes’ voters saying they have reservations. In fact, if the polls are correct, just 44% of voters say they have no reservations. And yet, only a tiny handful of politicians express any reservation. It’s as if the new culture of deference is towards political correctness. Those politicians, columnists and opinion-formers who express even the slightest reservations about same-sex marriage are quickly dismissed or demonised as cranks or homophobes despite a huge number of voters having reservations.
When RTÉ infamously defamed Fr Kevin Reynolds, the ensuing inquiry identified what it described as a culture of ‘groupthink’ at the national broadcaster. The same groupthink led to the economic collapse as the media, commentators, ‘experts’ and politicians cheered on policies that were clearly insane. Again, the few dissenting voices were dismissed as cranks and killjoys.
If we’re to have a truly pluralist Ireland, we need to overcome the culture of deference. Whether it’s to the Church, politicians, Gardaí, banks or political correctness, a culture of unquestioning deference leads to a culture that is sleepwalking.
Dissenting voices should be welcomed: if what they are saying has merit, it should be heard, if not, what they propose will be seen to be wrong. But there should be no fear of different points of view.
Undoubtedly the aforementioned message of Costello’s Government to Pius XII was marked by a genuine piety and sincere affection for the Pope. But, in history, context is everything: the 1948 telegram to Pius XII had been drafted by the new Minister for External Affairs Seán MacBride. Of course, MacBride, a former Chief of Staff of the IRA, was founder of the socialist Clann na Poblachta party at a time when socialism was casting a dark shadow over most of eastern and central Europe.
Fear of repressive socialism and communism gaining a foothold in western Europe was real in the 1940s in a way that it is hard to imagine nowadays. It’s interesting to ponder to what extent MacBride was allaying such fears about his party when he drafted the message to the Pope.