Paul KeenanReflections on a man whose legacy transcends his iconic role on Bloody Sunday
From a civil conflict that played out on television screens on a near-nightly basis for 30 years, there is surely no more an enduring image from Northern Ireland of that period than of Fr Edward Daly, blood-stained handkerchief raised and warily leading a group of civilians through army lines as they carry the dying form of Jackie Duddy, the youngest of 13 civilians to die on Bloody Sunday, January 30, 1972.
Afforded ‘iconic’ status by all commentators, and immortalised in a subsequent Derry mural, the image was at once a confluence of war, suffering, innocent victims, and, through the figure of Fr Daly, the unending quest for peace he embodied through the majority of his clerical life.
Edward Daly was born on December 5, 1933 and raised in Belleek, Co. Fermanagh. He studied at St Columb’s in Derry prior to entering seminary. He completed his studies for the priesthood at the Irish College in Rome and was ordained on March 16, 1957.
Any thoughts of a ministry that might be ‘ordinary’ or ‘routine’ were swept aside by deteriorating events in Northern Ireland, and it was through his role as a curate with St Eugene’s Cathedral in Derry (from 1962) that he attended the civil rights march in 1972 that was to become the North’s Bloody Sunday.
Advisor
Fr Edward subsequently left Derry in 1973 to become a religious advisor with RTÉ in Dublin, a posting that lasted only until Fr Edward was named as Bishop-elect for Derry. (In 1975 he established the Irish Church’s first Press and Information Office – today the Catholic Communications Office)
At the time of his elevation at St Eugene’s on March 31, 1974, at the age of 40, Bishop Daly was the youngest bishop in Ireland.
For his new role, he adopted he adopted the motto Pasce Oves Meas (Pastor my sheep) while his crest, combining an oak tree and a dove symbolised his wish for a growing peace in Derry.
He would go on to serve as bishop through the worst days of the conflict for the city and Northern Ireland, frequently working behind the scenes to reach out to the IRA in striving for peace. At the same time, however, he was not afraid to tackle the IRA on its part in the Troubles, going so far as to prohibit paramilitary trappings at the funerals of IRA members.
Such was his pastoral style, at once informal and warm, that the bishop would be routinely referred to and addressed as ‘Eddie’ by the people of Derry.
In 1993, having suffered a stroke, Bishop Daly was forced into an early but active retirement.
As a chaplain to Foyle Hospice, he ministered to the terminally ill and their families.
He also found time for writing, publishing The Clergy of the Diocese of Derry: an Index (1997, with Kieran Devlin), Mister, Are you a Priest? (2000), Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled: Thoughts on Ministry to the Terminally Ill (2004) and A Troubled See: Memoirs of a Derry Bishop (2011)
Inevitably, Bishop Daly would never fully escape his role in the events of Bloody Sunday.
In fact, he once lamented that he would be forever known as “the priest with the handkerchief” over other elements of his priesthood. For all that, however, he did not shirk his part in attending the Saville Inquiry, established in 1998 to undo the accepted whitewash of Bloody Sunday that had been the earlier Widgery Inquiry.
Present on June 15, 2010 as the Saville report exonerated the 13 victims, he said: “I felt a sense of uncommon relief that this burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and the shoulders of the people in this city.
“It’s wonderful when the truth emerges, when people whose characters have been sullied are vindicated.
“It was good to have lived to witness this unforgettable day.”
The bishop emeritus was granted the freedom of Derry in 2015.
Bishop Daly died in Altnagelvin Hospital, Derry on August 8, surrounded by members of his family.
Bishop Daly was motivated by profound Christian faith
by Michael Kelly
I first met Bishop Edward Daly when I was six years old. I was an altar boy and had been charged with the heady responsibility of carrying the bishop’s crozier during his pastoral visitation to our parish.
Bishop Daly loved visiting the parishes and pioneered a process whereby he would come and spend a week at a time in a parish rather than the customary few hours around a confirmation ceremony.
I remember feeling a certain frisson at the prospect of what seemed to me such a responsibility as such a young age. There was no need. Bishop Daly immediately put me at my ease: he asked my name, enquired as to how I was, what my favourite subjects were in school and what soccer teams I had an interest in.
Ability
Edward Daly had an extraordinary ability to put people at their ease. It was something I was to see time and again over the years. I was often present at ceremonies in St Eugene’s Cathedral in Derry where Dr Daly spent a long time outside afterwards talking…and listening. He liked to listen to people and hear what was going on in their lives; what was troubling them and what their hopes and aspirations were.
He was immensely generous with his time. When I was an undergraduate student studying history, he was lavish with the hours he would give me to answer questions about the history of the diocese and the Church’s interaction with politics during the 20th Century – questions which, to him, must have seemed tedious.
Bishop Daly’s tenure in Derry took a heavy toll on him. He suffered a stroke and had to retire due to ill health while still in his fifties. But true to form, he found new life in retirement as a chaplain in the Foyle Hospice where he came in contact day and daily with the dying and their loved ones. He would later admit that the chaplaincy work was perhaps the most fulfilling ministry of his priesthood.
Edward Daly never sought out heroism – but his presence at a civil rights march in Derry was to change his life for ever and catapult him to global attention. When the British authorities built a tissue of lies around the men murdered in Bloody Sunday, the then Fr Daly knew it was his duty to tell the world what he had witnessed: cold-blooded murder by trained soldiers. The families of those who died never forgot that he stood up for their loved ones. As bishop, he took a keen interest in the welfare of prisoners and their families. He was to the fore of the campaign to free the Birmingham Six, Guilford Four and Maguire Seven – all held unjustly in British prisons for crimes them didn’t commit.
Bishop Daly has been hailed as a champion for justice and peace – this is true and richly-deserved. But, to understand this, one must understand that it was his profound Christian faith and a deep pastoral concern for those entrusted to him that motivated everything he did.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, they shall be fulfilled”. (Matthew 5: 6).