Against the Tide

by Noël Browne

  So far their concern had been strictly with temporal issues. There was a distinct cooling in the previously warm manner of the Archbishop. He questioned the right of the state to assume the responsibility of ‘the education of mothers in motherhood’, or to provide a maternity and gynaecological service for women, and claimed that these were dangerous powers for the state to arrogate to itself. He mentioned possibilities which in those days were quite unthinkable, even in many of the advanced western European countries. He postulated the inevitability of contraception and abortion.

  During the subsequent general election in 1951, these two forbidden subjects were to become examples of clerically-inspired ‘black propaganda’ and were frequently claimed to be part of my health proposals. So also was euthanasia for the aged and sterilisation for the unfit. Quickly forgotten was the fact that I was the first Cabinet minister seriously to concern myself with doing something for the sick and aged. At An Cnoc parish church in Connemara, where I spent weekends learning Irish, I was referred to during a sermon in Irish as being one of those people who ‘come amongst us disguised as friends, when meanwhile their real work is to poison the wells, and so kill off our stock’. This was clever and damaging imagery. How I valued the courage of my good friends Seosaph O Cadhain, Seán O Conghaile and others who, under such pressure, refused to disown or repudiate me.

  I reminded Dr McQuaid that 95% of our doctors, nurses and patients were Catholic. Could he not depend on his flock to obey the teachings of their church? Seemingly not. Listening to this kind of insidious and damaging innuendo, I began to realise the possibilities for misrepresentation by the hierarchy at any subsequent election. I quickly decided that with a Cabinet which was already frightened of the hierarchy and anxious to scrap the scheme, damage could be done to the no-means-test ideal if I were simply to ignore all the fears, real or imagined, of the hierarchy.

  Contrary to the image widely fostered about me as an obstinate, doctrinaire and uncompromising person, I compromised on the offending clauses. In respect of’the education of mothers’, I would reconsider these clauses and submit them to the hierarchy. Alternatively the heirarchy could consider the offending clauses and submit them to the Department of Health for improvement. Finally, since these provisions were not the most important section of the scheme, we would agree, regretfully, to withdraw the section completely if it were found impossible to agree.

  The Archbishop of Dublin is said to have described this meeting as having been ‘incredible’ during his later discussions with John Costello. He claimed that I had brushed aside all suggestions about the means test: ‘the Minister himself terminated the meeting, and walked out’. What a dilemma faces the student of history, deciding which of two bishops was lying about this meeting. According to Dr. Michael Browne, while he agreed that the meeting was contentious, his phrase was that I was truculent, and he concludes his recollection of the meeting with the words, ‘the interview ended amicably’.

  As far as I was concerned the meeting was open and frank. While having no wish to make concessions, I knew of my weak position in a wavering Cabinet, and felt that I must at least save the no-means-test principle. It was clear that the bishops would support the wealthy consultants. I felt not anger but simply astonishment that men of their profession should so blatantly side with the rich against the poor. A reasoned discussion had taken place and I had made important concessions.

  As to the charge that I left the room and slammed the door, the driver of my car could verify this to be untrue. A courteous host, Dr McQuaid left the room with me. He walked the length of the hall to the front door, enquiring for the welfare of my wife and family. Finally he bade farewell at the door of the palace. By order of the bishops I had been deprived of a witness on my side, but having met their proposals where possible, I was convinced that I had satisfied them. As far as I was concerned the matter was at an end.

  I am convinced that such would have been the case if only my Cabinet colleagues, and in particular my party leader Seán MacBride, had not wilted under the medical propaganda hostile to the health scheme. Above all, the subsequent misrepresentation from beginning to end of this whole affair emphasised the wisdom of the advice given to me by my departmental secretary, Mr. Kennedy. Long experienced in these matters, he had advised me to insist on bringing a witness on my side to any negotiations.

  I outlined the events of the afternoon to Mr. Kennedy, the concessions we should make, the reaction of the bishops and my clarification of their confused misunderstanding of the scheme. We decided that we would prepare a memorandum for submission to the hierarchy, which would be of paramount importance in the struggle to come, and include a full resumé of that meeting.

  Within days of the meeting, the memorandum was sent to the Taoiseach as a matter of courtesy, for his information. Protocol insisted that a mere Cabinet minister had no direct access to an Archbishop’s office; it was my intention that with its compromise proposals, the memorandum should and would be transmitted to the hierarchy for their detailed study. For some unexplained reason the Taoiseach did not send this document, either as a courtesy or for their information, to the hierarchy. Cabinet records show that we in the Department of Health had no difficulty either in refuting the bishops’ arguments or in correcting the errors of fact in their understanding of the scheme. The memorandum also included the significant concessions reluctantly made by my department to the objections made by the hierarchy.

  The memorandum went on: ‘The Minister respectfully desires to draw attention to the fact that, in introducing the Mother and Child scheme, the government was simply implementing the law . . . the government is merely giving effect to an act of the Oireachtas passed in 1947. To remove any possible misunderstanding about the basis of the scheme, the Minister desires to emphasise that part three of the Health Act of 1947, which became law on 13 August 1947, provided for the introduction of a mother and child health service, and determines the broad outline of such a service. Our draft scheme has been prepared to conform with, and in fact does conform with, the provisions of that 1947 Health Act.’ In order to clarify the doubts about the voluntary nature of the health service, the memorandum went on, ‘in view of the fact that the mother and child health scheme is in no sense compulsory, and that whatever guarantees the hierarchy wish in the matter of “instruction of mothers” would be unreservedly given, the Minister respectfully asks whether the Hierarchy consider the Mother and Child scheme to be contrary to Catholic moral teaching’.

  Our memorandum, sent to the Taoiseach within days of the meeting at the Archbishop’s palace, did not reach the hierarchy until after a delay of several months, on 28 March 1951. Yet it is clear from statements made by him in the Dáil that Mr. Costello was in constant verbal contact with the Archbishop during that time.

  Significance must attach to one word in my concluding request for clarification to the hierarchy. Despite the fact that I was the product of four Catholic schools, my knowledge of Catholic theology was vague and unreliable. For this reason I sought the advice of a theologian who had been recommended to me by a lawyer, Brian Walsh, who lectured at Maynooth briefly and subsequently became a member of the Supreme Court. Aware of the implications and dangers for the theologian, we took special precautions to safeguard his identity at all times. Meetings were held under the most stringent security precautions, not in the Department of Health but in Brian Walsh’s home.

  Surprisingly, still fearful of the consequences though in retirement, and having only fulfilled his duty to offer moral advice to a member of his own church, my theological adviser requested that secrecy be maintained and he continues to request anonymity to this day.

  As Bevan’s socialist national health service was freely used by Catholics in the North of Ireland without either public or private protest by the teaching authority of the church, I asked the theologian why our much less extensive mother and child health scheme was condemned by the same hierarchy in the Republic, but he could not answer my q
uestion. He was as puzzled as we were. However, he pointed out that there was an important distinction between Catholic ‘social’ and Catholic ‘moral’ teaching. The conscientious Catholic sins if he transgresses against Catholic moral teaching. There is no such sanction attached to Catholic social teaching, which varies from one period in history to another. The theologian noted that the hierarchy had carefully declined to claim that the scheme was contrary to Catholic moral teaching; there seemed to be no reason why our politicians could not, as Catholics, conscientiously agree to implement it.

  The theologian was disturbed by the position taken by certain members of the hierarchy. He was compelled to assume either that the hierarchy were uninformed on this relatively simple matter of Catholic moral teaching or, alternatively, that they were deliberately taking sides against the new health scheme. Since the hierarchy dared not publicly claim that the scheme was contrary to Catholic moral teaching, we had removed the one valid objection on religious grounds which could be held against it.

  It is now widely acknowledged that the condemnation by the bishops of the health scheme was crudely political. Unashamedly the church was ‘playing politics’ even to the point of bringing down a properly elected representative government on the issue.

  Having considered the theologian’s advice, my final memorandum was drawn up. It made significant concessions on a number of points so as to remove all possible sources for deliberate mistakes or calculated misrepresentation by the hierarchy. It then went on to challenge the hierarchy about the morality of the scheme.

  Finally, I asked the theologian a question concerning my personal position. Since I wished to survive in the years ahead in order to continue the struggle for a socially just order in the Republic, I asked what my position would be if I were to tell the bishops bluntly that I rejected their objections, as being politically motivated. Having thought carefully, he replied: ‘The Roman Catholic hierarchy must denounce you as a Catholic who no longer accepts the teaching authority of the Roman Catholic church’. I was grateful for that advice.

  I also discussed my problems with my political colleagues. Having given me their best advice, they told me that any future decisions about my personal religious or political beliefs and actions were decisions that only I could take. Undoubtedly the episcopal opposition and my condemnation by them would be exploited by my political opponents before the 95% Catholic electorate. I decided that for the present, I would try to survive.

  John Whyte, in his Church and State in Modern Ireland 1923-1979, has suggested that I seriously limited my scope for action by agreeing in advance to the bishops’ ruling. This is not true, and for this reason. The bishops are the teaching authority of the Catholic Church. The teachers or leaders of any religious group must decide on matters where their religion is concerned. Because of this, ‘I accept your ruling without question’ became an inevitable part of my letter to the hierarchy.

  Next, my question was ‘Is the scheme contrary to Catholic moral teaching?’ Inevitably the bishops’ reply was that the scheme was contrary not to Catholic ‘moral’ teaching, but to Catholic ‘social’ teaching. As already explained by my theological advisor such a decision is not binding on a conscientious Catholic under pain of sin. On the authority of the bishops I could now claim that the scheme was not immoral and that the ruling of the bishops against the scheme could be ignored by the Cabinet. My theologian had assured me that the health scheme could not be publicly condemned by even the most obscurantist bishops as contrary to Catholic moral teaching. The question was put by me so as to make that clear to both public and politicians.

  The Bishops were conceded the right to come to any conclusion they chose, but denied the right to dictate to an elected government the kind of health service that it must implement. The theologian’s advice to me was fully vindicated by subsequent events when the hierarchy would not dare put in writing whatever they might say individually and privately in order to frighten politicians in both government and opposition at all levels. The very existence of the existing free no-means-test schemes within our own social, education and health services, as well as the British national health scheme in the North, patently gave the lie to the bishops’ condemnation of the scheme.

  There are those who would say that my behaviour throughout was mildly Jesuitical. In all the circumstances of the powerful forces arraigned against me and of the grave issues of an important health service, as well as the fundamental question of ‘Who Rules?’, I felt justified.

  Many years later, at a public lecture, I questioned Dr Enda McDonagh of Maynooth on the contradictions in the history of the Catholic Church. There is a long litany of important issues about which individuals have been condemned as heretics by Rome, at times at the cost of their lives, with such condemnations later rescinded. Dr McDonagh explained these blunders by the Church as ‘the changing word in the changing world’. Dr Hans Küng explains these discrepancies as the ‘differing paradigms of Christianity adopted and up-dated to man’s intellectual and physical progress, through time’. This facility to change a fundamental truth must make the doctrine of papal infallibility a difficult one to sustain.

  In Cabinet I decided to make a stand on two issues: the fundamental rights of the electorate, with power coming from the people to the elected government, and the right of the public to a proper health service. Under no circumstances could we concede to the bishops the right to set aside a law already passed by the Oireachtas.

  Archbishop Kinane of Cashel objected to my statement of ‘acceptance’ of the episcopal ruling on the mother and child health scheme and my refusal to implement their command about the inclusion of the ‘means test’. He is quoted in the Irish Independent of 2 June 1951 as saying: ‘I have recently emphasised that certain graduates of TCD, while openly parading their Catholicity, have, at the same time, publicly set themselves up in opposition to a fundamental part of Catholic religion, namely the teaching authority and the bishops. These people are now claiming the right to determine the boundaries of their jurisdiction. They should not oppose their bishop’s teaching by word or act, or by any other way, but carry out whatever is demanded by him. They must carry out political, social and economic theories which are in harmony with God’s laws’.

  I was the only impediment to the joint plans of the hierarchy and the medical consultants to deprive the public of a fine health service; the hierarchy had become the factual instrument of government on all important social and economic policies in the Republic. Our prospects for the preservation of an effective Cabinet and a badly needed health scheme were now changed utterly.

  Of the two issues involved, the more important was no longer the mother and child scheme. The real challenge being mounted by the hierarchy was their implicit claim to be the effective government. Jack McQuillan shared my belief about this. There was no doubt that we could no longer save the health service, but it was still important to document, for the sake of the electorate, the reality of the Dáil’s subsidary role. As Seán O’Faoláin was to observe so acutely about the power of the hierarchy: ‘The lightest word from this quarter is tantamount to the raising of the sword’.

  The medical profession heard from Dr Tom O’Higgins of the dramatic dissolution of my support on all sides in the Cabinet. In turn, the hierarchy was informed by Mr Costello.

  Because I had heard nothing further from the bishops since my meeting with Dr McQuaid in October 1950, and had not been told that the bishops had not accepted my magnanimous concessions to their objections, I was genuinely surprised to receive a letter from them on 9 March 1951, in which I was bluntly told that they were still intent on preventing the implementation of the health scheme. They made it clear that their terms for settlement were ‘unconditional surrender’.

  Mr MacBride insisted that I should call on Dr Michael Browne, a member of the Episcopal Committee. Dr Browne was a big man, well over six foot tall, his height enhancing the long black soutane with its thousand and one split pea-size scar
let buttons. Meeting him, I wondered how on earth he’d have the patience to do and undo all those buttons. A concealed zip, perhaps?

  The bishop had a round soft baby face with shimmering clear cornflower-blue eyes, but his mouth was small and mean. Around his great neck was an elegant glinting gold episcopal chain with a simple pectoral gold cross. He wore a ruby ring on his plump finger and wore a slightly ridiculous tiny skull-cap on his noble head. The well-filled semi-circular scarlet silk cummerbund and sash neatly divided the lordly prince into two.

  He handed me a silver casket in which lay his impeccable hand-made cigarettes. ‘These cigarettes’, he intoned, ‘I had to have made in Bond Street’. Then he offered me a glass of champagne. ‘I always like champagne in the afternoon’, he informed me in his rich round voice. He appeared ignorant of the social solecism of mixing cigarettes and champagne. My feeling of awe was mixed with a sense of astonishment that this worldly sybarite considered himself to be a follower of the humble Nazarene.

  Our discussion on the mother and child health scheme was cursory. He showed no sign of having any serious interest in or objection to the scheme other than its cost, though later he would thunder that this was not so. Our discussion was mainly concerned with what he feared must be the increase in the ‘burden of the rates and taxes’ needed to pay for the scheme.

  It is reasonable to assume that between October 1950 and March 1951 our opponents had intrigued against us ‘secretly and behind closed doors’. These meetings were designed to undermine my position in the Dáil and in the country. Incidentally, the phrase, ‘secretly and behind closed doors’ was used by Mr Costello during his speech in the Dáil at my resignation, protesting at my publication in the national press of the correspondence containing the details of the intricate process whereby the hierarchy and the medical profession had undermined the proper authority of the Cabinet. There was no difference on this issue between Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil. In the sole comment which he was to make to me about the whole mother and child controversy some years later, de Valera admonished me, ‘You should not have published the correspondence with the hierarchy’. This distinction about what the public should and should not know was yet another difference between myself and the rest of the Dáil.