Chapter 11  

GIVING THE PEOPLE QUIET

“We have given the people quiet over the last nine months and we want to maintain that situation.”¹

JOHN A. COSTELLO, MARCH 1955

“We have done reasonably well despite the many bewildering problems with which we were confronted.”²

JOHN A. COSTELLO, NOVEMBER 1955

As the Dáil prepared to break up early in July, Costello was pleased with progress. “I believe that the new Government has got off to a good start. I felt it was vital to secure from the start public confidence in the new administration and to make it clear that there was no longer any political instability. I believe both objectives have been attained. The personnel of the new Government—particularly because of the number of young Ministers in it—has given satisfaction.”³

This point was frequently mentioned in commentary on the new government. The Leader, for instance, praised “the weight given to members of the younger generation” in the Cabinet. An editorial considered that the new Taoiseach “envisages a radical revolution of previous fiscal policy”, although it claimed this would have been easier if the Government hadn’t committed itself to restoring the butter subsidy.⁴ As well as a (relatively) youthful image, the new government also enjoyed a solid majority in the Dáil. And the Cabinet seemed likely to be more harmonious without Clann na Poblachta. As Liam Cosgrave put it many years later, there was “less nonsense talked with MacBride and Browne missing”.⁵

Shortly after Costello was elected Taoiseach, he received a courtesy call from the American Ambassador, William H. Taft III. Grandson of a president, and son of an influential senator known as “Mr Republican”, Taft was very well connected indeed. He was also friendly with Costello already, which may in part explain his flattering comparison between the new Taoiseach and his predecessor. “He does not retain the formal approach and aloofness of Mr de Valera. His manner is pleasant and unassuming. He listens to others with much greater interest and attention than his predecessor does.” However, Taft went on to observe, “I have noted that he is somewhat impressionable and that his temper is easily aroused by what he considers unreasonable.”⁶

Jack Costello would have to confront much that he considered unreasonable in his second term as Taoiseach, but for the moment things were going smoothly. Maurice Moynihan, excluded from Government meetings during the First Inter-party Government, carried out his normal duties as Secretary to the Government in the Second, making things considerably easier for Costello. The Taoiseach also had a car at his disposal again, and two Garda drivers—Sergeant Paddy Byrne, who had driven him before, and Mick Kilkenny, who found Costello to be “a thorough gentleman” who never uttered an evil word and always showed charity to others. Unlike some others over the years, he didn’t keep drivers hanging around for hours outside the house, and always ensured they had a meal.⁷ Costello rejected a Garda offer to put an unarmed patrol at his house, as had been done in 1948; in fact no special police protection arrangements were made for any of the new ministers.⁸

Ironically, the first potential crisis the Government faced concerned the same issue which helped sink the First Inter-party Government—health. As we saw in the previous chapter, Fine Gael and Labour had differed in their views on the 1953 Health Act. Now, a Fine Gael Minister for Health, Tom O’Higgins, had to implement it. During the election campaign, his Fianna Fáil predecessor, Jim Ryan, had signed a regulation requiring health authorities to provide certain services from 1 August. But according to O’Higgins, the authorities simply weren’t ready to provide the services. And if the regulation remained in force it would mean the existing limited right to hospital accommodation for dispensary patients and insured workers would in effect be abolished.⁹

That, at least, was his view. But he also realised that his Labour Party colleagues, who had supported the Act, “would not take kindly to an apparent postponement of its operation at the behest of a Fine Gael Minister”. After briefing Costello and Norton, O’Higgins went on a charm offensive with Labour TDS, culminating in an address to a meeting of the Parliamentary Labour Party. He must have been persuasive, because his position was endorsed, with Jim Larkin proposing a vote of confidence in his handling of the issue.¹⁰ Legislation postponing the implementation of the 1953 Act went through the Dáil before the summer recess. To ensure it became law before 1 August, the new Seanad was “exceptionally” summoned to meet on the earliest possible date, 22 July.¹¹

The “ticking time-bomb” left for O’Higgins by his predecessor had been defused; but the new Minister proved to have more fundamental changes to the health system in mind. An advisory body he set up in January 1955 recommended an insurance-based approach, rather than the State-funded service envisaged by both Noël Browne and Jim Ryan. Costello made his preferences clear in the Dáil some months later, when he lauded a Budget provision to give tax relief for medical insurance. “We want our people not to have their hands out to the taxpayer for their health service but rather to be enabled, out of their own resources, to establish and maintain their own independence by providing against their own ill-health … We feel that this line offers the best approach both from the point of view of the individual and of the moral law.”¹² It also fell in with the wishes of the medical profession.

The political implications of health insurance were not lost on his son-in-law, Alexis FitzGerald, who urged Costello to have O’Higgins “go to town” on the issue, as “it is desirable and would attract the middle classes”.¹³ Legislation establishing the Voluntary Health Insurance Board was introduced in 1956;¹⁴ in the words of historian Dermot Keogh this measure, which was continued by the new Fianna Fáil government in 1957, “effectively put pay to ‘socialised’ medicine in Ireland”.¹⁵ This was a victory for Fine Gael, in line with the approach championed in opposition by Costello. In particular, it showed adroit handling by O’Higgins, one of the real stars of the Second Inter-party Government, and one of the Fine Gael politicians who retained a relationship with Labour in the long years of opposition after 1957.

More fundamental than health for relations between Fine Gael and Labour was the economy. As we saw in the previous chapter, one of the first decisions of the new government was to reduce the price of butter. The new Minister for Finance, Gerard Sweetman, pointed out that this would cost £1.25 million for the year, while increased Civil Service pay sanctioned by the new government would cost another £900,000. He demanded new economies “at once” to offset this extra expenditure. “No time should be lost in pruning services and personnel regardless of the criticism which any worthwhile economies will inevitably provoke.” On 26 June, the Government agreed that each minister would examine his estimate along with Sweetman to reach agreement on economies, with disagreements being submitted to a newly established Estimates Committee, made up of Costello, Norton, Dillon and Sweetman.¹⁶ Thanks to the work of this committee, the 1955 Estimates showed a decrease of £2.75 million—as Costello pointed out in the Dáil, this was after £2 million had been spent on the butter subsidy, so the reduction on the previous government’s spending was close to £5 million.¹⁷

Clearly, if it had been up to Sweetman, the Government would have been following a more conservative economic programme. He had quickly demonstrated that he had “the strength of character and independence of outlook necessary for a Minister who hopes to maintain the ascendancy of the Department of Finance over all other Departments”.¹⁸ This did not, of course, make him popular with his colleagues. But at the end of 1954 he was still on good terms with the Taoiseach, writing a letter of thanks to Costello on Christmas Eve “for your kindness and understanding … over all the past six months. At times I fear I must have sorely tired your patience.” He concluded by referring to himself as “the most explosive member of your Cabinet”.¹⁹

Sweetman was to have cause for combustion early in the New Year. In the Dáil, he had insisted that the butter subsidy would be the last concession during the 1954/55 financial year.²⁰ But in January, the Government decided that the Exchequer should absorb an increase in the price of tea, at an estimated cost of £1.2 million. The decision was made after a special 4-hour Cabinet meeting, which also discussed the wider Exchequer position.²¹ The cost of living had been one of the main issues in the election campaign, so there was considerable pressure on the Government, especially the Labour Party, to keep prices down. As The Leader commented, “Mr Norton at least will be able to reassure Mr Larkin that the Labour tail is wagging the dog. No more unfortunate method could, however, have been chosen …”²² British Ambassador Walter Hankinson agreed, saying “this curious Conservative-Labour alliance” had struggled to reconcile its promise to reduce both the cost of living and taxation. The tea situation had intensified this difficulty “to a degree almost pathetic”. The end result “served to support the guess that Mr Norton … was being awkward to his majority colleagues”. Hankinson also pointed to the curious torpor of the Government, saying it had “transacted the minimum of essential business before the long summer recess, produced nothing of much interest during the autumn session, and adjourned … for the longest permissible Christmas recess”.²³

In February 1955, Costello told the Fine Gael Ard Fheis that on entering government, they had “no illusions as to the magnitude of the effort that would be required to repair the ravages of … three wasted years and to revitalise the Irish economy … I think I am entitled to say that we have not done too badly … the economic barometer is now steady with at least a tendency to rise …”²⁴ With some understatement, the British Embassy described the speech as “not particularly inspiring”.²⁵ In truth, it was an extraordinarily downbeat assessment, particularly for an Ard Fheis. The Government had very little to show for its efforts, apart from a reduction in the price of butter and a stabilisation of the price of tea. What had happened to Costello’s Blueprint for Prosperity, his new thinking about capital investment and the attraction of foreign capital?

During the election campaign, officials in the Department of the Taoiseach had looked at Costello’s proposal for a Capital Investment Board. A memorandum for de Valera concluded that while the proposals bore some similarities to those advanced by J.M Keynes, Costello had “given very few details”. He hadn’t, for instance, made any distinction between public and private investment. Whoever wrote the memo appeared unimpressed with the concept.²⁶ However, that was while Costello was leader of the Opposition. Once he became Taoiseach, officials dutifully began exploring the idea, seeking information from the London Embassy about how the British National Investment Council had operated. The answer was: not very well. Freddie Boland reported the impression that the Council was “purposeless and unnecessary” and had been allowed to lapse.²⁷

Costello doesn’t appear to have pushed the idea any further at this point. Instead the running was taken up by Sweetman, who proposed a “survey” of the State capital programme to find out whether “this large expenditure is contributing to national wealth and productive employment”, and whether it was correctly balanced between productive and non-productive investment.²⁸ A committee of officials, chaired by Ken Whitaker, was established, but it worked slowly. After two years, it had completed a general review and a chapter on rent control, and had done preliminary work on the ESB and housing.²⁹ The general survey suggested that “works of social benefit and works of inferior productivity which entail a redistribution rather than an increase of incomes should … be kept within bounds and a better balance struck in the State capital programme as between economic and social objectives”.³⁰ Given Costello’s vocal support for social investment in housing and hospitals, this was hardly what he was looking for. In any case, a committee of officials was emphatically not what he had advocated in opposition.

In 1956, the Commission on Emigration recommended the establishment of an Investment Advisory Council; Sweetman argued that this would serve “no useful purpose”.³¹ A similar demand from a trade union delegation in June of that year provoked a defensive response from the Taoiseach. He said he had advocated the establishment of a Capital Investment Board, and he hadn’t changed his mind. But, he added rather lamely, “the Government could not do everything at once”.³² Costello did manage to include the Capital Investment Committee as part of his landmark economic speech in October 1956 (see Chapter 13). But the fact that it took two and a half years, and a desperate economic situation, before he could get his idea adopted as Government policy, speaks volumes about the limits on his influence, even as Taoiseach.

It was the same story with his other big idea, that of opening up the Irish economy to more foreign investment. As we saw in Chapter 7, he had in 1948 described the Control of Manufactures Act as “outmoded and outdated” and “humbug”.³³ But little had been done during the term of his first government to address this issue. Second time around, he appeared more anxious to act. On 25 June 1954, the Taoiseach asked the Department of Industry and Commerce to examine possible changes to the Control of Manufactures Acts, which ensured factories were Irish-owned and Irish-financed. He wanted to know if the legislation should be amended “so as to permit, subject to any necessary safeguards, a greater inflow of external capital into Irish industry”.³⁴

A powerful head of steam was building up for change; in January 1955, the State investment bank, the ICC, called for relaxations to the Control of Manufactures Act.³⁵ The Central Bank and the Department of Finance also called for changes to the restrictions on foreign capital, although they thought the Act was so “outmoded and unsound” that it should be repealed rather than amended.³⁶ Change was also urged by two members of the Commission on Emigration, economist James Meenan and Costello’s son-in-law Alexis FitzGerald. The latter argued that “no other well-intentioned legislation has so retarded the progress of industry”. FitzGerald pointed out that if capital was important, then “intelligent experienced capital, i.e. capital in the control of experienced entrepreneurs, is most vital”.³⁷

But Industry and Commerce was having none of it. In September 1954, Norton said his Department did not believe amendment was necessary, while repeal would be “a breach of faith towards those who have set up factories here on the basis of the existence of the Acts”. The memorandum warned that allowing uncontrolled access to foreign capital would lead to “the danger of exploitation for selfish purposes [which] would constitute a grave threat to existing and future industrial development”. Norton suggested instead that the Government should indicate it wanted to encourage external capital with “some form of brochure dealing generally with the opportunities offered by this country to foreign investors”.³⁸

When, some months later, Costello’s private secretary mentioned that nothing had actually been done about restrictions on foreign capital, “the Taoiseach referred to the evident reluctance of the Department of Industry and Commerce to amend the Acts and stated that, in these circumstances, no further action was called for …”³⁹ It was an extraordinary admission of helplessness by the Taoiseach.⁴⁰ As with the Capital Investment Board, further moves on foreign capital would be included in Costello’s October 1956 speech, but in the meantime, some progress was made in attracting investment from abroad, even without fundamental changes to existing legislation.

Norton’s brochure, Window into Ireland, was produced in August 1955. The Tánaiste managed to generate considerable interest among investors in visits to Germany and the United States.⁴¹ The Government also accepted an Anglo-American oil company’s proposal to build an oil refinery in Cork. These moves led to criticism from de Valera and other supporters of the traditional policy.⁴² Costello vigorously defended the attraction of foreign investment in a speech to the Federation of Irish Manufacturers in February 1956. He insisted that foreign industrialists were being encouraged to establish factories to produce goods not already produced in Ireland, or produced in insufficient quantities, and in particular goods for export. The view that complete national control of industry must at all costs be preserved was, he argued, “incompatible with our large scale emigration, our substantial unemployment and our expressed determination to provide a decent livelihood here for our people”. Adequate powers remained to protect the national interest. But it was clear that Ireland was “in danger of missing the tide if we do not press ahead vigorously now with our policy of accelerating industrial development by inducing foreign industrialists to invest in this country”.⁴³

In the meantime, the economic situation had begun to worsen. In July 1955, Costello told the Dáil that the balance of payments would be kept under review, but he didn’t believe “we need fear any crisis before the end of the present year”. He added that credit restriction and import controls aimed at controlling a deficit tended to “bring other evils in their train”. Prevention, he said, was better than cure.⁴⁴ However, his optimism proved unfounded, and prevention ineffective. The balance of payments deficit increased from £5.5 million in 1954 to £35.6 million at the end of 1955. A number of factors were blamed—agricultural and other exports to Britain had fallen because of the deflationary policy being followed by the Government there, while consumer spending at home rose after a national wage increase.⁴⁵

But there may have been another factor—the Government’s decision in February 1955 not to follow an increase in British interest rates. This was the first time an Irish government had followed such an independent course, and Costello explained that it did so on the basis that “adjustments of this kind should be dictated by our own interest rather than by events and conditions elsewhere”.⁴⁶ It also helped to keep the cost of living down, and was politically popular.

But Cormac Ó Gráda and Patrick Honohan have argued convincingly that the decision to hold interest rates down was a major factor in the balance of payments crisis. Of the £50 million deterioration they calculate in net foreign assets in 1955, they estimate that £10 million was due to a fall in exports (largely in cattle), £17 million to extra imports, and no less than £22 million to a turnaround in private non-bank capital flows. This they mainly attribute to firms repaying loans from British banks by borrowing from Irish banks at lower interest rates. The decision to delay interest rates was, they argue, “a policy blunder. The authorities simply failed to observe the implied interest rate discipline of the fixed exchange rate and integrated financial market with Britain.”⁴⁷

This connection between interest rate policy and the balance of payments wasn’t fully recognised at the time. For Sweetman, it was 1952 all over again. Like MacEntee, he believed the main problem was consumer spending, and that deflation was the way to choke this off and restore the balance of payments. His colleagues, particularly Norton and Costello, were inclined to follow the policy they had advocated in 1951/52—do nothing, and wait for the imbalance to work itself out. Eventually, though, Sweetman had his way, introducing curbs on consumer spending at the start of 1956, including import levies and new taxes on consumer goods. Predictably, these had the same effect as MacEntee’s Budget of 1952—increased unemployment and emigration—while the balance of payments was already sorting itself out unaided.⁴⁸ The Government also backtracked on its interest rate policy. Costello announced at the start of 1956 that a “temporary” increase in rates was needed, because the problems in the balance of payments were “no mere self-regulating deficit, but a deficit which if left unchecked might well grow out of hand”.⁴⁹

Despite the problems with the balance of payments, there were some grounds for optimism about the economy. As Costello told the February 1956 Fine Gael Ard Fheis, unemployment was just 6.8 per cent, the lowest recorded up to then. Although this may have been due to increased emigration rather than job creation, the Taoiseach could also point to an extra 7,000 people in industrial employment over the 1953 figure, while 1955 had seen a 3.5 per cent increase in manufacturing production over the previous year. “The economy in general is sound. It may be that our people desire the Government to go too quickly towards the achievement of their aims. We have always insisted that we cannot do everything and certainly we cannot do everything at once.”⁵⁰ Costello and his colleagues seem to have believed that if the balance of payments problem could be resolved, they would be set fair to resume a policy of economic expansion. That view may have been unrealistic, given the underlying problems in the Irish economy and society revealed in the 1956 census. In any case, the Suez Crisis was about to fundamentally change the economic outlook.

Economic tensions were naturally evident at Cabinet. According to Patrick Lindsay, who joined the Cabinet in late 1956, the three most influential people around the table were the Taoiseach, Attorney General Patrick McGilligan, and Sweetman. Another strong influence was James Dillon. According to Lindsay, if Dillon spotted a potential difficulty, he would begin by saying he wanted to sound a “Three Bell Warning”. “When James sounded the ‘Three Bell Warning’, we all listened with respect and in the majority of cases accepted his judgement.”⁵¹ Dillon of course was now a Fine Gael minister, rather than an Independent, and he found the change not to his liking. He complained in his memoir that he had to bring his proposals to the parliamentary party first, “where every jealousy and cross-current could be manifested, and every mischief-maker and pest busied himself to make difficulties. One had to fight one’s way through the party, and then go through the whole procedure again in cabinet. So I did not so much enjoy being a Fine Gael Minister.”⁵²

The feeling was reciprocated by some of his party colleagues. John O’Donovan told the American Embassy in March 1955 that Dillon might be sacked, as he was proving an embarrassment and had alienated farmers. “He said that when Dillon agreed to receive a farmers’ delegation he would first insult them collectively and before the audience was over would usually insult each member individually.” O’Donovan observed that Dillon would only listen to two members of the Government: “He would do what Mr Costello told him to do, and Mr McGilligan had at times the power of persuasion over him.” O’Donovan believed either Sweetman or Cosgrave might replace Dillon: “They both were quiet, would listen to delegations and reason with them, and did not ‘blow off steam’ in public.” He also believed he might be considered for the position himself.⁵³ O’Donovan’s comments may have been wishful thinking, but they indicate a certain disquiet about Dillon that is understandable given his contribution to the collapse of the First Inter-party Government.

The other major figure in Cabinet was Norton, the Tánaiste and Labour leader. Lindsay believed him the best speaker in the Dáil—not excluding Dillon and Costello—saying he was “incisive, sharp and devastating in debate”. He recalled Norton persuading the Cabinet not to lay off turf workers. “Look, the difference between their wages and what you get on the dole is about a pound or thirty shillings. Why cause an upheaval of this kind when it’s not going to cost the country that much?”⁵⁴ Not that Norton and his colleagues could ever be described as radical. As The Leader dryly noted, the Government was conservative, and while some ministers were described as Labour, a stranger “would be unlikely to pick them out from their colleagues on the strength of their public utterances”. The same piece also asked whether Labour’s main achievement in government, the retention of food subsidies, was really the best way limited public funds could be used to help the less well off, claiming that if the money had been used to boost social welfare payments instead, benefits would have been increased by 60 per cent.⁵⁵

However, the retention of food subsidies was vital if wage claims were to be kept under control. In February 1955, the Congress of Irish Unions gave notice to the employers’ body that it was terminating the 1952 wage agreement. Unions claimed wages had fallen behind prices; in fact, according to statistics prepared for the Taoiseach, earnings had gained slightly against prices between 1951 and 1954.⁵⁶ However, perception is more important than statistical reality, and the perception among workers was that they had fallen behind, which was a problem for the Government, particularly Labour.

When the Dáil resumed after the 1955 summer break, Fianna Fáil sought to take advantage of this perception. Lemass put down a motion of no confidence in the Government, on the grounds of its “failure to prevent the increase in the cost of living”.⁵⁷ The Government argued that it had done all it could to control inflation, and that the effect of increases in the cost of living had been mitigated by increased industrial and agricultural earnings, and by the restoration of public confidence in the economy.⁵⁸ Costello indignantly denied promising to reduce prices during the general election, comparing Fianna Fáil “lies” on this issue to the propaganda techniques of Hitler and Goebbels (how this was not found to be “unparliamentary” language is not clear). He said his government had said it would try to control the cost of living—and, if this proved impossible, to allow incomes to rise. He also claimed that the Government had kept the cost of living down by not following the British interest rate increase. And he pointed out that unemployment in the third quarter of 1955 was the lowest recorded up to then, at 5.4 per cent.⁵⁹ The Government comfortably won the vote. In a subsequent by-election campaign, Costello claimed the no-confidence motion had had the effect “of demonstrating the unshakeable unity and strength of the present Inter-party Government, and of consolidating the Parties behind the present Government”.⁶⁰

Unions and employers were unable to reach agreement on a general wages policy, and in mid-1956, the employers sought Government intervention. When representatives of the two sides met Costello, Norton and Sweetman, they rehearsed their grievances. Costello adopted a hands-off approach, advising them to hold direct negotiations, and “if necessary” come back to the Government. However, it was clear that there was something the Government could do to help keep a lid on inflationary pressure. One of the union representatives made it clear that “any interference with food subsidies would certainly be followed by a demand for wage increases”.⁶¹ Despite the parlous economic situation, the Inter-party Government left food subsidies alone, and in October the trade union movement decided not to begin a campaign for a national wage increase.⁶² However, when the new Fianna Fáil government abolished the subsidies, unions announced they would be seeking higher wages to compensate their members,⁶³ thus sparking another wave of industrial unrest.

The only change to Costello’s second Cabinet was the appointment of Patrick Lindsay as Minister for the Gaeltacht in October 1956. According to Lindsay, he was approached about the move a year earlier by Costello, who was “clearly worried about the way in which the Government was operating and by a lack of energy in some areas”. Costello told Lindsay that he was to be appointed Parliamentary Secretary to Mulcahy, and that when the new Department was set up, he would take over at Education while Mulcahy became head of the new Department of the Gaeltacht. Whether or not that was the original plan, it didn’t work out that way; Mulcahy remained in Education, and Lindsay was appointed the first Minister for the Gaeltacht.⁶⁴

In his second government, as in his first, Costello frequently had to act as referee between feuding ministers. For the obvious reason that he was in charge of the purse strings, Sweetman was frequently one of those involved; Norton was frequently his sparring partner, as the interests of Industry and Commerce and Finance clashed.⁶⁵ But where did the Taoiseach stand on the conflict between Finance and the other Departments? A very good indication is given by the serious row between Norton and Sweetman in 1956 over the future of the railways. In June of that year, the Board of CIÉ appealed to the Government to take action to “prevent the collapse of public transport” and save the railways. A committee of investigation, chaired by Dr J.P. Beddy, was established to report on the future of public transport.

A Finance memorandum was sent to the committee, arguing that “railways have outlived their economic utility”; that investment in railways “can no longer be regarded as capital expenditure which could properly be met by borrowing since the railways cannot be made solvent”; and that rail should be replaced by road transport as quickly as possible. Norton was furious, writing to Beddy to assure him the memorandum did not represent Government policy. Separately, he accused Sweetman of “an unpardonable breach of propriety”, saying the more he thought about it, the more appalled he became. He complained to Costello that it was “simply outrageous that one Government Department, irrespective of the Government’s views, should seek to accomplish the abolition of the railways”. Sweetman argued that the committee was supposed to hear the views of all interested parties, and Finance was obviously interested as it would have to come up with whatever funding was needed.

Getting wind of the memorandum, Seán MacBride wrote a strong protest to Costello, warning that he would publicly oppose any move to destroy the railways, adding that such a policy was “tantamount to political suicide. The Government is already unpopular enough without, on the eve of a by-election in the one ‘railway constituency’ we have [Louth], advocating the scrapping of the railways.” Costello assured him the Government “have not entirely lost all political sense! … You may take it that this … is merely a Finance memorandum. The Government … are not bound by it in any way … The memorandum was sent by the Department as an expression of an extreme orthodox financial view.”⁶⁶ What is perhaps most significant about this episode is the evident distaste Costello felt for the “extreme orthodox” views of Finance as the Government headed into its final months.

It also demonstrated that MacBride, unsurprisingly, was not content to silently support the new government. Despite his decision not to take a Cabinet seat, he had an elevated view of his own importance. When a committee was set up to represent backbench members of Fine Gael, Labour, Clann na Talmhan and Clann na Poblachta, he quickly became its leading light, acting as liaison between the committee and Costello. In April 1955 he wrote to the Taoiseach, expressing the hope that the committee “will be able to do useful work. There is a wide field of policy and administration over which there is little or no controversy but which … receives but scant attention.” He attached a list of the matters the committee members would like to raise with ministers—a very comprehensive list indeed, and one which reflected many of MacBride’s own obsessions, such as forestry.

His suggestion that the committee should have a chance of discussing these matters directly with the ministers involved was underlined by Costello—he clearly felt MacBride had to be humoured and kept on side. And the Clann leader was not disposed to be trifled with. He asked Costello to ensure that ministers were “as co-operative as possible in their relations with the Committee”. After all, he pointed out, the members had the “task of allaying the criticism of their own organisations and friends … Where a committee of this kind unanimously makes a suggestion which is not contrary to Government policy, it is essential that they should be satisfied.”⁶⁷ Seán MacEntee suggested that MacBride had acted as “the fixer” for the Government on this committee, the aim of which was “to persuade the doubtful and to silence critics among the rank and file … He had invariably succeeded in securing acceptance of the Government’s programme and it was very largely due to his talent for equivocation that the Coalition had held together.”⁶⁸

MacBride also urged new economic thinking on the Government, suggesting to Costello in November 1955 that Italy’s Vanoni Plan “is well worth looking at. Many of Italy’s problems are similar to ours.” MacBride had prepared a report on the Plan as rapporteur to a committee on economic questions of the Council of Europe.⁶⁹ The Plan proposed the creation of employment through investment in “impulse sectors” such as agriculture, public utilities and public works. It had also attracted the attention of Seán Lemass, who used it as the blueprint for proposals he prepared with the help of Todd Andrews and outlined in a speech to a Fianna Fáil meeting in Clery’s Ballroom in October 1955.⁷⁰ The Taoiseach dismissed Lemass’s plan, claiming that because it ignored agriculture, it had “no more solid basis than a froth of words”.⁷¹

MacBride also maintained his interest in foreign affairs, urging Costello in October 1956 to send food and medical supplies to help the people of Hungary “in their heroic struggle for national liberty and religious and political freedom”. He (immodestly) added that he would “willingly place myself at the Government’s disposal” if his services could be of use. After all, he “personally knew” Austrian Foreign Minister Dr Figl and the Hungarian exile leaders.⁷² The following month he wrote to Liam Cosgrave, in New York for the UN General Assembly, advising him that he had been asked by the Greeks to travel to New York to advise them on Cyprus. He told his successor that he had asked US Ambassador Bill Taft to find out what the State Department’s view was, and suggested rather imperiously that Cosgrave or Freddie Boland “may have an opportunity of putting out some feelers about it too”.⁷³ Cosgrave mordantly observed to Costello that MacBride’s ideas on Cyprus “are quite impracticable and unlikely to appeal to anyone, even Greece … I need hardly say that his presence here would be no assistance … but, if he has decided to come, I suppose there is little we can do about it.”⁷⁴

Shortly afterwards, the Government would be wishing MacBride had remained distracted by foreign affairs. In fairness, MacBride must have felt at least a twinge of jealousy at the role being played on the world stage by Cosgrave. This role was made possible by Ireland’s admission, after a 10-year wait, to the United Nations, and will be examined in the next chapter. Like O’Higgins, Cosgrave was one of the successes of this Cabinet, another astute appointment of a young man to an important portfolio.

The Republic’s admission to the United Nations was viewed with some apprehension north of the Border. In Belfast, Prime Minister Lord Brookeborough felt it was inevitable that the Irish delegation would attempt to raise partition. In that event, the Northern Cabinet felt that the British delegation should include a representative of Northern Ireland to counteract such propaganda.⁷⁵ This view was understandable given the record of MacBride in Costello’s first government. But Costello, like Cosgrave, was determined not to try to repeat the “sore thumb” policy of MacBride.

Shortly after the election, the new Taoiseach discussed the North with Vincent MacDowell, who had unsuccessfully contested Dublin South-East for Labour. MacDowell knew what he was talking about. A former IRA activist, he was interned in Belfast Jail during the Second World War, but had since adopted a more peaceful approach—he was later to be a founder member of the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association (and later still a Green Party councillor in Dun Laoghaire).⁷⁶ His advice to Costello was simple: do as little as possible. “If the Irish Government plays a waiting game of caution and inactivity, it will be speeding the process of change in the North … openly encourage the maximum amount of economic co-operation and public friendship. At all times strive publicly to reduce the tension and promote goodwill between the Unionists and ourselves, and lower the intensity of feeling on all sides. Avoid flamboyant gestures and inflammatory speeches like the plague. On an unofficial level, they merely irritate, on an official level they provide the badly-needed rallying point for disintegrating Unionist sentiment …” MacDowell pointedly referred to the Chapel Gate election of 1949 as an example of counterproductive campaigning.⁷⁷

But other elements had different ideas. Just 10 days after the new government took office, the IRA carried out a daylight arms raid on Gough Barracks in Armagh. Fifteen men, some of them in British Army uniform, got away with nearly 300 rifles and automatic weapons without firing a shot.⁷⁸ The drift towards violence in the North was accelerated by the actions of Liam Kelly, who, after being expelled from the IRA, founded a breakaway Republican paramilitary group, Saor Uladh, with a political wing, Fianna Uladh. In 1953 he was elected to Stormont for Mid-Tyrone, but his victory speech was judged to be seditious and he was sentenced to six months in prison. However, Seán MacBride had plans for Kelly, and in the summer of 1954, he and the other Clann na Poblachta Oireachtas members nominated him for the Seanad. His address on the ballot paper was given as Crumlin Road Jail. Perhaps as a consequence, he was elected on the first count on the Labour Panel.⁷⁹

The publicity attracted by Kelly—and in particular his election to the Seanad—caused disquiet among mainstream Nationalists in the North. Shortly after his election, Cahir Healy wrote to Costello, advancing the old appeal for admission of Northern representatives to the Dáil. In addition to the usual arguments, he now had a new one: if constitutional nationalists were excluded, while Kelly was a senator, “it may well be assumed in the North that the physical force policy is the only one which meets with approval down here”.⁸⁰

In advance of Kelly’s expected release from prison in August, Costello was invited by Fianna Uladh to attend the welcome home celebrations in Pomeroy. The Taoiseach politely declined, but expressed his “pleasure that Mr Kelly will shortly regain his freedom and that he will be available to take his place as a member of Seanad Éireann … after the summer recess”.⁸¹ The homecoming, addressed by MacBride, degenerated into a riot when the RUC tried to seize Tricolours under the recently introduced Flags and Emblems Act.⁸² 40 people, including nine policemen, were injured.⁸³

IRA arms raids continued. In October, five soldiers were shot during a raid on a depot in Omagh, leading to what was described as “the most intensive man-hunt ever undertaken in Northern Ireland”.⁸⁴ The Gardaí reported that this was an official IRA action (as opposed to Liam Kelly’s escapades), with a strong input from the Dublin battalion. The report added that the Dublin IRA had in recent times concentrated on training in “commando” tactics—“it now seems obvious why this kind of training was so dominant”.⁸⁵ In response, Costello convened a meeting with the Garda Commissioner and the Secretaries of the Departments of Justice and Defence, along with the Tánaiste and the Ministers for Justice and Defence.⁸⁶

Costello explained his Northern policy to the Dáil later that month, during a debate on a motion put down by Jack McQuillan calling for the admission of Northern representatives. The result was never in question, as Fianna Fáil joined Fine Gael in opposing the motion. However, Clann na Poblachta and Labour (including Norton and the other ministers) voted in favour. Costello didn’t seem too bothered by the lack of Inter-party unity. Although Fine Gael didn’t allow a free vote, he acknowledged that others might take a different line. “On this matter, I have said that each individual is free to do as he liked.” More important, he said, was his statement of Government policy on partition and the use of force. In this, he passionately defended the elected government’s Constitutional monopoly of force, and argued that coercion of Unionists would not only be wrong, it would be counterproductive. “Let us have a united nation, but let it be a union of free men and not a united nation in which a fifth of the population have been cowed by force or fear and feel themselves enslaved … There are some people who are prepared to die for Ireland; I want to appeal to the youth of Ireland to live and work for Ireland. That is the best contribution they can give to the solution of Partition.”⁸⁷

The next day’s Irish Times, which deplored Norton’s vote, strongly praised Costello’s “statesmanlike” speech: “both his own and his party’s prestige has been enhanced as a consequence”⁸⁸—although it should be remembered that Costello had said similar things before. The Irish Times may have been impressed; the Army Council of the IRA was not. In a statement issued in November, it attacked both Costello and Kelly without naming either. No Republican, it insisted, could give allegiance to either of the states established by the British; by implication, becoming a member of the Seanad was a betrayal. The IRA also dismissed the declaration of a republic. It had done “nothing more than make confusion more confounded, and the glib use of such terms as ‘freedom in this part of Ireland’ has served only to lull the youth of the country into a false sense of national well-being”. By using one of Costello’s favourite phrases, the Army Council made it clear who it was talking about. The statement then went on to promise a “carefully planned and progressive policy of opposition to the British occupation forces in the Six Counties”, adding that the campaign would be conducted “with charity towards all, with malice towards none”⁸⁹ (except, presumably, Britain).

The British Ambassador praised Costello’s “important and forthright attack upon the use of violence by unconstitutional bodies”, but said Labour’s attitude “must be regarded with concern”, even thought the motion in question did not deal directly with theIRA.⁹⁰A very different picture was being presented to the Commonwealth Office by Freddie Boland, the Irish Ambassador to London. He told Sir Percival Liesching, Permanent Under Secretary, that while the Labour ministers “had been rather half-hearted in the discussions of anti-IRA policy … the issue had been thrashed out most firmly by the Prime Minister [sic] and others”. He added that the most important part of Costello’s speech had been approved by Cabinet and “was therefore a definite declaration of considered Government policy”. Boland then went on to assert that the Government “meant business” and was determined “to take extremely strong action against the IRA”. Speaking in confidence, he told Liesching that the Gardaí were preparing for a “swoop” designed to forcibly suppress the organisation. “Mr Boland said that when the time came there could be no half-measures. Ordinary judicial processes would have to be suspended and military courts set up and wired camps installed for the detention of several hundreds who would be arrested.” In these circumstances, he argued, it would be counterproductive for Dublin to receive demands from London to take action against the IRA.⁹¹

The British then waited—in vain—for the promised action against the IRA. In mid-December, Boland was summoned back to the CRO to explain. Liesching pointed out that he had been led to believe that action would be taken within weeks, but was obliged to admit that the Irish Ambassador had never actually committed himself to a timescale. Pressed further, Boland indicated that the Government was worried that public opinion would not support drastic action, that there was still some Labour sympathy towards theIRA, and that in any case there had been no further violence since Costello’s Dáil statement. Liesching recorded two impressions—that the Irish Government was anxious to avoid taking extreme measures, and that Boland himself “would prefer to see the more drastic course taken”.⁹²

In January, Commonwealth Secretary Lord Swinton told his Cabinet colleagues that the Dublin Government “were evidently apprehensive that there would not be a sufficient body of public support in the Republic for drastic action to suppress the IRA”. He raised the apparent change of heart with Boland some days later. The Ambassador “deprecated the notion that his Government had got cold feet or had failed to carry their Labour colleagues with them … the Government had felt they were taking a more statesmanlike course”. Swinton, however, was not convinced. “I have little doubt myself that the Government did get cold feet, that they had trouble inside their Cabinet, and that they felt they were not strong enough to carry out their original intention.”⁹³

In public, meanwhile, Costello was reiterating his more conciliatory policy towards the North. In an important interview with the Yorkshire Post in January, he expressed his willingness to meet Brookeborough “at any time to discuss matters of common interest”, hoping that such discussions would engender goodwill, preparing the ground for “the ultimate eradication of the root of all evil—Partition”.⁹⁴ In Brookeborough’s absence his deputy, Brian Maginess, said his government had no objection to discussing matters of common concern—so long as Éire was prepared to accept that partition was “a matter which has been finally determined”.⁹⁵

Costello, of course, was not prepared to accept any such thing. In a reply to Maginess, he pointed out that there had been no precondition about accepting partition during discussions on the River Erne, the Great Northern Railway or the Foyle Fisheries. No Irish government could accept such a position, he said, adding for good measure that the only way that partition could be finally determined “will be by its ending”.⁹⁶ On the surface, the spat strengthened divisions. But, as The Leader perceptively pointed out, Costello’s original statement implied that improved relations would have to precede discussion of partition. This, it suggested, was a welcome change “from policies which tended to stress the main point of disagreement rather than the many points of contact which exist between the divided parts of the whole country”. The magazine also pointed out that Maginess had annoyed the Orange Order (as Minister for Home Affairs he had banned a number of marches through Nationalist areas)—as an aspirant to party leadership he had “seized the opportunity presented by the Taoiseach to demonstrate his ‘Ulster’ patriotism”.⁹⁷

In the long run, this stand did Maginess no good—Brookeborough demoted him to Attorney General under pressure from right-wingers. But Costello’s approach arguably laid the groundwork for a friendlier relationship with Belfast. It also encouraged a more conciliatory attitude from Fianna Fáil. In his 1957 Ard Fheis speech, de Valera suggested the best way to solve the problem of partition was to have the closest possible relations with the people of the Six Counties, “and get them to combine with us in matters of common concern”.⁹⁸ Lemass has—rightly—received much credit for his opening to the North, but he was building on foundations laid by his two predecessors. And, of course, the policy could not succeed until Brookeborough was replaced by Terence O’Neill.

In April, a group of Six Counties nationalists asked for a meeting with the Taoiseach. Faced with a challenge from Sinn Féin, they were looking for financial support for the Westminster election to be held the following month. Costello told the Secretary to the Government, Maurice Moynihan, that financial support was already being given to the Anti-Partition of Ireland League in Britain, apparently out of the confidential Secret Service vote.⁹⁹ Before meeting the nationalists, the Taoiseach suggested to MacBride, a trustee of the Mansion House Fund, that the balance in the Fund could be used to help nationalist candidates. But the Clann leader refused, as his party and Kelly’s Fianna Uladh “could not oppose ‘the boys in jail’”.¹⁰⁰ Deprived of this potentially useful source of funding, Costello set up a Cabinet committee of himself, Norton, Mulcahy, Everett and Cosgrave to keep the matter under review and take any necessary action.¹⁰¹

MacBride had managed to scupper the attempt to support non-violent methods in the North—an ominous portent for future Government policy. The American Embassy referred to MacBride’s “affinity for the IRA and his apparent ability to obtain ‘protection’ for the IRA from the Irish Government”. This led the Embassy to believe “that MacBride’s present connection with the IRA may be much more active and direct than is generally believed”.¹⁰² This was undoubtedly an overstatement of MacBride’s involvement—the same could not be said of some other members of the Clann. And MacBride remained closely allied to Liam Kelly, the senator whose anti-partition activities were about to escalate.

Over the summer of 1955, the IRA raided two Army barracks in Britain for arms; British Cabinet Secretary Sir Norman Brook drafted a note “in friendly terms” to Dublin seeking improved police co-operation, arguing that if they wanted Irish co-operation, the letter “must not be too stiff”. Prime Minister Anthony Eden, however, “toughened up” this draft. “I know that we have to take account of Irish feelings, but one day this message may be published, and there are British feelings to be considered too.”¹⁰³ But the latestIRA activities were once again overshadowed by Liam Kelly’s activities.

In November 1955, Kelly led members of his Saor Uladh organisation in an attack on Roslea RUC barracks in County Fermanagh. One of the attackers was killed in the raid; his body was brought back across the Border and buried after an inquest held in secret in the middle of the night.¹⁰⁴ The Secretary of the Department of Justice said the “police on the spot … adopted an attitude of extreme reserve so that their investigation of the affair might not be hampered … [but] they seem to have carried caution too far …”¹⁰⁵ At a by-election meeting in Limerick, Costello indignantly denied that the Government or senior Gardaí had ordered the inquest to be held in secret. He also pointed out that those who wished to use violence to coerce Unionists into a united Ireland “are repeating the error the British made with us … What kind of unity would be established as the result of unlawful force causing civil war—even if successful?”¹⁰⁶ But the bizarre nature of the inquest was only a detail; the real significance of Roslea, according to the Irish Times, was that gunmen believed the Republic was “a place of sanctuary for them … That attitude is based on the obvious unwillingness of the Government to adopt a strong and realistic policy in dealing with illegal organisations … words are not enough …”¹⁰⁷

But words were all the Government was prepared to offer. On 30 November Costello made a major statement in the Dáil on partition and the use of force. The lines of his speech were approved in advance by Cabinet.¹⁰⁸ The roots of the violence, he insisted, lay in partition; those who created and sustained partition therefore bore the “primary responsibility” for the existence of violence. But, “in stating where the responsibility for the evil lies, I do not condone the evil itself”. For the use of force was evil, and would lead to civil war with Unionists. The men of violence were guilty of “unpatriotic conduct [which] dishonours the national institutions established with so much difficulty over so many years and challenges the Constitution freely enacted by the people”. If the men of violence did not respond to his appeal, he said, “then the duty of the Government is clear … We are bound to ensure that unlawful activities of a military character shall cease, and we are resolved to use, if necessary, all the powers and forces at our disposal to bring such activities effectively to an end.”¹⁰⁹

It was, Archbishop McQuaid told him, “very well done indeed, clear and temperate”.¹¹⁰ Too temperate, according to US Ambassador Bill Taft, who questioned “whether the Government’s warning words will deter the fanatical members of unlawful Irish militant organisations from perpetrating further acts of violence in Northern Ireland”. His scepticism seemed to be endorsed by a report later in the month from the Embassy’s Second Secretary, who reported that “the Irish police do not plan to take any action to stop the recruiting, drilling or the possession of illegal arms by the IRA or other militant groups in Ireland”.¹¹¹ The British Ambassador urged on Liam Cosgrave the need to take action to prevent the south being used as a sanctuary by terrorists. While he reported that Cosgrave “showed some uneasiness on this score”, he got no promises of action.¹¹² This attitude gravely disappointed the Stormont government, which urged London to apply pressure “to ensure that the authorities in Dublin would take effective steps to put down the IRA”.¹¹³ That organisation, meanwhile, seems to have believed that an absence of violence in the Republic would save it from the threatened crackdown. As one supporter put it, “no member of the IRA was engaged in subversive activities against the 26 Counties, and … the Government of that State had no right whatsoever to dictate policy in the northern State, which was outside its jurisdiction”.¹¹⁴ The irony of this partitionist attitude didn’t seem to occur to the author.

Costello’s approach of threatening rather than taking action was widely attributed to the need to keep Government supporters on side—not just in Clann na Poblachta, but in Labour too. The Leader, for instance, suggested that the Taoiseach’s difficulty in drafting his statement was “to ensure that it would have the full approval of all his Inter-party colleagues as a formal statement of Government policy”. The writer added that the solid support given to Costello by Labour TDS made it “a much more telling declaration than would have been a verbally more sweeping one from which there might have been an element of Labour dissent”.¹¹⁵ The difficulty of keeping MacBride on side was obviously even greater.

Such political considerations must have played a part; but Costello’s approach was entirely consistent with his views on the use of emergency powers. As we saw in Chapter 3, he believed such powers were only useful as a deterrent, and said of Article 2A, his own contribution to emergency laws, that “every person that went to prison under that Article was a monument to the failure of that Article”.¹¹⁶ Despite his reluctance to resort to emergency powers, he reminded newspaper editors at the beginning of December that the Offences Against the State Act was still in force—and that they were prohibited from publishing certain matters.¹¹⁷ Section 2 of that Act banned the use of “words, abbreviations, or symbols referable to a military body in reference to an unlawful organisation”, and every copy of a newspaper breaching this provision was a seditious document.¹¹⁸ He had strong views on media responsibility in this area, later saying it wasn’t just the teaching of history which glorified the use of arms “but the action of many newspapers in featuring and emphasising this facet of our history, even at times when the use of arms was being advocated for the solution of the problem of Partition”.¹¹⁹ But while those prepared to use arms had been given a stark warning by the Government, they were also under increasing pressure to take action because of the activities of Liam Kelly.¹²⁰ Their decision to launch the Border Campaign in late 1956 would prove a military disaster; but by calling Costello’s bluff, they indirectly caused the fall of his second government, as we will see in Chapter 13.

If Costello’s approach to the North was more nuanced in his second term, so too was his approach to the Catholic hierarchy. He remained, of course, highly deferential to the bishops, particularly to Archbishop John Charles McQuaid, but he was also prepared to show some independence when it suited him, the most notable example being the Agriculture Institute. However, there were limits to this independence, and Costello was usually careful to ensure he had McQuaid’s support.

In July 1956, the Bishop of Killaloe sent a blistering letter of complaint to Costello after attending the trial of a priest and nine laymen accused of assaulting two Jehovah’s Witnesses. Bishop Joseph Rodgers bitterly attacked the Attorney General for allowing a case to proceed against a priest who had been “upholding and defending the fundamental truths of our treasured Catholic Faith” against blasphemy. The court evidently agreed, because while the charges against the assailants were dropped, the two victims were bound to the peace! Given Costello’s reputation for supine acceptance of clerical dictation, a conciliatory reply might have been accepted. Instead, the Taoiseach told Rodgers that the law must take its course once a complaint was made, and that anyone believing blasphemy to have been committed should report it to the Gardaí. “I do not need to remind Your Lordship of the grave evils that would ensue if it came to be accepted that persons who are roused to indignation by the conduct of others—however just that indignation might be—were entitled to take the law into their own hands and to give expression to their feelings and enforce their views by violent means. If such a situation were to arise, not only would the public peace be threatened but the true interests of religion and morality would inevitably suffer.” However, Costello took the Bishop’s complaint seriously; he took the precaution of reading the letter to the Cabinet and clearing his reply with ministers. He also sent a copy to McQuaid, who described it as “admirable in its clarity and moderation”.¹²¹

McQuaid, by virtue of his close control over his various clerical networks, had considerable information at his disposal which could be of use to the Government. For instance, in November 1956 he reported to the Taoiseach on “the investigations I have made” concerning four youths arrested for Republican activities. “They are certainly not bad young fellows, but misled by youthful idealism. I shall have them followed up quietly.”¹²² The flow of information went both ways; when Seán MacEoin supplied Costello with a memorandum on a new socialist political grouping involving Noël Browne he suggested that “it would be no harm to let His Grace of Dublin have a copy”.¹²³ The Archbishop reaped more practical benefits from Costello too—when petrol was scarce following the Suez Crisis, the Taoiseach arranged for him to receive supplies. McQuaid was “very grateful”, adding pointedly that “it is a consideration which was not shown me during the war”.¹²⁴ Costello, then, was far more solicitous of the Archbishop than de Valera had been. But on occasion, he was prepared to take a line independent of McQuaid, and of the wider hierarchy.

In September 1955, the Taoiseach holidayed in Rome with his wife. The couple had a private audience with Pope Pius XII—the Taoiseach received a gold medal commemorating the proclamation of the Dogma of the Assumption, while Ida Costello was presented with a rosary blessed by the Pontiff. Pius was reported to have “expressed fervent wishes to the Irish President and Government and imparted a special blessing to ‘Our beloved people of Ireland’”.¹²⁵ Later, Costello met a senior Vatican official, Monsignor Domenico Tardini, the Pro-Secretary of State in Charge of Extraordinary Affairs. Tardini pointed out that the Irish Government accorded “very favourable” treatment to non-Catholics, which contrasted with the way Catholics were “persecuted” in the North. Costello explained that the Government gave “fair treatment to non-Catholics both on general principles and also in the interest of future unity”. Tardini said “the favourable treatment accorded … to non-Catholics is to him a source of some anxiety”. According to the minutes of the meeting, Costello made no further reply, an indication he was not prepared to meet the Vatican’s concerns on this issue.¹²⁶ To say the least of it, this is at odds with Costello’s image as “ever loyal to the precepts of the church”.¹²⁷

McQuaid was accustomed to having his views accepted by the Government. For instance, when the Yugoslav soccer team played Ireland in 1955, the Archbishop had a private conversation with the Taoiseach, after which the Government advised President O’Kelly not to attend the match.¹²⁸ However, Costello resisted the Archbishop’s wishes over the appointment of Seán Ó Faoláin as Director of the Arts Council (discussed below), and over the Censorship Board.

Two of the five places on the Censorship Board became vacant in mid-1956, but the Government took their time in filling them. The reason is revealed in a memorandum to Costello from the Secretary of the Department of Justice, T.J. Coyne. To meet growing criticism of the censorship regime, Coyne suggested the appointment of “broadminded persons, including perhaps one of the Protestant faith”. However, McQuaid had “let it be known” that he was willing to nominate a priest to act on the Board (one of the vacancies was due to the resignation of the Chairman, Monsignor Deery). As Coyne pointed out, “His Grace … may well nominate some priest of the diocese who is anything but broadminded. On the other hand, it is difficult not to invite him to make a nomination.”¹²⁹ Finally, in December, the Government appointed Robert Figgis (a Protestant) and Andrew Comyn,¹³⁰ the latter on the recommendation of Alexis FitzGerald.¹³¹

However, the existing members and Costello’s appointees could not work together, with the result that the chairman, Professor John Piggott, refused to call further meetings. After the change of government, he was sacked by the new Minister for Justice, Oscar Traynor.¹³² The Knights of Columbanus, with the tacit encouragement of McQuaid, waged a campaign against Traynor as a result. The Minister complained to de Valera that the campaign was started because “His Grace was not consulted by the former Taoiseach or by me about recent appointments to the Board.” Traynor suggested that de Valera should make an effort to secure Costello’s support “so that the Hierarchy may be led to see at the outset that this Government and those which preceded it were carrying out their duties faithfully in accordance with the powers conferred on them”.¹³³ After a private conversation with de Valera, Costello “expressed confidence in the Board as now constituted”.¹³⁴

He could hardly do otherwise, as two of the members had been appointed by him. But his position is completely at variance with the accepted image of Costello as bowing to the demands of the Church at every available opportunity. One recent writer has suggested that the dominance of the Church “was not to be challenged for the first time until the 1980s. The state was anxious not to come into conflict with the Church on any matter, but certainly not on those considered to be of primary importance to Catholic faith and morals.”¹³⁵ As we have seen, this was something of an exaggeration—control of the Censorship Board would have been seen by McQuaid as an issue “of primary importance to Catholic faith and morals”, and Costello appears to have ignored his wishes. And there was certainly a clash over a matter which would not normally have been seen as concerning religion—the proposal to set up an Agricultural Institute.

The Agricultural Institute had been approved by government as far back as 1950. It was strongly backed by the Americans, who would pay the capital costs through Marshall Aid grants. However, delays in congressional approval, as well as jockeying for position between the various third level institutions, meant that little progress was made until Costello and Dillon returned to government in 1954.¹³⁶ While the various universities had somewhat grudgingly approved the plans, a new problem arose at the start of 1955, when the hierarchy suddenly expressed concern at the involvement of Trinity in the Institute. Bishop Michael Browne of Galway and Bishop Cornelius Lucey of Cork—two of the more hardline prelates, and each with a university in his diocese—were despatched to talk to Costello after a meeting of the hierarchy’s standing committee. The bishops explained that they would object to involvement by Trinity “if the result would be to impair or diminish the National University, deprive its Colleges of the Faculties of Agriculture and Dairy Science, or allow Trinity to have a say in the teaching of Agriculture in the new Institute”. Costello countered, with evident exasperation, that the involvement of Trinity had been agreed for some time, and no objection had been raised. Why, he asked, had the hierarchy not brought their concerns to the attention of his predecessor? “Their Lordships did not give any specific explanation …”¹³⁷

It is difficult to disagree with the conclusion reached by Maurice Manning: the bishops felt Costello would be a soft touch in comparison to de Valera.¹³⁸ However, they were to be sorely disappointed. Costello told Browne and Lucey that it was important not to give ammunition to those who might accuse the Government of discriminating against Protestants. He said they would be kept informed of developments, “and that every opportunity of conferring on difficulties would be given”. But he certainly wasn’t as accommodating on this issue as he had been on the Mother and Child Scheme—perhaps because he didn’t share the concerns of the Bishops, or believe agricultural instruction to be a matter of “faith and morals”.

As in the Mother and Child controversy, one of the main stated objections was the danger of increased government control, with the State accused of attempting to do what independent bodies, in this case the universities, were capable of doing themselves. In response, the Government stressed the consultations they had and would continue to conduct with the interested parties, and the Institute’s autonomy from government, with a majority of the governing body being non-State nominees.¹³⁹ These assurances were of little avail, though, because the real objection was to Trinity involvement, and to the perception of the universities that they would lose prestige (and money) if they lost their Agriculture faculties.

If the controversy can be seen as a re-run of the Mother and Child affair, then the heads of the various universities played the role of the IMA. Like the doctors before them, they must have been delighted when the bishops weighed in on their side with “moral” arguments. Given Costello’s views on Trinity, he might have been expected to be as open to persuasion on this issue as he had been on medical matters. But when the President of UCD, Michael Tierney, wrote expressing concerns about the surrender of his Faculty of Agriculture, the Taoiseach merely promised to pass his observations on to Dillon, adding that while the Minister would “no doubt … consult with you … he may not accept your suggestions”.¹⁴⁰

Costello had decided to fight for his government’s policy, and he began a charm offensive on the hierarchy. He visited Archbishop Joseph Walsh of Tuam in July and went through the issues involved at some length, writing to him afterwards, “My justification for taking up so much of Your Grace’s time must lie in the conviction that our discussion helped to remove many misconceptions as to the Government’s proposal in relation to that Institute.” He sent Walsh a copy of a memorandum by Dillon setting out the background to the Institute, assuring him that all interested parties had been promised “that nothing final would be determined until they had been given an opportunity of expressing their views”.¹⁴¹ He had also, crucially, discussed the controversy with McQuaid.¹⁴²

Walsh was impressed by the memorandum, which “enables one to see all sides of the case”, and predicted that the Institute “is going to do a great deal towards the uplifting of the country”. But he warned that the facts should be made known to the public “before certain interested or prejudiced people spread false propaganda and do a great deal of harm”. Armed with the memorandum, he promised “to discuss the matter fully with some people who might take a wrong view owing to want of knowledge”.¹⁴³ It is possible he was thinking of his colleague from Galway. But Bishop Browne dismissed the memorandum, arguing that as the proposed institute “violates the University settlement of 1908, not even the agreement of yourself and Mr de Valera can heal its fundamental defect”.¹⁴⁴

Costello had been careful to keep de Valera on side;¹⁴⁵ now he decided to take Archbishop Walsh’s advice and try to persuade the public. The occasion was a speech opening Muintir na Tíre’s Rural Week in Navan, County Meath. His speech was drafted by Jack Nagle, an Assistant Secretary in the Department of Agriculture, although Costello, through Moynihan, made important suggestions, including the inclusion of a passage dealing with the religious and moral welfare of students. He also brought forward the publication of details of the Bill by two weeks, so they would be issued the day after his speech¹⁴⁶—which he clearly expected to prepare the ground for greater public support for the legislation.

The tone of the speech, delivered on 14 August, was reasonable and conciliatory. The Taoiseach stressed that the proposals were a “basis for discussion” and were not inflexible. He utterly rejected suggestions that “the Institute is to be Government controlled, that it will be run by a majority of Government nominees, or that it will enjoy anything less than the academic autonomy at present possessed by the Universities”. In fact, the governing body would be made up of one-third each of university representatives, agricultural organisations, and Government nominees. He insisted the State had no intention of interfering with the research programme of the Institute, nor did the Government intend to use the annual grant “to control the Institute in any way or to upset the accepted principle of academic autonomy”.

Then he turned to “a point which is of the utmost interest to all of us, namely, the need for providing sufficiently for the religious and moral welfare of students of the Institute”. For the first two years of their course, they would be at the university of their choice, completing the foundation course in science and related subjects. When they transferred to the Institute, he insisted, “every facility will be afforded for, and due precautions taken to ensure, the provision of equal care for students”. He concluded by stressing that the Government’s only aim was to establish an institute which would equip its students with the most up-to-date knowledge, to the benefit of agriculture and the country as a whole. And he called for “disinterested co-operation and goodwill” from those concerned.¹⁴⁷

Two days later, he received a clear indication that co-operation and goodwill were unlikely to be advanced by his opponents. Bishop Browne and Monsignor Pádraig de Brún, President of University College Galway, called on him to discuss plans to open a new Agriculture Faculty in UCG. The Taoiseach expressed understandable frustration at this “somewhat strange” development. Why, he asked, had UCG not mentioned this desire before? Clearly, at a time when the Government was attempting to rationalise and (to an extent) centralise agricultural education, the creation of yet another faculty would create further difficulty. The discussion soon moved on to a philosophical debate on the merits of a central institute. Bishop Browne criticised what he termed “something resembling a factory for … the mass production of Agricultural graduates in one centre”. He claimed the students would miss out on the advantages of university life, and in one central faculty might miss the benefits of personal attention. This was nonsense, and Costello was quick to point out the weaknesses in the prelate’s arguments. After all, the students would have two years in their various universities before going to the Institute. And no one complained about medical students doing their practical training in hospitals.¹⁴⁸

Bishop Lucey of Cork was also still vocal in his opposition. In September, he told a meeting at UCC organised by Macra na Feirme and the National Farmers’ Association that a centralised institute wouldn’t work, owing to the varied nature of Irish agriculture; that the proper function of the State was “to help the private citizen and his organisations rather than to edge them out with its own agencies”; and that while the people would vote down a government committed to socialisation, a gradual process of creeping State control could “nibble more and more from the field of private enterprise, until finally little worthwhile remains outside Civil Service control”. He then criticised various aspects of the proposed institute, claiming that the Government-appointed director would be the real power, not the governing body, and criticising the Bill for putting Trinity on an equal footing with the NUI colleges.¹⁴⁹

Ralph Sutton, who had married Eavan Costello in April 1955, and who lived at the time in Cork, sent a lengthy commentary on this speech to his father-in-law. Sutton pointed out that much of what the Bishop said was unfair criticism. For instance, Lucey claimed the governing body would only meet three times a year, when the draft legislation required it to meet at least three times a year. Sutton agreed with Lucey that Trinity was “no place for Catholics” but argued that this was irrelevant. Many of the more progressive farmers were Protestant, he said, and they had a right to send their sons to the Institute through Trinity. Anyway, Trinity was a university and its right to equal representation with the NUI “is recognised in the Constitution” (in the provisions on Seanad representation). Costello’s other son-in-law, Alexis FitzGerald, had apparently advised writing a confrontational letter on the subject; Sutton counselled against this as it “would blow up the entire assembly of Bishops which is not what anyone wants”.¹⁵⁰ This advice was astute; so were his answers to criticisms of the Institute. Costello evidently agreed with what he had to say, because he passed the letter on to Dillon, who used it as the basis for a speech to the Agricultural Science Association a few days later.¹⁵¹

In October, the secretary to the hierarchy, Bishop James Fergus of Achonry, forwarded a formal statement by the bishops—which was not being published, he said, as “Their Lordships do not wish to cause any embarrassment to the Government.” After going through the concerns about academic independence and State incursion into higher education, the real reason for opposition emerged—“under the Draft Proposals, the National University is seriously injured, while Trinity College not merely loses nothing but gains a position of advantage out of all proportion” to its number of Agriculture students. Because Trinity would have representatives on the governing body of the Institute, and because the Institute would be a recognised college of the NUI, Trinity would have “an influence on the Board of Studies of the NUI, while the NUI would not have any similar voice or control in any of the councils of Trinity College”. The establishment of the Institute would, the hierarchy statement continued, “involve the forcible injection into that University of extraneous and hostile elements”.

The bishops stated they were concerned about damage to the NUI because it was “the only centre of university education that is acceptable to Catholic principles”. Fergus said the bishops had never opposed giving Protestants “their just rights and due proportion of State endowments in accordance with their numbers”. But he claimed the State had in recent years given Trinity a subsidy “out of proportion to the number of Protestants in this State … It is a serious matter for the Irish Catholic tax-payer that he should be asked to endow an institution which is prohibited to Catholics as intrinsically dangerous, and it raises issues of very serious importance to us who are charged with the defence of Catholic Faith.” The hierarchy’s alternative was an institute with “effective academic freedom and autonomy … which would have the function of co-ordinating and developing agricultural research”.¹⁵²

This was a serious challenge to the Government, couched in terms of “defence of the Catholic Faith”, the approach which had proved so effective in the Mother and Child controversy. And control of higher education was just as serious a matter for the bishops as medicine—arguably more important. Given his performance in the earlier controversy, Costello might have been expected to buckle; he didn’t. Notes written a few days after the hierarchy’s letter arrived showed him in determined form. Up to now, the Government had not responded to charges made by individual bishops. Now, he thought, the Government must do so as the charges had been repeated. “It is essential to put on record our repudiation of certain charges explicit or implied in the memo, particularly that of State control.” Given the Government’s “repeated assurances”, he felt it was “a little difficult to understand the repetition of the charge of the desire of the Government for State control”. He also noted that there had been no objection to Trinity’s role until January 1955, even though it had been involved since the scheme was first mooted five years before. Anyway, Costello argued, “justice requires that Trinity get some say in the Institute”, because it already had a Faculty of Agriculture and there were Protestant farmers who should have access to the Institute. The proposed Trinity representation on the governing body was, he added, “the very irreducible minimum”.¹⁵³

Costello ensured great secrecy over his reply, which was approved by Cabinet on 4 November. A draft had been circulated to a meeting of ministers in Leinster House two days earlier. Each copy was headed “Secret and Personal to Minister”, enclosed in an envelope with a similar heading, and then put in the normal circulation envelope used for Cabinet documents.¹⁵⁴ Clearly, the Taoiseach felt any leak of the contents of his letter would be very damaging. It’s easy to see why.

He began by repeating that the draft proposals could be changed, and were only a basis for discussion. It would be a matter of “deep concern” to the Government if the proposals had any unfavourable repercussions on Catholic university education—but they trusted that the letter “will effectively remove the Bishops’ apprehensions in this respect”. So far, so deferential. But Costello then went on to demolish the hierarchy’s arguments point by point.

The Government, he said, would have expected the bishops “to accept without question” the assurances he and Dillon had given on State control, and “they regret that Their Lordships have thought it proper to disregard those assurances”. He dismissed complaints about the appointment of the Institute’s director by the President on the advice of the Government by pointing out that this was how judges were appointed. The bishops had claimed the governing body would be largely nominated by the State, when only 10 of the 34 members would be so nominated. Their assertion that the governing body had no control over the Director was even worse—Costello said it showed “a most regrettable lack of advertence to the actual terms of the draft outline”. Recalling his commitment in his speech in August that the Government would not attempt to control the Institute through the grant, Costello regretted that “Their Lordships have, evidently, not given to this assurance the weight and importance that properly attach to such a declaration by the Head of the Government.” Again, on the question of the moral welfare of students, there had been “a regrettable disregard of the relevant public declarations by the Taoiseach”.

On alleged Trinity influence—“the forcible injection … of extraneous and hostile elements”—Costello said the Government had been “unable to follow the reasoning” of the hierarchy. He said Trinity’s representation couldn’t be based on the number of Protestants in the Republic; they made up 34 per cent of the population of the island as a whole, and the ending of partition was “a primary aim of national policy”. The Government did not feel obliged to respond to the point about State subsidies to Trinity, as it was not relevant to the issue at hand. He suggested the bishops should have raised it when the subsidies began in 1947, or when they were increased in 1952 (in both cases, by a Fianna Fáil government). He concluded in a conciliatory tone again; his comments were designed to remove misapprehensions, and the proposals remained open to amendment. The Government would bear the hierarchy’s views in mind, “to the utmost extent compatible with the general interest of the community as a whole”.¹⁵⁵

It was an extraordinary document, showing a hitherto unsuspected independence of mind on the part of the Taoiseach and his government towards the hierarchy. Why did the Costello who enthusiastically bent the knee to the bishops in 1951 now stand up to them? Most importantly, of course, he believed in the Institute, while he had disapproved of the Mother and Child Scheme. Secondly, in contrast to 1951, the Government was solidly behind the scheme, while the hierarchy was split. As we have seen, Archbishop Walsh favoured the Institute, while McQuaid was at least neutral. When Costello sent him a copy of his reply to Fergus, the Archbishop replied that he would give the Government’s views his “very careful consideration”.¹⁵⁶ The official response from Fergus following the next meeting of the hierarchy’s standing committee was distinctly chilly. It expressed “deep regret at the tone and contents of the document which the Government thought well to address to us”. He added that the committee felt that none of its objections had been answered by the Government.¹⁵⁷ Costello brought the letter to Cabinet; the Government decided that “the letter does not call for any reply”.¹⁵⁸

However, despite this tough response to the hierarchy, the Government’s plans were in serious trouble. The determined opposition from the universities was having its effect. In May 1956, Dillon wrote to Costello insisting that the proper use of the Marshall Aid funds “demands the establishment of an independent Agricultural University”, though he suggested it could have a Faculty of Sociology and Philosophy under clerical control. He warned of “the danger … that in order to avoid treading on anybody’s toes we shall end up with a milk and water kind of research institute established at great cost … which will add little or nothing to the resources of which we dispose already”.¹⁵⁹

But the academic opposition continued, which delayed the establishment of the Institute. And by this stage, Costello was becoming increasingly desperate for concrete achievements in a range of areas. In the course of a memorandum setting out ideas for his October 1956 policy speech (see Chapter 13), the Taoiseach suggested the Institute should be established without taking over the existing Faculties of Agriculture. “I believe that by conceding the claim of UCD and UCC to retain their existing position it would be likely to be accepted, and I think also would cost less.”¹⁶⁰

In the draft heads of a Bill finally approved by Cabinet in October, the Institute’s scope had been reduced to that of a research body, aiming “to review, co-ordinate and facilitate agricultural research in progress and to promote additional research”.¹⁶¹ Costello told de Valera the plans had been changed as a result of the “considerable amount of criticism, on various grounds, from the interests concerned”. The Government, he said, was now anxious to proceed and wanted the Bill introduced in the Dáil before Christmas.¹⁶²More significant than his consultations with the leader of the Opposition were those with McQuaid. Having sent the Archbishop of Dublin an outline of the legislation, he received a prompt and cordial reply. McQuaid wrote that “the Institute that can be constructed on this basis ought to satisfy all the elements of the nation … by reason of the fairness of representation and the specific functions of the Body. The number of times that the word research occurs in the draft—if I am not mistaken, 21 times—ought to let any person see the purpose of the Institute.”¹⁶³ The American Ambassador also gave his approval; the Bill was introduced in the Dáil on 5 December, but fell with the Government. The legislation was finally steered through by de Valera, who had the name of the Agricultural Institute changed to An Foras Talúntais.¹⁶⁴ Later still, it became part of Teagasc.

Two postscripts might be mentioned. Given how much he resented Browne’s publication of the correspondence with the hierarchy during the Mother and Child crisis, it is not surprising that Costello was sensitive about his own bad-tempered exchange with the bishops. Most unusually, he instructed his officials to remove the correspondence from the official Government files. This move was so irregular that it was noted on the file by Nicholas Nolan, who observed that the papers “should be treated as especially confidential”.¹⁶⁵ Which was all well and good until October 1957, when the joint secretaries to the hierarchy wrote to the new Taoiseach, de Valera, seeking an assurance that he would take account of their representations.¹⁶⁶ Puzzled, de Valera asked Moynihan about it. On being told of his predecessor’s action, de Valera rang Costello, who agreed that “in the circumstances, the papers would have to be made available” to the new government, and they were placed back in the file.¹⁶⁷

The other addition to the story concerns James Dillon, who shortly after the defeat of the Second Inter-party Government met Pádraig de Brún of UCG in Dublin. De Brún said it was “a great pity” that Dillon hadn’t stuck to his original proposals for a separate agricultural university. When Dillon pointed out that de Brún had lobbied against the plan, the UCG President said he had been obliged to do so, but thought the Minister should have ignored him! He thought the hierarchy were wrong in their opposition, but he couldn’t say so as he had seven bishops on his governing body, and “they were bad enough as it was without adding fuel to the flames”. According to his later account to Costello, Dillon “expressed astonishment that a Catholic Priest could be guilty of such conduct”, and walked off.¹⁶⁸

One Department in which Costello took a very direct interest was Justice. The Minister, Jim Everett, was in and out of hospital with stomach trouble when the Government was formed, so Costello was acting Minister for several months.¹⁶⁹ He arranged for the young Fine Gael activist and solicitor Richie Ryan to become private secretary to Everett, who had no legal background. The Taoiseach also handled the legal reform end of the portfolio, and brought most of this legislation through the Dáil. Ryan got the impression he enjoyed this work, and did it for relaxation as much as anything.¹⁷⁰ Costello’s influence on law reform was clear. When Everett submitted a memorandum to government on a proposed Bill on the status of married women, he specifically stated that he did so “at the instance of the Taoiseach”.¹⁷¹ Costello also brought the Solicitors Bill and the Mortmain (Repeal of Enactments) Bill through the Dáil.¹⁷² And despite being Taoiseach, he remained active as a Bencher of King’s Inns—he was by this stage the Senior Bencher, and helped organise a visit to Ireland by the American Bar Association.¹⁷³

He also continued to show an interest in the arts. Costello’s return to power in 1954 presented a potential difficulty to Paddy Little, de Valera’s appointee as Director of the Arts Council. Little moved to inform the new Taoiseach of the Council’s work, with particular stress on Costello’s pet projects. Little wrote that “at least 50% of our funds goes to the visual arts”, adding that the Industrial Design Exhibition “was a great success, but our own people are very backward in these matters and we are attempting to hold an exhibition of purely Irish products in the course of the next year”.¹⁷⁴ If this was meant to satisfy the Taoiseach, it failed. In 1955, Costello arranged for Tom Bodkin to be taken on as a consultant to the Council—an appointment that was not surprisingly viewed as a “coup” against them by the members.¹⁷⁵

In a letter to Bodkin, Little said of Costello that “he wants to do big things, and so do we, and I do believe there are indications that a public appetite has been whetted for culture”.¹⁷⁶ Costello, meanwhile, was assuring Bodkin that he intended to keep “in fairly close touch” with the work of the Council and, without appearing to interfere, to “endeavour to see that your advice is sought when necessary or expedient”.¹⁷⁷ Three months later, the Taoiseach told Bodkin the Council “are feeling ‘touchy’ about my alleged interference with their functions”. He added that he wanted “to shift the emphasis away from drama to the visual arts”, as well as possibly starting lectures on industrial design.¹⁷⁸

As always, he stressed the practical advantages of investment in the arts. He pointed out to Sweetman that a visit by French author Henri Daniel-Rops led to an enthusiastic article about Ireland which appeared in 12 French newspapers. The Taoiseach told Bodkin, with considerable satisfaction, that “the Minister for Finance … agreed that such a visit followed by such an article receiving wide publicity was worth more than large sums spent on tourist advertising and that culture does pay practical dividends”.¹⁷⁹However, as the economic situation deteriorated, the battle to maintain support for the arts became tougher. In December 1956 he told Sweetman that he wouldn’t comment on his categorisation of the Arts Council as a non-essential service “for the sake of my blood pressure”. He pointed out that a new Council was about to be appointed. “I am particularly anxious to give the new body a fair opportunity of doing effective work. I am afraid I could not agree to change the decision, and I must ask you not to press me on the matter.”¹⁸⁰ Later, in opposition, he suggested that tax relief for exports should also apply to works of art. “If we have here a man who is, say, a painter, or a writer, and if he as a result of his talent, genius or artistry sells the produce of his brains, or of his talent or genius abroad, why could we not have an incentive for that particular type of thing?”¹⁸¹ The idea was rejected by the Fianna Fáil Minister for Finance, Dr Jim Ryan¹⁸²—his successor, Charles Haughey, later deservedly received plaudits for introducing tax exemption for artists.

In December 1956, he secured the appointment of the author Seán Ó Faoláin as Director of the Arts Council—as Patrick Lynch noted, this was “the first official recognition he had ever received—apart from having his excellent novels banned”.¹⁸³ Ó Faoláin himself said Costello was “the first person in authority to recognise that an Irishman is not necessarily, by being an artist, a fool or an irresponsible citizen”.¹⁸⁴ The author’s name had been suggested to the Taoiseach by his son Declan and Alexis FitzGerald, and was supported by Bodkin.¹⁸⁵

The appointment was strongly opposed by Archbishop McQuaid because the writer was seen as something of an anti-establishment figure, and had clashed with the Archbishop in the past.¹⁸⁶ McQuaid “spent over one hour with Taoiseach and Dr Bodkin trying to prevent Ó Faoláin’s nomination, by persuading Bodkin to take the post”. Bodkin, however, turned down the offer, much to Costello’s own disappointment—the Taoiseach told McQuaid “it had been my life’s dream that he would work for Ireland in connection with the promotion of the Arts and particularly the application of the Arts to Industry in Ireland”. He added that he considered Ó Faoláin’s appointment as a way of giving Government support to artists and writers. “While I cannot expect Your Grace’s blessings I feel sure that I will have your prayers.” McQuaid replied that he “can only hope that the nominee will not let you down”.¹⁸⁷

One of the responsibilities of Cabinet was to decide whether to advise the President to commute capital sentences. In his autobiography, Noël Browne suggested that the First Inter-party Government routinely decided to have such sentences carried out, over-ruling the objections of the two Clann ministers. In fact, as John Horgan pointed out, only one person was hanged during that government’s term—five capital sentences were commuted.¹⁸⁸ The most notorious capital case to confront the Second Inter-party Government was that of Nurse Cadden, a backstreet abortionist who accidentally killed a patient. She was sentenced to be hanged, and the Court of Criminal Appeal dismissed her appeal.¹⁸⁹ The matter then came before Cabinet. Everett informed his colleagues that the Prison Medical Officer found that she “is quite amoral, and in that sense I would consider her abnormal”.¹⁹⁰ The Minister told his private secretary that Cadden was “unrepentant in a state of mortal sin, but if given life imprisonment there was hope that she would see the error of her ways”.¹⁹¹ The sentence was duly commuted.¹⁹²

This was in line with Costello’s general approach: he disapproved of capital punishment and was an advocate of civil liberties. In fact, he had been an early supporter of the Irish Council for Civil Liberties, which was established in March 1948. In advance of the founding meeting, the Irish Independent reported that the Taoiseach was among the sponsors of the new organisation, along with Gerard Sweetman, Lord Killanin, and Owen Sheehy Skeffington.¹⁹³ A letter writer to the Irish Independent accused the new group of being a communist front organisation, comparing it to similar organisations in Britain and America. There was official suspicion too, with a Garda report being prepared, noting the names of the sponsors. Justice official Peter Berry noted beside Sheehy Skeffington’s name, “This is the only left-wing agitator in the group.”¹⁹⁴ Berry sent the Garda report to Maurice Moynihan, the Secretary to the Government, who raised it with the new Taoiseach. Costello explained that he had agreed to attend the inaugural meeting before he became Taoiseach; now he had decided not to attend.¹⁹⁵ Presumably, the official disapproval of the new organisation played a part in his decision, but as we shall see, he continued to oppose the use of special powers, even when the IRA began its Border Campaign at the end of 1956.

So how did the public view the Government? Perhaps the best gauge is by-election results, which indicate that up to the first quarter of 1956, Costello and his colleagues were viewed relatively favourably by the voters. By-elections were particularly important for this government. Defeats would not only have the usual effect of reducing its majority; they would also undermine its democratic legitimacy. While in opposition, Costello had claimed that government defeats in by-elections signalled a withdrawal of confidence by the voters. Perhaps foolishly, he continued to make this argument while in government, offering a significant hostage to fortune. For instance, in July 1956, during the Cork by-election campaign, he said the Fianna Fáil government had in 1954 “finally accepted the result of a whole series of by-elections adverse to them [as] the real wishes of the people and gave up Office”.¹⁹⁶

The first test of opinion didn’t come until December 1955, after the death of Fine Gael’s David Madden of Limerick West. Opening the campaign, the Taoiseach gave a less than ringing endorsement of his government’s performance: “… we have done reasonably well despite the many bewildering problems with which we were confronted”.¹⁹⁷ He later added another strangely lukewarm assessment of the progress the Government had made: “The balance between success and failure, though perhaps not spectacular, is well on the credit side.”¹⁹⁸ During the campaign, Costello made the best of his government’s record on prices, insisting that it was outside the power of any Government to control “the prices paid to workers on Ceylon tea plantations or to British coal miners”. He pointed out that increases in the price of food produced in Ireland would increase farm incomes—presumably a resonant argument in this mainly agricultural constituency. And the Taoiseach reminded voters that the only general election promise he had made was to “give good government to the best of his ability”.¹⁹⁹

The Fianna Fáil candidate, Michael Colbert, won on the first count with 56 per cent of the vote, which was 2 per cent up on the party’s general election result. Fine Gael’s vote was marginally up, from 34 per cent to 35 per cent. Despite the fact that this had been a Fine Gael seat, Labour contested the by-election, a curious breach of the usual inter-party procedure in by-elections. The party’s vote was down three points to just under 9 per cent. The loss of a Government seat was a blow, but in the circumstances it certainly wasn’t a bad result. The Fianna Fáil victory gave that party all three seats in the constituency—the defeated Fine Gael candidate, Denis Jones, went on to top the poll in the 1957 general election, restoring the traditional balance of 2 Fianna Fáil and 1 Fine Gael.

Early in 1956, there was a more impressive show of inter-party solidarity—in favour of Clann na Poblachta, which was of course only supporting the Government from outside. Despite this, Costello threw his full support behind the Clann candidate, Kathleen O’Connor, who was attempting to hold the seat of her late father in North Kerry. He spoke at public meetings, and signed a newspaper ad urging voters to support O’Connor to “send a message of encouragement to the government”.²⁰⁰ This they did—O’Connor held the seat with 53 per cent of the vote, while the Fianna Fáil candidate received 47 per cent. A comfortable victory, although Fianna Fáil’s vote had increased by seven points since the general election, at the expense of the combined inter-party total. Costello hailed the result as “a significant victory” and “a decisive vote of confidence to the Inter-party Government”.²⁰¹

The Leader was less complimentary, observing that “Mr de Valera wrung his hands in horror at the Coalition’s financial ineptitude, but Mr Costello offered everybody factories … Instead of escaping into the sugar-candy world of make believe, Mr Costello should have come out and told the electors in an adult way what they have to expect in the next twelve months and what his Government proposes to do. A little less parish pump and more national politics would have increased public confidence in his Government.”²⁰² Such sour comments could not dent the coalition’s satisfaction. Two by-elections had resulted in one win and one loss, a reasonable record. However, it was to be the last political success Costello and his government would enjoy as they headed into a miserable year, which would end with the victor in the North Kerry by-election helping to remove them from office. But first, John A. Costello would enjoy a stimulating and diverting interlude away from the burdens of office.