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The NCRR: A Silver Lining for a National Remembrance X?

2 days ago
4 min read

The Ghosts in the Machine!


In this, my 10th article and podcast about the National Centre for Research and Remembrance, in Dublin, or the NCRR, I will bring you up-to-date with my progress with the Irish government and asking the question about whether there is a culture within official Irish society that blocks or ignores responsible voices of concern.


But my principal focus will concentrate on real survivor comments and their fears and frustration for the NCRR. I will then highlight the importance of an academic insight against the power-narrative and the potential of repurposing the heritage of Irish Institutional abuses and the potential failure of non-recurrence within the NCRR. It is that academic insight which I believe as an activist could act to inform and challenge the motives and language of a State narrative for this important project.


One of the headstones for the High Park Magdalene Women in Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin
One of the headstones for the High Park Magdalene Women in Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin

So I begin, as is now customary, by bringing you up-to date with my progress on getting my voice heard within the consultative structure and in particular, the steering group of the NCRR. You may recall from the previous episode that I had received a less than satisfactory answer to the points I had raised, experiencing as I did, a signposting response away from those principal issues.


As a result of that exchange, I wrote directly to Minister Foley, sending it by traditional post. I did so because whilst using the e mail system is certainly the way that modern society functions, I had the distinct sense that I was being managed by the gate-keepers. I felt that it was increasingly likely that the Minister has never seen any of my correspondence.


So in the past, whilst I had to chase an acknowledgement to e mails sent, I am now in the situation where my posted letter hasn’t even been acknowledged. Needless to say, the matter is being chased and will be escalated if necessary, because the matters raised are far too important not to do so.


But it has made me wonder: does Irish society suffer from an ‘official’ culture that snuffs out or isolates voices that are not necessarily strident, but offer concern? Do those who raise matters genuinely believe that there is a failure or a need to enhance a public duty, a desire to correct a wrong for the overall benefit of their society?


Those who embark on that route of behaving as responsible citizens may initially be heard, but as I have seen within political salons across the UK and Europe, the general political attention-span wanes, politicians measure the proposals against political imperatives or agenda, witnessing as I have many times, across many stories and campaigns elsewhere, an invisible red line being drawn; the line of what will be tolerated or delivered. It is the nature of first contact politics.


That is a reality that many committed activists face when advocating for issues related to their concerns. In the past whenever I visited the European Parliament and Commission, advocating for change on complex issues, I had a list of objectives, but realism dictates that you are not going to achieve everything you set out to obtain. The reason you won’t achieve everything is because of that invisible red line, but more fundamentally, you have to engage, construct and seek a consensus, a compromise. But consensus is a two way street and on this issue, so far, there is no attempt at seeking a consensus or a compromise, there is only it seems, a solid and now visible red line.


But as I reflect on Ireland’s past and how I and many others are trying to create and deliver a positive change, let us not forget how other activists across Ireland are struggling to make themselves heard on other matters of public interest. Consider the Mica Scandal and its past and continuing fight for justice. Irish ‘Whistleblowers’ and their experiences both in the workplace and within state bodies. And returning to Irish Institutional matters, news that the Coalition of Mother and Baby Homes Survivors was disbanding after many years of activism, reveal a frustration of not being heard or responded to by the state and their agents.


A plaque commemorating the Magdalene Women of Ireland in St. Stephens Green, Dublin
A plaque commemorating the Magdalene Women of Ireland in St. Stephens Green, Dublin

As I reflected on my own little local difficulty with the Minister and the Department, I thought about all the people I have met along the road to the NCRR, those who sat in silent judgement of the process. I have thought of those who left the NCRR sessions in both disgust and dismay at how they considered their voices were being dismissed. I remember the man who brought sheaths of documents and evidence to demonstrate the culpability of the state and the religious orders, leaving the session as he did, vowing to never engage with them again. As he explained, no-one showed interest in his story and his desire to understand the “why” of what happened to him and of a deeper desire for accountability.


As I have witnessed on my journey across Ireland, these are the realities of the silent victims and survivors, whose ideas and concerns will simply exist and flourish within their own homes, amongst their families and friends, hoping as they do, that one day their voice will be heard, that justice will prevail.


It is a problematic landscape for Irish democracy and one, if not recognised let alone corrected, could engrain a culture of ‘we know what’s best for you’ to the detriment of Irish voices.


From the moment I started to write my book about my Mom and Dad, my Grandmother and Grandfather (A Magdalene Rose) and engaging as I do on the political debate on how to deliver justice, I have been challenged in-person with questions like:


“Why are you raking that up for?’...........


To read the rest of this article, please visit my Substack space; it's free.....



 
 
 

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