Champion of the underprivileged who engaged in a little dog-baiting

ON October 22, 1962, when President John F Kennedy made his famous speech announcing the blockade of Cuba to prevent the delivery of Soviet missiles, the world seemed on the brink of nuclear war.

Next morning Deputy Noel Browne, leader of the National Progressive Democratic Party, called at the US Embassy to protest against the US president's actions.

That evening Dr Browne led a march, which set the early scene for trendy anti- American protests. According to Browne, they "marched up Kildare Street, around St Stephen's Green, down Grafton Street, along Nassau Street toward Merrion Square" where the US embassy was then located not in Ballsbridge as he mistakenly wrote.

Protesters carried placards with slogans like "No War Over Cuba," and "Is Cuba Worth Your Life?" By the time they reached Merrion Square, they were about 80 strong. About 15 gardaí refused to allow demonstrators closer than 30 yards to the embassy. Some protesters sat down in the middle of the road and refused to move.

Browne, the organiser, insisted they had "a right to march to the American embassy, or anywhere they liked, and that the gardaí would not stop them," according to a garda report. The senior garda, Station Sergeant James Daly, who did not recognise Browne, asked his name.

"I am not giving it to you," Browne replied indignantly. "You have no right to ask for it. What law are you relying on?"

Two gardaí with police dogs arrived. The handlers held the dogs on a short leash, but some protesters tried to provoke the animals, according to Justice Department files recently released. At one point Garda John Kelly was knocked to the ground and his dog bit the hand of another garda.

Kelly reported that Browne stood in front of him, trying to annoy his dog by raising his hand while he called a cameraman to take a photograph. The dog was on such a short leash that he never got at Browne, who moved away after the cameraman's flash. The garda believed Browne staged the whole thing for the photograph. In his memoirs, Against the Tide, Browne told a different story. The protest was crushed "by the use of savage Alsatian dogs," he wrote. But his account was marred by glaring errors.

"The assault, the strange animal sounds, the snarls, excited barks and whimpers were all so unexpected and unthinkable that it was hard to know what was happening," Browne explained. "There was the sudden realisation that a large and angry animal with sharp teeth was furiously tearing at your clothes, your body, your head, face and arms.

"My first reaction was one of incredulity. Fear was blotted out by emotions closer to despair and disgust." The dog handlers were emphatic that the dogs never got at Browne, but he used the occasion for publicity.

"While being mauled by the dogs," he wrote, "I tried to tell the public that the men setting these dogs on us were the men whom we as citizens paid to keep the peace." A photographer "got a particularly spectacular picture of one Alsatian jumping at my head, a record of the event which could not be controverted," he wrote. In fact, the photograph undermined his story.

There were two photographs of the incident. One, reproduced in his book, showed the dog was on the ground by Brown's right knee, while the other was of the dog on his hind legs straining to get at Browne, but not remotely near his head.

Browne was something of a champion of the underprivileged ever since he was forced to resign as Minister for Health in 1951 over his Mother and Child Bill. He had done a magnificent job fighting TB and sought to tackle the country's infant mortality rate, which was the highest in western Europe. He tried to provide free health care for all mothers and children.

Archbishop John Charles McQuaid considered this a form of socialism next to Godless communism. He insisted the Bill include a means test. The Government capitulated, and Browne was ousted when he baulked at the dictation of the archbishop.

ALTHOUGH Browne was frequently right, he had a dreadful knack of irritating people. He even got up the nose of Jack Lynch, one of the most placid of politicians. "They ought to make Deputy Dr Browne a dictator," Lynch snapped in the Dáil one day. "Perhaps he might get on with the job then."

Jack promptly regretted his intemperance. "If the deputy were less aggressive," Lynch explained moments later, "he might get a more reasonable reply."

In typical fashion, Browne replied: "I am quite satisfied. I did not expect anything better from the minister."

Senator Owen Sheehy Skeffington wrote to Justice Minister Charles J Haughey complaining about the dogs and "the highly undisciplined way in which the Dublin gardaí treated a peaceful demonstration last evening."

Matthew McCloskey, the US ambassador, told officials at Iveagh House, "off the record," that he had "some concern about the use of police dogs at the demonstration".

The Garda commissioner, deputy commissioner and the head of the special branch all admitted to Haughey "that the use of the dogs was an unfortunate mistake".

But Charlie defended the gardaí lest any ministerial disclaimer "would be injurious to Garda morale". He announced he was "fully satisfied that the action taken by the gardaí was necessary in order to prevent the unruly mob which was assembled from committing a serious breach of the peace".

The Garda commissioner secretly instructed in November that "police dogs are not to be used in or against crowds, but may be held in reserve and alone used as a last resort for defence".

This instruction was kept quiet, because it could appear prejudicial, if used in a civil suit against two dog handlers.

The order was further modified on February 26, 1963: "Police dogs must not be present or used at demonstrations or at political, industrial, or other public meetings, processions or in the control of roads." Dogs could be used "to deal with a small group of hooligans who are not mixed up with other citizens," the commissioner insisted.

In April 1964 two people took a civil suit against the garda sergeant in charge and the two dog handlers. The plaintiffs claimed the dogs bit them.

One of them did not give evidence, and the judge noted in his charge to the jury that the other looked like a "matador going in for the kill" in one of the photographs. The judge added that no evidence was produced that any person was savaged or even bitten, only snapped at.

Every witness mentioned Browne, but the judge noted pointedly that nobody called him to give evidence.

Maybe his exaggerated memoirs provide the explanation.

"It is our opinion that the use of dogs was unnecessary and wrongful on this occasion," the jury concluded, but they found in favour of the three gardaí on all counts and awarded them their costs.

Thus, they clearly concluded that the whole incident had been grossly exaggerated. It was more a case of dog-baiting, than dogs biting.