Positive answers to voices from the past

The past spoke loudly this week reminding us all that we are no more than a culmination of circumstances, some noble others less so, some fortuitous others contrived.

In Normandy yesterday one of the great milestones on the road to our modern world was marked when the 70th anniversary of the Allies’ D Day landings in France were celebrated. That so few of the 1944 veterans were able to attend shows that even if the past can from time to time speak loudly the passage of time does its work silently. This may be the last major anniversary of this great act of liberation attended by a significant number of participants. Their legacy is such though that as long as Europe remains at peace, remains tolerant and united they will be remembered with great pride and deserved thanks.

Much closer to home, and far, far closer to the bone, the revelations around the deaths and mass burial of hundreds of infants and children in a Tuam mother-and-baby home — around 800 bodies in a septic tank — cannot but provoke comparisons with the evil the D Day landings ultimately brought to an end. That there may other mass graves like the one at Tuam adds to that deeply uncomfortable fear.

At this stage in this terrible story from our dark, unresolved past, we should acknowledge that these institutions, and what went on in them, could not have been a secret in such a tightly knit society. Society may not have directly endorsed the behaviour of those entrusted with the care of the most vulnerable but neither did it ask the questions that should have been asked or take the action that should have been taken.

It is therefore dishonest to lay full responsibility for the barbarism — that’s what it was after all — at the feet of religious orders. The exceptionally high death rates, the stories of former inmates and even the experiences of those whose work brought them in contact with those in the care of priests, brothers or nuns must have sounded alarm bells. Sadly they were ignored — if they were sounded at all — and we are still dealing with the legacy that, like World War II, destroyed so many lives.

Though not on as grand a scale as either the D Day landings or the shocking scale of the Tuam revelations yesterday’s events in council chambers right around the country point at least towards the Rubicon even if they don’t cross it.

Agreements between Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, especially in Kerry where ancient animosities seemed to linger most vividly, to support each other to ensure that the old order, even if in a new suit, prevails may be a sign of things to come.

Is it possible that the two old, centrist, moderately conservative parties might finally reflect the times they live in rather than the times their parties were formed in?

How ionic it would be if it took the rise of the left, and Sinn Féin’s surging popularity, to do what time and rational thought have failed to achieve. That, and the investigation into the Tuam scandal, would be a positive, creative response to the dark voices from the past, one that could, like D Day did and does, help make our future a better place.