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Post by hibernicus on Aug 15, 2014 12:11:42 GMT
Some time ago I talked, with a brevity I now regret, to an old man who remembered seeing the great Holy Ghost missionary Bishop Joseph Shanahan when he was a pupil in Blackrock College in the 1930s. (Bishop Shanahan was staying there after having to leave Nigeria because of ill-health; he later managed to return to Africa - to the Diocese of Nairobi, where he died in 1933.) A brief account of Bishop Shanahan can be found HERE - he is much less familiar to Irish people nowadays than he should be, and I confess I had only the vaguest knowledge of him: mshr.org/index.php?page=founder-s-causeRecently I have been reading Fr Des Forristal's 1990 biography, THE SECOND BURIAL OF BISHOP SHANAHAN, which gives a tremendously moving account of his life and labours, and of his great success in bringing many in Southern Nigeria to God (though its limitations are also noted). Many of those who met him compared him to Saint Patrick, and in retirement he was startled though pleased when his Boswell, Fr Jordan, asked him if he had ever realised he was like Abraham, who left his kindred and his father's house to follow the Lord and became the father of a great multitude. What I remember at the time of its publication was Fr Forristal's revelation that Bishop Shanahan became alienated from the religious order he founded, the Most Holy Rosary sisters, because of unjust accusations of misconduct. Given some of the things that had happened subsequently, I started reading the book with a mind open to the possibility that Fr Forristal might have been naive and there might be some substance to the accusations, but Fr Forristal makes a perfectly clear and convincing case that there was no substance to them. They were as follows: (1)On one occasion when he was sailing back to Ireland from Nigeria, he was accompanied by a nun who was seriously ill. This nun misunderstood his solicitude for her and on her return told the superior that she believed Bishop Shanahan was in love with her (there being no question of actual illicit acts or words). (2) When he visited the Mother House at Killeshandra, Bishop Shanahan used to take groups of the younger nuns on walks around the grounds while giving them talks on spiritual subjects. The superior thought that this was disturbing their observance of the Rule and that there were problematic emotional undercurrents (once again - and Fr Forristal had the testimony of some of the nuns involved in their old age - there is no question of actually sinful words or behaviour). The superior, influenced by contemporary thought on strict observance of the Rule and avoiding particular attachments, got the nuns to avoid Bishop Shanahan and discouraged him from visiting the convent. This in turn led to a sense, especially among newer arrivals who had never known him, that for all his virtues he must have done something wrong, though they were not sure what. Only in the 60s and 70s, when the correspondence of the people involved was opened and the recollections of survivors collected, was it clear how little substance there had been to the suspicions. (3)This tied into fears that by adapting the Rule (modelled on the semi-contemplative, partly enclosed Dominican sisters, and envisaging Irish climate so not always suited to missions) to African conditions for sisters who went out to his diocese, the Bishop was encouraging laxity and opening the door to worse. Apparently nuns who returned to Killeshandra from the missions were promptly sent on an intensive retreat, suggesting that by being on the missions - which were after all the order's very purpose - they had lowered their standards. All in all a sad story, and a reminder that the wholesale abandonment of religious life post-Vatican II and all the problems that has entailed were partly a reaction to excessive rigour beforehand. The fact that Fr Forristal is quite straightforward about personal rivalries and shortcomings makes his portrayal of the Bishop's saintliness and loving perseverance all the more convincing. And how odd that within the space of a lifetime the Irish CSSPs produced Bishop Shanahan who did so much good and Fr Denis Fahey, who has done so much harm!
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Oct 8, 2014 7:54:18 GMT
Just completed Henry Morton Robinson's The Cardinal, a 1950 novel about the career of a gifted Boston Irish priest, Stephen Fermoyle, from his ordination in 1915 to his elevation as a cardinal in 1939. This is a feel-good book and can be described as a vocation story meets the American Dream. The career of Father Fermoyle very much mirrors the career of Francis Cardinal Spellman, causing me to wonder if this was naive hagiography or the height of sarcasm given some of the folklore I heard about the Cardinal from natives and residents of New York. The character Cardinal Glennon certainly is a guise for Cardinal O'Connell of Boston, but again, his portrayal in the book is very positive in a way that does not accord with what I heard about the man.
However, there are many reasons why the book is of interest:
1. It is a very positive description of Catholicism in the north-eastern US in the early 20th century. All the issues are there, including issues we might not see through a post-conciliar lense;
2. It is very pro-the American way and probably represents the assimilation of immigrants into the US, though it does not gloss over negative aspects, like the depression, or the Ku Klux Klan in the south;
3. Serious issues are handled in the book: anti-semitism, racism, mixed marriage, back-street abortion, dubious medical ethics and the position of the urban and rural poor, especially during the depression;
4. The message is of a largely orthodox US Church under Irish American guidance - fine liturgy, orthodox theology and a strong emphasis on social justice after Leo XIII and Pius XI. The one area which may not be noticeable now is the Americanist tendency in the work, re: freedom of religion and separation of Church and State;
5. The historical crises in Europe: First World War, rise of Italian fascism and to a lesser extent, the growing spectre of Nazism and imminence of the Second World War are done very well. There is early criticism of US foreign policy in regard to Mexico, for example, which is interesting. The writer also holds up European cultural as a model for the US and admires European cosmopolitanism.
If I may cross-reference another thread, I think this book is a model deliberately used by Malachi Martin in two of his novels: Vatican and Windswept House, where the hero is always a solidly orthodox American priest who takes on incredible odds and finally triumphs. But Martin's use of this device is much more cynical
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Post by Ranger on Oct 8, 2014 12:30:50 GMT
I know that this has already been discussed here, but I've only now watched Calvary; the trailers made it out to be a sort of black comedy so I wasn't bothered going at first, but upon hearing positive opinions from Catholic friends I rented it out.
Hibernicus is right in saying that the tone is a bit fragmented, at times light, at times serious in a sometimes jarring kind of way, and some points did stick out like a sore thumb insofar as they made it obvious that Catholics had not made the film (the aforementioned reception of Communion on the tongue, as well as Brendan Gleeson's fellow priest character having a casual chat about what was said in Confession early on in the film). But on the whole I thought that there were some very good positives to it; Gleeson's character is portrayed quite sympathetically and I think that the cynical, passive-agressive attitude of the parishioners towards him is a good insight into the kind of casual disrespect priests often have to deal with nowadays. I thought that if anything it humanised the figure of the priest, treating him as more than just a one-dimensional abstraction and/or hate figure like almost every other priest we've seen in Irish cinema in the last twenty years. I found the final scene in the prison quite powerful, and I wonder if the sight of somebody crying over the death of a priest close to them could cause the average Irish viewer to think of them in more human terms. Gleeson comes across as being truly concerned for his flock, and I think that the final confrontation portrays him as very Christ-like, willing to go to his death to try and reach out to the lost sheep. A few things that I thought were interesting: I'm not sure why the makers of the film felt the need to give the priest a daughter, but it occured to me that they might have thought it necessary in order to make him more of a human character. I also found the French woman's faith in the face of tragedy moving. I wondered if it was cynicism or something else that caused the producers to have the one lay person who seems to have a deep, sincere faith be French rather than Irish.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Oct 22, 2014 7:31:22 GMT
One of the few times where what I cite is short and on the internet, this is a reflection on what Antichrist might be like by the late 19th Century Russian convert, Vladimir Soloviev (probably appropriate with Cardinal Newman looking down, Soloviev has been called the Russian Newman): goodcatholicbooks.org/antichrist.html
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Post by hibernicus on Oct 22, 2014 19:18:55 GMT
A few points on the Soloviev story: The starting-point very much reflects the "Yellow Peril" preoccupations of the early C20, an Irish example of this would be Standish O'Grady's THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD which describes a far-future world ruled by a decadent Russo-Chinese empire which is opposed by rebels led by a descendant of the British royal house. The idea that Chinese hegemony would foster religious syncretism and Eastern-style pantheism is again a reflection of fin de siecle tendencies, which of course have advanced a lot further in our own time. The emphasis on Chinese influence reflects the long Russian border with China and interest in carving out a sphere of influence in China (before the Japanese kicked them out in the 1905 Russo-Japanese War). In fact, Indian influence was probably more important than Chinese (think of Yeats and the way in which Theosophy, which is a product of this period, has fed through into various New Age movements, some of which claim to reconcile science and religion in a very questionable manner; one reason why GK Chesterton was a Little Englander was that he feared that the INdian Empire had led to Britain being influenced both by Oriental monist/pantheist philosophy with its view of God as impersonal, and that there was a link between this,oriental despotism, and the mindset of those like Froude who thought the authoritarian imperial administration of India was superior to the way Britain itself was run). The idea that Antichrist would not be a materialist but a "deeply spiritual" man is very profound - cf Newman's remark in his famous essay on THE PROTESTANT IDEA OF ANTICHRIST, which is well worth a read, extremely funny, and inspired by the book of a Church Of Ireland clergyman called J Henthorn Todd arguing against the view that the Pope is Antichrist, that the point about Antichrist is that he will greatly resemble Christ, so that one might expect Christ to be mistaken for Antichrist as well as the converse. The attempt to enter the mindset of Antichrist is very striking and an interesting contrast with RH Benson, whose antichrist is completely enigmatic and unknowable - there is no sense of how he might have BECOME antichrist, which as Soloviev presents it requires a certain assent on the part of the candidate. Note BTW how the Antichrist in Soloviev himself succumbs to, and offers to others, the Temptations in the Wilderness. I notice he has the Papacy moving to Russia and benefiting thereby, which is I suppose an Orthodox touch (but note also the nice little detail that the true believer whom the Antichrist is too proud to imitate is an old Polish peasant woman - presumably Catholic - rather than a Russian counterpart). The idea of Germany as leader of PRotestantism would be much more credible then than now, and is based on the prestige of German academic theology (note the German St Paul is presented as a professor). The idea of the False PRophet as wielder of atmospheric electricity again reflects the new technology of Soloviev's time and the fascination with the generation and transmission of electric current - if you want to get a sense of the electro-mysticism of the era, a look at the cult which surrounds and surrounded in his own lifetime the great physicist and technologist Nikolai Tesla would be a good place to start. The temptations the Antichrist offers to the three branches of Christianity reflect the ORthodox image of Catholicism (as founded on power and law), itself (living tradition) and Protestantism (rationalism, which the Orthodox would see as derived from the same Augustinian mistake as Catholic legalism). The final comment in the linked version by Balthasar - that Soloviev puts much of his own philosophy into the mouth of Antichrist - is very striking indeed and a remarkable sign of humility.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Nov 4, 2014 11:44:00 GMT
Just finished Philip Jenkins' book on the effect of the First World War on world religion, The Great and Holy War. I'd recommend it highly.
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Post by maolsheachlann on Nov 4, 2014 14:52:30 GMT
I'm reading a biography of Cardinal Avery Dulles (or is it Avery Cardinal Dulles?). He was (as I'm sure you all know) a liberal theologian who became more conservative as he grew older. He shared in the Vatican II euphoria and reforming spirit. He even gave the Eucharist to Protestants at one ecumenical service although he was embarrassed by this later. What's interesting to me is that he was from a Calvinist background-- son of the famous Secretary of State John Foster Dulles-- and he was attracted to Catholicism because he saw that it retained Christian orthodoxy and supernaturalism where the Protestant churches were discarding these things. So you would assume that he would have the 'zeal of the convert' and be a champion of orthodoxy, but he was completely carried away by the 'spirit of the council'. His favourite theory seemed to be that dogmas had to be understand historically and not as being timeless formulations. At the point of the biography I've reached now, he's beginning to question some of the dottier things Hans Kung is saying, and he's getting frustrated at the aimlessness of ecumenical discussions, but he's still fairly liberal. The atmosphere around Vatican II must have been extremely intoxicating if so many people lost their heads completely. What's interesting is that there was a boom in Jesuit vocations in America after the war, which IMMEDIATELY fell off after the post-Vatican II reforms. And, in Dulles's own 'theologate', which is an institution for teaching theology (I didn't know that), the reforms were sweeping, very much in line with the demands being made by student radicals in the wider society, to the extent that there wasn't much theology being taught and some newly-ordained Jesuits were refusing to kiss the bishops' ring at ordination ceremonies.
It's also interesting that the Catholic centre that Dulles helped to found at Harvard became a base (after his time there) for the notorious Fr. Leonard Feeney, whose very strict interpretation of 'no salvation outside the church' led him to be condemned as a heretic. Dulles actually said that Feeney was a big influence in encouraging him to become a Jesuit.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Nov 5, 2014 8:44:59 GMT
Dulles was one of many sons of leading WASP families at Harvard who embraced the faith largely through the influence of Fr Leonard Feeney. I should say there were several factors that made Fr Feeney go off the rails, but it was Fr Dulles who essentially got him reconciled with the Church. But regarding those conversions: many became priests or religious; others left Harvard to study in Boston College (run by Jesuits and then solidly orthodox) on the grounds there was content to the philosophy in Boston College and nothing in Harvard. This really scandalised their families (and earned Fr Feeney many powerful enemies).
But Cardinal Dulles is an example of someone who went full circle in the course of his career as a theologian.
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Post by hibernicus on Jan 7, 2015 21:49:18 GMT
Watched Episode One of the RTE docu-drama about Charlie Haughey on RTE Player recently. This is a somewhat painful subject, given that any "social conservative" who was around in the 80s will have found themselves aligned with Haughey at some point given that the alternative was Garret FitzGerald's "constitutional crusade". An interesting detail; the opening montage of Ireland in 1979, full of strikes, tax demonstrations, etc includes a shot of one of the Papal Masses, which seems to be presented along with the rest as a sign of how backward Ireland was then. Overall, it struck me as being grossly over-sympathetic to Haughey, almost as presenting him as he would have liked to see himself. Sure, it had the bagman and the cheques from the business buddies, and it had the affair with Terry Keane, but these were presented as a great deal more venial than they actually were (partly because, presumably for reasons of libel and sensitivity, it didn't feature the spouses and children of either, so that the element of personal betrayal and quasi-public humiliation was not brought out, nor did it show that for each of that pair the other was simply a supporting prop in their great love affair with themselves.) The key, I think was that instead of reading Haughey forward from the Arms Trial (as most people did at the time) it read him backwards from the Celtic Tiger boom with whose inception he unquestionably had something to do. (I think this reflects a little phenomenon I've noticed - my generation and those a bit older think of "modern Ireland" as beginning in 1959, the generation below me think of it as beginning in 1990.) This leads to the suggestion that Haughey always had a coherent plan which he only got to put into effect in 1987, and if he hadn't been frustrated by envious pigmies the Celtic Tiger and the Northern Irish peace process might have got underway in the early 1980s. I think this leaves out the volatility and incoherence which were part of the man's makeup; what he did in the late 80s was made possible by the circumstances of the late 80s. Similarly, Colley and O'Malley had many drawbacks, but they weren't just the complacent sniggering snobs portrayed in the drama so far - they were genuinely afraid that Haughey would wreck the country by instituting a Peronist kleptocracy or by intentionally or otherwise bringing the Northern Ireland conflict into the Republic, and you can't really understand that unless you fully grasp the Arms Trial. (BTW the references to the Arms Trial also suggested a degree of consistency from Haughey that he certainly did not exhibit; he perjured himself to evade responsibility even though in so doing he endangered the position of his fellow-defendants.) How odd to see what seems like yesterday to me, fictionalised for a new generation who have no memory of it.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Jan 9, 2015 9:23:21 GMT
I haven't watched "Charlie" yet - but I intend to. The last time I intentionally watched RTÉ was the last documentary that the station did of the late Taoiseach, which I found disappointing. But like Hibernicus, I remember Charlie; beginning in my consciousness when he was Minister for Health and Social Welfare in the 1977-79 Lynch administration. I read some of the reviews, and in one way they are educative. The media were by-and-large anti-Haughey. Now, this is something we can learn from as they are close enough to the situation for us to realise they have a point (and I say this coming from a background where at least half of my family who are traditional-understanding FF people to whom Charlie Haughey would have had a strong appeal, especially in reference to the conflict between the FF hawks and doves in the Lynch cabinet at the arms trial era - they would have identified with Haughey/Blaney/Boland over Lynch/Hillary/Colley; Patrick Hillary's role is often forgotten, as is the fast the former IRA Chief of Staff, Frank Aiken was seriously opposed to Charles Haughey). Be that as it may, seeing the commentary of a certain type of journalist on the new series, it occurred to me that this was celebrating Charles Haughey and that the FF party could potentially benefit from it for all the wrong reasons. If I modify this view on watching the programme, I will say so.
I should add, in spite of sympathy with CJH's perceived republicanism, the reason I supported him in 1987 was because Garrett FitzGerald's constitutional crusade (and I wasn't impressed by many of Garrett's other policies or general ability in office either). A great many other people took the line solely on the latter point. In the circumstances, I don't think we had much choice, which I was shocked by the amount of clerical students I knew who voted FG in the February 87 election regardless of this.
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Post by hibernicus on Jan 9, 2015 22:27:42 GMT
As regards Charlie's republicanism, I confess my sympathy or respect for it is limited. The bit I can sympathise with is his awareness of the plight of Catholics/nationalists in the North (he actually witnessed sectarian rioting in the Maghera area at the age of nine, when he was visiting relatives) and one reason why so many people were willing to give him a pass on the Arms Trial was because the Troubles began with a massive outbreak of sectarian violence against Catholics/nationalists in which large numbers of people were forced from their homes, and in which even some Northern politicians later vehemently opposed to the IRA came down to Dublin and begged for guns to defend the ghettoes. I can have some respect for some of those involved in the Arms Trial (Captain Kelly, Kevin Boland, to some extent even Neil Blaney) for this reason even though I think their strategy was mad (it involved using what became the Provisional IRA as a proxy force for the Southern government on the assumption that (a) the IRA could be kept under control (b) the British would just get up and withdraw - and the fact that the smuggling plot was carried out so ineptly that the British rapidly became aware of it adds to the unbelievability of this (c) that if the British had withdrawn the loyalists would just surrender rather than lashing out). The trouble with Haughey is that while he did have a sort of visceral identification with the Northerners, part of his motivation was not to let Blaney - who was the main mover - get too far ahead of him in playing the green card, and at the trial he was quite willing to throw his co-defendants to the wolves by claiming he knew nothing about it. (Kevin Boland left a statement to be published after Haughey's death saying that Haughey had discussed the arms plot with him at the time; Boland wrecked his career rather than vote against his conscience, so I know which of them I believe.)
My parents were Cosgrave Fine Gaelers who switched to FF from dislike of Garret, and would have admired Lynch and disliked Haughey. (The fact that Des O'Malley became associated with social liberalism tends to disguise the fact that many of the anti-Haugheyites, such as Colley and especially Jim Gibbons, were quite socially conservative.) Again, this goes back a long way; we had a relative who was a parish priest in north Wexford in the 1960s when Charlie and some of his pals used to take holidays in Courtown Harbour, before the Continent became so easily accessible, and their goings-on were renowned far and wide. (When the IRISH TIMES published extracts from Colm Toibin's new novel, which is set in Enniscorthy in the 1960s, I was amused to see that he has one of the characters referring in conversation to Charlie's antics at Courtown.)
In retrospect, I have somewhat more respect for Garret FitzGerald than Charlie Haughey, because Garret did have some sort of internal moral structure whereas Charlie seems fundamentally amoral, but what does strike me on reading Garret's late memoir JUST GARRET is that he has a remarkable ability for self-deception founded on self-righteousness. (One favourite example, which I still remember from a couple of his 90s columns with horror, was his claim that his aim in trying to legalise divorce had been to promote marriage, and that the delay in legalising divorce was responsible for the rising rate of cohabitation and the establishment of a culture of cohabitation. The only way to believe this is to believe that the Irish are a different species from the countries which already had divorce, which indeed had loosened their divorce laws about as far as they would go, and still saw increased cohabitation in the same period; but Garret would contort himself to any angle to avoid facing up to the full implications of his views. In his memoir, BTW he says that he convinced himself at the age of 15 that the Council of Trent was wrong in decreeing illicit marriages -which he equates with register office marriages at the present day - were invalid rather than illicit, and that he had never seen any reason to change his view since - in 70 years!. Now I can see quite a strong case that NE TEMERE was too stringent and unfair to non-Catholics who had entered into such an union in good faith, but Garret's position seems to imply (a) that anyone should be able to contract a valid marriage simply by unwitnessed mutual consent and subsequent cohabitation, which was what Trent meant by "illicit marriages"; the history of Scotland, where this was the case until 1945, provides a long list of the problems this entails (b) that the Church ought to accept as valid any marriage considered valid by the state.)
BTW, another reason has occurred to me why the series struck me as pro-Haughey; he is the protagonist and is onscreen most of the time, and the situation is seen from his point of view. We never see his enemies within the party except in their interactions with him, and we never see his opponents outside the party at all (when Haughey is elected Taoiseach we hear a voice declaiming Garrett's "flawed pedigree" speech and similar onslaughts by Noel Browne and Frank Cluskey, but we never see the opposition politicians). I remember seeing a quote from the novelist Brian Moore, who did the screenplay for one of Hitchcock's later and lesser movies, saying that while he didn't particularly like Hitchcock he did learn one important lesson and that is that the audience instinctively identifies with the protagonist of a sequence. He gives the example of a scene where a criminal is carrying out a long and delicately-planned burglary, and as they are leaving, without realising it they drop a glove which will identify them. Even if the character is already established in the audience's minds as a thief, a murderer, an all-round scoundrel, everyone in the cinema will think to themselves "Pick up the glove!" So in the same way, because the audience sees Haughey's actions and Haughey drives the plot, the instinctively identify with Haughey. If there were long sequences with, say, Colley and O'Malley discussing their fears or their plans for their next coup without Haughey being aware of them, the audience would identify in those sequences with Colley and O'Malley and be correspondingly distanced from Haughey (because they would know what he doesn't). The absence of such sequences mean the audience is dominated by Haughey and drawn to identify with his aspiration to be master of the world. (The fact that Brian Lenihan is played not only as a clown - which he was - but as an idiot - which he wasn't - likewise is playing the ground in Haughey's favour. IF Lenihan were played as Haughey's old crony and loyalist - Lenihan and Haughey were drinking buddies going back to the Lemass era - then Haughey's dumping Lenihan in 1990 would be seen as the Lenihans saw it, as a heinous personal betrayal. If the portrayal of Lenihan carries on in the same way, the series will portray that incident as "the idiot screwed up again".)
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Jan 13, 2015 8:58:16 GMT
With regard to the background to the Arms Trial, I have this to add to what Hibernicus said. I grew up in the 1970s in an area of south County Dublin which had a huge influx of new residents, though my own family lived there for generations. As such, people came from everywhere. When I went through my First Communion class photograph in the mid-1970s, I could point to several children who were essentially refugees from the sectarian violence in the North, who came south in the hope of something better and moved into Dublin's newer suburbs. There might have been five of such kids in a class of 40, which is 12.5%. This doesn't reflect a national average, but in some areas it was a significant proportion.
The point that CJH used the green card though is well taken. For example, the failure to re-integrate Neil Blaney's Independent FF into FF after 1987 is an indicator. Blaney opposed many of Charlie's U-turns in the 1987-89 period. But to return to the series, I watched the first episode on real player and found it to be pure pantomime. I don't want to get Hibernicus wrong, so I'll give my opinion independent of his - if we agree, you decide. I think it is more likely to popularise Charlie than his opponents (Colley/O'Malley/Opposition figures), all of whom come across as one-dimensional figures. I believe the American expression is losers (which I don't believe they were. They may have lost, but they weren't what you'd call losers).
Re: the first episode, there were a couple of aspects I hadn't expected. One was that Charlie already attempted social partnership in 1980-81, in a way to buy him time, but very irresponsibly nonetheless. Secondly, that CJH/PJM were focussing on the Spring Ard-Fheis to launch a general election, but this was derailed by the Stardust tragedy. By the time the election came round, the H-block hunger strikes were under way. After Bobby Sands took the Westminister seat in the Fermanagh South Tyrone by-election, Ciarán Doherty and Paddy Agnew were respectively elected for Cavan-Monaghan and Louth in the 1981 election (this success prompted Provisional SF to try politics in the long term). However, had the election been run earlier, it is far from clear that FF would have won.
I am just considering the figures that Colley and O'Malley cut in the series and they remind me of Francis Urquhart's opponents within the Conservative Party in the first series of the British House of Cards. I wonder if the successes of the British and American House of Cards was a spur for this.
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Post by Ranger on Jan 13, 2015 13:57:24 GMT
Is that the same Paddy Agnew who's religious affairs correspondent for the Irish Times...?
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Jan 14, 2015 9:16:52 GMT
No. The former prisoner and TD Paddy Agnew (he wasn't on hunger strike; but as a Dundalk native and prisoner, he was put forward in Louth where he won a seat which otherwise would have gone to FF, as is the case with Ciarán Doherty in Cavan-Monaghan, who died on hunger strike that summer). This Paddy Agnew is still alive, living in Dundalk and an active SF member, but he has never been a candidate for them. The Irish Times man is quite different.
The Dáil arithmetic in 1981 was quite inconclusive - FF had 78 and the combined FG-Lab had 80. The others were the two named H-block TDs who didn't sit; Neil Blaney (Independent FF); Dr John O'Connell (Independent Labour, leaning FF's way - later FF); Dr Noel Browne (Socialist Labour); Seán Dublin Bay Loftus (Christian Socialist may have been his designation); Joe Sherlock (SF The Workers' Party); Jim Kemmy (Democratic Socialist). Had CJH had those two extra seats, he would have been in a position to make a deal with Blaney and O'Connell and another independent to hold a tenuous majority. O'Connell became Ceann Comhairle. The first FitzGerald coalition lasted 7 months - Kemmy and Browne voted against its budget in February mainly over John Bruton's proposal to add VAT to clothing and footwear.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Jan 28, 2015 8:38:32 GMT
Just finished an older book, Paul Johnson's History of Christianity (Penguin, 1975; reprinted 1990). In a way, the name is an overstatement as there is a concentration of English ecclesiastical history, with good assessment of French church history, but other nation's only come in relative to their importance at various times: Ireland in the early mediaeval period, Germany for Reformation, Kulturkampf and world wars. Given how broad the title "Christianity" is, there is little about the orthodox world; still less about the oriental orthodox; and the Protestant denomination most covered is Anglicanism (I'd say the thumbnail sketch of Methodism is very good, but relative to Methodism's position in the scheme of Christianity, disproportionate). If I didn't know Johnson was a Catholic, I would have assumed he was Anglican from the book. It's also interesting that at the time he wrote it, he was a Bennite (he was editor of the New Statesman not long before); since he became a Thatcherite and he has a home in the Telegraph/Spectator axis these days. In 1975, he seems to have be full of the euphoria of the Second Vatican Council (thus commentary on the earlier Church needs to be read in that light). Though the more pessimistic view he quotes for the 1960s can be said to be borne out from a left wing point of view, he might not see things that way now.
One lesson I do take from the book, is that those of us who are younger than the Council, and who tend to be traditionalist/Conservative, need to engage with why the older generation welcomed the Council and often believe passionately that the Council was more liberal than its texts suggests, and why the dynamic that ignited the post-conciliar period happened. Reading this gives some insight.
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