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[
page 11 ]
[ Chapter One ]
The
Myths
[ The five main myths that the
Catholic Church has spread about and wants you to believe – laid
wide open and once and for all laid permanently to rest. ]
[
And the same holds true and can be said with regard not only to
the Catholic Church but also with regard to the Protestant Church(es)
all around the world, wherever they were involved in the running of
children’s institutions of one kind or another, “residential
schools”, “industrial schools”, “reformatory
schools”, “missions” or “work houses”.
This applies especially also to fundamentalist Evangelical-Lutheran
Church institutions in Germany (institutions of this kind, of the
“Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland”), and its
‘charitable’ and “missionary” arm, first
known as the “Innere Mission” and later as the
“Diakonischen Werke”, and particularly also to such
church institutions (business enterprises = Wirtschaftsunternehmen)
as the “v. Bodelschwinghschen Anstalten Bethel” (by
Bielefeld), the “Rummelsberger Anstalten” (by Nürnberg),
the “Marienstift” (in Braunschweig) and the “Raues
Haus (in Hamburg) and their various subsidiaries in all provinces and
city-states of Germany – church institutions, catholic and
protestant alike (business enterprises = Wirtschaftsunternehmen) that
could not have existed without the sanction and finance of the
Federal Government of Germany itself. ]
It would
be difficult to find an area of Ireland’s recent past that has
been more bedevilled with myths than the country’s enormous
system of industrial schools. Irish society continued until very
recently to have little idea as to the real nature of its
child-detention system. Even people who themselves went through that
system shared many of the misconceptions surrounding the area –
several of which had in fact been perpetuated by the religious orders
who ran the schools.
[ The 1st
Myth ] The first and most pervasive myth was that
the children within the system were objects of charity, cared for by
the religious of Ireland when no one else would do so. The children
themselves were repeatedly told by their religious keepers that were
it not for the charity of the Catholic Church, they would have been
left on the side of the road, abandoned and starving. In the absence
of anyone to contradict this, the children themselves accepted it, as
did the general population.
However, it was fallacy. The
system was entirely the responsibility of the State, established by
law, funded and regulated by the Department of Education. The State
paid a grant to the religious orders for each and every child
committed by the courts to be detained within the system. While the
level of this funding was not by any means overly generous,
comparison with wage levels of the time clearly shows that it should
have been enough to feed and clothe the children adequately. However,
both the personal testimonies in this book and the Department of
Education’s own files illustrate the extent of severe material
deprivation suffered by the children in these schools.
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page 12 ]
The charity myth was undoubtedly most useful.
It served to explain away It served to explain away the often thin
and ragged appearance of many of the children in industrial schools.
While usually kept apart from the general community, the children
were nonetheless highly visible within their localities – in
towns the length and breadth of the country they were to be seen
walking in file every Sunday along the roads. Many who remember this
spectacle often describe it as a sad and pathetic sight. However, the
general view remained that the religious, especially the nuns, were
doing their best under difficult circumstances.
[ The
2nd Myth ] The second important myth is
that these institutions were ‘orphanages’, and that the
children behind the walls were orphans. The use of the word
orphanages was highly inaccurate – under law, the vast bulk of
children’s institutions were especially defined as industrial
schools, established and funded for the industrial training of the
children within them. Most of the children within the system had
either one or both parents still living, and so could not in any
sense be described as orphans.
The ‘orphanages’
myth reinforced the perception by society of the supposed charitable
nature of these institutions. The description of the children as
‘orphans’ was far more likely to elicit sympathy for both
them and their religious carers. It also undoubtedly assisted with
fundraising and a range of other activities.
The reality –
namely that thousands of children were detained in a State-funded
system essentially because their parents were poor – would not
have produced the same levels of either sympathy or charity from the
wider community. Had there been a proper understanding of the true
nature of the system, it is likely that it would not have survived
for so long. Public concern would most probably have been voiced at a
much earlier stage (as in Britain) about the inappropriate nature of
such institutions for child care. In Ireland, the State’s
policy of removing children from their families and funding religious
orders to care for them remained unchanged until 1970. The ‘orphan’
myth essentially meant that the obviously preferable option of giving
that same funding to families to allow them to keep their children at
home was never publicly debated.
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This
misconception was so pervasive that even many of those who grew up
within the system were not aware that they had actually been in an
industrial school. This deeply-rooted misunderstanding of the system
was publicly repeated as recently as 1966, in the seminal television
documentary Dear Daughter,
which dealt with the appalling abuse suffered by Christine Buckley in
what was known (and referred to by the documentary) as Goldenbridge
‘orphanages’. In fact, this was St Vincent’s
Industrial School, Goldenbridge, and had never been an orphanage. It
was funded, inspected and regulated as an industrial school by the
State.
It is important to note that there were indeed several
real orphanages in Ireland. A small number were Church of Ireland
institutions, but most were run by Catholic religious orders. The
majority charged fees, and were usually described as catering for the
children of the middle-classes who had fallen on hard times. They
served a very specific purpose in maintaining a rigid class divide
between children from different backgrounds – a strategy which
was clearly and publicly stated by the Catholic Church in its various
Handbooks for Catholic Social Workers during the 1940s and 1950s.
[
The 3rd Myth ]
Another myth relating to the system was that it mainly dealt with the
children of unmarried mothers. While it is true that there were a
number of such children within industrial schools, they always made
up only a relatively small proportion of the general child population
detained.
One of the more damaging misconceptions concerns the
industrial schools for boys over the age of ten. The religious orders
running these schools were far less likely to refer to them as
orphanages. In fact, there was an erroneous view among the general
public that these institutions were reformatories for children who
had been found guilty of criminal offences.
Once again, this
was largely untrue – only a relatively small number of the
children in these schools had any criminal convictions. The vast
majority detained in senior boys’ industrial schools such as
Upton, Glin, Artane, or Clonmel were there because of the poverty of
their parents. This association
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between
the boys’ institutions and criminality was to dog the footsteps
of many who grew up there.
Allied to this specific
misconception was the general view that the system was mainly for
boys. In fact, the opposite was the case – girls significantly
outnumbered boys for most of the hundred years of the existence of
the industrial schools in Ireland. This was so marked during the
1930s und 1940s that it was the cause of considerable concern to the
Department of Education.
[ The
4th Myth ] Yet another myth, which
continues to this day, is that no one really knew about the nature of
these institutions and the suffering of the children in them. While
it is true that the public at large were probably unaware of the
enormous scale of the system for detaining children within the Irish
State, it is nonetheless evident that there was a clear popular
knowledge of the existence of a punitive and incarceral system for
children.
In every part of the country, people remember how as
children they were threatened with specific industrial schools. The
threat was made in the knowledge that these were highly unpleasant
places to be. While it is probably true to say that the general
population did not know the true horror or extent of the abuse and
maltreatment, it is clear that people knew that children could be and
often were locked up and punished.
In recent years, a number
of arguments have been made to mitigate the stories of horrific abuse
which have emerged from the industrial schools. Primary among these
is the contention that it is unfair to judge what happened in the
past by the standards of today – that in the Ireland of the
1950s children everywhere were badly treated, and that this was the
accepted norm. Consequently, the argument goes, it is unfair to
single out the religious orders in the industrial schools for blame.
This is an important argument, and bears close examination.
Any
detailed analysis of the system reveal a far more complex picture
than this argument supposes. There had, for instance, been a number
of statements from leading Christian Brothers, including their own
founder, Edmund Ignatius Rice, that corporal punishment of boys was
wrong and should be discontinued. These had often been repeated
internally through the decades. The fact that this particular
congregation chose to
[ page 15 ]
ignore
these views does not mean that they were in ignorance of an
alternative and more enlightened way of relating to the children in
their care.
From within the Department of Education, there was
also some dawning understanding of the needs of children caught
within the industrial schools system. In 1943, the Medical Inspector
of Industrial and Reformatory Schools, Dr Anna McCabe, attended a
conference in England on child psychology. She strongly recommended
the establishment of child guidance clinics to assist these most
vulnerable of children. Her recommendations were ignored, once again
not out of ignorance of the value of such an approach, but rather out
of a choice made that such clinics would cost too much.
Fr
Edward Flanagan, the Irish priest who founded the famous Boys Town in
the United States, also published long articles in the Irish papers
in the mid-1940s, condemning the highly abusive and punitive culture
within Irish industrial schools. He also was ignored.
It can
be argued from these and many other similar examples that there was,
certainly from the 1940s onwards, an awareness of the complexities of
dealing with children in need of care. This awareness was clearly not
acted on. The norm remained one of frightening levels of physical
violence within industrial schools, combined with complete emotional
deprivation of the children. To say that no one knew any better at
that time is to ignore the important attempts which were made to
reform the system.
[ The
reality ] The reality is that the Catholic Church
and the State in partnership made certain choices, not so much out of
ignorance but more for financial expediency. The institutional model
for the processing of children into adulthood by religious orders was
undoubtedly the cheapest option available. From the State’s
perspective, any of the more enlightened approaches that they were
aware of would not only have cost
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more,
but would also have been strenuously resisted by the Catholic Church
as an erosion of its power.
[ The
4th and 5th Myths ] Two other
interesting lines of argument have emerged to mitigate the accounts
of child abuse within the industrial schools. The
first [line of argument]
is the “bad apple” theory. This holds that in every group
of people there will always be one or two who behave reprehensibly,
and that this should in no way detract from the good works undertaken
by the others. Furthermore, that in this regard, the Catholic Church
is no different than any other area of life.
Were this true,
it would indeed be a valid point. However, the scale of the abuse of
children within the industrial schools system was so vast as to pose
the most fundamental questions about the nature of religious orders
in this country. The testimony in later chapters of this book gives a
clear sense of the overwhelming extent of that abuse – children
were savagely beaten and treated with extraordinary levels of cruelty
by their religious carers in almost every single one of the fifty-two
industrial and reformatory schools which existed in Ireland for most
of the twentieth century. Very large numbers of the boys in
particular were sexually abused and raped by male members of
religious orders into whose care they were entrusted.
It is
undoubtedly the case that by no means all nuns or Brothers within
institutions were cruel to the child detainees. However, it is
equally clear that those who did not either beat or abuse children
did not stand in the way of the often sadistic excesses of their
fellow religious. This is a point repeatedly made by the survivors of
this abuse. It is a crucial area which the religious orders have so
far failed to address publicly. This specific issue provoked much
comment in the wake of the States of Fear
series, but no explanations or reasons for it have so far been
advanced by the religious congregations involved. [ For a transcript
of the television documentary States of
Fear, see
http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0106/03/sm.09.html
]
The
final line of argument to excuse the behaviour of the
religious orders in the industrial schools is that the system was
never really an Irish one – that it was imposed on Ireland by
the British Government, and that this country merely inherited its
flaws. Chapter Three and Four deal in considerable detail with the
origins of the system, and how it changed and adapted
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to post-independence Ireland. Suffice it to
say that the system became very much one of an Irish creation in the
1920s, at a time when Britain itself was beginning to see the dangers
involved in institutionalising large numbers of children. The British
Government had decided even at that early stage that such a system
caused more harm than good to its small inmates, and had begun the
process of reform. The newly independent Ireland took the opposite
course. It decided for reasons which had very little to do with child
welfare to consolidate even further the institutional system.
The
legacy of the industrial schools continues to pervade many aspects of
Irish life. The revelations in recent years of such severe child
abuse within the system have shocked the nation. It is probable that
such revelations will continue as the Government Commission of
Inquiry into Childhood Abuse, headed by High Court judge Mary Laffoy,
begins its hearings of testimony from the survivors of the
schools.
There are also many hundreds of cases for civil
damages waiting to be heard before the courts. So far, they are being
vigorously contested by both the religious orders involved and by the
State. While this is of course their entitlement, it does appear to
somewhat mitigate the effect of the various apologies issued to
victims by these agencies.
Perhaps most seriously, the Gardaí
are now in the process of investigating hundreds of allegations of
sexual abuse and rape against members of several of the congregations
who ran the industrial schools – to date, allegations of this
nature have been made against up to 150 Brothers. Eleven have been
charged so far and are awaiting trial.
As the enormity of the
crimes committed against so many tens of thousands of vulnerable
children begins to dawn on the general population, the question most
frequently asked is how could it have happened. The following
chapters provide some clues as to the ways in which industrial
schools became such living hells for their child victims.
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