Introduction
The controversy that has erupted over the Tuam mother and baby home is an interesting one. The recent statement from the Mother and Babies Homes Commission of Investigation makes it clear that we know very little by way of hard facts about this case; and certainly almost nothing more since when it first made headlines in 2014. And yet this statement has been treated as if contained fresh and startling information.
Leaving that to one side, the ongoing public conversation about the matter has raised some points I would like to consider. I have no particular thesis to put forward or case to argue. I simply wish to put forward some thoughts concerning it that I have had as the debate rages in the media and across the kitchen tables of the nation.
It was the Catholic Church’s fault such homes existed
The first is the notion, commonly made, that it is the Church’s fault such homes existed in the first place. Yes, they admit, it was society at large who put pregnant and unmarried girls into them. And yes without them the girls would have nowhere to go. But the reason they were considered social pariahs in the first place was because of the influence of Catholic morality on Irish society. Families only cast their daughters out, and communities only drove these vulnerable residents out from among them, because of the toxic effect Catholic morality had had upon them. Without the Church no one would have cared about these girls having sex outside of marriage and getting pregnant.
However, the theory, inconveniently for those who propose it, does not fit with the facts. The main fact it deliberately ignores is that homes such as these were common throughout many jurisdictions throughout the world at this time – many of whom were not Catholic countries. Our nearest neighbour England would be one such country. And the last time the Catholic Church and her teachings were treated with much esteem in that nation was during the reign of Mary Tudor.
Nobody really knew how bad things were in there
This has to be considered patent nonsense. It was known to the authorities of the time that the child mortality rate in the general population was approximately 8 per 100 live births, that in mother and baby homes in general the rate was about 17 per 100, and that in Tuam it was around 31 per 100. The state, on whose behalf these institutions were run and who were responsible for inspecting them, most certainly knew the conditions that prevailed within them. And the idea that the average person on the street had no idea of what went on within is simply not plausible. Most may not have known the details, but everyone knew they were awful places.
The part poverty played in all this has been ignored
Girls finding themselves “in trouble”, to use the euphemism of the day, was not unusual. But the economic circumstances of a girl’s family made a big difference as to how that difficulty would be handled. A young woman whose family had resources was in a position to deal with the matter quietly and discretely. The girl might be shipped off to some private institution far away from her home. Once delivered of her child, the infant was quickly adopted out. The young mother returned home from her “holiday” with no one the wiser. Or she might go off on a long trip with her mother. On their return – surprise! – her mother had a new baby and all the world was presented with the story that the actual mother had a new sister.
But as for the girls from families with no money – well, we all know where they ended up. Some were turfed out by their families and found their way to such homes in desperation; others were deposited in them by their own relatives. But however they ended up there, the sad truth is that they had nowhere else to turn. And they were surely wretched places – how could they be otherwise, funded by the miserable pittance the state gave them? A pittance the state thought more than generous given that these girls were “fallen” women who had brought disgrace upon themselves and their families? With no thought at all, of course, for the “fallen” men who helped put them there.
Another even more sinister point is not being discussed
There have been many accounts in the newspapers and on radio and television from people who were born in these institutions who were taken from their mothers and later tried to re-connect with their families. I have been startled to notice how many of these stories have a common feature that I find rather disturbing: and that is that many of them have discovered that they have siblings who were also born in these institutions also.
The reason that I find this feature so remarkable is that one would have presumed that a young woman having once spent time in such a place would have done everything with her power to avoid going back. The logic being that once bitten is twice shy. And yet many, it seems, found themselves pregnant again and were forced to return – some more than once. This seems to defy rational sense and makes me wonder if a significant number of these women were in some way vulnerable and their pregnancies were not as a result of consensual sexual activity but as a result of some form of abuse. The commonality of such stories is suggestive of a dark underbelly to Irish society of past days the full truth about which may never be known.
Conclusion
These homes were appalling places by today’s standards – and woeful ones by the standards of their own time. It is regrettable that the narrative of these places is being used by some to engage in useless craw-thumping along the lines of how terrible the past was and how much more enlightened we are today; or, worse, is being hijacked to further various agenda in today’s society that have no relevance to these institutions, such as the repeal of the Eighth Amendment or the further weakening of the denominational educational system. The truth is that most of the people involved in the running of those institutions no doubt saw themselves as decent and honourable people who were doing what was best for the residents in them. If we truly wish to honour the memories of those who suffered within them, and particularly those who died within them, we might do better to consider what aspects of our own society future generations may regard with the same horror with which we now look back on these homes. We can do nothing to change what happened in places like Tuam. But if we learn from it and similar cases we may well put ourselves in a position to do something about the wrongs that we are now committing today ourselves.
About the Author: The Rev Patrick G Burke
The Rev Patrick G Burke is the Church of Ireland rector of the Castlecomer Union of Parishes, Co Kilkenny. A regular contributor to Position Papers, he was formerly a broadcast journalist with the Armed Forces Radio and Television Network. He blogs at thewayoutthere1.blogspot.ie.