Visionary move to free education by O’Malley had a lasting impact
Opening up second-level schooling to all was a revolutionary idea that was executed brilliantly, writes Mary O’Rourke
THIS year will be a year of centenaries, many of which have the potential to be difficult for great sections of society. In the midst of all the historical data, it is interesting to note that 1921 was also the year of the birth of Donogh O’Malley, who went on to become a famous minister for education.
O’Malley was born in Limerick, qualified as an engineer at UCG and went into local and later national politics, having been elected for the Limerick city constituency to Dáil Éireann.
Seán Lemass was taoiseach at that time and he had done much to remove the straitjacket of protectionism which shrouded Ireland and to open it up to outside trade — and particularly to inward investment.
Donogh was appointed minister for education in 1966. He cultivated a great rapport with journalists and was always happy in their company. In September of 1966, he was a guest speaker at a seminar of journalists in Dublin, at which he announced that the government would be introducing free secondary education for all children up to the age of 18.
This was an absolutely revolutionary idea. Up to then, students who went to secondary school had to pay for their education.
There was mayhem after his announcement and great subsequent debate as to whether he had spoken about it with Lemass before he made the dramatic announcement at the seminar.
He did run it by Lemass — informally — before he spoke. He pointed out that the opening up of Ireland, the investment in public spending, and the intake of foreign investment all demanded that our young people be fully educated to fit in with the change in outlook and circumstances in what had hitherto been a small, hidebound Irish nation.
So his announcement was not a wild card, as had been generally presumed when he made it. In fact, it was a deliberate ploy that he would announce it before bringing anything formal to cabinet, so in that way the myriad objections of the Department of Finance would be obstructed.
Now, why should the Department of Finance object to such a fine idea?
As is well known, ministers bring memorandums of weighty portfolios to cabinet, outlining their ideas of what should be spent in their department. And it is the job of the Department of Finance to thwart any such burgeoning ideas of public expenditure.
It is not that they are being difficult; it is just plainly their job to act as a spur to what, in many circumstances, would be departmental and/or ministerial high-flying kites.
Not so in this case. O’Malley made his announcement at the seminar and at the following cabinet meeting he was asked by the Taoiseach to explain himself, and he did, in a far-reaching and erudite way.
There was widespread approval at cabinet for the idea and he was told to go back to his department and to work through a costed programme of what finance would be needed to allow every second-level girl and boy to obtain free secondary education. Combined with this, he also announced there would be free public transport for pupils living in remote areas.
The Department of Finance was faced with a fait accompli, and so the embryonic idea took wing and flew. In the following school year of September 1967, we had the beginnings of free second-level education for every young person in Ireland.
It is difficult to estimate the huge change that this brought about in Irish society. Suddenly, realms of knowledge and education were opened up to huge numbers of young people, who began to see that there was a whole world outside of Primary Cert and there were horizons to be scaled to which they now had the key of free second-level education. It was absolutely monumental.
At this time, I met Donogh O’Malley. He had come to Athlone to open a junior primary school, St Paul’s, and I was doing my teacher training in the secondary school of the adjoining St Peter’s while studying as a mature student for my HDip in Maynooth.
The nun in charge brought me down to meet the minister for education. He was charming and outgoing and said: “Come along and meet my wife Hilda, she’s in the car outside – we’re going home to Limerick.” And so I met Hilda O’Malley, she of the dark hair whom Patrick Kavanagh immortalised in Raglan Road: On Raglan Road, on an autumn day,
I met her first and knew That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue.
I remember being struck by the good looks of both of them: dark-haired, young and imbued with what I thought was a political allure and promise. I followed his later announcement of the setting up of nine regional colleges in Ireland in order to pursue the further education of those young people for whom he had opened the doors of promise.
Sadly, Donogh died from a heart attack in March 1968. His name, however, is constantly invoked in Ireland, in particular for his groundbreaking announcement of free secondary education.
‘Dark-haired, young and imbued with a political allure and promise’