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Ireland's political and cultural magazine
November/December 2020 61
D
ONAGH O’MALLEY’S darin
introduction of free secondary
education is rihtly seen as one of
the most revolutionary acts in Irish
educational history. Of equal, if not
more, importance was the radical policy of
closure and amalamation of small one and
two teacher primary schools in
CULTURE
Raic, 1970
By Colm Ó Snodaigh
How nationwide civil disobedience saved a tiny Kerry
national school, 50 years ago
The Department
recommended the two-
teacher Dún Chaoin
school be closed and
amalgamated with the
three-teacher school
country’s primary schools were closed, the
only social institution in many small rural
parishes and the introduction of a school bus
service which saw children no longer receiving
their primary education locally.
Led by Colley and backed by his most
senior and powerful Department of Education
officials, Seán MacGearailt and Seán O’Connor,
the policy was stealthily introduced in
the Dáil before the summer break in July
1965. Having secured the support of the
teacher unions by promising that no teach
-
ers would lose their job, Colley wooed the
Catholic hierarchy by promising that they
wouldn’t have to pay for school transport.
It took the publication of the OECD-
sponsored report ‘Investment in Education’
in December 1965 for the opposition to
realise that the policy wasn’t as nuanced
as it could or should have been, but by
then the cat was well and truly out of the
bag. The contents of the report (of which the
Minister and his ocials had long been aware)
had provided cover for the policy’s introduc
-
tion.
he Department understood that
temperatures would rise in some areas and
held public meetings attended by the local
inspector, the school manager (parish priest)
implemented by his predecessor, Geore
Colley.
A thorough overhaul of the primary school
sector had long since been sought by school
inspectors. Isolated and dilapidated schools
had become the bane of many teachers’ lives.
And so ten years later over a quarter of the
62 November/December 2020
and one of the three senior Department
inspectors. They invariably managed to allay
any fears, heal any rifts and proceed with
what seemed to be a sensible policy based on
economic and educational concerns.
There were flashpoints and protests but in
general these lasted only a couple of weeks.
One of the major flashpoints involved a school
in Limerick’s Montpelier. The parents’ protest
lasted nine months and when matters finally
settled down three schools welcomed children
that once received education in one school.
The policy took five years to reach Scoil
Naomh Gobnait, a two-teacher school in Dún
Chaoin in the West Kerry Gaeltacht, one of the
strongest Gaeltachtaí in the country. The school
looked out at the storied Blasket islands, home
of Peig Sayers. In the late 1960s, pupils from
the school had played roles in the David Lean
movie, ‘Ryan’s Daughter’, and were regularly
transported en masse to the ‘film school’, built
for the purpose nearby.
Having analysed the parish’s dwindling pop
-
ulation trends, inspector Donnchadh Ó Bro-
lacháin, recommended the school be closed
and amalgamated with the three-teacher
school in Baile an Fheirtéaraigh, five miles
north of Dún Chaoin.
The biggest problem with his plan was that
he never told any of the parents whose children
his decision affected! His co-conspirator,
school manager, Fr Mícheál Ó Ciosáin, was
also mute in this regard. Ó Ciosáin (who much,
much later admitted his mistake) never spoke
to the Dún Chaoin parents about the school
and also disregarded very widely attended and
vociferous public meetings.
And so in August when a Dingle bus-driver
employed to do the new school run called to
parents in Dún Chaoin asking how many of their
children would be attending Baile an Fheirté
-
araigh’s school, the rumour-machine kicked
into action.
Irish Times journalist Dónal Foley was holi
-
daying on the peninsula at the time and he
smelled a story. He rang Ó Ciosáin demand
-
ing answers. The priest grudgingly confirmed
that the school wasn’t to reopen. Two days
later the paper carried a story giving voice to
the outraged parents who felt that the school’s
clandestine closure was merely an extension of
Government policy to shut the Gaeltacht down.
The day before Foley’s article was published
a young local co-operative employee, Breandán
Mac Gearailt, drove to Dún Chaoin to canvass
support for a public meeting to discuss the
closure. On his way into the parish he spotted
newly-weds Breandán and Máire Feiritéir, on
the side of the road. He’d heard that they had
recently moved home from Hastings. He pulled
over his car, jumped out and chatted to them
saying with determination that “something had
to be done”.
The public meeting held the following
evening in the soon-to-be-closed creamery in
the belly of Dún Chaoin captured the imagi
-
nation of the Feiritéir couple. Breandán felt as
though he’d heard the voice of his parish and
both he and Máire heroically volunteered to
teach in the “unocial” school until a qualified
teacher was appointed. They remained central
to the campaign as did Mac Gearailt.
A letter to the Irish Times in early Septem
-
ber, by UCD lecturer Breandán Ó Buachalla
captured the mood. Insisting that linguistic
and cultural planning was every bit as valid and
necessary as economic planning he argued that
Dún Chaoin “may not be a viable economic unit
(thanks to ocial neglect). I am certain, how
-
ever, that it is still a viable cultural and social
unit”.
Three long years ensued of public meetings,
placard-protests, letter-writing and doorstep
-
ping of politicians by the outraged community.
They received generous moral and financial
support from Irish-language activists around
the country. Among those who supported them
were writer Máirtín Ó Cadhain and poet Máire
Mhac An tSaoi, who had attended the school
in her youth. John Horgan, Dónal Farmer, Bre
-
andán Ó hEithir and Muiris Mac Conghail were
all influential and concerned visitors to Dún
Chaoin at that time.
A civil-rights-type march from Dingle to Dub
-
lin (part organised by poets Michael Davitt and
Liam Ó Muirthile and the UCC Cumann Gaelach,
An Chuallacht) was staged and a sit-down on
O’Connell St culminating in a vicious attack by
the Garda, one of whom was reported as threat
-
ening “We’ll kick the Irish out of you”, on the
protesters. There was also a brief occupation of
the Department of the Gaeltacht the following
day. The school made for good copy. It was in
eect, a remarkable campaign of civil disobe
-
dience. MacGearailt commented, “Let’s be
honest about it, theastaigh uainn raic a thógáil
agus poiblíocht a fháil”. They certainly gener
-
ated a ‘raic’!
In the meantime the children’s education
continued unbroken with the appointment of a
young Kildare man, Mícheál Ó Dubhshláine, as
teacher. He remained there until his retirement
in 2003.
Throughout the protest the Fianna Fáil Min
-
Irish Times journalist Dónal
Foley was holidaying nearby
and smelled a story, giving
voice to the outraged
parents who felt that the
school’s clandestine closure
showed Government policy
to shut the Gaeltacht down.
ister of Education Pádraig Faulkner remained
steadfast in his refusal to row back on his un
-
popular decision. A delegation comprising TK
Whittaker, George Colley and Fianna Fáil fixer
Noel Mulcahy approached him with a formula
to reopen the school (with minimal reputational
damage) and Faulkner still said no!
It took the change of government in 1973
and the appointment of Dick Burke as Minister
for Education to re-open the school “for cul
-
tural reasons”. He even sent his children (one
of whom I note is a solid Village contributor!)
to the school for extended periods such was
his determination that the school survive and
thrive. Members of my own family attended too.
It was a happy place.
The school has remained open since then
and is thriving fifty years since it was closed.
Dún Chaoin - Oscail an Scoil! by Colm Ó
Snodaigh was published by Coiscéim in 2017.
