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By Msgr. Noel C. Burtenshaw
(Msgr. Burtenshaw recently paid a visit to
Ireland and has written a three-part series on the economy, on the Church and
on violence in that nation. The following is part 1.)
Danny O'Brien is out of work. He is married and
has three young children. With his wife, Helen, and family he lives in a
two-bedroom public housing flat in the heart of Dublin. Danny has not had a
permanent job in four years.
Dublin's inner city is full of Danny O'Briens.
They huddle without much hope in the old areas living on "relief." This means
they take what they can from the government in food and free clothing and
pocket about 40 dollars per week to exist on. They are allowed a little for
light and heat. Hope is a word they have forgotten how to use.
"It is bad," says Sister Euphrasia, a Good
Shepherd nun who visits the families in Danny's parish. "They go stale waiting
for a job. Broken homes are common. Wives and families deserted by hopeless,
broken men, frequently show up at our convent door. There seems to be no end or
solution to this unemployment problem."
Danny's father and all his five brothers worked on
Dublin's once busy dockside. But that work has dried up. Automation and
machinery eliminated much of the work. Unskilled workers (and very often even
the very skilled) were laid off. Solutions were few.
"Twenty years ago," says Gerry McCarthy, a labor
lawyer employed by a Dublin trade union, "Danny O'Brien had three options open
to him. He could have gone to England and found a job, afterwards sending for
his family. He could have borrowed the fare and emigrated to America and
started a new life like millions of Irishmen and women before him. Or he could
have simply gone on the dole. The final option is the only one now left open to
him."
What McCarthy means is this: the British economy,
in deep trouble over the past few years, cannot provide employment for its own
population. Irish emigrants, long residents of the great British employment
centers like Birmingham, Liverpool and Manchester, find themselves returning to
the homeland rather than remaining unemployed in England. America, once the
dream goal of the Irish fleeing economic and political oppression, has all but
closed its doors to immigrants.
Ireland must now find ways of offering
opportunities and a share of the good life to its young population who can no
longer cross the seas to newer pastures.
Sister Euphrasia sees the hardships as she visits
the families of her inner-city parish. "Money does not go far for these people
and even little luxuries are out of the question. Inflation has caught up with
them."
"There was a time," says the nun, who was born in
this inner-city area, "when a little went a long ay. Food was always on the
table and coal always in the fire. But now the necessities of life are almost
out of reach. They don't eat as well or as often. Sometimes by midweek the
family is in great need."
Inflation has also taken away the luxuries once a
vital part of Danny O'Brien's life. "A glass of Guinness (the Dublin
working-man's beer) was just a few shillings a short few years ago," remembers
Gerry McCarthy. "Now that same glass in his local pub costs a pound (two
dollars). The darn stuff is cheaper in England, despite the fact we make it
here. And Danny's package of cigarettes has also gone to a pound a pack. This
also places pressure on the working population and the family."
McCarthy might have continued on and said that
inflation has sent other items sky high too. Gasoline starts at almost four
dollars per gallon, the cost of new homes has increased by tenfold in the last
10 years and the costly charges in hotels and restaurants have seriously
damaged the once thriving tourist industry.
Among this tragic list of economic woes, is there
any hope on the horizon for this beautiful and renowned Emerald Isle?
Gerry McCarthy believes the answer for Ireland now
lies in the success of the European Community of Nations. "The Common Market,
over a long and painful haul, is our answer. We have tried other routes. We
have given temporary tax shelters to foreign industries, only to see them leave
us as their shelters expired. We cannot repeat those temporary stopgaps. As
Europe develops, we can establish our partnership with the other nations and
slowly, under God leadership, bring needed industries and employment to our
people."
There are many, like McCarthy, who believe that
much development could take place in Ireland if sufficient capital was
invested. The fisheries, the forestries, oil and gas are all waiting to be
developed and perhaps the growing strength of a united Europe will be the
answer for this island renowned for centuries as a nation of emigrants.
In the meantime, the suffering and the
hopelessness of Danny O'Brien and his family continues. Danny is one of 145,000
men and women who are without work, unable to emigrate and who feel trapped in
conditions that give little hope.
"Danny O'Brien's condition," says Gerry McCarthy,
"reflects the condition of the nation. The government is borrowing money from
other nations to pay for daily necessities. It is one thing to borrow, let's
say, for a summer vacation. But when you must borrow to put milk and bread on
the table, you are in trouble. That's what's happening in Ireland. And just
guess the kind of interest payments we are having to make. It is killing us."
The official government figures bear witness to
McCarthy's complaint. In this tiny island nation of three million people, over
400 million pounds (600 million dollars) was borrowed to operate the national
budget for the first three months of 1982.
Pain is surely there as economically, Ireland, now
an independent nation for 60 years, struggles to take its place alongside the
other nations of the globe.
(Next week: The Church in Ireland)
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