All language subtitles for dev.rise.and.rule.s01e02.1080p.web.h264-cbfm_track3_[eng]

(Archive reporter) We deeply
regret to announce the death

of the former President of
Ireland, Éamon de Valera.

Mr. de Valera was 92.

He was one of the best
men we ever knew.

Great man for Ireland
altogether.

The best statesman in the world.

That's what I have to say about
him.

He was the daddy of all of us.

He'll definitely be missed in
Clare.

Without a shadow of a doubt.

At the time, the passing of
Éamon de Valera

was met with
widespread public sorrow.

But 50 years on, how is this giant
of Irish politics

remembered in the country he did
so much to shape?

A little experiment.

Who has a negative image
of Éamon de Valera?

He was a man defined
by hyper-traditionalism.

He was a man who did not have
enough empathy

for certain groups in Ireland.

A man who rode a wave of
revolution

and then embedded a very
reactive,

conservative state.

He represents Catholic Ireland.

His legacy is felt every day.

He represents the pain and
suffering that I grew up with.

We have seen the rise
of the radical revolutionary,

and now we look at the rule of one
of Ireland's most influential

political figures.

He was absolutely defining
Irishness as something that was

not beholden to the Crown.

We were desperately,
desperately poor.

The economic war had a
devastating impact.

It's a time, still, of embedded
patriarchy.

Churchill offers de Valera
an end to partition.

It's do or die time.

The Magdalene Laundries...

If you said that there was
slavery in de Valera's Ireland,

most people would go "No, look,
that's terrible thing to say,"

but it's just true!

♪ (rousing military music)

In 1932, the British Commonwealth
still claimed

the Free State as a member,

despite Ireland's aspirations
to become a Republic.

Ten years before,
Éamon de Valera had opposed

the peace treaty that ended the
War of Independence

because it kept the Crown in Irish
political life.

It meant that Britain
still had a role.

It meant that Ireland wasn't
completely free

from imperialist trappings.

Now he was back in the saddle,
determined to dismantle the Treaty

and remove all of this
from Irish life.

So, Niamh, throughout de Valera's
career, his main aim is

to establish, to deepen,
to strengthen Irish sovereignty.

And 1932, he's back in power.

This is where the rubber
hits the road.

This is where he gets
to put that into practice.

Yeah, absolutely.

And this is what he does right
from entering power on day one.

He has one objective, and that's
to dismantle the Treaty.

♪ (quiet electronic music)

In a sense, is he defining
Irishness

as the opposite
of Britishness, really?

He was absolutely defining
Irishness as

something that was not beholden
to the Crown of Great Britain

and its empire.

So quite different from,
let's say, the Canadians,

or the Australians, whose
identity was much more malleable

and much more in line with the
Crown.

De Valera was always quite
coherent in his views.

From the very beginning,
he was against the Treaty,

and he spent most of his
political career,

from the '30s onwards,

trying to dismantle that Treaty,
whether it was the Office

of the Governor General,
the Privy Council,

establishing the
Irish Constitution,

and really putting the framework
forward for Ireland

to leave the Commonwealth.

And they seem to regard him as
a bit of an oddball as well,

I mean, one British politician
described him as

"the Spanish onion in the Irish
stew,"

so they had a view of him as
being a bit odd.

Yeah, and I think this partly
comes from

his American connection.

That meant he was
an unknown character.

Since his days in the radical
revolutionary movement

from 1916 onwards,

he's been treated with suspicion
by many British politicians.

They regarded him as
being an extremist.

Mm-hmm! They regarded him as
being impractical.

Mm-hmm! They regarded him
as being a dreamer.

None of that was
actually true, was it?

No, I think he was
quite a pragmatist.

Right from the beginning,
he knew what he wanted,

and he spent his entire political
career trying to achieve that.

He wanted an Ireland that was
free from the Empire,

free from the Crown.

♪ (laid-back music)

The dispute between de Valera
and the British government was

about big issues: sovereignty,
the Treaty,

the sanctity of international
agreements.

It was high politics,
but its effects were felt

immediately right at the
heart of rural Ireland.

(cow moos)

So Micheál, the first thing
de Valera does,

practically, when he gets
into office is he picks a fight.

Yeah, he withholds
these land annuities.

He thought that it was morally,
ethically unjustifiable to be

paying money to compensate

a landlord class who never
should have had the land.

It was the spoils of
colonisation.

And when he withholds the
annuities, the British hit back.

The British hit back immediately.

They put tariffs on Irish
imports.

This was massively injurious to
us.

We were a cattle economy.

The British were buying
our beef on the hoof.

So when the British effectively
closed off their market to us,

this was the biggest of clouds

descending over the Irish
economy.

It disproportionately impacted,
though, the big farmers,

and to a lesser extent, the
smaller farmers.

But it's very critical to be
categorical

about the fact that no farmer
profited from the economic war.

♪ (soft electronic music,
sheep bleating)

De Valera grew up on a
smallholding,

raised by agricultural labourers.

He was used to a certain
standard of living in rural life.

Did that shape his policies?

Oh, he understood how difficult
it was

to make a sustainable life

in rural Ireland for most
farmers.

And I think that certainly
contributed to his zeal,

his determination to do something

for the elevation of smaller
farmers.

A lot of members
of that Nationalist generation

talked about redistributing
the land of Ireland,

and trying to make all farms
of an equitable size.

So de Valera saw, through
the economic war, an opportunity

to reorientate the agricultural
economy so that it was balanced

more in favour of smaller
farmers.

He had this sense that people
would be content

if they had a degree of
well-being, a degree of security.

Now, we know with the benefit
of hindsight that that

simply wasn't practical.

(engine putters)

Lots of criticism of de Valera
nowadays,

and we look back at that time
and the economic war

as a bad stain on his reputation.

And yet, he won a re-election
in 1933, and he stayed in power

for 16 years, so he must have
been doing something right.

De Valera won consecutive
elections from 1932.

He was endorsed again and again.

He might not have been pleasing

all of the people all of the
time,

but he was pleasing a big
proportion of them

most of the time.

If Nobber Agricultural Show in
County Meath is a reminder

of the agrarian aspirations of de
Valera's era,

just over 100 kilometres away
in another Midlands field,

a very different face of modern
Ireland is letting its hair down.

The organisers have been
charitable enough

to allow some historical
biographers

to join the bill, alongside
Fatboy Slim

and Viagra Boys.

♪ (upbeat dance music)

Electric Picnic is one
of Ireland's largest annual events

as flocks of mostly young people
come to worship at the altar

of Chappell Roan and other
major performers.

It's hard to know what Dev would
have made of these scenes,

but in his day, he was partial
to the odd mass gathering himself.

(church bell rings)

♪ (choral music)

The Eucharistic Congress in 1932.

De Valera was a) very devout,

and b) astute enough to know
that it was politically valuable

to be seen in alliance
with the Church.

It was an incredible
display of piety.

Half a million people
crowded into O'Connell Street.

About a quarter of the state's
population attended Mass

in the Phoenix Park.

De Valera, as head of government,
was at the centre of it,

hand in glove with the Church.

♪ (choral music, church bell
ringing)

♪ (upbeat electronic music)

Time and again, polls indicate

that the Electric Picnic
generation

is most exercised by a single
political issue:

housing.

In office after 1932,
Fianna Fáil implemented

some socially progressive
policies.

Tens of thousands of social
houses were built.

Places to live were given to many
members of the working class.

They also had
an industrialisation policy.

They wanted to see
a factory in every town.

The government also introduced
social welfare payments

for many people, particularly in
rural areas.

Definitely at that stage,
Fianna Fáil was left of centre,

was socially progressive,
and that paid off because

Fianna Fáil's support amongst
the working class was boosted.

De Valera's number one political
aim was the restoration

of the Irish language.

It was the Irish language which
had brought him into

the national movement in the first
place,

and he tried to encourage its
use in government departments.

But in the long run,
it would have to be said

that the effort didn't succeed.

When we started this,
Kneecap, and what we do,

rapping in Irish, and we didn't
think it would be possible

to have this many people
interested in what we're doing.

So thank you, go raibh maith
agaibh! (crowd cheers)

De Valera might be pleasantly
surprised to discover

that the new generation is
embracing the language,

inspired less by Mise E?ire,

more by Kneecap and
An Cailín Ciúin.

♪ (electronic beats, cheering)
Are you ready?!

♪ (stately orchestral music)

De Valera's yearning for learning

extended far beyond his love of
the Irish language.

He was always interested in
academia and education.

And his scholarly instincts and
attention to detail

served him well during three long
years

of drafting a new constitution,
a foundational document that would

assert Ireland's sovereignty while
stopping short

of declaring a full republic.

Why doesn't the Constitution

claim Ireland as a republic?

That's a reflection of the fact
that there was a lot more work

to be done if you wanted
to have an all-island republic.

And so there's a tentativeness.

You had to navigate that idea,
and the ideal of a republic

with the simple fact that we
didn't have full independence.

(crowd cheering and clapping)
I mean, at the end of the day,

we were a very small country

with our old dominant imperial
neighbours

still holding a lot of cards.

(Archive reporter) Fifteen years
ago, Britain yielded

to the 26 Catholic counties,

set them up as the Irish Free
State with dominion status.

This year, in its new
constitution,

the free state proclaims all
Ireland

a sovereign and independent
nation.

De Valera's constitution walked
a tightrope on sovereignty.

Article 2 claimed the territory
of the whole island of Ireland,

while Article 3 recognised
that for now, there was no way of

making that aspiration a reality.

Article 2, he lays claim

to the entire territory of the
island. Yes.

How important is the territorial
claim to Northern Nationalists

at that period? Very.

Absolutely very.

And it's a perfectly
legitimate claim.

Still is a perfectly
legitimate claim.

Northern Nationalists wanted
to believe that this would

not last in perpetuity.

Bear in mind, they were now a
tiny minority

in a state that was adamantly

a Protestant state for a
Protestant people,

a Protestant police force,
Protestant laws.

It was a cold house for
Catholics.

(Archive reporter) Far
outnumbered by the 2 million

Free State voters, Ulstermen
bristle at the thought

of becoming a helpless political
minority in the new Republic.

What about the argument that by
making the claim,

and by asserting sovereignty in
the 26 counties,

you make unity less
attractive to Unionists.

It's very hard to know what would
be attractive to Unionists

except the union! (laughs)

Speaking as somebody
who grew up in Northern Ireland.

♪ (woman singing in Irish)

1937, a time still
of embedded patriarchy.

We're only literally one
generation away

from the achievement of suffrage
for women.

There was a Papal encyclical
which said that

"woman is by nature fitted for
home work",

and that would have been the
general view

of society of the time,
and of women at the time.

Men are the protectors of women.

Men are the providers
for women and families.

Women are the nurturers.

And there's a certain
patronising thing in that.

You have these women looking
at the Constitution,

and they see Article 41.2

saying a woman's
place is in the home.

They see Article 45 talking about
the inadequate strength of women.

You can imagine their fear that
the few rights that women

had gained were about to be
completely destroyed.

But it is important to note that
these types of provisions

are seen in many constitutions
across the world at the time.

People sometimes view
the constitution as originally

written as misogynistic.

Is there any truth in that?

It did generate significant
debate.

Gertrude Gaffney, for example,
who was a very popular

journalist in the 1930s, and the
way she put it was that

"de Valera distrusts and dislikes
us as a sex."

De Valera's own childhood...

Many historians have written
about the fact that

his single mother in New York

sent him home to be
raised by his grandmother.

How keenly he felt the loss
of his mother in his life...

He cherished this idea
of the family,

so he wanted to enshrine
that the mother would be at home

looking after the children
in the Constitution itself.

(Archive reporter)
History is made in Dublin.

To mark the inauguration of the
new Constitution

throughout Éire, formerly the
Irish Free State,

Dr. Byrne, Archbishop of Dublin,
enters the Pro-Cathedral

for the Votive Mass.

And escorted by cavalry,
the new Taoiseach, Mr. de Valera,

arrives by car.

93.4% of Southern Ireland was
Catholic in 1936.

But at the same time,
de Valera wanted to build

a constitution that could command
common allegiance,

and that included those
members of religious minorities.

Even though we think
of the constitution as...

you know, a very Catholic
constitution,

when it was published, it was
praised by the other religions.

It was praised by the
Protestant groups.

It was praised
by the Jewish groups.

It was the conservative Catholic
side who criticised it

for being too liberal.

(Mary McAleese) There was no
state religion.

The English still today have
a state religion,

the Church of England.

He did not create
a confessional state.

And certainly, the Vatican would
have expected it,

but didn't get it.

And I think that shows

a breadth of thought in de Valera
as a leader.

At that time, it was
a remarkable thing, actually.

♪ (sinister music,
crowd cheering)

You can see the rise of the Nazis
actually had an effect

on our own Constitution.
(Laura Cahillane) Definitely!

We do have to give quite
a lot of credit to de Valera.

When you think about it, in 1936,

de Valera was in the position of
a dictator.

He could do almost
anything he wanted.

And what he did do was to create
a liberal democratic constitution

where the people were
placed at the centre.

There's no such thing as
a perfect constitution.

But I think the focus
on fundamental rights,

on personal rights, means
that the constitution can be seen

as a very significant
human rights document.

And given what was happening
internationally in the 1930s,

this is clearly a constitution
for a democracy.

There's never going to be an
Adolf Hitler

in Áras an Uachtaráin.

There's never going to be a
Donald Trump

in Áras an Uachtaráin.

Sorry, God, but there's not.

Why? Because they will never,
ever

have that highway of freedom

that you associate
with dictatorial powers.

Because the Constitution made
darn sure they wouldn't have it.

(photographer) One, two, three!

(cheering)

In 1938 de Valera headed to London

hoping to bridge the divide
between

the neighbouring Islands.

(Announcement)
Please mind the gap

between the train and the
platform.

Stepping into an arena where
generations

of Irish and British leaders

cemented their legacy, for better
or for worse.

You won't find a statue of

British Prime Minister
Neville Chamberlain here.

His policy of appeasing
Adolf Hitler

to try to avoid war is seen as a
failure.

But his openness to compromise
meant that he was the man

who kept Ireland out of
World War II.

De Valera wanted to change a key
provision of

the 1921 Treaty, which had left
Britain

in control of three key naval
bases in Ireland:

Lough Swilly, Berehaven,
and Cobh.

If sovereignty was to be made
real,

if neutrality was to be made
possible,

he had to get control of the
Treaty ports.

So 1938, Dev goes across to
London.

He's looking for the ports back.

How does that all work out for
him?

Chamberlain was hoping that there
would be

an Anglo-Irish defence
co-operation agreement

negotiated, but de Valera
is having none of it.

And then it turns out
that the British are willing to

give the ports back unilaterally.

♪ (quiet electronic music)

(wings flapping)

British defence planners
estimated that in the 1930s,

it would cost something like
a million pounds sterling

at the time, and that's the
equivalent now

of half a billion pounds, to get
the ports back in running order.

Chamberlain then says "Okay,
if we're going to give you

the ports back, we're going to
have to get something

from you in return."

And so there's changes
to the financial agreement,

changes to the payments made
on land annuities,

and the deal is done that way.

But that's what happens.

The ports are simply given back,
and I think then the Irish

get a shock, and that they
realise

it's gonna cost us a million
pounds a year

to keep these in running order.

But okay, at least
we get them back.

So this, diplomatically,
this is a triumph.

How much of that is down to
de Valera, and how much of it

is down to luck?
I think it's timing.

De Valera is always good on
timing.

I think it's also down to
personal chemistry,

that de Valera and Chamberlain
got on.

And there was a dynamic there.

They trusted each other.

De Valera would say "Well,

you know, I see what you're
getting at,

but I've got to deal with, you
know, the backwoods men at home."

So there's a very interesting
power play goes on there between

Dublin and London at all levels.

De Valera's primary objective

is hoping to get an end to
partition.

Revising the Treaty out of
existence is always a part plan

towards the one end goal,
and that's a united Ireland.

A substantial element of the
Treaty,

which the British had insisted
on at pain of war in 1921

had now been removed.

And as the clouds of war gathered
once again over Europe,

de Valera had made neutrality
possible.

(explosion)

♪ (dramatic music)

World War II erupted as Nazi
forces rampaged across Europe.

Britain now came under the command
of Winston Churchill,

a man who spent his early
childhood in Ireland,

but who later recruited
the Black and Tans

and then signed the
Anglo-Irish Treaty.

Stopping Hitler now depended on
him.

(crowd cheering)

♪ (quiet electronic music)

While Britain bunkered down
against the Luftwaffe assaults,

Churchill's bulldog
spirit rallied the people.

From underground command centres,
he plotted a route to victory,

one he felt would require
his closest neighbour's help.

De Valera was determined
to keep Ireland neutral.

The question was whether Britain
would let him get away with it.

So June 1940, Churchill
makes a really big offer.

What does he offer and why?

Churchill offers de Valera an end
to partition in exchange

for all of Ireland entering
the Second World War.

Essentially, that's
what's on the table.

And he offers this because
Britain is in a really

difficult position in 1940.

Much of Western Europe
has been overrun.

It's do or die time.

So why does de Valera say no?

First of all,
he doesn't trust the British.

He's also very much aware
that Germany is on the verge

of winning this war.

If there is Unionist resistance
to this,

the island could descend into
civil war.

So he doesn't really feel
Britain's going to deliver,

or can deliver. But it's actually
a misreading of the situation.

Britain at this point
is in dire straits.

For de Valera,
this is really a a key part

of being an independent country.

He really believes this is
essential for sovereignty.

He now feels that Ireland can
have

its own independent foreign
policy,

and by being neutral,
that is what it is doing.

It's also key to making
a point about partition.

As far as he's concerned,
while Ireland is partitioned,

it can't possibly support the
country that is partitioning,

as he sees it, the island.

(Archive reporter) Among the
small nations of Western Europe,

there are very few which have so
far avoided

being drawn into the maelstrom of
war.

Ireland, the romantic green isle
of the West, is still at peace,

but she has no illusions as
to the security of her position.

(gunfire)

Since last September,

she has kept her small but
efficient army

in a state of constant readiness.

(planes zooming)

If Hitler tries to strike that
way, he'll find Éire ready.

No Nobody is more annoyed about
Irish neutrality

than Winston Churchill.

Churchill's also angered
by de Valera's sort of

very purist view of neutrality.

In 1939, many
countries are neutral.

By 1940, Germany has conquered
an awful lot of them.

Churchill also sees, in some
ways,

Ireland as part of the British
world.

And that's a huge issue
for de Valera,

who does not see things in the
same way,

and obviously views Ireland as

an independent actor
on the global stage.

♪ (dramatic music)

(Archive reporter) Overhead, Jap
raiders are on the loose.

Hawaii's bright Sunday
becomes a black Sunday.

Without warning, they circle
Pearl Harbour

in the city of Honolulu.

A surprise attack, born of
infamy.

We will gain
the inevitable triumph,

so help us God.

The American ambassador in
Dublin, David Gray,

believed that with America
in the war, it was Ireland's duty

to really support
the United States,

which has supported it in many
ways in the War of Independence.

De Valera refuses,
which is very popular in Ireland,

not very popular
in Washington or London.

De Valera wins two wartime
elections,

and that is a clear democratic
mandate

for his position of keeping
Ireland out of the war.

But it is not a realpolitik
stance,

and it brings him a lot of odium
in the United States.

And then he puts the tin
hat on it after Hitler dies!

De Valera pays a visit
of condolences

to the German representative in
Dublin,

Edward Hempel.

And basically, de Valera's
position on this

was that Herr Hempel had always
been well-mannered,

polite, been an excellent
diplomat,

in contrast to the American
ambassador, David Gray.

And for that reason, de Valera
felt he was honour-bound

to pay condolences
on the death of Hitler.

This is a colossal mistake.

This is to go and honour a man

who has committed global
atrocities

and has brought the world
to rack and ruin.

(flames crackling)

He went to express the condolences
of the Irish people

at the death of Adolf Hitler.

It sounds mad when
you say it out loud.

His officials pleaded
with him not to do it.

Once he'd set his mind on
something,

nobody was going to persuade him
not to do it.

He really wanted to show that his
neutrality was principled.

It may have been the correct thing
to do in strict diplomatic usage,

but it wasn't a very wise thing to
do.

And it was only after he'd done it
that he had the idea,

"Well, maybe we should check what
other neutrals have done."

The truth about what had happened

in the concentration camps was
being revealed.

Even in the Irish papers.

It can't really be excused.

(crowd cheering)

(Archive reporter) This was the
British people's finest day,

VE Day, the end of the German
war.

(chanting) We want the King!
We want the King!

The unbridled joy of victory
in Europe was a marked contrast

to the barrage of criticism
shipped by de Valera

just a few days earlier,

But a chance of redemption was
about to arrive

from the most unlikely source.

Flushed with victory,
Churchill took to the balcony

of Buckingham Palace and then took
to the airwaves

to settle a few scores.

De Valera took a while.
He took a couple of days.

He thought long and hard about how
he should reply to this,

and he delivered a very dignified,
a very restrained reply.

De Valera made the point that
while Britain was rightly proud

of the fact that it had stood
alone for a year and a half,

Ireland had stood
alone for 800 years.

♪ (quiet electronic music)

(Archive reporter) The Free State
is becoming

more and more air-minded.

Latest city to build
a great airport is Dublin.

And at Collinstown, just 6 miles
north of the city centre,

700 acres are being developed as
one of the world's

most modern termini.

There were some hopeful signs
of modernity

in de Valera's Ireland,
and having avoided war damage,

the Irish economy should
have been ready to soar.

Instead, progress stalled.

In the 14 post-war years,
de Valera was either Taoiseach

or leader of the opposition.

A commanding political presence,
while economic failure seemed

to threaten the very
future of the state.

It was a time of economic
stagnation,

a time when two out of every five
people

born in the state were destined
to leave it.

(plane engine)

The overwhelming reality

of the Ireland I was born
into in the late 1950s was

that people were leaving it in
droves,

young people in particular.

Between 1931 and 1941,
40% of everybody born in Ireland

during those 10 years
was gone by 1961.

♪ (quiet electronic music,
plane engine)

In de Valera's mind,

you could sort of seal Ireland
off

and people would be contented
with their frugal comforts.

But of course, this was irony,
the place was one of the least

sealed off places in the world.

It was intensely globalised
because of mass emigration.

(plane engine)

The person who was living on 30
acres in the West of Ireland also

had a cousin who who had a nice
house in Queens,

who had a fridge,
(laughing) you know?

Who had a basement!
Who had a car!

People actually did want to have
those kinds of opportunities.

We didn't want to be, you know,

knitting socks
in the Aran Islands.

(bird squawks)

All during the period when
de Valera was in power,

there was no suggestion

that Irish kids would have a
right

to a second level education.

So there was this kind of double
shame of not just emigration,

but emigration without
opportunity, without skill.

And de Valera is really
culpable for that.

It just never seemed to occur
to him that this is not

what freedom and independence
and dignity should look like.

(radio static)

♪ (smooth jazz music)

As the 1960s began, de Valera
recognised that

Ireland was in a state of flux.

As the birth of Teilifís Éireann
was celebrated

in the Gresham Hotel, he voiced
his fears for the future.

(applause)

Sometimes when I think
of television and radio

and their immense power,
I feel somewhat afraid.

Like atomic energy,

it can be used for incalculable
good,

but it can also do irreparable
harm.

It could be like an atomic bomb,

that could destroy everything,
or it could be used for good.

But you really felt that his
heart was in the idea that...

that this could destroy
everything.

There was this kind of veto
on what was acceptable.

And this fed into emigration.
You know, I mean,

people left for economic reasons
and social reasons, of course,

but a lot of people were just
kind of fed up

with the fact that the place was

inward-looking, controlling,
dull...

And de Valera had come to embody
that for very many people,

rightly or wrongly.

♪ (electronic music)

Nothing symbolised the new
Ireland more than Aer Lingus.

And yet at the same time,
it was still connected

with the traditional Ireland,
de Valera's Ireland,

still very much connected
with Catholicism, with the Church.

Aer Lingus' planes were
all named after saints.

They were blessed every year.

In fact, one of the main
money-spinners

of the new airline was organising
pilgrimages to Lourdes.

(Archive announcer)
At Dublin's airport,

Irish pilgrims board a Skymaster
airliner.

(crowd cheering)

They go, the quick and the lame,
with a single thought.

From the Archbishop of Dublin
and Primate of Ireland,

the most Reverend Dr. McQuaid,
to children in arms,

all seek spiritual refreshment
at the sacred place.

In the late 1950s,
Ireland started to open up,

started to make the economic
progress that had been

delayed for so long.

And yet the traditional society,
traditional deference

to the Church, remained.

The Church really
had this dominant position over

pretty much everything that
happens

in relation to anything to do
with women,

anything to do with children,

anything to do with education,
anything to do with sexuality.

All of those kinds of things were
completely controlled

in de Valera's Ireland.

On occasion, de Valera could have
arguments with the hierarchy.

He had plenty of arguments
with John Charles McQuaid,

which people probably don't give
him credit for, but... overall,

he saw the relationship
as a very close one.

I think he was very comfortable
with this kind fusion

of Catholicism and Nationalism

as the identity which he wanted
to hold on to.

Every aspect of people's lives
was absolutely bound up

with Catholicism, but it had
this very, very dark side.

It was this totalising
kind of system.

And in order to maintain
that totality of Irish goodness

and Irish Catholicism, you know,
you needed to punish

and eliminate the people who
didn't fit in.

And of course, that created this
huge archipelago of repression.

♪ (sombre music)

We had the industrial schools,
which were horrific institutions.

We had the mother and baby homes,
which we know left

very, very, very deep scars on so
many people.

The Magdalene Laundries,
which were effectively

institutions of slavery.

And these things were not secret.

No doubt that de Valera
knew all about it.

There's no doubt that, even when
the system was challenged,

he did absolutely nothing.

It was sort of understood to be
the price that was to be paid

to maintain our reputation as
being holy Catholic Ireland.

Keeping Ireland as this spiritual
beacon,

that mattered to him a lot more

than the actual economic life
of the vast majority of citizens.

You have to understand de Valera
against

the backdrop of centuries of
abuse of the Irish,

as being wild.

(applause)

He did to have this sort of
priestly feel to him.

He wasn't charismatic in our
terms,

but actually the austerity
and the dignity,

they were all working against

the stereotypes of what an Irish
person was supposed to be like.

And I think that meant an awful
lot to those Irish people

who did admire him.

They saw him as kinda
standing up for them.

De Valera had created this aura
around himself,

where he sort of embodied,

for an awful lot of people,
the idea of the country.

In 1959, de Valera finally
accepted

that it was time to let go of the
levers of power.

Luckily, there was a suitably
attractive alternative

to the Taoiseach's office.

In those days, the role
of President was very different.

It was much less active, which
suited Éamon de Valera just fine.

He served with considerable
distinction

as the symbolic representation

of the nation, a figurehead with
a purely ceremonial role.

Most people who have a memory
of Éamon de Valera, nowadays,

will remember him as a President
sitting in splendid isolation

in Áras an Uachtaráin.

He was, in effect,
blind when he came to the Áras.

From the mid 1950s on, he had to
memorise all his speeches,

and certainly that would
have been the case

when he was President, but

his family say he never
expressed any self-pity about it.

He just got on with it.
It was one of the burdens

with which he had to live.

De Valera had been physically
quite active as a younger man,

but obviously in his 80s,
he was slowing up a bit.

So his doctors wanted him to take
a walk every day in the grounds

of Áras an Uachtaráin,
but he used to refuse to go out

for a stroll until his secretary
gave him a maths problem

that he could think about and
solve as he was wandering around

the paths in the gardens.

De Valera faced
re-election in 1966.

His opponent was Tom O'Higgins,
nephew of Kevin O'Higgins, who,

of course, had been assassinated
by Republicans in 1927.

And he actually gave de Valera
a really good run for his money.

Now, the election took place
in the autumn of 1966.

♪ (stirring orchestral music,
plane engines zooming)

(Archive reporter)
WB Yeats immortalised

the 1916 Easter Rising in
Dublin.

Fifty years later,
many hundreds of veterans recall

the bitter struggle to bring
Ireland out of her dark centuries

of poverty and deprivation.

Among them, President de Valera,
the sole surviving

commandant of the rebellion.

♪ (electronic music)

50th anniversary of the Rising,

there were events
all over the country.

De Valera was invited
to all of them.

So what you in effect had was a
pretty one-sided media portrayal

of President de Valera,
the embodiment of the nation,

and the veteran of 1916,
and in comparison,

very little coverage given to Tom
O'Higgins.

The thing is, when it came down
to the election,

O'Higgins came within 10,000
votes.

There was a change in society,
which I think is reflected

in the fact that de Valera
came so close to being defeated.

(voice through megaphone)
We are demanding homes,

employment, freedom of speech,

and freedom of assembly.

We do not wish
bloodshed or violence.

♪ (dramatic music,
crowd shouting)

(woman screaming)

In the late 1960s,
the struggle for civil rights

on the part of Northern Catholics
was literally

beaten off the streets by the
RUC, by the B-Specials,

and by various loyalists thugs.

And the pressure for reform within
the Northern state seemed

to meeting an immovable obstacle.

And then the situation
deteriorated.

(click)
The rise of the Provisional IRA,

which was pursuing a militant,
violent strategy

to secure reunification.

(explosion)

De Valera didn't shy away
from the use of force.

Obviously enough,
he fought in the rising,

he supported the use of force
in the War of Independence

and in the Civil War.

But as he got older, I suppose
his attitude changed a bit.

And in government, he had no
problem in crushing the IRA.

He used Cosgrave's public order
legislation

against the IRA in the 1930s.

He executed IRA men during
the Second World War,

and his government crushed the
IRA's border campaign

in the 1950s.

So he had absolutely no sympathy
with the use of armed force

by Republicans.

We deplore sectarianism

and intolerance in all their
forms, wherever they occur.

The government have been very
patient and have acted with

great restraint over several
months past.

One of his primary aims was
the reunification of Ireland,

and that was embedded
in the DNA of Fianna Fáil.

So when the Troubles broke out,

it caused a real crisis of
conscience

between those who wanted to
intervene,

wanted to help arm
Northern Nationalists

to defend themselves,
and those led by Jack Lynch,

the Taoiseach, who felt that any
kind of intervention

in Northern Ireland

would make the situation there
worse,

and could lead to the spillover of
violence across the border.

As President, de Valera couldn't
go on the public record,

but Des O'Malley,
the Minister of Justice,

used to come up to brief him in
Áras an Uachtaráin,

and de Valera made it quite clear
to Fianna Fáil members

in no uncertain terms,

"I am your founding father
and I support your Taoiseach."

De Valera intervened in politics
during the arms crisis,

not because it was about the
North,

or about Northern Nationalists, or
about the Troubles,

but because it was about the
unity of Fianna Fáil.

♪ (tense music)

When he was in the presidency,
he had a lot more time

to spend with family.

Éamon and Sinéad's love affair,
sparked in Conradh na Gaeilge

still burned brightly 60 years
later

as they entered old age together.

All of de Valera's grandchildren
have very fond memories

of his time in Áras an Uachtaráin.

He had time to spend with them.

He liked to hear them
chatting and playing games.

He used to help them
with their maths homework.

He was a very doting grandfather,
and some would say not just

to his family, but to the nation.

(Archive reporter) After 14 years
as President

of the Irish Republic,

and 27 years as Prime Minister,

President Éamon de Valera
retires.

♪ (sweeping orchestral music)

His final departure
from the political stage was

the end of an era,

and arguably the birth moment of
modern Ireland.

(crowd cheering)

(Archive reporter)
..the President to recall some of

the happiest moments of your
years.

Would you be able to answer it?
The happiest moments?

Yes.

I've had very many happy
moments in my life.

I've had some sad ones.

♪ (organ music)

He started life as an outsider,
but in the end,

Éamon de Valera did more than
anyone else to set the terms

of Irishness in the 20th century.

Over his long life,

he made a truly memorable mark on
Irish history.

But back in his birthplace,

time hasn't been so kind to his
reputation.

Here in New York,
he was once so famous

there was a plaque marking the
spot he was born

on the corner behind me.

That plaque was taken down during
renovations a few years ago

and never replaced.

He is forgotten
in the city of his birth.

But how is he remembered now

in the nation he did so much to
shape?

(applause)

A little experiment.

Who has a positive image
of Éamon de Valera?

De Valera certainly
gets

a bad press. There's no doubt
about that, but

perhaps anniversaries like this

will give the opportunity
to balance the books.

Who has a negative image
of Éamon de Valera?

I would have a profoundly
negative view

(laughing) of Éamon de Valera,
I think.

A man who rode a wave of
revolution,

and then embedded a very
reactive,

conservative state.

If the defence is he was
a misogynist,

I'm sure they were all
misogynists.

I don't really accept that,

because women were given suffrage
in 1922.

So there was obviously an idea
and a hope,

and that was torn away very
quickly, but it was there.

At one point in my research,
I invited people on social media

to share the first word that
sprang to their mind

at the mention of de Valera's
Ireland.

The most mentioned word was
"Catholic",

followed by "repression",

"conservative", "misogynistic",
"patriarchy", and "backward".

Also getting... People say
"Did you feel very repressed?"

Well, actually,
I personally didn't.

And I think it's a great,
great irony that today

so many women are forced,

they would rather be at home,
maybe with their new babies,

but they're forced to go out to
work

to pay a mortgage or the rent.

A lot of people would be in dire
poverty

if only one person worked.

So I think in that sense,
Dev was actually right.

You can't blame him for the price
of houses,

(laughs) no matter what we say
about him.

Mr. Churchill is proud
of Britain's stand alone,

after France had fallen and
before America entered the war.

Could he not find in his heart
the generosity to acknowledge

that there is a small nation who
stood alone not for one year,

or two, but for several hundred
years

against aggression,
who endured spoliations,

famines, massacres,
in endless succession,

who was clubbed into
insensibility

time and time again,

but that each time upon returning
consciousness,

took up the fight anew.

A small nation that could never
be got to accept defeat

and who never surrendered her
soul.

His willingness to serve Ireland,

to serve the Irish nation,

and wanting Ireland to be a
society where there is

religious liberties,
civil liberties for everybody.

I think those are the positive
things that I look at.

Leadership is not about
making people happy.

It's about making tough decisions

for the betterment of the
society.

If you want to make people
happy, sell ice cream.

Whenever anything awful is exposed
in this country,

it will be described as
an example of de Valera's Ireland.

He presided over
a fairly cold society.

It's hard to look past things
like the Magdalene Laundries

and mother and baby homes.

But even in the educational
institutions,

the Catholic Church's dogma was

so powerful in society at the
time.

I think my generation would see
him

in an overwhelmingly negative
light.

And of course, assessments of
de Valera

do tend to go to one extreme or
another,

to either treat him as a demi-god
or as the devil incarnate.

The roots of the problems we are
coping with now,

in terms of the history of
tribunals

and all the various controversies
around the Church.

What happened in the era of de
Valera,

we're still living in the shadow
of it.

Between hagiography and hatchet
job, where lies the history?

I hope that we've helped to
provide a more balanced picture.

Thank you and good night.

(applause)

♪ (calm piano music)

Nobody would claim that de Valera
was solely responsible

for Irish independence, but he did
make a huge contribution

to ensuring that Irish people were
able to choose their own path,

able to make their own decisions,
able to shape their state

as they wished.

I hereby solemnly declare....

(Crowd) I hereby solemnly
declare...

..my fidelity to the Irish
nation...

..my fidelity to the Irish
nation...

..and to respect its
democratic values.

..and to respect its
democratic values.

Congratulations, you are
now all Irish citizens.

(applause and cheering)

It's 140 years since
Éamon de Valera

came to Ireland as a child .

Yay!

Today, the country would be
unrecognisable to him.

It's rich, largely secular,

far more diverse than it was in
his time.

But he would appreciate the value
which is placed on citizenship...

The importance of the sovereignty
which was won by his generation.

Perhaps that is his lasting
legacy.

We are Irish! Yay!

Subtitles: RTÉ 2025