The Politics of Pluralism: Historians and Easter 2016

Abstract

The Politics of Pluralism:Historians and Easter 2016* Fearghal McGarry (bio) What historian of revolutionary Ireland can claim to have remained utterly impervious to seduction during the current orgy of centennial commemoration? The study of how distant events have been remembered is suddenly both popular and profitable, offering almost irresistible attractions. … The hard questions of history (what actually happened and who thought what, why, and with what consequences) are neatly avoided. Released from tiresome delving into the distant past, historians easily mutate into columnists and pundits, accorded spurious authority because of their past credentials as scholars. —david fitzpatrick1 Historians should not be cultural critics or advisors. Their job is to write history and to critique the work of fellow historians. —nicholas canny2 In Ireland—and far beyond—the centenary of the Easter Rising in 2016 was hailed as "an extraordinary success."3 Remembering the Rising may have meant little more than a good day out for many, but broad participation from the arts-and-heritage sectors, academics, and local communities ensured a vibrant program of events that commemorated the rebellion from almost every conceivable angle. Its success was in part a result of the Irish government's innovative [End Page 25] commemorative program, but it was also driven by popular enthusiasm. Some 250,000 people observed the formal ceremony outside the General Post Office (GPO) on Easter Sunday, while a remarkable 750,000 participants attended Reflecting the Rising, Ireland's largest-ever public history festival, on the following day. Aside from its popularity, the most striking aspect of the centenary was its pluralism, which foregrounded previously overlooked perspectives such as the role of women.4 The Irish Times praised the government's program for transcending the narrow nationalism that it associated with previous anniversaries: Those men and women in the uniform of our army marching yesterday were much more than a romantic gesture to the past or nod to the dead generations—they are an assertion of sovereignty, of maturity, and success as a state despite the difficult times. Independent. Democratic. Tolerant. European. Of many faiths and none. Most importantly, a state in which our multiple identities are interwoven. … One stream, the physical-force tradition, is inextricably associated with 1916. But it is, and was, only an element, and very much a minority element, whose importance is not in this commemoration of one week in a decade of revolution being privileged.5 There was broad media consensus that the Irish state had successfully reframed the legacy of Easter 1916. The Irish Times columnist Miriam Lord noted the government's success not merely in engaging the public but also in navigating the treacherous minefield that is commemoration of republican violence: "It was truly a great day for Ireland; a great day to be Irish. … [Y]esterday's dignified and uplifting commemoration confounded the cynics. In its tone and execution it hit all the right notes."6 Similarly, press coverage of Reflecting the Rising also emphasized the festival's popularity and its pluralism: The Rising was recalled by way of readings, lectures, debates, theatre, film, dance, exhibitions, concerts, and reenactments. … Perhaps most significant of all were the spoken words which underlined our new-found ability to challenge views of history and yet accept there [End Page 26] is more than one definition of Irish freedom. … The contrast with the inevitably narrower focus of 1966 is marked. … It was clear on this anniversary the approach to the Rising was one of inclusivity with the application of what the president [Michael D. Higgins] cited as "ethical sensitivity."7 In a feature headlined "Peaceful Path to Marking 1916 Easter Rising," the New York Times identified the Necrology Wall—a new memorial at Glasnevin cemetery inscribed with the names of 488 of the rebellion's fatalities regardless of their status as rebels, Crown forces, or civilians—as epitomizing this sensitive engagement with a contested past.8 The Irish state, it seemed, had finally cracked the problem of how to remember its violent origins without alienating those (including among its own elite) who did not identify with the "physical-force" republican tradition. A new commemorative mode, identified with emollient terminology such as "shared...