a source of inspiration and encouragement and for this I owe him a great debt of gratitude.
My wife, Miriam, has been the constant support in the writing of this book and, indeed, in all my endeavours. Without her unfailing support and encouragement, it simply would never have seen the light of day. On a practical level, she proofread the various drafts and made many worthwhile suggestions. In readily and happily acknowledging her vital support, I dedicate this book to her, with all my love and gratitude.
Finally, any errors or deficiencies in this book are entirely my responsibility.
Eugene Broderick, Waterford, March 2017
INTRODUCTION
On 29 December 1937, Ireland celebrated Constitution Day, the day on which the country’s new fundamental law, Bunreacht na hÉireann, came into operation. To mark the occasion the government organised a rare, if modest, display of ceremonial.1 The national flag was flown on all public buildings throughout the country. In Dublin, at 9.30am, a twenty-one-gun salute was fired at the Royal Hospital, Kilmainham. In all military barracks, garrisons assembled at this time. Reveille was sounded and the tricolour raised. A feu de joie was fired, the national anthem played and soldiers attended mass. At 9.40am, in Dublin, Éamon de Valera, now styled ‘Taoiseach’ under the Constitution, and his ministers assembled at Government Buildings and were driven, with an escort of mounted cavalry, to the Pro-Cathedral for a solemn votive mass. Services were also held by other religious denominations – the Church of Ireland, Quakers and Jews. On his return to Government Buildings de Valera greeted the Chief Justice, Timothy O’Sullivan, who made and subscribed to the declaration as required of every judge under the Constitution. On his return to the Four Courts, the Chief Justice witnessed the declaration of the President of the High Court. At 12.40 pm, the Presidential Commission, one of the new constitutional organs of state, met at Dublin Castle. It discharged a number of functions, as required, pending the election of a President of Ireland in 1938. In honour of the day, the post office issued a special commemorative stamp. That evening de Valera made a radio address to the people of the state.
Among the congregation in the Pro-Cathedral on that day was a 44-year-old, slightly built civil servant, John Joseph Hearne, legal adviser at the Department of External Affairs. Unknown to most of those in attendance, he had played a very significant role in the making of Bunreacht na hÉireann. This fact was acknowledged by de Valera; in a copy of the document presented to Hearne, the Taoiseach wrote the following dedication in his own hand:
To Mr John Hearne, Barrister at Law, Legal Adviser to the Department of External Affairs, Architect in Chief and Draftsman of this Constitution, as a souvenir of the successful issue of his work and in testimony of the fundamental part he took in framing this, the first free Constitution of the Irish People.
Éamon de Valera
Constitution Day 29 XII 19372
Beyond a small number of politicians and senior civil servants, Hearne’s role remained unacknowledged and unrecognised for decades by a wider public. This was in keeping with the practice of the civil service which was regarded by its members and politicians as an ‘anonymous corps’,3 charged with meeting the needs and demands of ministers, behind a wall of secrecy and discretion. Civil servants were expected to work under cover of anonymity, preserving traditional boundaries that existed between them, the government and the public. The state’s administrative system was founded on the belief that a transgression of this principle would undermine ministerial prerogative and responsibility.4 Nearly thirty years after the introduction of Bunreacht na hÉireann, in December 1965, the Taoiseach, Seán Lemass, was asked by Deputy Patrick Harte to name those who in any way assisted in the drawing up of the Constitution. In his reply Lemass stated that ‘it would be contrary to the civil service tradition of anonymity to disclose the names of civil servants who were engaged in the drafting work’.5
A consequence of the general ignorance of the role of Hearne and other civil servants in the making of Bunreacht na hÉireann was that its production was attributed to de Valera alone. There was a clichéd image of him drafting it in long hand.6 A sense of this was conveyed by his son, Terry:
I have recollections of him in his study as he worked on the draft, but his eyesight continued to cause him trouble. He would only write by using a pen with a very large nib, which meant that vast amounts of paper often overflowed from his desk onto the floor. One day I remember going into his study, where I was warned not to walk on the many sheets of paper which were scattered on the floor. In time I believe these drafts were destroyed, but I often think it would have been interesting to see those portions of the new Constitution which were rejected or otherwise as first drafted.7
In a book published in 1973, the distinguished historian F.S.L. Lyons wrote: ‘The Constitution was a remarkable document – remarkable for what it contained and for what it omitted, remarkable still more because, as we now know, it was very largely the work of one man, Mr de Valera himself.’8
De Valera did not disabuse people of this notion. As head of the government which proposed the Constitution, he accepted and endorsed the view that the role of civil servants was an anonymous one. He was also happy to bask in the glory of his perceived constitution-making prowess. He informed the British Ambassador to Ireland, Sir Andrew Gilchrist, at a meeting on 27 February 1967: ‘Of course, I wrote most of the Constitution myself.’9 The acceptance of this fact among his more ardent followers contributed to his mystique and charisma. A charismatic leader is someone who is credited with having achieved seemingly impossible tasks and who, in the eyes of his followers, possesses qualities which mark him not just as rare or exceptional, but almost superhuman. ‘The vital dimensions of real charisma are not, therefore, necessarily attributes of the leader but, rather, qualities he is believed to possess by his followers who place a blind trust in him.’10 The complexities of constitution-making rank as a skill of the highest order and were probably akin to de Valera’s supposed prowess in mathematics. This prowess was, according to admirers, awe-inspiring to the point of being disconcerting.11
In 1970, two official biographies of de Valera, in English and Irish, were published. Both of them contained what was probably his first public acknowledgement of Hearne’s role in the process which led to the 1937 Constitution. Interestingly, there is a marked difference in the description of this role between the two publications. In the English version there is a reference to Hearne by name and this is in relation to his preparation of draft heads for a new constitution in 1935.12 In a second reference he is unnamed. This reference concerned the appointment, in 1936, of two civil servants to a commission to consider the functions and composition of a Senate, if one were established under a new constitution. The two, Hearne and John (Seán) Moynihan (secretary to the Executive Council) were, according to the English biography, ‘intimately associated with the drafting of the proposed constitution’.13 In the Irish biography, Hearne’s role is given a much more expansive treatment. He is named ten times and there are at least five references in which he is clearly identified, but not named. In the matter of the Senate commission, Hearne and Moynihan are named, with the added comment (as in the English version) that they were both very closely involved (‘baint an-dlúth acusan araon’) in the drafting of the Constitution.14 It should be noted that the English biography was much more widely read and more readily available.
A year before the appearance of the biographies, John Hearne died, on 29 March 1969. His obituary in the Irish Times referred to the fact that he was ‘prominent’ in the drafting of the Constitution,15 while the Irish Independent noted his ‘big part’ in its preparation.16 It was not until the pioneering research of Professor Dermot Keogh that there was a greater knowledge and appreciation of this role. In a book published in 1986, writing about Bunreacht na hÉireann, he stated that ‘the central figure in the process was unquestionably John Hearne,
