substantial number of Protestants treated by the Mater.169 Progress on the issue was impeded by backbench opposition – championed in the Cabinet by Faulkner – to public funding for a Catholic institution. In January 1967, following much manoeuvring, the party conceded in principle state aid for the hospital. This was conditional upon the government reaching an agreement with the hierarchy of the Catholic Church about protection for the Mater’s religious character.170 Mutual suspicion, however, ensured that almost two years later these negotiations had yet to be concluded.171
The bishops appear to have entertained even greater doubts about the motives underlying Stormont’s October 1967 White Paper on education. The Bill offered Catholic schools ‘maintained’ status: increased grants in exchange for Local Education Authority (LEA) nominees sitting on the management committee. The Bishop of Down and Connor almost immediately accused the government of ‘taking advantage of our grave financial need’ to ‘introduce representatives’ of bodies whose ‘attitude’ to ‘Catholic interests [in many cases] is so notorious that we can only regard with dismay their direct involvement’. At a later stage, ‘a mere alteration in the proportion of representation could turn the position into one of complete control by non-Catholic and indeed anti-Catholic forces’. By contrast, the Nationalist Party and the teaching unions cautiously welcomed the proposals.172 Such feelings proved sufficiently wide-spread within the community to encourage the hierarchy to seek a compromise. In May 1968, the bishops agreed to a model scheme whereby teachers would be appointed by the school committee subject to the requirements of the Ministry. Other staff would be employed by the LEA after consultation.173 During the Bill’s second reading, the Education Minister had reassured the hierarchy that ‘this was not a deep-laid plot to take over the voluntary schools’.174 In the privacy of the Cabinet, however, he described ‘what he proposed … as a useful first step towards breaking clerical control’.175
The government’s response to a paper on citizens’ rights presented by the NILP and the trade unions also confirms the Catholic conspiracy theory. This memorandum stated that ‘the time is overdue … for the Prime Minister … to give an earnest of his liberalism and enlightenment by the acceptance of the basic principle that equal citizenship should confer equal civic rights in every part of the United Kingdom’. In practice, this entailed bringing electoral law into line with Britain, fair representation for minority groups on public bodies, measures to diminish discrimination in employment and in the allocation of public housing, the appointment of an ombudsman, and reform of the existing trade union legislation.176 A few years later, this would have been a moderate reform package. In October 1966, however, the Unionist Cabinet regarded most of the proposed changes as a threat to the party’s dominance.
Attorney-General Teddy Jones, who had long acted as a lobbyist for the interests of Londonderry Unionism, made a comprehensive attack on the Labour memorandum.177 Jones asked rhetorically,
what equity is there for a Government, which represents the majority in Northern Ireland, to be subjected to influence to alter laws which suit the Province and are the basis of, and essential to, its constitutional existence and have been duly passed and accepted by the superior government and which have no way infringed the safeguards laid down in the Government of Ireland Act?
According to the Attorney-General, the constitution had been enacted to avoid a united Ireland – for which the ‘Nationalist opposition’ were still contending. The ‘minority groups’ were therefore ‘seeking, in the name of progress, to force the government here to change to procedures which they feel will suit them better when, in fact, what is sought to be changed is the very basis on which the constitutional structure of Northern Ireland was established’. The ‘day’ had ‘not yet been reached’ when ‘Catholic citizens, in general, would look on political issues as open questions’.178 In the heart of Stormont Castle, the Protestant conspiracy theory was being advocated as government policy.
The influence of the conspiracist mentality was less obvious in the subsequent Cabinet discussions. Nevertheless, ministers were uniformly hostile towards the assumptions underlying the Labour memorandum. It was ‘generally agreed’ that it ‘would be wise’ to accept only those changes that ‘would have no marked political effect’. Consequently, the business vote would be ended, the university seats abolished, and an independent boundary commission for Stormont elections established. To avoid the appearance of being forced to make concessions, the Cabinet opted to announce these changes in Parliament rather than to the Labour delegation. The accusations of discrimination that had been made in the NILP/trade union paper were dismissed without debate. Addressing the question of the local government electoral franchise was postponed until the review of the entire system had been completed. Indeed, it was suggested that the eventual restructuring would probably strengthen the case for a property franchise. The issue of reforming the trade union laws was also deferred – in this case pending the report of a royal commission.179
O’Neill looked upon political concessions as both risky and unnecessary. Given the vulnerability of his position as party leader, O’Neill could ill afford to have his critics accusing him of appeasement. Faulkner and Craig may have been compromised by their involvement with the modernisation strategy, but they still remained close to the traditionalist position in their attitude towards the minority. The problems that would be created within the party would not be offset, O’Neill calculated, by a rise in Catholic support. He assumed that civil rights only mattered to a small number of political activists and that the majority of Catholics were interested in houses, jobs, and public services. The Union’s ‘economic and social advantages’ would eventually convince the minority population to abandon Irish nationalism.180 While waiting for economic and social change to transform political allegiances, the O’Neill government offered Catholics increased funding for their community’s institutions and the PEP.181 Pressure from outside Northern Ireland, however, pushed him into at least giving the appearance of wanting to do more. From 1967 at the latest, O’Neill reluctantly found himself in danger of provoking another rebellion within the party.
BUYING TIME FROM THE BRITISH
Harold Wilson used to joke that more Irish Catholics cast their vote for him than for any Irish politician. But his once-removed Irish nationalism was not solely motivated by electoral calculation. Wilson’s spin doctor later recalled that his former boss ‘had the traditional attitude of the Left that Ireland should be united under Dublin’.182 During the 1964 general election campaign, Wilson promised to tackle discrimination in Northern Ireland. In a well-publicised reply to a letter from a Catholic pressure group, he stated that ‘a Labour Government would do everything in its power to see that the infringements of justice to which you are so rightly drawing attention are effectively dealt with’.183 Wilson failed to fulfil this promise when he came to office. Nevertheless, O’Neill still found himself under greater pressure than any of his predecessors to treat the minority fairly. Westminster had considered vetoing the 1922 Local Government Bill, but had backtracked after the Unionist Cabinet had threatened to resign and fight an election on the issue. The British government had no desire to provoke a constitutional crisis.184 By the 1960s, however, London could impose its will upon Belfast without testing the limits of the Government of Ireland Act. The post-war expansion of the state had been funded by the Treasury, which made Stormont susceptible to financial blackmail. O’Neill had to tread softly.
Even before Wilson moved into Downing Street, O’Neill found himself struggling against separatist tendencies within his party. A constant theme of his premiership was that Northern Ireland and by extension – the Unionist regime were ‘utterly dependent’ upon continued British goodwill.185 ‘There can be no room in Unionist philosophy’, O’Neill warned a local association, ‘for a kind of loyalist Sinn Féin which would turn its back upon British opinion.’ He instead proposed to demonstrate to ‘the ordinary, decent Englishman, Welshman, or Scot’ ‘that behind all the talk about “discrimination” ’ was a ‘warm and genuine community spirit’. This strategy was designed to ensure that ‘the voices of criticism’ would ‘fall increasingly upon deaf ears’.186 At the 1967 annual meeting of Unionism’s governing body, O’Neill
