The Barron report on the 1974 bombings has to be understood in the context of a divided and deeply insecure government in Dublin, writes Joe Carroll
The Dublin and Monaghan bombings of May 17th, 1974, came at a time when the Fine Gael-Labour coalition was under increasing strain from events in Northern Ireland in addition to internal tensions.
The oil crisis at the end of the previous year had thrown the coalition's economic policy off course. Government borrowing soared, while inflation and wage increases stayed in double figures. Even EEC entry had initially brought about a collapse of beef prices, making farmers discontented.
The recent change of government in Britain which brought Labour into power under Harold Wilson only added to Dublin's problems as the new secretary of state for Northern Ireland, Merlyn Rees, showed he had lost confidence in the survival of the power-sharing executive in Belfast and had little stomach to face down the power strikes by the Ulster Workers' Council.
Even within the coalition parties there were strains. The Minister for Foreign Affairs, Garret FitzGerald, was at odds with the Minister for Finance, Richie Ryan, over the wealth tax proposal. FitzGerald was also impatient with what he saw as foot-dragging by the Minister for Justice, Paddy Cooney, over a police authority in the Republic in accordance with the Sunningdale Agreement setting up a Council of Ireland.
Within Labour, there was also disaccord on Northern Ireland policy between the Minister for Post and Telegraphs, Conor Cruise O'Brien, and the Minister for Industry and Commerce, Justin Keating.
The former was also the adviser on Northern Ireland to the Tánaiste, Brendan Corish, and his public concern about unionist sensitivities over power-sharing increasingly irritated not just Keating but even FitzGerald and especially SDLP members such as John Hume and Paddy Devlin. The biggest worry of all for the Dublin government was the threat of a British troops withdrawal from Northern Ireland and the chaotic situation this could precipitate.
The South would inevitably be drawn into this cauldron of sectarian hatreds which would play into the hands of an increasingly confident Provisional IRA.
Early in the year there had been a round-up of IRA activists to show the government's tough approach, but then they had to be released for legal reasons.
In England IRA bombings were intensifying. The Price sisters on hunger-strike were being forcibly fed, raising fears of new martyrs for the cause. When the IRA had threatened to kidnap ministers, the cabinet agreed there would be no yielding to their ransom demands.
The murder in March 1974 by the IRA of the Fine Gael senator, Billy Fox, who was also a Protestant, horrified and infuriated ministers.
Dublin especially feared a secret deal between the new Labour government and the IRA. The Fine Gael ministers distrusted Harold Wilson ever since he had held secret talks with the IRA leadership during a visit to Dublin while he was still in opposition.
On April 23rd the new Defence Secretary, Roy Mason, warned: "Pressure is mounting on the mainland to pull out the troops; equally demands are being made to set a date for withdrawal." Not surprisingly, such an utterance from a senior British minister caused concern in Dublin as well as Belfast.
At the first meeting between the leading members of the Irish and British governments on April 5th Wilson further unnerved the coalition when he spoke of an "agonising appraisal" of the presence of British troops in Northern Ireland if the power-sharing executive broke down and there was resort to direct rule.
A month later, on a visit to Dublin Merlyn Rees appeared preoccupied by pressure in Britain for withdrawal if, as now seemed likely, the power-sharing executive broke down. The next day the Ulster Workers' Council announced their strike.
There had been posters warning that "Dublin is only a Sunningdale away." Three days later the bombs went off in Dublin and Monaghan.
The loyalist Ulster Volunteer Force and the Ulster Defence Association denied responsibility, but a spokesman for the latter organisation declared: "I am very happy about the bombings in Dublin. There is a war with the Free State and now we are laughing at them."
The finger for the atrocities in Dublin and Monaghan almost immediately pointed at the UVF which, ironically, Rees had recently legalised along with Sinn Féin in Northern Ireland in a dubious attempt to help the beleaguered executive and assembly.
It would take some time before the allegations of the connivance of members of the Northern Ireland security forces with the UVF bombers would spread.
For the government in Dublin, responsibility by the UVF alone was easier to deal with than the "appalling vista" - to quote a British judge in another context - that an arm of the government with which they were co-operating to bring peace and stability to Northern Ireland was also involved.
The overriding concern of the government was not so much the vulnerability of the Republic to bombings by loyalist paramilitaries as the temptation of a Labour government to wash its hands of an ungrateful Northern Ireland where no solution seemed to work.
On May 28th the executive and power-sharing collapsed. For the Dublin government it was time of crisis.
The IRA believed its goal of a united Ireland was appreciably nearer when, in the words of IRA senior member, Daithí Ó Conaill, they would also see the "Southern Establishment go by the board."
Does all this explain why in the words of the Barron report "the government of the day showed little interest in the bombings"? Only those then in office can answer that.
In his autobiography, Garret FitzGerald wrote that the aftermath of the collapse of the executive was "a period of deep uncertainty about the future of British policy in Northern Ireland, and consequently about the future security of our State."
For the first time the Government had to take seriously the possibility that the British could "abandon their responsibilities in Northern Ireland." For the rest of 1974 the Government was to be preoccupied with how to handle such a situation if it arose. It would be infinitely preferable to ensure by diplomatic efforts that it never occurred.
That was the priority. If the bombings were revealed to be partially the work of the British security apparatus, then the "security of our State" was even more in jeopardy.