Anglo-Irish relations: Dublin wanted to avoid giving London an excuse for a self-interested pull-out, writes John Bowman.
There was a distinct chill in Anglo-Irish relations throughout 1975.
In part this was a residue from Dublin's anger at how Harold Wilson had been careless - even reckless - as British custodian of the post-Sunningdale power-sharing experiment in Northern Ireland in 1974.
Wilson's failure to stand up to the Ulster Workers' Council strike, his first political test since ousting Ted Heath from Downing Street, brought down the executive and left Irish nationalists disillusioned with the British Labour Party.
Throughout the files for 1975, in the Taoiseach's department and in Foreign Affairs (DFA), there is a wariness about British intentions and a suspicion that they might abandon Northern Ireland, leaving behind a security vacuum in which the nationalists east of the Bann would be especially vulnerable.
One DFA document put it that if the British announced a withdrawal they would not tarry: "The most probable outcome is that they would get out as fast as their ships and planes would carry them."
The continuing crisis in Northern Ireland and the difficulty in assessing its outcome was a central preoccupation of the Fine Gael-Labour coalition government.
Contingency plans were explored for all eventualities.
The thrust of government policy was to support the SDLP as the elected representatives of northern nationalism and to hold the British government to their responsibilities.
The fact that many documents have been abstracted from the files on security grounds may be noted here.
Of the files seen by this writer, perhaps as many as 30 documents have been held back. Some might be insignificant but sensitive to an individual - others could be more important. In any event, a three-day opportunity to preview the most significant files will not necessarily provide a complete picture.
The early months of 1975 were dominated by the IRA ceasefire which had followed the Feakle talks of late 1974 in which Protestant clergymen had met the IRA leadership.
In February the British ambassador reassured minister for foreign affairs Garret FitzGerald that the ongoing contacts between the British and the IRA "was to explain British policy and not to negotiate".
The NIO officials had found the Sinn Féin representatives "were still politically naive and did not seem to have the remotest understanding of British policy".
The main political initiative of the year was the holding of elections to the Northern Ireland Convention.
Dublin correctly estimated that the broad unionist coalition, the UUUP, would be the dominant unionist voice, including parties led by Ian Paisley, Harry West and William Craig, all determined to renew their opposition to any outcome such as had been negotiated at Sunningdale some 18 months before.
At a meeting in London in March, Craig told FitzGerald that "insofar as he was concerned, power-sharing would not even be on the agenda" when the convention talks began.
When FitzGerald alluded to the "important shift in Southern policy on the whole unity question" and that all parties now appreciated the consent principle, Craig insisted that "most Protestants would with reason fear the return of a Fianna Fáil government".
Craig raised the question of Articles 2 and 3 of the Constitution "but accepted that a referendum which failed would be worse than no referendum at all".
After the convention elections, there was pessimism given that the UUUC had enjoyed a landslide among Unionist voters.
Seán Donlon for the DFA summarised what he called "the Hume line": that if the SDLP's first option of power-sharing and an institutionalised Irish dimension was rejected, and if loyalists were to clash with the British government, the SDLP believed that the British and Irish governments would have to work out a fair solution and enforce it "if necessary by joint military action".
Donlon - by then an assistant secretary in the department but continuing to be the main expert on Northern policy - added that if there proved to be a deteriorating political and security situation "there may well be significant shifts from that position, particularly if it became manifestly unattainable.
"The influence of Currie, whose thinking is, like Fitt's, more than ever dominated by his fears for the safety of the minority in East Ulster . . . will be significant."
Six weeks later, in mid-August, Donlon again reported that he had found "the situation on the ground was as bad as anything I have seen there since 1972".
The balance of opinion which he had sounded suggested that "at least initially, the Provos did not want trouble - among other things it does not suit the 'respectable' image which they are trying to cultivate in minority areas.
"The most frequently expressed view was that the Provos were trying to cool the situation as part of their overall plan of winning support from the minority for the inevitable but not imminent resumption."
He recorded "a climate of opinion a few degrees more sympathetic" to the Provisionals than for some time.
This was because internment was being seen to end "as a direct result of talks between the Provos and the British government and many on the minority side believe that in the next round of political talks their point of view and interests will, whether they like it or not, be looked after by Provos".
Donlon concluded that the "crust between support of constitutional politics and acceptance of a campaign of violence is probably as thin now as it has been since the fall of Stormont".
When Cosgrave had asked for reassurances that no repetition of the UWC strike would be tolerated, he could scarcely have been reassured with Wilson's reply that "despite the best efforts of all those who wish it well", the convention "may not succeed".
Moreover, should it fail, "there may be damaging consequences". This must have read like a blank cheque.
Nor could the Irish government have found solace in a comment recorded elsewhere in the files, Wilson reportedly answering a senior SDLP politician: "If there is another UWC strike, we will not be there to deal with it."
In September the DFA surmised that there would be a further initiative from London following the anticipated failure of the convention.
It noted one danger for Dublin in getting too closely involved in its formulation: "The more we participate, the more we facilitate the British in any plans they may be developing for shuffling off the Northern coil."
This document commented on what might happen in the North in the event of a British withdrawal.
"The most commonly held opinion is that majority and minority interests would attempt to consolidate their own position in the areas where they were strongest. This, bluntly, means civil war. What possible interest the British would have in maintaining 'guarantees' in this situation is impossible to see."
Another recurring theme is the possibility of repartition. This is pervasive. A special inter-departmental unit produced a position paper covering it as a possibility: but this is an indicator of prudent contingency planning, nothing more.
In a memorandum for the government on December 30th, the year was summarised.
The British "appear to have rejected integration, repartition and independence as options for serious discussion and all the present information points to a continuation of direct rule, though perhaps in a modified form."
The prevailing impression of these files is of a group of political and civil service experts, dedicated to protecting the complicated and interdependent interests of nationalists throughout Ireland.
Above all, they were wary of giving the British any excuse to make a precipitate, self-interested withdrawal.
Despite routine British reassurances that this would not happen, it would have been naive and irresponsible for the Dublin government not to have reserved a vigilant scepticism for Harold Wilson's government.
Wilson himself was not trusted, Merlyn Rees was not respected and James Callaghan was scarcely reassuring.
The contrast between the two foreign ministers could not have been more stark: Northern Ireland may have been FitzGerald's first priority, but Northern Ireland was scarcely high on Callaghan's list of priorities.
He not only admitted to FitzGerald to being a poor attendee at the cabinet's Irish committee, but when asked, he could not even remember who the other members were.
In contrast to what must have been disappointment at so many encounters with British Labour politicians, FitzGerald may have found some reassurance from a brief private conversation with the Conservative deputy leader, William Whitelaw, who confided to him that "he would do everything in his power to prevent any deal between the Conservatives and any of the NI loyalist groups".
He added that "he thought his position in the party was still such that he could effectively prevent any such deal".
This conversation took place immediately prior to the first meeting between Garret FitzGerald and Margaret Thatcher.
The account, the first of so many on Thatcher and Northern Ireland in the DFA files in the years which followed - she had just ousted Ted Heath as Conservative leader - reflects no trace of her early thinking on Northern Ireland.
She was, for once, in listening mode.
Both politicians were not then to know that just 10 years later, they would transform Anglo-Irish relations with the Hillsborough Agreement of 1985.