Every time Bertie Ahern goes through the front door of Government Buildings, he passes between the statues of two historic Irishmen. These two men were not politicians or thinkers, not rebels or writers, not artists or musicians, writes Mary Mulvihill
In fact, they were from a sphere of life that is normally not considered part of Irish culture.
So, Bertie, allow me to introduce. . .To your right, as you enter, is Robert Boyle. Born in Lismore Castle in 1627, Boyle was a key figure in the Scientific Revolution, famous for experimenting with an air pump, and now acknowledged as the father of modern chemistry.
And to your left, meet Sir William Rowan Hamilton. Born in Dublin in 1805, this mathematician became world famous for his contributions to mechanics, optics and geometry, and is often remembered for inventing a novel three-dimensional algebra called quaternions.
No doubt some will argue about how Irish these two are. Boyle, for instance, spent only part of his childhood here, and did all his work at Oxford (mind you, the troubled mid-1600s in Ireland were hardly conducive to scientific thought or experiment). He was also the son of an Englishman - an Elizabethan adventurer who acquired a vast estate here.
Hamilton, by contrast, though also of good Protestant stock, spent all his life here and even hoped his work would earn international respect for Ireland and remove the prejudice which supposes Irishmen to be incapable of perseverance. Which makes him, surely, more Irish at least than Elizabeth Bowen? But if this pair are not widely known outside scientific circles, not normally included among the pantheon of Irish greats, perhaps not even considered Irish, why do they stand guard at Government Buildings? Therein lies a long tale, but the short answer is that Government Buildings was originally Ireland's Royal College of Science. And if you haven't heard of that institution before, that is because in 1926 it disappeared into the newly-formed University College Dublin.
The building itself has a story to tell: Edward VII laid the foundation stone just 100 years ago (which is why it comes to mind now), and it was fated to be the British government's last great building in Ireland. Conceived at the dawn of the 20th century, it was then the height of modernity: concrete floors, no less, electricity throughout, elevators, turf-powered central heating, and even air-conditioning (or at least, a ventilation system with fans).
It was always intended that this grand, graceful building would house the unlikely bed-fellows of science and government, with science taking the central block and various departments of the British administration taking the north and south wings. So in 1911, when the main block was complete, science moved in.
The students had been in cramped quarters at No 51, St Stephen's Green, home to the Royal College of Science since its foundation in 1867. In fact, the college origins lie in the early 1840s, and a major campaign to develop Irish industry.
The country then, it was argued, had plenty of natural resources and labour, but needed a third-level technical college. So in 1845 the government established something called the Museum of Irish Industry, a mixture of state laboratory, research institute and college, which taught mechanical arts, mining, engineering and manufacture.
Ironically, it was then that potato blight ushered in the Famine. Industrial development was forgotten, and it was not until 1867 that the institute's educational wing was hived off to form an independent college of science.
The first Irish third-level college to admit women, it offered three-year courses and also trained science teachers; about half the students came from England. Sadly, it also gave rise to Ireland's first brain drain: schools here had little demand for science teachers, and there were few industrial jobs for graduates, so most left.
By the late 1800s matters had improved. There were more technical jobs, the courses were increasingly popular, and student numbers were growing. A bigger college of science with custom-built laboratories was the next logical step, and work began at the Merrion Street site.
Although it was was ready for science by 1911, the adjoining government accommodation was finished only in 1922 - just as the British administration was pulling out of Ireland. Quick as a flash, the new Free State's Executive Council occupied part of the building. . .and never left.
Ironically, science student numbers were now at their peak, thanks in part to returning ex-servicemen. But the college's days were numbered: it and its laboratories were handed over to the new UCD to form its science and agriculture faculties.
Some science activities continued at Merrion Street until 1989, when the last scientist moved to UCD's Belfield campus. The government finally occupied the whole premises and renovations began, under the enthusiastic eye of the then Taoiseach, Charles Haughey, to make Government Buildings into an elegant edifice fit for the self-confident Ireland of today.
But I can't help wondering how it would be if we still had an independent college of science in this prestigious setting. Would science have a higher profile here? Would Irish people be more interested in science - and more aware of their scientific heritage? Would Boyle and Hamilton be celebrated alongside Yeats and Bowen? Would the current Irish festival in China be promoting Irish scientific culture?
Perhaps UCD's gain was Ireland's loss - who knows? But if you would like to salute Boyle and Hamilton, then take a public tour of Government Buildings. Normally run on Saturdays, the tours are suspended during Ireland's EU presidency, and should resume in July. Tickets (free) are available from the National Gallery at 01 619 4116.