Of all the factors that contributed to the Civil War in Ireland in the early 1920s, the section of the Anglo-Irish Treaty requiring members of the Dáil to swear an oath of allegiance to the British Crown seemed the most emotive and divisive.
But symbol was one thing and practice another. Despite the historic appeal of republicanism in Irish politics, there was an equally strong tradition of Irish interest in and even affection towards the British royal family. It is an interest that has continued over many decades, reflected in the preoccupation here with the latest royal birth. Over the years we seem to have managed to combine republicanism with a deep fascination with the activities of the House of Windsor.
Many of the institutions firmly established in Irish cultural and intellectual life bear the royal title, such as the Royal Dublin Society and the Royal Irish Academy.
These are a reflection of the imperial and royal legacy that also includes the colonial grandeur of Georgian buildings and a history that once designated Dublin as the second city of the British empire, after London. In his recent book Ten Cities that made an Empire, historian and British Labour MP Tristram Hunt includes Dublin, suggesting that in the second half of the 18th century, the status of Dublin “reflected the new global realities confronting London after defeat in America and escalation of competition from France and Spain. In the face of such danger, there was a stark realization that the internal bonds of empire had to be strengthened”.
Subsequently, the royal family became a focus for nationalist resentment and royal visits to Ireland galvanised political militants to object and protest, but the enthusiasm with which royals were greeted surpassed expectations and hostile nationalist opinion. Historian James Murphy has argued that the increasing hostility displayed by nationalists towards monarchy in 19th-century Ireland was partly based on fear “of the undoubted popularity of monarchy among large sections of the Irish Catholic nationalist population and fear of the uses to which that popularity might be put”. After George V visited Dublin in July 1911 he recorded his “feelings of joy and affection” inspired by the “wonderful reception” he received.
But given the extent of the political turmoil and revolution a decade later how was it that interest in the royal family remained so strong? One relevant issue was the tradition of Irish service in the British army; while Irishmen served for a variety of reasons, officially, thousands fought for crown and empire. England was also the destination for thousands of Irish emigrants who made permanent homes there, while those who remained at home continued to absorb British popular culture and television programmes.
Preoccupation with the royal family, however, was not just about military tradition, politics, emigration or cultural ties. Following independence for southern Ireland, its citizens were not going to deprive themselves of keeping up to date with the glamour, gossip and spectacle associated with the royals, particularly when they did not have their own royal family to gossip about. During bleak times economically and politically, there was light relief, frivolity and titillation to be enjoyed by following scandals and developments at Buckingham Palace.
In the 1990s, Irish cleric Mark Hederman wrote entertainingly about the Wallis- Simpson abdication crisis in 1936; his mother was well-informed about this, despite a news blackout in Ireland: “When my mother began to tell people at parties in Dublin, they thought she was off her head. Being a conscientious Catholic she asked a Jesuit priest whether it was libel, detraction or scandal to be spreading news that was common knowledge in America but completely unknown over there: ‘I’m not quite sure which it is’ he said, ‘but it’s very interesting, tell me more.’” In a State where a strict Catholic and moral code was being imposed, the decadence, extravagance and colourful love lives of the House of Windsor were far too intriguing to ignore.
In her book Crown and Shamrock, journalist Mary Kenny recalled that a number of private screenings of the coronation of the current queen were arranged in Ireland in the summer of 1953. Kenny’s aunt and uncle went to a private gathering at the Methodist Hall in Sandymount to watch it, and absorbed with fascination all the pomp, ceremony and pageantry.
The politics of the peace process and the success of Queen Elizabeth’s visit in 2011 meant a long-standing private interest could become public. Irish people no longer have to sneak about whispering about royal lifestyle scandals, furtively glance at photographs of royal babies or watch royal weddings in secret; an estimated 1.3 million people in Ireland watched the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton in 2011. Those interested can now gorge on royal events to their hearts’ content, in public and private.