The relationship between Éamon de Valera and Seán Lemass is arguably the most important relationship between two Irish politicians in the history of the State. Between them, they were taoisigh (though the office was not known as that until 1937) for all but six years between 1932 to 1966.
They were contrasting men. The stereotype of de Valera as the romantic dreamer and Lemass as the bustling pragmatist are not that far removed from Lemass’s own observations as to how their relationship worked.
They also had contrasting styles of leadership. Lemass was famous for his impatience, which supporters interpreted as his desire to get things done. This was evident in cabinet meetings where de Valera would “always let the argument go on” until there was unanimity. Lemass eschewed such an approach and would shut down discussions at cabinet once a majority was reached.
De Valera never set up cabinet sub-committees so arguments would go on long into the evening.
“These extended from the morning to the evening, and sometimes to the night and all these things were argued out,” Lemass recalled. “We would give in just for the sake of getting the thing finished, one way or the other.”
For Lemass, there were two de Valeras, the charismatic politician which led the Republican movement to government, and then 16 years of unbroken rule from 1932 to 1948.
Lemass is unstinting in his admiration of de Valera's early years as Fianna Fáil leader and taoiseach. Nobody but Dev, he believed, could have brought the defeated anti-Treaty side from pariah status after the Civil War to government within 10 years.
‘Fervent honesty’
Lemass recognised his own limitations in inspiring people as de Valera had done. De Valera had a “fervent honesty” which chimed with people. De Valera had a capacity “to be able to stand up in the rain and talk for an hour on the simplest terms to them, which I could never do.
“Paying no attention to the rain or anything else, spelling everything out in the simplest terms to them, going back over it again and again if he thought they hadn’t understood it. Now that extraordinary loyalty and enthusiasm that he engendered was partially down to this – simplicity, I suppose is the word for it. Lack of sophistication anyway.”
He praises the younger de Valera for having been clear-sighted in the big political issues of the day. This allowed de Valera to demolish the Treaty within three to four years, ending with the Anglo-Irish Free Trade Agreement in 1938.
“This was real political genius of the highest order which nobody else would have been capable of – anyone else would have been capable of – anyone else would have put a foot wrong, or would have been tough, when it was unwise to be tough, or weak, when it was unwise to be weak.
“He was able to walk the middle course all the time to take advantage of every opportunity that emerged and eventually created a situation where five years after he became head of the government again the Treaty was dead and without any ill effects even in the matter of the relationship with Great Britain”.
Though he demurred in all politics, Lemass admitted he had “furious” rows with de Valera on economic policy and he wouldn’t “subordinate my judgement at all”.
Things changed after Fianna Fáil was voted out of office in 1948 by an inter-party coalition led by Fine Gael. This was a shock to Fianna Fáil, which had been in government for 16 consecutive years.
Lemass noted that after 1948, de Valera became unfocused and lost a lot of his old drive. In 1948, he was 66, but remained on as Fianna Fáil leader until 1959.
Lemass was 17 years younger than de Valera and his natural successor. There was “never any question in anybody’s mind that when Dev went I was going to step into his place” yet he felt unable to remove the great totem from office.
“In the 1950s, I began to realise that Dev was losing his grip, that he was no longer the man he had been,” Lemass recalled.
“I sometimes got impatient at the incapacity of the government under his leadership to do things that had to be done, the defects of co-ordination in government.
“But, insofar as I had any desire, on my part, to become taoiseach, it was just a conviction that, where the organisation and administration of the government was concerned, I could do a better job than he was doing at the time.”
De Valera had two spells as taoiseach in the 1950s – the first time between 1951 and 1954, the second from 1957 until his retirement from the office in 1959.
Lemass is withering in his criticism of de Valera’s last term as taoiseach. “In practice, Dev had long ceased to be a leader in the full sense of the term,” he told his interviewer Dermot Ryan.
“Up to that time he was the driving force in solving all our political problems. “He was always pressing for action in the fields in which he considered it was needed. After a time, this changed and he became, as I suppose people of his age-bracket always tend to become, a man to whom you brought ideas – he became the judge of other people’s ideas rather than the initiator of them himself.”
Cold fury
Lemass’s frustration with de Valera turned to cold fury in 1959 when de Valera announced his candidacy for the presidency.
Lemass expected de Valera to step down immediately as taoiseach, but he didn’t. De Valera remained as taoiseach even while he campaigned for the presidency.
“I felt there was a suggestion he was going up for election as president and if he did not win he was going to remain on as taoiseach,” he said.
“I felt that from the point of view of running the election team and exercising authority I should have been made taoiseach as soon as he announced his candidacy.
“He should have given the public appearance of burning his boats so that people would say, ‘if he is not president, he is nothing’. I felt a certain feeling of frustration that I was sitting around, designated as taoiseach, but not active or effective as such.
“It was only on the eve of the poll that he announced his resignation as taoiseach. It would have been wiser for him, both from the electioneering point of view and from the party point of view to have resigned as taoiseach as soon as he went out campaigning.
“I would have preferred if he hadn’t been the candidate. This was despite the fact that perhaps, more than anyone else, I recognised he had passed the point of no return of being effective as a party leader.
“The whole management of the party was left to me, Dáil business was left to me, he didn’t intervene at all. I was concerned with the formulation of the economic policy. The preparation of the first programme was left to me. He didn’t intervene.
“He never asked why you did anything; new ideas did not come from him at all.”
