Joan Burton (Dublin West, Labour)

Most people in Ireland found the revelations of recent years about what was happening in institutions in the archdiocese of Dublin and other dioceses to be stunning and shocking. We should pause to think of the people who highlighted this and made it a subject of discussion in Ireland despite an incredible culture of inherited secrecy. They endured, at times, public and political odium for having the courage to speak out. In addition, many within the church who were unhappy with what was going on earned the odium and criticism of the church.

Politicians like Dr. Noel Browne, Frank Cluskey and a succession of Deputies from various parties have sought to change the culture of secrecy which turned this country into a closed society after independence. People can find it difficult to understand how closed societies can develop in countries that are fanatically Islamic but the manner in which people thought and addressed issues in post-independence Ireland was governed by secrecy and a church-State relationship in which the former had the upper hand. Politicians bent their knees to the former Archbishop of Dublin, Dr. McQuaid, and other churchmen. Dr. McQuaid's influence was at least as powerful as that of the President, Taoiseach and Cabinet of his day. People who dared to dissent from the powerful princes of the church found it difficult to air their views. Irish society owes a huge debt to the ground breaking journalists and film-makers, including Mary Raftery and Bruce Arnold, who tried to describe what really happened. However, I am not convinced that the culture of secrecy and the tendency to defend the status quo no longer holds sway over significant parts of the public service.

The victims who spoke so courageously to the Ryan commission must have found it incredibly difficult to share their intimate and painful stories. A shocking revelation in the Ryan report is that many leading churchmen, including officeholders, were trained in canon and civil law. These were not ignorant people. They were fully aware of the serious nature of these crimes under both canon law and the criminal code.

One of the images of the century is the photograph of Irish bishops dressed in their long robes and kissing the Pope's ring. This was, of course, an all-male delegation which did not even include a nun as adviser, never mind lay women. I am sure most younger people would find it extraordinary to learn how senior members of the Irish church regard themselves. The only people who have distinguished themselves in this difficult period have been the Archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin, and several of the Northern bishops, who are trying to find a framework that can address the appalling abuse suffered at the hands of clergy.

Many of the abused children came from working class areas. Their parents were not well off and were flattered that a priest would befriend their sons or daughters. Religious families were likely to admire the church and welcome their local priests as friends or patrons. The extent to which these priests felt free to pick out vulnerable children in working class communities is extraordinary. In some cases where parents became aware that something was wrong, the full majesty of the law was used to brush their concerns aside.

The work of the Murphy commission should be expanded to cover other dioceses because while it may be argued that the report on the Archdiocese of Dublin established a pattern of abuse and that subsequent investigations may not reveal much more, I imagine those who were abused in other dioceses feel it is important to have their stories confirmed so that they can reassert their value as human beings.

I argued earlier that the culture of secrecy continues to pervade areas of public administration in a very unhealthy way. This is a hangover from the days when Ministers and the Civil Service were dominated by clerical thinking. A number of recent issues reflect this culture.

This week, I have listened to descriptions by adoptees of their search for their birth parents. I urge the Minister of State at the Department of Health and Children, Deputy Barry Andrews, to let in the light. His Department holds to the incorrect and out-of-date notion that adoption case workers, be they nuns or lay people, agreed some sort of clause which gave complete confidentiality to mothers giving their children up for adoption and is not breakable this side of the grave. For the past 25 years, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom have dealt with the issues that arise when people search for their birth parents.

There are three parties to an adoption, namely, the birth parents, the child and the adoptive parents, and they are bound intimately together forever. This does not mean people do not love and respect their adoptive parents but the Minister of State would do a huge service if he removed the fear and allowed the Adoption Board and the various adoption societies to let in the light. Some adopted people will never seek out their birth parents but that search is part of others' realisation of their individuality. It is wrong that the Department and the Adoption Board refuses to facilitate searches. The voluntary register was always intended as a sham. I do not know how much money was wasted on it but I would be amazed if it reconnected 100 families. I ask the Minister to provide a platform for debate. There are three sets of interests to be considered, but adopted persons have a right. A child has a fundamental right, under the UN Convention, to know who his or her parents are and to know their biological and personal history.

It is a hangover from clerical domination of this country that this approach still exists here when we know that it has been successfully done in a number of countries without people's worlds collapsing around them. It can be done sensitively and intelligently and I encourage the Minister of State to do that.

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