Gary Gannon (Dublin Central, Social Democrats) | Oireachtas source

I thank Sinn Féin for bringing forward this incredibly important motion. In Dublin everybody has a story about the bombings that took place 50 years ago this week, in 1974, but absolutely nobody feels they have a full understanding of the truth of what happened that day, although everybody suspects they know what happened. We will go into that further.

I have talked to a number of different people who shared their stories about that day in 1974. Earlier today, on my way back here, I had a conversation with my father. I wanted to get the context and place myself in the environment of what happened. He has told me the story a few times. When I think of how the events of that day are told in my house, we always refer to the chopper bike my dad owned as a ten-year-old. He remembers being in Hill Street flat complex cycling around on the chopper bike. Miss O'Reilly looked over the balcony and asked him to go find her son who she said was down in the barber shop. As it was approaching dinner, she wanted him to get her son and bring him back home. My dad, on his chopper bike, left Hill Street and cycled down the hill past Paddy's pet shop. He checked the two or three barbers on Parnell Street and went down towards the Welcome Inn, where he suspected his cousin may be if he could not be found anywhere else. He asked a couple of people, and subsequently cycled back up North Great George's Street to get back into Hill Street. As Miss O'Reilly relayed to him that her son had just come home, he said he heard the most ungodly boom, a boom he remembers to this day, and which did not so much knock him off his bike but made the ground shudder underneath him. As a ten-year-old, curiosity got the better of my father and he got back on his bike and cycled down to Parnell Street. He says the thing he remembers most about the scene of devastation and glass he witnessed that day was the silence. He says that following the loudest boom he could imagine was a silence that was deafening, as the people on Parnell Street came to terms with what was happening. My dad still did not really know what had taken place. He just saw devastation and cycled back up the road to his own accommodation in a tenement off Gardiner Street to find his mother sobbing and crying with joy when he went in. He said just as they were about to embrace, they heard the second boom from Talbot Street. For me, that is the luckiness and good fortune. I am conscious we are gathered in the Chamber with so many people in the Public Gallery who were not as lucky as my family and my father. Their stories are more harrowing, but the memory and trauma ingrained in people the length and breadth of Dublin and Monaghan of that day 50 years ago lives on in the stories that are shared across the board. My father also told me that a couple of years ago in the warfarin clinic he bumped into a friend of his, Derek Byrne, who passed away not too long ago. When they asked each other why there were there, Derek relayed that he still had shrapnel throughout his entire body because of what took place 48 years before that meeting. My dad's story is one of fortune and luck, but the stories of so many other people are not.

Today we gather to reflect on the darkest chapter in the history of Ireland, the Dublin and Monaghan bombings of 17 May 1974. It was the single deadliest attack during the tumultuous period known as the Troubles. As we approach the 50th anniversary of that day, it is our duty to remember the 33 innocent lives lost and the hundreds more that were irrevocably changed due to this heinous act. The bombings, executed with ruthless precision, saw three car bombs explode in Dublin during rush hour, followed by a fourth in Monaghan less than 90 minutes later. The magnitude of the devastation was unprecedented. The shock and grief were profound and far reaching. Families were torn apart. The sense of security within these bustling communities was shattered in an instant.

As we delve deeper, the further we get away from this history, it is imperative to discuss the serious allegations we know to be true, but which have surfaced more in the decades that have followed and point towards collusion by elements within the British state, or indeed the British state itself. Reports and investigations have demonstrated a shadowy interface between the bombers in the Glenanne gang and the British security forces.

These allegations suggest that rogue elements in the British military or intelligence may have had prior knowledge of, or directly assisted in, the planning and execution of these attacks. Such accusations deepen the scars and compound the pain with a profound sense of betrayal. The weight of these allegations call for thorough scrutiny and transparency. For too long, the families of the victims and survivors have carried the burden of the unknown. They have lived with unanswered questions and unresolved grief. The path to healing must include the pursuit of truth. This pursuit has been championed by the tireless campaign groups such as Justice for the Forgotten, which have been instrumental in pushing for further investigation and accountability. Their quest for justice has seen some progress in the establishment of various inquiries and the release of reports that have shed light on potential oversights and failures which may have masked collusion. However, much remains to be done. Campaign groups have repeatedly called for full access to all relevant documents and records, some of which remain classified by the British Government under the pretext of national security. The reluctance to release these files only fuels suspicion and hinders reconciliation efforts. As we approach this solemn anniversary, our call to action is clear. We must support the demand for transparency and full disclosure. Every piece of information that can be unearthed must be brought to light to bring some measure of peace to the victims’ families. We owe it to them to ensure that their decades’ long struggle for answers and justice is not in vain.

The Governments involved should take proactive steps to acknowledge and address the past. Only then can we foster an environment where truth can pave the way for genuine reconciliation. Only by confronting these uncomfortable truths that we can hope to prevent any tragedies of the future.

Let us remember not only the lives lost and the families broken but also our duty to uphold the principles of justice and truth. The Dublin and Monaghan bombings remain a stark reminder of the fragility of peace and the destructive power of hatred. As we reflect, we must commit ourselves to a future where history cannot be allowed repeat itself. Reconciliation can only be brought by truth and then justice.

The enormity of what happened can never be lost on us as it was in the first decades by the State architecture here and in the UK, that is, a terrorist attack inflicted on the people of Dublin and Monaghan was carried out by forces of the British state. Until that is acknowledged and until that truth is revealed, reconciliation for the families that have been torn apart and among a populace which still demands answers can never be fully achieved. Fifty years on, families are in the Gallery demanding that we, as their representatives stand true, and hold the British state to account. I am very conscious of other acts of collusion, such as the tragedy of what was inflicted on the Miami Showband. That truth cannot be allowed to lie. It is incumbent on us in this Chamber – and no one has a monopoly on this role – to seek and demand answers and accountability from those who were complicit in that most heinous crime of terror – the state-aided terror – which was inflicted on the people of Dublin and Monaghan and throughout communities in the North.

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