The first account of the Irish revolutionary period by a professional historian was published while the fires of the civil war were still burning. In 1923, Walter Phillips, an avowed unionist and professor of modern history in Trinity College Dublin, published The Revolution in Ireland 1906-23. Because of his politics, Phillips was given access to official records. Despite his bias, it was an important book precisely because he had access to those records, but it would be decades before historians would gain general access to such records. The British Public Records Act was introduced in 1958 and updated in 1967, but similar Irish legislation was not introduced until 1986.
The creation of the archival infrastructure we now have was made possible due to the only bill Garret FitzGerald ever introduced and piloted through the Oireachtas. This became the National Archives Act of 1986 which included provisions to ensure the preservation of state papers and their handing over by government departments after 30 years, subject to certain exceptions, such as if they were required for regular use or would be contrary to the public interest or could cause distress or danger to those still alive.
The legislation is not flawless; under its terms, the decision as to which files might be held back rests solely with the Department of Taoiseach without any independent oversight and it does not apply to health records or those of semi-state bodies. But it was a breakthrough and has greatly facilitated those seeking to research many aspects of the state’s approach to policy and governance since the state’s foundation. In more recent years, data protection and freedom of information legislation has allowed for a parallel right of access to certain information contained in much more recent state records.
It now appears that a whole new chapter in this archival story is beginning. The cabinet decision this week to move towards releasing state papers after 20 years has been justified by the Minister for Heritage Heather Humphreys as essential to "ensure our shared history with the UK is presented in a balanced fashion". In 2011, the British government announced that British state papers would be released after 20 years instead of 30. An independent committee had recommended a 15-year rule, but the government decided the compromise of 20 years would allow a balance to be struck between accountability and premature release of material that might impact on current government.
The concern expressed by Humphreys is reasonable. How, for example, could historians do justice to the history of Anglo-Irish relations in the 1990s, the crucial period of the peace process, if only one side of the relevant papers were available? But is a 20-year rule wise for either state? Surely individuals involved in government will be more reluctant about the views they express or what they document if the material will be released when they are likely to be alive or, indeed, still in public life or even in government? In relation to this, barrister Charles Lysaght has highlighted the advice of a Tammany Hall boss may years ago: "never write if you can speak; never speak if you can nod; never nod if you can wink".
There are other troubling questions. Will enough time have passed to place the issues being deliberated on in their proper historical context? Will the state papers be heavily redacted because of concerns that they complicate current affairs? Will the department of the Taoiseach still control what is released without any independent review? Will the archival challenges relating to the release of much older material, such as the 1926 census returns, be left to one side? And should the state not prioritise the introduction of a comprehensive plan for a co-ordinated approach to the archiving of digital records, which is worryingly absent in this state?
There is also the issue of space. For over 20 years, members of successive National Archives Advisory Councils, myself included, have highlighted the space crisis, not just in relation to future releases but regarding material that has not even been released under the 30-year rule. Quite simply, a number of government departments do not comply with their obligations under the National Archives Act by making their papers available. Although more space has been promised, commitments over the years about space have been reneged on. The Council was unambiguous in its advice to the government in November 2012: without significant investment in both space and staff, “changing to a 20 year rule is currently impossible”. The National Archives remains strikingly understaffed in comparison to fellow cultural institutions in Ireland and similar institutions abroad.
The move to a 20-year rule can be dressed up as a noble gesture in the direction of more transparent government, but without an honest addressing of the above questions, the public interest the move is supposed to address may end up being thwarted in the rush to fling the cart before the horse.