Recently I received an invitation to return to my native Boherlahan. The Historical Society requested that I give a talk on the subject of my book Pilgrim Paths in Ireland, amid the winsome surroundings of the little church at Ardmayle. So I am feeling rather chuffed at present, for it is especially gratifying to be invited back to one's native heath – a sort of retrospective affirmation, I guess. Anyway, this set me thinking about past life in Co Tipperary and reminiscing about growing up in the rural Ireland of the 1970s. And it may surprise some that my abiding memory is of a confident era. The economic war with Britain, the mass emigration of the 1950s and the farmers' protests of the 1960s were, even in those days, jarring, but dimming memories.
Entry into what was then the EEC meant rural communities were no longer impoverished by artificially low UK food prices. Our much appreciated fairy godmother in Brussels ensured that farming was insulated from the discipline of the marketplace; commodity prices rose delectably, irrespective of how much was produced or over-produced.
Local champion
TJ Maher was our local champion and the epitome of a self-made man. From a small holding, he rose with hard work and self-education to become the IFA’s most charismatic leader.
Embodying all that was confident and forward-looking about rural Ireland, he gave parish esteem a great boost when introduced on RTÉ as the second most powerful man in Ireland.
Under TJ’s leadership, the world was our oyster, and the future of the Irish countryside appeared bright as young people adopted the long hair, flared jeans, sideburns and platform shoes of their urban counterparts. And why not? Unlike previous short-back-and-sides generations, everyone felt assured that rural unemployment and emigration were now consigned to the dusty annals of history. These were times when young farmers had a justifiable swagger, secured by the knowledge they supported a booming Irish economy.
Life bubbled along at a frenetic pace as prosperity brought new freedoms with rural folk now enjoying an improbably vigorous social life. Events bearing the ploughman logo of Macra na Feirme (the vibrant young farmers’ organisation) were guaranteed to bring even urban dwellers swarming in.
Country living had become decidedly sexy.
With 20/20 hindsight, it is clear the “green boom” of the 1970s was just another bubble awaiting an implosion. The prosperity derived, not from genuine consumer demand, but from accumulating food surpluses at the jaw-dropping rate of bank debt in a meltdown. It should have been a cautionary tale, but the euphoria of the times ensured that, for those of us who became teenagers in the rural Ireland of the 1970s, such thoughts were worlds away.
Seven years of plenty ended abruptly in 1980. Our Brussels godmother was powerless to rescue farming from a hamster wheel of rising costs and weak demand. Market discipline was brutally reapplied and soon farmers were returned to where they had been historically – earning 60 per cent of the average wage. Many of those who entered self-assuredly into agriculture as Ireland sashayed confidently into Europe were ultimately forced to abandon the land and seek off-farm employment.
Any journey outside the urban centres shows clearly how, in the intervening years, rural areas have declined alarmingly. Businesses closed everywhere for lack of footfall, and Boherlahan was no exception. The parish lost its thriving creamery, co-op stores and post office, while “The Hive” – once renowned nationwide as a music venue – has long since gone dark.
It may be premature, nevertheless, to proclaim the death of the local. The parish still retains sufficient business for two pubs, while in the village shop Eddie and Helen anchor community life, while selling almost everything from a needle to an anchor.
Local camogie star Una O’Dwyer is typical of rural Ireland’s educated, young entrepreneurs. A home-grown success story, she clearly understands marketplace discipline and has built value-added worth by creating a national brand as an artisan producer of award-winning bacon products.
Ambitious plans
And agriculture’s future also seems brighter. Seeing career opportunities on the land, young people are backing themselves to make viable enterprises from landholdings they would have eschewed even a decade ago. And these good news stories may have given Boherlahan GAA club the confidence to unveil ambitious plans for a state-of-the-art sports facility and floodlit Astroturf pitch in the village.
Can it be the energy and swagger of the 1970s is slowly seeping back to rural Ireland, while this time accompanied by shrewder market savvy? Fervently, I hope so.