Will Ireland break up?

Once the church ruled the country. Today's knife-edge referendum on divorce may change all that forever. Alan Murdoch reports

Among the teenagers of Dublin in their Saturday-best attire of American silver anoraks, miniskirts and chunky-heeled boots, the more plainly dressed country cohorts of last weekend's Christian Solidarity marchers against divorce seemed from another era.

As if to ward off the evils of a new materialism, they held their placards high above their heads as they started homeward through the shopping mecca of Grafton Street, past youths with strangely coloured hair and girls with rings in their noses. Some held up blue and white plaster statues of the Virgin Mary, others banners proclaiming the small farming counties of Mayo, Clare and Leitrim from which they had travelled to defend the Vatican line.

Yet these determined voices, kneeling during their march to pray, lighted candles in their hands, were untypical of the main plank of opposition in this year's divorce battle. Church-state friction was limited for much of the campaign, erupting with full force only in the final week. Mostly, anti-divorce campaigners have argued that social and economic damage would follow its arrival.

Many of those choosing to fight divorce on these grounds are hardline pro-Vatican stalwarts, blooded in the fierce abortion and divorce battles of 1983, 1986 and 1992. But their decision to avoid a direct religious attack speaks volumes about the changed social landscape in Ireland, regardless of whether today's finely balanced referendum sees divorce approved, or, if rejected, forced off the political agenda for another 20 years, as some party leaders warn.

Facts have overtaken Catholic ideology. Births outside marriage in Ireland are among the highest in Europe. By the end of last year they had reached 20.3 per cent of all births. Dublin priests can be regularly heard complaining that in new working-class suburbs the clergy's only contact with most families is at christenings, first communions and confirmation ceremonies.

The economic climate is also critical. Getting married is not an option for many young unemployed in a country where 15 per cent are out of work. Income-tax rates are the highest in Europe and a deterrent to any young person planning a family. Economic commentators last year maintained that in Dublin, supporting an average family and paying a mortgage at current prices was not viable for anyone on less than IRpounds 30,000 (pounds 31,200).

Many young people left the country during the Eighties. Almost entire degree classes in subjects such as engineering decamped abroad in search of work soon after graduating. Senior Irish government advisers today lament the fact many who left were the best brains of their age-group.

Economic demands and insecurity of employment have probably made today's Irish young more cautious about marital commitment. Add that to a situation where there is no second chance if a marriage fails, and the institution has even fewer attractions.

A debate between Galway farmers at a cattle market last week highlighted another key point - the improved status of women. "You can't tie a woman to a chair in the kitchen and expect her to stay there for life. Those days are gone," one said with approval.

Modernised social welfare has made women less dependent on men. Government Pro-Divorce posters underline this, citing "80,000 reasons to vote Yes" - the number of separated people currently unable to remarry.

Recent scandals have also undermined the Church's ability to reach ordinary people. Last month, the Catholic primate, Cardinal Cahal Daly, was heckled and jeered amid cries of "Shame" by an angry television audience as he presented a less-than-convincing defence of his Church's handling of sex-abuse revelations involving members of his clergy. Even five years ago, that reaction would have been unthinkable.

The uneasy grip of the Church was probably anticipated and accounted for in the propaganda of the two main anti-divorce campaigns, which scarcely mention Catholic teaching. The assumption is that it is no longer possible to win a vote by direct appeal to Catholic values, and certainly not by edict of Church bishops.

A vivid example came this month when a draconian bishop's insistence that divorced and remarried Catholics would not be entitled to the sacraments, spanning communion or the last rites, drew heavy criticism, some from fellow clergy. The next day, a tabloid cartoon depicted the convicted paedophile Father Brendan Smyth in prison in "I'm all right Jack" mode, cheerfully enjoying communion, a privilege still open to him. The inference was widely noted - that some priests are more worried by divorce than child abuse.

In the last 10 days ,the debate has reached fever pitch. The social welfare minister, Proinsias De Rossa, accused an archbishop, Dr Dermot Clifford, of telling lies over the failure rate of second marriages in Britain. The finance minister, Ruairi Quinn, was forced to apologise after calling the leading legal expert on the "No" side "a very clever man. So was Hitler."

The health minister, Michael Noonan, was also scathing about the alleged role of right-wing American fundamentalists in funding the No Divorce Campaign. Dubbed the "Provisionals" by the Dublin media for its extreme propaganda, the campaign has widely promoted claims that divorce will raise tax by 10 per cent, and, with the slogan "Hello Divorce ... Goodbye Daddy", suggested that husbands are only waiting for divorce in order to abscond.

All six Dail parties and Sinn Fein support divorce. Several party leaders last week warned of the impact a "No" vote could have on the Northern Ireland peace process. Most striking was the appeal of Bertie Ahern, leader of Ireland's biggest party, Fianna Fail, himself separated, and whose own voters are against divorce by 49 to 38 per cent. "The spirit of majoritarianism in Ireland has had unfortunate effects," he warned, claiming the poll would be "a defining moment for Ireland, showing whether Irish people are prepared to take seriously the rights of minorities in this country."

He reminded his members their party was a republican one, and thus, by definition, not Catholic by allegiance.

Aids of the Taoiseach, John Bruton, suggest that Pope John Paul's intervention on Wednesday will have antagonised religious minorities and non-believers into coming out and voting Yes. With a weekend poll showing the Yes camp just 3 per cent ahead, this may have a slim but important effect on what will be a knife-edge result.