THE LESSONS OF WOOD QUAY

Amongst other things, the Wood Quay campaign of the 1970s resulted in two books. In one of these, by the North American Thomas Heffernan, the author described it as "one of the most intense battles ever waged by the public to save any archaeological site anywhere".

A key word here is "public". So-called ordinary people - men, women and children, young, middle aged and old, natives and foreigners, academics and non-academics - were emboldened to take the initiative. They sustained a campaign over several years.

Opposition came mainly from those in authority - in central and local government - from those with the bureaucratic agendas and with the prejudices of officialdom. The destructive capacity of such people is enormous. Witness the "civic bunkers" at Wood Quay.

At least four lessons can be drawn directly from the experience of Wood Quay. All four are of relevance to recent and current campaigns to conserve what remains of Ireland's cultural heritage.

1. Do your historical homework
As part of any conservation campaign, the historical importance of the site has to be established. It has to be established professionally, on the basis of survey work for the prehistoric period and with the addition of documentary analysis for the historic period. Back in 1977-8 two large-scale maps were prepared by members of an existing study group, the Friends of Medieval Dublin. One of them was used in the High Court to demonstrate the historicity of the Wood Quay site.

The same map marked, with a broken orange line, the zone of archaeological potential for the entire medieval city. Such an analysis suggested, and still suggests, a combination of archaeological probabilities and possibilities. Only archaeological excavation can confirm or confound these.

2. Don't underestimate the opposition
Officialdom will tend to obstruct one's aims and will resort to all manner of tactics, including downright lies. Accordingly, such a campaign requires leadership, time and energy. In the years 1976-81 much of this was provided by the late F.X. Martin, who was charismatic, courageous, resourceful and tenacious. One of the most depressing aspects of the Wood Quay campaign was that officialdom included some archaeologists, both decision-makers and freelancers. For example, the then director of the National Museum of Ireland spoke dismissively of "a few inches of wattle", while down in Cork a senior archaeologist referred famously to "this hole in Dublin". Officialdom will even resort to ethnic bias, in this case deriving from anti-Britishness. Thus at one stage the National Museum was prepared to sacrifice all of the Anglo-Norman ("English") levels outside the inner city wall in favour of the Viking and Hiberno-Norse levels inside. Officialdom is often satisfied with token preservation, that is, a small part of the whole. At Wood Quay today the public can view only a section of the inner north wall beside one of the modern tower blocks, together with an outline marked on the ground of its former course. The rest was demolished by unskilled workmen, partly by hand and partly by machine! The promised Viking museum in the basement has never materialised.

3. Don't trust the law, or lawyers
In June 1978 the entire Wood Quay site was given legal protection by the High Court when it was declared a national monument. Unfortunately a provision in the 1930 National Monuments Act provided for the demolition of any national monument with the consent of the commissioners of public works. Back in 1930 no one would have envisaged the demolition of a 1.6 hectare (4 acre) archaeological site. Rather the legislators were probably thinking of round towers and the like that might become unstable and a danger to the public. This provision of the 1930 act was applied by Dublin Corporation and by the government, using a legal device called a joint-consent. Some improvements were made in subsequent legislation, but the most recent provisions in this area in effect empower a government minister to determine the fate of all contentious archaeological sites. There is the possibility of recourse to European law, but this is too slow and cumbersome to be of much practical use in a crisis.

4. Whatever the political temperature, keep on digging
The Wood Quay campaign was a partial success in that time was gained for more digging. Nevertheless, more material was lost than most people realise: only 24% of the Anglo-Norman deposits were excavated properly according to one estimate. In the summer of 1977 members of the Friends of Medieval Dublin were showing visitors to the excavated site large timbers, refuse pits, drainage channels and so on. Extensive damage was caused to the perimeter of the site by the insertion of steel sheeting. As a result, all of the Fishamble Street house plots were truncated. Much of what was saved was secured by public pressure in the face of obstructiveness and outright opposition of officialdom. Even now, there are people who will not admit the truth of this. As Heffernan also remarked, "at one moment officialdom may cherish archaeological work and fund it, at another moment dismiss and obstruct it".

5. No site is sacred
In the light of the Wood Quay experience, together with that of many others since then - among the most notable being Carrickmines, Tara and Woodstown - one may draw a further conclusion that has stark and potentially irreversible consequences. No site is sacred. The cultural heritage of this island - prehistoric and historic, rural and urban, so diverse and rich - is now under threat of officially sanctioned destruction or impairment as never before.

(Professor) Howard Clarke
School of History,
University College, Dublin.

[From Sunday Tribune (Sunday 17 October 2004), originally written for conference on Carrickmines]