Some injustices grow more scandalous and appalling with time. One such case is the treatment of the gay community by the authorities in the early 1980s. In September 1982 a group of men kicked to death 31-year-old Aer Rianta worker, Declan Flynn, in a park in Dublin and walked out of court with suspended sentences, having not served a day behind bars.
The miscarriage of justice was a catalysing moment for the Irish gay community. But it wasn’t the only one. Eight months before the murder of Flynn and its disgraceful aftermath, another member of the LGBTQ community died in horrific circumstances. As with Flynn, nobody has been held to account for his killing.
Not that there wasn’t lots of blame to go around following the brutal stabbing in January 1982 of RTÉ set designer Charles Self at his home in Monkstown, Dublin. In a horribly gripping episode of Irish language documentary series Misneach (TG4, Wednesday, 9.30pm), gay people recall how the gardaí were quick to turn their attention to the homosexual community in Dublin – seemingly more intent on oppressing gay people than bringing Self’s murderer to justice.
“It was the first time I can recall something so horrific and terrifying happening to us. Fear was the primary emotion among gay people. That incident quickly set events in motion, and put us under pressure,” recalls gay rights campaigner Cathal Kerrigan
Gardaí interviewed 1,500 members of the gay scene. Their starting position seemed to be that, simply by existing, gay people were guilty. If not of Self’s murder, then of daring to be themselves in a country that insisted on grim, stultifying conformity (homosexuality was not decriminalised until 1993).
[ Murder in Monkstown: the brutal killing of Charles SelfOpens in new window ]
[ Charles Self: The inspiring work and tragic death of an intrepid RTÉ designerOpens in new window ]
“They forced me down to the police station, put some interrogation on me and fingerprinted me. And did this to many people who they decided were from the gay community,” said actor Raymond Keane, whom the Garda wrongly assumed to be gay – and so felt free to treat as a third-class citizen. “I was scared. It was very intimidating and I felt unsafe. So it was pretty awful.”
The murder was never solved. And then, later that year, Declan Flynn was killed in Fairview. These attacks galvanised the gay community. They had grown up in an Ireland indifferent to their suffering. But these two deaths were too much. A march to Fairview to protest over the light-touch sentencing of Flynn’s killers was followed by the first Dublin Pride Parade in 1983. Out of terrible evil, something positive emerged.
“You could say it all started with Charles Self’s murder when we started fighting back against the gardaí after their investigation of the gay scene back in 1982,” says Kerrigan.
However, the story is not over. The 1,500 individuals interviewed as part of the investigation into the death of Self each had a Garda file opened. To this day, the authorities have refused to return them. Cathal Kerrigan has sought access to his on several occasions – only to come up against a brick wall. Things have changed in Ireland – but perhaps not to the extent we would like to believe.
