I move that the Bill be now read a Second Time. It is a very short Bill consisting only of three sections. Its purpose is contained in the brief section 2 which reads:
The Board shall not, in the exercise of their powers and functions, demolish Georgian houses in the city of Dublin unless authorised in writing by the Minister to do so, after a resolution so authorising the Minister has been passed by each House of the Oireachtas.
This Bill relates to what I can only describe as the vandal plan of the ESB to level an historic street of houses in the city of Dublin. The Bill seeks to curb the swollen arrogance of semi-anonymous rulers by decree and to make one of their major activities subject to the scrutiny and approval of Dáil Éireann. It affords me personally the opportunity of condemning the impudence of a State body—there is nothing "semi" about this body: it can be described as a State body practically in the full sense of the word— in seeking to destroy repairable and liveable houses at a time of severe housing shortage which affects many thousands of Dubliners. The Bill also is an attempt to save a handsome part of Dublin for the continued use and enjoyment of Dubliners, of the nation and, indeed, of the world.
I want to ask the Minister, as the Departmental head responsible for the activities of the ESB, this question : What compelling need is there for the headquarters of the ESB to be concentrated in this district at all? Are we not all only too keenly aware of the undesirable concentration of large-scale business activity in central city areas which entails the office employment of large numbers of people? Are we not all only too well aware that this trend, which has gone unchecked, to concentrate large-scale business activity in central city areas, for no arguable reason, is having a very serious effect on our economy generally and also upon the traffic problem as it relates to the centre of Dublin? What interests have been consulted in this matter apart from the convenience of the members of the Board of the ESB?
I want to know why the ESB will not build their new headquarters outside the city area in a suburban district or even in a county area such as Santry or Clondalkin or Lucan or Blanchardstown or, indeed, any other city fringe district where there is ample room for extension and development and where there is obvious need for the introduction of this kind of large scale employment in order to help the economy of the villages or towns or districts concerned in the urban or suburban area. Why have the ESB chosen, in their autocratic fashion and in defiance of the expressed wishes, I would say, of the vast majority of the citizens of Dublin and in spite of the objections of the elected representatives of the people in the City Hall— the Corporation—to defy public opinion in this matter and to proceed now in collaboration with the Minister for Local Government with their proposal to raze to the ground 18 or 19 houses in Fitzwilliam Street? I am not an architect and I profess to have no knowledge of architecture, unlike some of the so-called architects going around. However, not being an architect, these houses appear to me to be perfectly sound, at least from the outside. In fact, they have been the subject of expert scrutiny within recent years by a highly qualified world authority on this kind of architecture and the houses have been pronounced capable of preservation.
It may be asked why we bother to preserve these houses. The first point is the housing need. If these houses were made available for ordinary occupancy by people who need places to live in there would be 100 applications for every vacancy in these houses in this city immediately and economic rents would be forthcoming for them. Another consideration is that those of us who are Dubliners or, let us say, naturalised Dubliners—those of us who have lived most of our lives in Dublin—may be said to have a sentimental attachment to this city and its topography and its appearance but we also have a very sincere regard for it.
If you walk on a Sunday morning from Holles Street Hospital towards the top of that Georgian prospect and see the Dublin mountains at the end, if the sun is right, you cannot but feel that what you are looking at here is Dublin, uniquely Dublin, and that Dublin is a unique city; that you are looking at the city, not of George II or George I—if they were ever here, I do not know—but at the city of Grattan, of Napper Tandy, of Theobald Wolfe Tone and Robert Emmet and, coming down to later days, of mighty literary figures, Irish people who went out and stormed the literary citadels of the world and made us proud of the name of this city. That is the kind of thing you think, or at least the average intelligent Dubliner —and that applies to 99 per cent of the population of Dublin—thinks when he walks in the shadow of these houses.
Houses have been falling as we know, houses which I suppose could be described as Georgian; but these are houses of a different character from those we are discussing here. The houses that have been falling with such disastrous results in parts of the city because their life span has obviously come to an end are houses which were acquired by some landlords in many cases one hundred or more years ago for exploitation and for letting to the working people of the city who lived in such houses in conditions which, as we know, were not only appalling but which, according to the inquiry into the housing of Dublin working classes in 1913, were comparable only with the conditions of the natives of Calcutta, India, and no other city in the world had such overcrowding, squalor and poverty.
That was at the time, as we know, of the great James Larkin and the other gentleman who opposed him, whose name I do not consider worthy to mention here. These were houses of a different kind from those I am discussing now. It could be said that literally armies of tenants and families lived out their lifetimes and passed through these houses, that the houses were neglected by the owners, that no money was spent on them and they were allowed to run down, to become rotten and rat-infested in every sense of the word.
The other houses, those in Fitzwilliam Street have been occupied for almost the past 40 years by the ESB who have maintained the houses as State companies must maintain their property. Before that, these houses were occupied by a few—possibly one or two—families since they were built. They were at all times well maintained and were in no way comparable with the ratpits of houses we now see falling and which come under the heading of Georgian. The Fitzwilliam Street houses seem to me to be perfectly capable of being put into such condition that they will afford accommodation to people urgently needing it.
If there is any doubt about the housing crisis in Dublin at present I think one facet of it can be brought clearly before the Dáil by an extract which I shall give from the Irish Times of Tuesday, October 7th, on page 7. In columns 9 and 10, there appears the following:
ENTRANCE TO HADES
Late last week as gangs of workmen put up the first strings of coloured lights in Grafton Street a fire was lit in the cavernous room at Griffith Barracks where some 25 mothers and their children eat three times a day. It was the first fire to be lit there this winter. This part of the barracks, opened about a year ago to provide emergency accommodation for homeless families, is segregated from the Army's quarters by a substantial wire fence. As well as the canteen block (which also serves as a recreation room), there is a dormitory block. This is clean and centrally heated but undeniably crowded——