Official exhumation of remains from a mass grave in Tuam, Ireland, has started. This major step forward helps to bring long-overdue justice to a painful chapter of the country’s past. The Tuam institution, like many others, operated from 1925-1961, during which time almost 800 children died there, most buried in a mass grave. Official records listed these deaths as resulting from malnutrition or marked the children as “imbeciles.” This effort is long overdue and comes after years of advocacy and finding out. It addresses the demands for greater accountability from the participating institutions.
The saga started back in 2014 when Catherine Corless, a local historian, first discovered the death certificates of children who died at the Tuam facility. Her findings pointed to the likely presence of a mass grave on the site, sparking a public outcry and interest. Despite skepticism from some quarters, most notably Terry Prone, a representative of a PR firm who warned a French television journalist that “You’ll find no mass grave, no evidence that children were ever so buried,” the quest for truth has gained momentum.
Peter Mulryan, a survivor of the Tuam institution, described it as “ground zero” for the abuses that occurred within these mother-and-baby homes. He loves the site and passionately advocates for excavating it. More than that, he wants to discover what’s been truthfully buried underneath that soil. Speaker Mulryan told the harrowing story of his own experience, where he was boarded out to a farm and subject to horrific exploitation. He told TTC that he wanted justice, not just for himself but for others who have died in similar situations to his own.
The Bon Secours religious order operated the institution in Tuam. Now they find themselves embedded within an international healthcare behemoth, worth billions of dollars in the US alone. This legitimate connection has raised questions about accountability and responsibility in terms of addressing our past. Activists such as Izzy Kamikaze have mobilized to push for more investigation into what happened. They found a historic map that shows cesspools on the property, which are thought to hold burial sites.
Catherine Corless has given her moving account of her personal journey to uncover the Tuam tragedy. She recently learned that she had a sister, never spoken about by the institution, who perished there. For more than 10 years, she worked to bring recognition to and justice for those lost in this dark history.
The Commission of Investigation into Mother and Baby Homes recently revealed this heartbreaking reality. An estimated 9,000 children died in various institutions throughout Ireland, including Tuam. More than 50,000 mothers lost the child within them or died in the process. Their suffering stands as a haunting testament to our recent history that should never be forgotten. So many women were forced into these homes to have births, virtually imprisoned and removed from their child.
Their public outcry and continued investigations have not spared thousands of survivors from being left out of the official redress scheme. This exclusion just seems to be a penny-pinching move. This has drawn criticism from many quarters. Mulryan’s case is all too common with this injustice—in his case he has still received no apology or other redress for what he experienced.
Julia Devaney, a former domestic worker at Tuam, described the institution as barracks-like and characterized by “smelling wet beds of frightened and deprived children.” Her testimony illuminates the systemic indifference that children suffer in these institutions.
A 1970s technical drawing marked part of the location as an “old children’s burial ground.” Years later, an advocate made a pitch to turn that space into a playground. This new discovery complicates the existing and ongoing public conversations about the site’s history even further.
As the exhumation gets closer, authorities have removed the children’s playground next to the burial site in order to make this process easier. In addition to justice for these victims, the excavation hopes to reclaim the remains of those who never stopped suffering in silence for far too long. On the ground sentiments reflect a broader yearning for dignity in death for these lost children.
“Dig those bodies up, every one of them, all over the country. Give the children some dignity.” – Unnamed man
The impact of this exhumation goes far beyond Tuam. But while its economic fortunes have prospered too, that’s because of its racist past. This should prompt even larger questions of whether we have fully recognized the tragedy that occurred on these lands.
Former President of Ireland Mary McAleese remarked on the broader societal silence surrounding these issues: “We heard it through the media, we heard it through the courage of victims, we heard it through lawyers, we heard it through government. We never really heard it openly, spontaneously from our church.” This reflection serves as an important reminder of the need for transparency and accountability as we look ahead.
Terry Prone’s early attempts to deny the existence of a mass grave look increasingly out of touch with the mounting evidence and survivor testimonies. The growing narrative around Tuam is a unique moment of collective reckoning with Ireland’s past and present and an often very urgent call for justice.