When an original letter of surrender by the 1916 Rebels, penned by Patrick Pearse, went up for auction last Tuesday, the government did not even muster a bid. Instead, the letter went to an anonymous bidder, thought to be based in continental Europe, who paid EURO700,000 ($861,000) to secure it.
Given the circumstances of the sale, it is no surprise that there are real fears the paper might now be removed from Ireland. That is a poor fate for a precious document that was rescued from Pearse’s prison cell during the events that ultimately led to the creation of the modern Irish state.
Those who seek to defend the government’s lack of interest point out that there are already two similar letters in the possession of Ireland’s National Museum. Those who wish the outcome of the auction had been different counter that the document is believed to have been the last one composed by Pearse.
But the point here is not really whether there are a handful of similar documents. Nor is it whether buying the document would or would not have been “worth the money.”
The issue is that different rules apply to history. Historical objects have an intrinsic value, not quantifiable in euros (or dollars) and cents, and it ill behooves the government of any nation to let priceless documents slip through its grasp.
Yes, there will always be less abstract projects that require public money. And it will always be easier to make the argument for government investment in roads, or housing, or healthcare, than in historical documents.
But that does not mean history should be neglected. As is repeatedly made clear by example, when the political will exists to do something, the money can be found to pay for it. Money could and should have been found to secure Pearse’s letter for the Irish people.
It is a cause for dismay that the government could not show more passion about a rare artifact marking such a momentous event.