Clodagh Finn: Where is the Irish Housewives Association when you need it?

If it were still with us, we would have made much more progress on price-gouging and spiralling food bills.

The organisation came into being the last time food inflation was this high — during the Second World War, or “the Emergency” as we called it — and, under the stewardship of Hilda Tweedy and Andrée Sheehy-Skeffington, it chalked up success after success.

It’s impressive to revisit its long list of campaigns and forgotten achievements, if absolutely mind-boggling to recall that this group, now considered so anodyne, was once accused of causing riots on O’Connell St in Dublin.

On 12 April 1952, the Roscommon Herald suggested the IHA was partly responsible for the clashes that broke out after some 20,000 people attended an anti-budget protest in the capital days earlier.

The article said the association’s activities — it had protested at the rise in the cost of living due to the removal of food subsidies — was one of a number of “disturbing trends in Ireland”. 

It went on to claim the IHA had always been used as a medium of expression by Marxists, communists, or fellow-travellers, warning: 

It is a mistake to play into the hands of these people.” 

That seems incredible now, but in the Cold War era of the 1950s, fear of communism was running high.

It’s more difficult to explain opposition to the Irish housewives’ campaign for children’s school meals, although any measure that impinged on the untouchable sphere of family was questioned by the church.

As outlined in Hilda Tweedy’s memoir, A Link in the Chain: “During a campaign that demanded school meals for children, one Reverend gentleman said that the Irish Housewives Association would be breaking up the sanctity of the home if children were to be fed at school.” 

Yet, the IHA fought on to protect housewives who were, according to one commentator, “so long held at the mercy of trade and till”.

Basic but important issues addressed

Look through the annals of its 50 years of campaigning and you’ll find much to inspire in these days of rising prices.

It all started in 1941 with what became known as the Housewives’ Petition. 

A small group of women sent a pre-budget submission to every Dáil member demanding fair prices for consumers and suppliers as well as the fair distribution of food. The government responded with rationing and food coupons. The lobby grew into an organisation and achievement followed achievement.

Here are some examples from 1945: “Three victories: potato prices reduced by ten pence per stone: price of oranges evidence presented to Department; government appoints Tribunal of inquiry into Dublin milk supply and IHA presents evidence.” 

The IHA was an evidence-gathering body and presented its findings on a range of issues — food prices, supply, food hygiene, tax, trade practices, labelling, the flammability of children’s clothing — to government in an attempt to shape policy.

It forged links with other organisations to strengthen its voice. As early as the 1950s, it sent delegates to International Alliance of Women conferences around Europe to learn more on housing, social services, consumer protection, and energy sources, to mention a few.

In 1961, it hosted the international event in Dublin, welcoming over 350 candidates.

At home, it worked with several groups, from the Food Hygiene Advisory Committee and Buy Irish Committee to Dublin City Council and the National Consumer Advisory Council.

In essence, what Hilda Tweedy and the IHA did was to show that women could influence State policy when they came together. As historian Margaret MacCurtain put it: “They taught the ‘housewife’ to claim her rights.” 

And, more importantly, they became links in a chain — to explain the title of Hilda Tweedy’s book — that brought together women from a range of backgrounds. 

To quote Margaret MacCurtain again: “The coalitions of interest that women developed in the middle decades of the twentieth century prepared the climate for establishing the Council for the Status of Women.” 

It’s not a surprise, then, to see that Hilda Tweedy became the council’s first chairwoman. She’ll be recalled, no doubt, later in the year when the 50th anniversary of the council (now the National Women’s Council of Ireland) is celebrated in June.

Speaking of anniversaries, as we mark 50 years of EU membership, how many remember that the Irish government sought an exemption from legislation requiring all member states to pay men and women equally? 

The then Minister for Foreign Affairs Garret FitzGerald sought a derogation on the grounds that Ireland couldn’t afford it.

What happened next? Well, Hilda Tweedy went to Europe and kicked up a fuss.

Here’s how this paper reported it on February 10, 1976: “Hilda Tweedy, Chairwoman of the Council for the Status of Women, flew to Strasbourg yesterday where the European Parliament is now in session, to protest against any postponement of equal pay for equal work, which is now the law here, or the introduction of any legislation discriminating against women… 

“Mrs Tweedy says they are approaching the EEC because, in spite of the public outcry and the efforts made by women’s organisations and trade unions, the Council for the Status of Women realises that the Government is still not willing to honour their commitment to equal pay for equal work.” 

The government did not get its derogation.

I think of that whenever anyone ever asks: “What did the EU ever do for us?” We might quote it too if anyone ever asks what Irish housewives ever did for us?

Revise the term

That brings us to the difficult term, “housewife”. As several respondents to my small-sample and unscientific straw poll said: “No one can marry a house.” Fatally flawed as it is, my ad-hoc survey does appear to reflect a widespread view that it’s time to retire the word housewife.

It’s seen as old-fashioned, patronising, reductive, and negative. And yet, the work done by people previously known as housewives is still highly valued. The title of Ann Oakley’s 1970s analysis of the unpaid work done in the home still applies: Housewife: High Value – Low Cost.

So what do we call these invaluable people? Caregivers, home-makers or stay-at-home mums/dads don’t seem expansive enough to reflect the powerhousing achievements of women and men who nurture the next generation in the home.

What about societal linchpin? Way too clunky.

Child wrangler and underappreciated meal-magician? A bit too close to the bone, perhaps.

Multi-tasking superstar? Better.

Now, it’s over to you.

Can you think of a word that captures the importance — and immensity — of the unpaid work done in the home?