St. Pally's day

Was Saint Patrick the biggest snake of them all? A fake? A bold self-publicist who hoodwinked a nation? That’s probably a bit over the top, yet the notion that we beatified the wrong bloke certainly isn’t. We probably should be raising a glass to a different man on March 17.

Historians bluntly call it The Problem of Saint Patrick and the kernel of it is this: 1573 years ago a chap called Palladius was sent to Ireland by Pope Celestine 1st. His mission, as the first bishop of Ireland, was to check out how well Catholicism was going down and to make the religion as trendy as possible among barbarian Irish folk.
At some point, another chap called Patrick dropped by, wrote two books, and ended up taking all the credit for changing our pagan ways. Problem is, Patrick was not a great one for dates. It is notoriously hard to pin his texts down to a year, a decade, or even a century. So we don’t know if he got here before or after Palladius. The plot thickens as Palladius vanished mysteriously two years after he got here. One went on to become our national Saint. The other was wiped from the pages of history while we went to the pub to get drunk.
NUI Galway Professor Dáibhí ?‘Cróinín is a big Palladius fan. He explains: “We start with the year 431. The problem is that the 431 date in Prosper’s Chronicle, though fairly reliable, does not actually mention Patrick. It mentions our friend Palladius and that’s what starts the whole ball rolling. Pope Celestine 1st was the pope that sent Palladius to Ireland. He was on an official mission – sent to the Irish believing in Christ, as their first bishop – that’s the really important thing. It’s not just that he arrived here. He was sent by the Pope.”
When you put that up against Patrick’s credentials – his own texts – the Saint looks a tad more like a sinner.
Professor ?‘Cróinín continues: “Patrick has a real problem - his mission seems to be slightly dubious in terms of the authority he had. He is forever saying ‘well really I am a bishop, lads’ which a fellow would only say if it was doubted he was a proper bishop. If he had been sent by the pope he would only have to say ‘Look, fuck off, I’m here, I’m number one, get lost’.”
And so it appears that we may have been going to mass before Patrick even got off the ferry.
Over to the historian again: “In official terms there’s no question that Palladius is the main guy. It’s not that you often get a full blown papal commission. Not that many guys get sent out by the boss himself in the Vatican. Palladius definitely was. It’s a serious commission and I’m sure he survived long enough to put down some kind of roots, and Christianity has survived.
“If he had survived another ten years, or if his reputation had not been swamped by that of Patrick, we would really be celebrating something other than March 17.
“He was unlucky. It’s almost certain that he did come, and survived, and work for whatever length of time, then died. Unfortunately at that point the story went cold and when it was revived again it was buried in the Patrick stuff. It’s bad luck for the poor guy.”
Three years ago Professor ?‘Cróinín found texts written by Palladius which reveal a rare individual, centuries ahead of his time.
Professor ?‘Cróinín explains: “The texts he composed are stunning. They are the nearest thing to radical socialism that you could get anywhere in the church. He is fiercely anti-wealth, fiercely anti the oppression of the lower classes that was part and parcel of the Roman Empire, it’s most unusual. It reads like Marx – maybe that’s why he was sent to Ireland, he proved to be more than a handful for the guys in Rome. The texts I found are incredibly egalitarian and socialist in their thinking. When you see the state of things now, the church could do with a dose of Palladius.”
If you’re looking for another pastoral staff with which to beat Patrick, then consider this. Professor ?‘Cróinín reckons most of what you and me heard about Saint Patrick in school is bullshit.
“I would say 90 percent is fiction,” he says. “Almost the whole thing has been cooked, very likely in the early stages. Cooked by the folks in Armagh who had an agenda. They are trying to establish themselves as number one and take over the Patrick legend and do their best to suppress Palladius and anything to do with him.”
Sadly, Palladius and Patrick are not here to defend themselves, so it’s only fair to say a good word for the national Saint, what with his big day just around the corner and all.
“There is the possibility that Patrick was here before Palladius,” admits the Professor. “Palladius is being sent to those Irish who believed in Christ. You ask yourself, who converted them? It raises any number of possibilities. One of them certainly is that the man we call Patrick might have done it.
“He’s talking about the many thousands of people he converted, he’s talking about going places where no men went before – he actually uses that famous phrase you get in Star Trek. The trouble is that though we have Patrick’s writings he doesn’t give us any dates and he doesn’t mention anybody we can pin down and identify so we’re guessing.”
Another possible Paddy could also be the one who did the job. “I would imagine there were Irish people in the Roman army at some stage,” says Professor ?‘Cróinín. “It’s mooted as one of the ways Christian religion came here. You might have had converts who signed off from the army and come back home and bring the religion with them. It’s one of a number of possibilities.”
And, for now, Palladius is set to remain just that – a possibility.
“There’s no reason why somebody shouldn’t open up some manuscript in Europe tomorrow and hey presto – you might have another chapter in Irish history,” says Professor ?‘Cróinín. But meanwhile, “He’s an absolutely fundamental first stepping stone in our history so the poor old fellow deserves a little more recognition. We have the date for Palladius, which is precious. It’s just that we can’t be absolutely sure about the other man.”
And in the true egalitarian style that Palladius himself would admire, Professor ?‘Cróinín suggests we raise a glass to both men on March 17. He grins: “It’ll give you an excuse for a second pint.” I’ll drink to that.