
Evening Herald, 15 May 1968.
Much will be written in the weeks ahead internationally about May 1968, and the student demonstrations which gripped France. They have achieved something of a legendary status in popular culture, with the striking graphic posters and slogans of the student movement finding their way into mainstream consciousness. La barricade ferme la rue mais ouvre la voie appeared on Parisian walls, declaring that ‘the barricade blocks the street but opens the way.’
The Stone Roses later adopted the iconic lemon logo of the band on the basis of singer Ian Brown’s obsession with the May ’68 events, learning that lemons were carried by student demonstrators who believed them to nullify the effects of tear gas. Brown recalled that:
When we were in Paris we met this 65-year-old man who told us that if you suck a lemon it cancels out the effects of CS gas. He still thought that the government in France could be overthrown one day; he’d been there in ’68 and everything. So he always carried a lemon with him so he could help out at the front. Sixty-five – what a brilliant attitude.
Of course, angry students were not confined to the occupied universities of Paris in 1968. In the United States, students formed an important part of the Civil Rights movement, while in the North of Ireland People’s Democracy emerged in the later stage of the year, primarily from young activists in Queens University Belfast. To be a student in 1968, it seemed, was to be an activist.
For what it’s worth, the students in France didn’t think much of the Ireland of the day. At several occupations, they watched the film The Rocky Road to Dublin, Peter Lennon’s great documentary that asked the fundamentally important question of “what do you do with your revolution once you’ve got it?” The film was shown at the Cannes Film Festival, which came to an abrupt end that year owing to the discontent that swept the country. It inspired more than one fierce debate in an occupied classroom.
In Dublin, Trinity College Dublin students made headlines in 1968 for their opposition to the visit of King Baudouin of Belgium to the university. It was a time when there was something of a buzz around the Left on the campus, with John Stephenson later recalling how “in the mid-sixties there was a pronounced progressive tendency in the student body. Not since the Forties Prometheans had there been such a strong Leftist surge.” Central to the story were the Internationalists, a small Maoist grouping on campus who troubled the college authorities and puzzled some in the press beyond the walls of the university that had produced Edmund Burke and Edward Carson. Nusight reported that they “lived communally, shared all their earnings, rose at a certain time for pre-breakfast study sessions, and often worked an 18 hour day bill-posting around the city or stapling magazines.”

Trinity News coverage of the event.
A great introduction to the Internationalists comes from Dublin Opinion, detailing the origins of the small Maoist organisation inside the university. They produced a periodical Words and Comment, and became heavily active in political campaigns both inside and outside the university. They attracted the immediate suspicion of the Trinity News publication, who sought to prevent them as cultish, telling readers in November 1967 that “it is seemingly against ’party policy’ to establish emotional ties with anyone outside their ideology. Marriage and other stable relationships are disapproved of if they take up time and energy that could be used to further the aims of the group.”
In truth, they reflected the growing popularity of Maoism among student radicals across the European continent, who grew increasingly weary of the Soviet Union in light of the Sino-Soviet split, and found much inspiration in the Chinese Cultural Revolution. To the students in France, the French Communist Party was old and stale, and the Soviet Union corrupted. Mao’s image adorned the courtyard of the occupied Sorbonne in Paris, just as he appeared in the pages of the Internationalists publications in Dublin. Not all in the university shared the enthusiasm of the Internationalists for Mao, evident from reports like this one:

Trinity News, February 1968.
The King of Belgium arriving in Dublin was the first time Royalty of any kind had stepped foot on Irish soil (in the 26 Counties at least) since the departure of the British Empire. King Baudouin arrived in Ireland and did all the things a visiting head of state does, right down to playing a bit of hurling with the Taoiseach, Jack Lynch. The media were hopeful the world would see all of this, as in the words of The Irish Times it would “serve as a reminder to one of the members of the EEC, and indirectly to the other five, not only of our political existence but of our individuality.”
Belgium’s historic role in the Congo did not win it favour with the student radicals of the day, who very much pointed the figure of blame at the country for the killing of independent Congo’s first prime minister, Patrice Lumumba. Lumumba was a popular anti-colonial figure who became a martyr in the eyes of a radicalised generation of students. When the King arrived in Trinity College Dublin to view the Book of Kells on 14 May, students from the Internationalists awaited with a banner declaring in French “Lumumba killed by Belgian imperialists.” Police moved in to clear the banner, leading to some scenes of minor violence.
The Herald wrote:
A three-deep “blue wall” of uniformed Gardaí clashed head-on with hundreds of wildly demonstration students chanting anti-Belgian slogans and waving banners at Trinity College today, while the King and Queen of the Belgians were visiting the college. Several hundred Gardaí moved in to reinforce the big concentration inside the college as scuffles broke out between Gardaí and a small group of students chanting ‘Down with Belgian Imperialism.’
Things quickly spiraled out of control, certainly there were innocent bystanders caught in the melee as hundreds of Gardaí descended on Trinity, and a protest the later condemning the violence and the bias of the Evening Herald article was much larger than the initial demonstration. The student protesters were condemned by their own, with Trinity News proclaiming:
There is no doubt at all that the police were justified in moving in to break up the demonstration – their duty was to protect the Royal couple. Whether the police used too much force is a matter of opinion. But it must be remembered that many of them were in a situation that they never handled before, so panic was inevitable.

Protesting students at the office of the Evening Herald.
To some, the scenes in Trinity College were frightening evidence of a student radicalism creeping into Dublin that was not unlike that witnessed in France. Trinity College met the Internationalists head on, suspending leading members from the university, though the Provost insisted there were “few colleges more democratic than this.” The presence of an Internationalist bookshop led to the headline ‘MAO BADGES FREE WITH BOOKS’, while a retired army officer eve announced that “in my opinion foreign students who riot or demonstrate with violence should be deported.” Trinity was not quite the Sorbonne, but maybe some in the Evening Herald wished it was.

Evening Herald, October 1968.
[…] https://comeheretome.com/2018/03/20/bye-bye-badman-king-baudouin-in-tcd/ […]