When Russian state television broadcast a simulation last week of a 100-megaton nuclear weapon exploding underwater off the coast of Donegal and engulfing Ireland in a 500-metre-high tsunami, Frank Deegan from Co Waterford was unimpressed.
Deegan, a founding member of the Irish Survivalist Group, has his own hazmat radiation suit, a biological mask and four months’ worth of dried food and water ready in case of a nuclear incident. He also has access to a bunker, although he is keeping shtum on its location in case of a scramble for places if the worst comes to pass.
“Why would you use an experimental underwater drone off the Irish coast when you could simply bomb Britain directly? I thought that Russian video was all pie in the sky,” he said.
In terms of preparation, Deegan hasn’t quite moved to Defcon One yet but then he’s always ready for the worst, whether it’s a hurricane, meteor strike, pandemic or nuclear attack. “The far more likely scenario facing Ireland is an attack on Britain that could devastate Ireland if the wind blows the wrong way,” he said.
Joe Jacob, then a junior minister, was pilloried in the wake of the September 11 attacks in 2001 for failing to articulate a clear plan in the event of a nuclear emergency during a radio interview with Marian Finucane on RTE, and Deegan doesn’t think we are any better prepared now as a country. “At least we all got iodine tablets then but they expired in 2005. I have bought my own on Amazon in the meantime,” the survivalist said.
In the 1960s and 1970s, the Civil Defence issued booklets informing Irish households what to do in the event of a nuclear incident. Although the advice didn’t extend much beyond staying indoors, preferably under the stairs, the public was told to store it carefully as it “could mean the difference between life and death”.
In the absence of such literature today, what should the public do in the case of a nuclear event? In 2019 the Department of the Environment published a plan on how Ireland would deal with a “major nuclear or radiological incident abroad”. People were advised to stay indoors for the first 24 to 48 hours and check nuclear.ie, a government website that would spring into action. “Get In – Stay In – Tune In” is the key message.
While the website currently redirects to gov.ie, a government spokesman said the authorities were “closely monitoring the evolving situation in Ukraine”. This doesn’t reassure Deegan. “A nuclear bomb will usually cause an electromagnetic pulse that will take out communications, so goodbye electricity, phone and internet,” he said. Deegan has a ham radio to stay in touch with the outside world, a gas stove for cooking and torches, lamps and candles in the event of a blackout.
In 2018, the Irish government did simulate a catastrophic biological attack on the capital to test the authorities’ emergency response times. At 7am on a Tuesday morning, a dirty bomb went off in the Convention Centre on Dublin’s north quays. Five hours later another went off in Leinster House causing “multiple fatalities” including “many foreign nationals”.
The test, involving officials from the Department of Justice, the Environmental Protection Agency and the gardai, revealed gaping holes in Ireland’s preparedness. There was disagreement over where to place a cordon in the city to protect the public. There were also clashes over whether to convene the National Emergency Co-ordination Group, a high level group of officials from across the state. Tensions also brewed about how much information to disclose to other countries who wanted to find out if their citizens were among the dead. The simulation demonstrated that the emergency team couldn’t release their names, as that power is reserved for the state coroner.
A similar simulation of a nuclear event has never taken place, although in the 1960s plans were drawn up to create a nuclear shelter with space for 300 key officials under Custume army barracks in Athlone, Co Westmeath, where there is already a concrete bunker. The fallout shelter was never built, although the existing Athlone bunker can still accommodate up to 100 people for a short period so it could be an option for the government in the event of a catastrophic incident.
Not that the government thinks any of this is likely. Each year it publishes a national risk assessment (NRA), with the chances of a nuclear incident in Britain “broadly considered to be low” and the likelihood of an easterly wind meaning radioactive plumes would likely travel away from Ireland.
Caroline McMullan, a lecturer in emergency management at DCU, who has helped draft NRAs, said a nuclear attack on Ireland had been considered but not included in the final report as it wasn’t considered to be a “reasonable worst case scenario”, although that could change in the next report.
There are also no plans to reissue the public with iodine tablets in the wake of the Russian threat. An analysis by the Radiological Protection Institute of Ireland several years ago found the provision of the tablets, which cost the government €630,000 in 2002, could not be justified given the receding risk of a nuclear event. “The decision not to re-issue iodine tablets has been taken on the basis of the low risk of a radioactive iodine release and in the context of best international practice, which does not recommend general household distribution other than in the immediate vicinity of a nuclear reactor,” the Department of Health said at the time.
Deegan thinks this is short-sighted, as the tablets can help block radioactive iodine from being absorbed by the thyroid gland. “We live in one of the safest countries in the world in terms of natural or manmade disasters, but that’s no reason to be complacent,” Deegan said. “A lot of people say it’s never going to happen, but that’s what the Ukrainians were saying about a Russian invasion a few months ago.”
