The offices of the Iona Institute on Merrion Square, Dublin, were the scene of a major security operation this week after director David Quinn opened a letter containing white powder and a menacing message that read “Happy Anthrax.” The letter, which named both Quinn and fellow Iona board member Breda O’Brien, triggered a full Garda and Army bomb squad response on Tuesday afternoon.
Speaking to The Irish Catholic, Quinn described the moment he opened the envelope:
“A package arrived in the normal post around lunchtime. I opened it and white powder flew out onto my hands, the floor, and my desk. The letter said ‘Happy Anthrax’ and named me and Breda O’Brien. More of the powder was enfolded in the letter.”
Although Quinn doubted the substance was real anthrax — “so unlikely anyone in Ireland would be able to source it,” he noted — he immediately contacted Gardaí on the advice of colleagues. Officers arrived within 30 minutes and ordered the evacuation of the building. The Army bomb squad was deployed, cordoning off Merrion Square until the evening.
Quinn said the incident was treated “like a bomb scare” and underlined that “even if it isn’t a bomb, it’s the equivalent of sending someone a suspected one.” Gardaí are continuing to investigate the substance and have not yet confirmed its nature.
Both Quinn and O’Brien stress that this is far from the first time they have been targeted for their Catholic views.
Quinn recalled:
“We have received lots of hate mail down the years, especially during referendum campaigns and when there were eruptions of anger against the Church. I’ve had the odd death threat and have been verbally attacked on the street on and off down the years.”
Breda O’Brien, a teacher and longtime columnist, has similarly faced vitriol. She said that since at least 2014 she has endured “fervent wishes” that she be beaten, contract painful diseases, or even burned alive. She added:
“It was often stated that I was unfit to teach, that I had conspired to cover up clerical child abuse, or that I was responsible for the suicides of young people. The really nasty comments about appearance are constant, as they are for many women in media. Direct death threats were few, thankfully, but the desire to wound is very real.”
She also recalled being shouted at in public and experiencing physical fear during the same-sex marriage referendum campaign: “My younger children feared for my safety at that time, too.”
Both Quinn and O’Brien acknowledged the chilling effect such hostility can have on free speech. O’Brien said:
“I abhor the threats to politicians, especially the ugly, vile threats to their children. Many will be driven out of politics, and the same is true for those of us with unpopular opinions. Who would willingly subject their families to this abuse?”
Quinn added that the latest attack was clearly intended “to frighten and intimidate us” and pointed to “a lot of anti-Catholicism out there” that has persisted for years.
What is striking is the lack of political acknowledgement. This week, as the Dáil resumed after the summer recess, TDs lined up to condemn online abuse and threats directed at ministers and their families. But not one mentioned that prominent Catholics in Ireland are also being subjected to threats — including packages made to look like anthrax or bombs. If the same happened at the National Women’s Council or some other liberal lobby group the outrage from the political class would be a top news story.
O’Brien says, “the Guards are more alert now, partly because of threats against politicians and also because of the Charlie Kirk assassination abroad.” Yet when it comes to the intimidation of Catholic voices, there has been silence in Leinster House.
The anthrax scare at the Iona Institute is only the latest reminder of the toxic climate faced by people who express unpopular religious views in public. Politicians rightly condemn threats against themselves. But when Catholics are sent hoax bombs and threatened with death, the silence from the political class is predicable.
