Galway has lost many of its great characters and citizens in recent years — those vivid, unruly, generous spirits who animated the city’s great ongoing soap opera. Each departure has thinned the patchwork a little more. These were people who might have disagreed ferociously on politics, art, or the proper way to make the perfect pot of tea, but together they helped shape a city that has always prided itself on principled dissent, on argument, on action. Galway has always needed its contrarians, its believers, its dreamers. Margaretta D’Arcy was one of the finest of them.
To say she was instantly recognisable is almost an understatement. Margaretta wore each of her causes on her sleeve — and, just as often, on her face. There was no hiding what she cared about; there was no disguising her sense of outrage or concern, and no dimming the beautiful, disarming smile that followed close behind. Even in her later years, when poor health might reasonably have slowed someone else, she remained a familiar and determined presence. One could spot her navigating the treacherous cobblestones of Galway’s streets with characteristic purpose, on her way to do something that — in her view — might genuinely make the world a little better. She was usually right.
In a city where activism is part of the DNA, Margaretta was a rock star. She earned her stripes at Greenham Common, fearlessly opposing nuclear militarisation long before it was fashionable. She stood with Shell to Sea in Mayo, and at Shannon she faced down the might of the US military presence — not from a distance, but on the runway itself. She went to prison for her beliefs, and when asked to sign a bond to keep away from “unauthorised zones,” she refused. Principles mattered more than convenience; integrity outweighed comfort.
The “Guantánamo Granny,” as she was christened, was cherished in Galway. People recognised in her not only defiance but humanity. She was a regular contributor to this newspaper, as was her late husband, the playwright John Arden. Together they left a remarkable mark on the cultural landscape — in essays, in plays, in films, and in the rich intellectual life they helped nurture in the city.
Her memoirs, her novels, her countless plays, and her tireless community projects spoke to a lifetime of commitment. She believed that art was not only a mirror to society but a tool to change it, to challenge it, to awaken it. For her, theatre was activism and activism was theatre — each demanding a full-bodied, full-hearted presence.
Even in the last year of her life, she remained utterly herself. When, because of its ongoing links with Israeli companies, she returned her University of Galway honorary doctorate to the campus last month, complete with robes and scroll handed back to a startled security guard , she did so not out of ceremony but conviction. She wanted clarity, accountability, and above all, integrity. It was classic Margaretta: principled, theatrical, and entirely sincere.
She was one of the oldest candidates in Galway’s 2024 local elections, running on a platform that was equal parts bold, playful, and deadly serious: “mad, bad and dangerous.” She was doing her bit for women, for diversity, for the marginalised voices she had championed her entire life.
With her passing, Galway loses one of its brightest, fiercest, and most loving spirits. She lived fully, creatively, and courageously. She gave this city more than most of us ever will. And, in doing so, she made Galway richer, kinder, braver.
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a h’anam.
To her Finn, Adam, Neuss, our deepest sympathies and our gratitude for sharing this remarkable woman with this city.
