THE good tidings were borne three days before Christmas.

After 14 years of falling-down prefabs, Scoil na Camóige was going to get a home.

Somebody from Mary Harney's office rang the principal of the gaelscoil in Clondalkin, Dublin, to deliver the good news.

The acquisition of a site by the Department of Education had nothing to do directly with Harney, whose portfolio is health, but one of the bonuses of cabinet is an early 'good news warning'. On the cusp of an election year, she was in a position to deliver the word to 150 families in the heart of her Dublin Mid-West constituency.

The good news, however, turned out to be bad. Any kudos the minister was hoping to gain melted into the traffic clogging up the west Dublin suburb. And the plight of Scoil na Camóige is a perfect illustration of New Ireland's approach to education.

The school was established 14 years ago in Clondalkin village, on the grounds of Áras Chrónáin, an Irish-language trust. It was set up in prefabs on the tarmac in the áras, and before long, it had established a reputation for delivering a first-class education.

As estates mushroomed up around the then sedate village, numbers multiplied.

There are now 220 pupils, the vast majority of whom live within 10 minutes' walk of the school. Lenora Leonard has three children attending.

"My eldest started seven years ago and I'd heard terrific reports about it, " she says. "We actually moved to be near it because of its reputation and its links to the rest of the village. Clondalkin has a great community aspect to it."

However, as its reputation grew, the conditions within the gaelscoil deteriorated.

The prefabs remain. There is one urinal to serve over 100 boys, and another single facility for the same number of girls. Dry rot frequently brings misery. Leaks spring.

There are holes in the floor, and in the senior infants classroom, it's difficult to ignore the smell of urine. What passes for the school's office used to be a closet until needs must.

"I'm here 10 years and we worked tooth and nail to create a school, " principal Ultan Mac Mathúna says. "We've managed to do that but over 200 kids here today, and all those who went through before them, have never known anything but prefabs."

Over the years, efforts were expended to acquire a site.

Like others elsewhere, the school found itself in competition with property developers. The failure of proper planning to keep pace with development meant that sites in the village quickly moved beyond the financial reach of the Department of Education. At least two sites in the vicinity of the village were identified in the past six years. Neither was acquired, and both now house towering apartment blocks.

The option of acquiring a site on the grounds of Áras Chrónáin, effectively replacing the prefabs with a permanent structure, was also looked at. The Sunday Tribune understands the áras was willing to sell a 0.93-acre site for around Euro1.3m to the department, a sum that wouldn't be out of line with market expectations.

However, in reply to a series of questions, the department initially said the site wasn't on offer and then stated that the asking price exceeded the market value. It also claimed that the site was too small, although other schools of a similar size operate professionally out of the same footprint.

Then, last year, as the school building programme picked up pace in the run-up to the election, Scoil na Camóige crawled up the list of priorities. A site was finally identified and acquired from Dublin's Vocational Education Committee. The good news was conveyed by phone from Harney's office to Mac Mathúna.

"At first, I was delighted to just get a new school, " he says.

"This place is literally falling apart."

The reaction among parents was the polar opposite.

After the initial euphoria of sighting dry land faded, an examination of the proposed location brought dismay. The department was intent on moving the school two miles away, onto the grounds of Deansrath Community College.

For most of the parents, the move would signal the death knell for the school as they knew it. Hazel Baker has one son in the gaelscoil and a daughter in pre-school. Her other son requires specialneeds education and is picked up by a bus every morning.

The proposed move would mean the end of her family's association with the school.

"I was anxious for them to get a site when my son started, " she said. "But then when it happened? Deansrath is miles away, I simply couldn't do it. I'd have to take my son out and try to get him into one of the other schools in the village."

That option mightn't be available to many parents, due to pressure on numbers with a burgeoning population of young families in the area.

Lenora Leonard says she too would have to restructure her life beyond recognition to continue her children's education in the school.

"It would be a logistical nightmare, " she says. "That two miles away is at least 45 minutes at that hour of the morning. The links the school has with the community in Clondalkin would also be gone. We badly want the school to stay in the village."

Initially, Mac Mathúna and the board of management were pleased that at last they would have a proper school.

But the depth of opposition from parents won them over.

"The groundswell is that we must maintain the school in the village and we'll support the parents 100%. Their reaction is an indication of how special the school is, " he says.

Snarling traffic and the sundering of the school from the village community are the principal reasons for the voracious opposition to what was expected to be a hugely positive move. Lurking beneath the surface, there are also socio-economic currents.

Deansrath is a socially disadvantaged area. Security for the gaelscoil site was raised as an issue by the board of management. That it was felt necessary to raise it speaks volumes. There are security patrols around the adjoining community college at Deansrath. The new site includes a playing pitch attached to the community college, although the department says this pitch will be relocated within the grounds.

The possibility of tension between the second-level students, who would be drawn from the locality, and the gaelscoil pupils, either driven or bussed in from Clondalkin, couldn't be discounted. While parents are reluctant to talk about these issues, they do tug beneath the surface of the predominant objections.

Politically, the furore is dynamite in an election year.

Harney's initial grasp for glory has been overtaken by a rush among candidates to line themselves up with parents. Fine Gael's Frances Fitzgerald has described the proposed move as a massive blow to the village.

"The fact that Scoil na Camóige may be relocated to an alternative site outside Clondalkin village is a shocking example of bad planning and is undoubtedly a step in the wrong direction when it comes to sustainable development of communities, " she said.

The Greens' Paul Gogarty has made similar running, referring in particular to the further traffic congestion that will result.

Harney herself has now come onside. She met with parents last week and informed them that she had been in touch with education minister Mary Hanafin about the matter. Others have been less vocal, but the heat is expected to increase in the coming months.

What the affair does highlight once again is the hierarchy of interests that appears to prevail in the state at the moment. Bad planning has relegated the education of children to an afterthought in the booming economy. Property developers point the way forward, while the state's leaders throw their hands up in the air. Nothing to do with me, guv.