Outsider’s view doesn’t reveal whole picture
CHARLES Townshend’s book, The British Campaign in Ireland, was a classic study of the war from the British perspective. He has also written books on the Easter Rebellion and 20th century Ireland, so his latest book, The Republic: The Fight for Irish Independence is likely to provoke considerable interest.
It is a balanced account in which the author strives to be fair to all sides, but one senses that he is not as comfortable in examining the story from Irish perspectives as he was in dealing with the British side. Sometimes he repeats the findings of earlier studies that have been superseded by more recent works.
The book is divided into four main parts, each running slightly over a hundred pages. They read like a collection of articles with the various themes frequently overlapping. The book is not, therefore, in a strict chronological order. While this makes for easier reading for people familiar with the overall story, it is not the kind of book that one would recommend as an introduction to the topic.
The author is very good on the conscription crisis of 1918, and he covers the initial engagements of the War of Independence in 1919 in the first part of the book. On meeting Dan Breen for the first time, he writes that Séamus Robinson “made a mental note that that man should never be put in charge of a fight”.
The two of them were responsible for the Soloheadbeg ambush that began the War of Independence. Richard Mulcahy, the chief of staff of the IRA, was furious because it upstaged the establishment of Dáil Éireann on the same day.
Robinson told Michael Collins that Tipperary was determined to fight it out. “That’s all right with me,” replied Collins, who had better things to do himself on the day the Dáil was set up. He was busy making arrangements to spring Éamon de Valera from Lincoln jail in the hope that De Valera would lead a military campaign against the British, but the author shows little understanding of the dynamics of the developing relationship between the two men.
When Constable Joseph Murtagh, an off duty policeman, was shot dead in Cork on Mar 19, 1920, Tomás MacCurtain threatened to take disciplinary action. “We cannot have men roaming around armed shooting police,” he warned. The following night, the RIC, under the suspected control of a northern loyalist element, murdered MacCurtain.
Shooting themselves in the foot would be symptomatic of the British side’s behaviour throughout the ensuing conflict. They essentially ensured that the militants took over the nationalist campaign. Days after the murder of MacCurtain, the first of the Black and Tans were introduced.
The second part of the book covers the Black and Tan period in 1920. The author notes that Winston Churchill, the British secretary for war, wished to fight the IRA with air power. But air force chief Hugh Trenchard bluntly dismissed the idea as “both ineffective and highly dangerous”.
Churchill was nevertheless one of the main architects of the British campaign. The Auxiliaries were his brainchild, and he was a strong advocate of using capital punishment.
Townshend singles out Charles Tegart as “a brilliant CID officer”. He had distinguished himself in counterintelligence in Bengal, but the author does not detail Tegart’s recommendations that were anathema to prime minister Lloyd George and Ormonde Winter, the British intelligence chief in Ireland.
Tegart was back in Ireland in 1939 reporting that German submarines were calling regularly to isolated spots around the country. “Local Irishmen accept the visits of U-boats with as common place an air as they accept the sun rise on a fine day,” he noted.
His report noted Germans were buying up interests in the west and the south coast of Ireland, rooting up hedges and levelling fields for landing grounds.
His reports were hysterical nonsense. If he was a “brilliant” intelligence officer, one can only imagine the calibre of the other British intelligence officers during the War of Independence. Little wonder that Michael Collins ran rings around them.!
The third part of the book covers the final Black and Tan period in 1921, the events leading to the Truce, and the ratification of the Anglo-Irish Treaty. Townshend puts forwards the absurd suggestion that De Valera refused to go to London to meet Lloyd George for the Treaty negotiations, because he was president and would be senior to the prime minister. This ignores the fact that De Valera actually headed the Irish delegation which went to meet Lloyd George in July 1921.
The author is particularly weak on the negotiations leading to the 1921 Treaty. He concludes the Treaty negotiations with Lloyd George’s remark, “The Celts were never republicans”. Lloyd George actually said that to De Valera at the beginning of the negotiations in July 1921. Hence, in a sense, the author seems to end with the beginning.
He notes that there were problems over De Valera’s efforts to appoint Austin Stack as deputy chief of staff of the IRA during the truce, but he fails to mention that Stack had actually held that position from November 1919 until the Truce, during which time he never even attended a meeting of the headquarters staff. That was why he was dumped.
The author mentions that 42 loyalist hostages were taken in the North in February 1922, but he does explain that Eoin O’Duffy arranged the whole thing with the approval of Collins.
The hostages were taken to prevent the execution of the three prisoners in Derry, sentences that had been commuted hours earlier.
The author also fails to mention that Seán MacEoin was behind taking 16 constables hostage from Belcoo, Co Fermanagh in late March. They were held until mid-July.
Churchill, who learned they were being held in Athlone, sent British forces to Pettigo, Co Donegal, and took 15 Provisional Government troops prisoner and essentially held them as hostage for the return of the Belcoo constables. The author ignores these hugely significant events.
Lloyd George was greatly disturbed by the actions of both Collins and Churchill in relation to the North, but the author fails to make use of information on these matters. He overlooks the role of Collins in Field Marshall Wilson’s murder, which eventually sparked the Civil War in this country.
He astutely notes, however, that during the Civil War, “the Free State’s repressive actions were more violent than the British had been”. He also concludes by questioning “whether the bloody catalogue of assassinations and war from 1919 to 1921 was necessary to get the Treaty terms”.
“If Irish nationalists had been more flexible over partition,” he believes, “there would have been no Anglo-Irish War, and if Britain had been more flexible over the Free State’s constitution there would have been no civil war.”
The violence did not initiate partition, but he concludes, “it certainly cemented it”. The part played by the northern loyalist element in the murder of Tomás MacCurtain and its repercussions are essentially ignored, and his overall treatment of the involvement of nationalists in the northern offensive of 1922 is rather superficial.
The book, presents an outside perspective that is interesting and thought-provoking, but the significant gaps detract from the overall study. It is therefore disappointing in comparison with his earlier works.


