The Irish government recently passed legislation that provided a
pardon for members of the Irish armed forces who deserted during the
Second World War (the Emergency in Ireland). Some at least of these men
went to Britain to join the armed forces there. Others went to work in
the war industries as many other Irish citizens also did. We do not have
a reliable breakdown of the number who joined the British forces and
those who went to work, but it is possible that a majority went to
fight. Irish military officials certainly considered that many of those
who deserted did so because there was not longer a threat to Ireland and
were looking for adventure or a challenge (see The Irish Defence Forces 1940-1949: The Chief of Staff's Reports edited by Michael Kennedy and Victor Lang, 2011).
At
the end of the war the then government (led by Eamon de Valera)
introduced punitive legislation to punish these individuals. It is
estimated that about 5000 men were involved and most of their names and
addresses are available. It remains a sensitive issue and what the
government did was remove them from military discipline (under which
those arrested in Ireland were convicted) and make a political issue of
the matter.
A distinction needs to be made between those who
deserted and the much larger group of men and women who volunteered to
join the British war effort and who were not penalised by the Irish
government in this way. There has been some confusion about this in the
British press where it was assumed that all those who fought for Britain
were penalised. This was not so, although most of those who did so did
not remain in Ireland after the war.
This remains a controversial topic and an article by historian Diarmaid Ferriter is quite defensive on the topic of neutrality (Irish Times
May 11 2013). Ferriter seeks to justify Irish neutrality on pragmatic
grounds and is dismissive of the Minister for Justice's view that it was
'a principle of moral bankruptcy'. This defensiveness is widely shared
and leads to the position of defending not only neutrality (for which a
case can be made) but every aspect of the policy between 1939 and 1945
(which may also include de Valera's visit to the German Minister in
Dublin to offer his government's condolences on the death of Hitler).
There are good grounds for criticising some aspects of Irish neutrality
during this period (as I have done in my own book The Emergency, 2006) and it is disappointing that it seems quite difficult to have a serious debate on the issue.
A
case in point can be seen from the debate on this issue at the National
Library of Ireland last year. The debate is available at:
http://vimeo.com/43969430
Diarmaid
Ferriter cites Dermot Keogh approvingly to the effect that the work of
diplomacy was not about philosophical discussion but was a 'world of
shadow language and shape-shifting'. The implication here and elsewhere
is that moral or philosophical issue do not enter into foreign policy
and that each state simply pursues its own 'national interest' as it
sees it. This realist or neo-realist view of diplomacy is in fact
a-moral and leads to indifference in the face of difficult moral and
political challenges. Indifference was a key feature of Irish diplomacy
during the war, as also noted by Elizabeth Bowen but not cited in
Ferriter's article because it does not help the position he wishes to
uphold.
If we do not take a moral position about foreign policy
how can the Iraq war be criticised or the use of drones by the United
States in Pakistan. Although not mentioned by Ferriter, the defence of
Irish sovereignty had always been defended on moral grounds as well as
on traditional diplomatic grounds. Moreover, if morality is not brought
into the question, how then is it possible to criticise the actions of
any other state and its behaviour? It is quite right to say that history
is not simple but it is not so precisely because there are moral and
ethical questions to be answered by the historian. This is not about
hindsight or specific political agendas (though some have these) but
about an assessment of the context within which decisions are made, what
the choices were and why one rather than another outcome occurred. It
entails a view that there were alternatives, what these were and why one
was taken. If choice is not placed at the heart of the historical
process then outcomes will be seen as inevitable and human agency
excluded from history. The defence of Irish neutrality as the only
possible policy under all circumstances is self-limiting and can lead
the historian unwittingly to be themselves apologists for an alternative
political agenda.
The case for Irish neutrality in the early
years of the war is strong and Diarmaid Ferriter in his article makes a
good case for this. What is left out is an examination of the
alternatives available to de Valera and his government at certain times
during the Emergency. Thus, when the United states entered the war a
different policy might have been adopted, especially after the agreement
with the Portuguese government on the Azores. Later in the war it would
have been possible to support the Allies actively without any major
danger to the country from Germany. Ireland might have spoken out on the
Holocaust or welcomed Jews to the country at various times. Many
alternatives existed at different times to pursue a pro-Allied policy
without actually entering the war or endangering the country.
What
is required it seems to me is a more nuanced engagement with this past
and a recognition that there are deficiencies in historians engage with
the Emergency. The historiography of the period in Britain and in some
European states has moved much further than is the case in Ireland (for
example debates in Denmark about the decision to surrender in 1940 or
how the Danish state continued to function under Nazi occupation). It is
important to avoid a one sided historiography, whether that is a
defence of neutrality or as criticism of neutrality. Neither of these
positions are adequate for a full understanding of the many (moral and
political) choices that were made between 1939 and 1945.
Thursday 30 May 2013
Saturday 18 May 2013
Pardon for Irish Deserters
The Irish government recently passed legislation that provided a pardon for members of the Irish armed forces who deserted during the Second World War (the Emergency in Ireland). Some at least of these men went to Britain to join the armed forces there. Others went to work in the war industries as many other Irish citizens also did. We do not have a reliable breakdown of the number who joined the British forces and those who went to work, but it is possible that a majority went to fight. Irish military officials certainly considered that many of those who deserted did so because there was not longer a threat to Ireland and were looking for adventure or a challenge (see The Irish Defence Forces 1940-1949: The Chief of Staff's Reports edited by Michael Kennedy and Victor Lang, 2011).
At the end of the war the then government (led by Eamon de Valera) introduced punitive legislation to punish these individuals. It is estimated that about 5000 men were involved and most of their names and addresses are available. It remains a sensitive issue and what the government did was remove them from military discipline (under which those arrested in Ireland were convicted) and make a political issue of the matter.
A distinction needs to be made between those who deserted and the much larger group of men and women who volunteered to join the British war effort and who were not penalised by the Irish government in this way. There has been some confusion about this in the British press where it was assumed that all those who fought for Britain were penalised. This was not so, although most of those who did so did not remain in Ireland after the war.
This remains a controversial topic and an article by historian Diarmaid Ferriter is quite defensive on the topic of neutrality (Irish Times May 11 2013). Ferriter seeks to justify Irish neutrality on pragmatic grounds and is dismissive of the Minister for Justice's view that it was 'a principle of moral bankruptcy'. This defensiveness is widely shared and leads to the position of defending not only neutrality (for which a case can be made) but every aspect of the policy between 1939 and 1945 (which may also include de Valera's visit to the German Minister in Dublin to offer his government's condolences on the death of Hitler). There are good grounds for criticising some aspects of Irish neutrality during this period (as I have done in my own book The Emergency, 2006) and it is disappointing that it seems quite difficult to have a serious debate on the issue.
A case in point can be seen from the debate on this issue at the National Library of Ireland last year. The debate is available at:
http://vimeo.com/43969430
Diarmaid Ferriter cites Dermot Keogh approvingly to the effect that the work of diplomacy was not about philosophical discussion but was a 'world of shadow language and shape-shifting'. The implication here and elsewhere is that moral or philosophical issue do not enter into foreign policy and that each state simply pursues its own 'national interest' as it sees it. This realist or neo-realist view of diplomacy is in fact a-moral and leads to indifference in the face of difficult moral and political challenges. Indifference was a key feature of Irish diplomacy during the war, as also noted by Elizabeth Bowen but not cited in Ferriter's article because it does not help the position he wishes to uphold.
If we do not take a moral position about foreign policy how can the Iraq war be criticised or the use of drones by the United States in Pakistan. Although not mentioned by Ferriter, the defence of Irish sovereignty had always been defended on moral grounds as well as on traditional diplomatic grounds. Moreover, if morality is not brought into the question, how then is it possible to criticise the actions of any other state and its behaviour? It is quite right to say that history is not simple but it is not so precisely because there are moral and ethical questions to be answered by the historian. This is not about hindsight or specific political agendas (though some have these) but about an assessment of the context within which decisions are made, what the choices were and why one rather than another outcome occurred. It entails a view that there were alternatives, what these were and why one was taken. If choice is not placed at the heart of the historical process then outcomes will be seen as inevitable and human agency excluded from history. The defence of Irish neutrality as the only possible policy under all circumstances is self-limiting and can lead the historian unwittingly to be themselves apologists for an alternative political agenda.
The case for Irish neutrality in the early years of the war is strong and Diarmaid Ferriter in his article makes a good case for this. What is left out is an examination of the alternatives available to de Valera and his government at certain times during the Emergency. Thus, when the United states entered the war a different policy might have been adopted, especially after the agreement with the Portuguese government on the Azores. Later in the war it would have been possible to support the Allies actively without any major danger to the country from Germany. Ireland might have spoken out on the Holocaust or welcomed Jews to the country at various times. Many alternatives existed at different times to pursue a pro-Allied policy without actually entering the war or endangering the country.
What is required it seems to me is a more nuanced engagement with this past and a recognition that there are deficiencies in historians engage with the Emergency. The historiography of the period in Britain and in some European states has moved much further than is the case in Ireland (for example debates in Denmark about the decision to surrender in 1940 or how the Danish state continued to function under Nazi occupation). It is important to avoid a one sided historiography, whether that is a defence of neutrality or as criticism of neutrality. Neither of these positions are adequate for a full understanding of the many (moral and political) choices that were made between 1939 and 1945.
At the end of the war the then government (led by Eamon de Valera) introduced punitive legislation to punish these individuals. It is estimated that about 5000 men were involved and most of their names and addresses are available. It remains a sensitive issue and what the government did was remove them from military discipline (under which those arrested in Ireland were convicted) and make a political issue of the matter.
A distinction needs to be made between those who deserted and the much larger group of men and women who volunteered to join the British war effort and who were not penalised by the Irish government in this way. There has been some confusion about this in the British press where it was assumed that all those who fought for Britain were penalised. This was not so, although most of those who did so did not remain in Ireland after the war.
This remains a controversial topic and an article by historian Diarmaid Ferriter is quite defensive on the topic of neutrality (Irish Times May 11 2013). Ferriter seeks to justify Irish neutrality on pragmatic grounds and is dismissive of the Minister for Justice's view that it was 'a principle of moral bankruptcy'. This defensiveness is widely shared and leads to the position of defending not only neutrality (for which a case can be made) but every aspect of the policy between 1939 and 1945 (which may also include de Valera's visit to the German Minister in Dublin to offer his government's condolences on the death of Hitler). There are good grounds for criticising some aspects of Irish neutrality during this period (as I have done in my own book The Emergency, 2006) and it is disappointing that it seems quite difficult to have a serious debate on the issue.
A case in point can be seen from the debate on this issue at the National Library of Ireland last year. The debate is available at:
http://vimeo.com/43969430
Diarmaid Ferriter cites Dermot Keogh approvingly to the effect that the work of diplomacy was not about philosophical discussion but was a 'world of shadow language and shape-shifting'. The implication here and elsewhere is that moral or philosophical issue do not enter into foreign policy and that each state simply pursues its own 'national interest' as it sees it. This realist or neo-realist view of diplomacy is in fact a-moral and leads to indifference in the face of difficult moral and political challenges. Indifference was a key feature of Irish diplomacy during the war, as also noted by Elizabeth Bowen but not cited in Ferriter's article because it does not help the position he wishes to uphold.
If we do not take a moral position about foreign policy how can the Iraq war be criticised or the use of drones by the United States in Pakistan. Although not mentioned by Ferriter, the defence of Irish sovereignty had always been defended on moral grounds as well as on traditional diplomatic grounds. Moreover, if morality is not brought into the question, how then is it possible to criticise the actions of any other state and its behaviour? It is quite right to say that history is not simple but it is not so precisely because there are moral and ethical questions to be answered by the historian. This is not about hindsight or specific political agendas (though some have these) but about an assessment of the context within which decisions are made, what the choices were and why one rather than another outcome occurred. It entails a view that there were alternatives, what these were and why one was taken. If choice is not placed at the heart of the historical process then outcomes will be seen as inevitable and human agency excluded from history. The defence of Irish neutrality as the only possible policy under all circumstances is self-limiting and can lead the historian unwittingly to be themselves apologists for an alternative political agenda.
The case for Irish neutrality in the early years of the war is strong and Diarmaid Ferriter in his article makes a good case for this. What is left out is an examination of the alternatives available to de Valera and his government at certain times during the Emergency. Thus, when the United states entered the war a different policy might have been adopted, especially after the agreement with the Portuguese government on the Azores. Later in the war it would have been possible to support the Allies actively without any major danger to the country from Germany. Ireland might have spoken out on the Holocaust or welcomed Jews to the country at various times. Many alternatives existed at different times to pursue a pro-Allied policy without actually entering the war or endangering the country.
What is required it seems to me is a more nuanced engagement with this past and a recognition that there are deficiencies in historians engage with the Emergency. The historiography of the period in Britain and in some European states has moved much further than is the case in Ireland (for example debates in Denmark about the decision to surrender in 1940 or how the Danish state continued to function under Nazi occupation). It is important to avoid a one sided historiography, whether that is a defence of neutrality or as criticism of neutrality. Neither of these positions are adequate for a full understanding of the many (moral and political) choices that were made between 1939 and 1945.
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