During the tumultuous times of the second World War, Winston Churchill, the British prime minister, took the chance to acknowledge the substantial contribution of valiant Irish fighters in Britain’s military in the House of Commons. These accolades also highlighted his disdain for what he perceived as betrayal by the non-combatant Irish populace and their leaders who maintained a stance of neutrality. Churchill, seemingly undeterred by the irony that English imperialism was partly to blame for Ireland’s history of military honour, unabashedly espoused this viewpoint during a time of war where rhetoric was dominated by statements of absolute certainty. Churchill’s rhetorical prowess was matched by taoiseach Éamon de Valera, though their respective styles were distinguishably unique.
The media coverage of the 80th anniversary of D-Day in 1944, highlighted an increased focus on Ireland’s role in the war. This extended to active service personnel (around 130,000 from both North and South Ireland) and those offering auxiliary support such as those engaged in meteorological duties and work in ammunition factories. From the 1990s onwards, significant research was undertaken to explore and document the experiences of the Irish during the war, including the accounts of Irish veterans, and even the women who served in positions including nursing and support roles in the British forces. Ethel, an Irish veteran whose words were documented by historian Mary Muldowney, expressed pride for her service in British uniform, describing the freedom and self-realisation that came with service: “I wasn’t anybody’s wife or anybody’s daughter or sister, I was me and it was really marvellous. It’s nice to be yourself once in a while.”
Ethel’s viewpoint offers a different angle, highlighting that every participant from Ireland might not have acted solely on ideological grounds. Irish men and women might instead be seeking freedom, excitement, or opportunities not offered domestically. Many could have been unaware of the perilous situations they might face; but resentment was felt among many Irish Army soldiers who found themselves working on manual tasks in Phoenix Park, rather than participating in actual warfare. Over the latter years, more focus – understandably – has been placed on those who left the Irish Army to join the fight, a topic long shrouded in silence. Eoin Kinsella, an historian for the Irish Defence Forces, draws attention to a memo by Daniel McKenna, the Chief of Staff, in April 1943, which said those who opt for a military lifestyle generally prefer the British forces, where they perceive a more exhilarating career path. From April 1941 to March 1945, there came to be 6,602 deserters from the Irish Army and, after the war had ended, an estimated 5,000 of those were still regarded as having abandoned their duties.
A considerable number of Irish women and men who fought in the Second World War may not have been driven by ideology. Many perceive these soldiers as brave characters, rather than as disloyal, recognising the significant risks they undertook and their decision to confront the pressing moral issue looming at the time: the suppression of Nazism. On the other side, we must not forget that many of these individuals also stood up for Ireland’s neutrality. Back in Ireland, thousands volunteered in response to ‘The Emergency,’ taking Ireland’s defence seriously. Ireland had not prepared adequately for a full military invasion due to lack of funding and equipment. Nevertheless, the political strategy of Irish neutrality demands more than simple derision. Our understanding of it should be born in perspective of the time, remembering Ireland’s defining events such as the Civil War, the partition, and the high importance given to pursuing an autonomous foreign policy during state creation.
Elizabeth Bowen, noted Anglo-Irish author and contributor of reports regarding Irish neutrality for Britain’s Ministry of Information, held Winston Churchill in high regard. However, she was disenchanted with the lack of acknowledgement of the repercussions of Ireland’s neutrality, and the prevailing sense of detachment amongst many Irish people, in contrast to those she deemed more “attuned to European sensibilities”. Nevertheless, her insights in some reports revealed a sense of balance. An early war realisation led her to the conclusion that Irish participation would equate to an outright catastrophe, and the British hostility and propagandic spree against neutrality was counterproductive. Bowen ultimately believed many Irish viewed neutrality as an affirmation and declaration of independence rather than a refusal to take a position.
These central themes – defence infrastructure and financial arrangements, neutrality, propaganda campaigns and the position and privileges of smaller nations amid global strife – have been recurrent topics in recent discussions on Ireland’s foreign strategy. The enormous human toll and sacrifices made during World War II that we collectively remember and honour this week, along with recognition of Ireland’s part, should not be equated with advocacy or censure. Rather, they should remind us in these times of escalating hostility, why ongoing dialogue on foreign policy is still of crucial significance.