A revolution in vivid images
In Revolution: A Photographic History of Revolutionary Ireland 1913-1923, Clare historian Pádraig Óg Ó Ruairc presents an unflinching pictorial record of that period, chronicling the turbulent struggle for independence that culminated in the bloody birth of the Irish State.
“The Civil War and the War of Independence were very complex events,” explains Mr Ó Ruairc. “Sometimes you can get a lot more from photos than you can from documents. You can see the confusion in the faces of the British forces, some of whom were very young, and the terror on the faces of citizens. Photos allow you to capture some of the excitement and the drama of the era.”
Mr Ó Ruairc selected the photos from a variety of public and private collections in Britain and Ireland, including an archive of 1,000 unpublished photos owned by Mercier Press, who approached him about the project.
“All in all, I had access to about 3,000 to 4,000 photos,” he says, with sources ranging from his own collection to that of London’s Imperial War Museum. “It was very hard to choose the best ones for the book. I tried to choose ones that were primarily unseen or that were instrumental to the narrative of the period.”
The resonance of the images, which chart the growth of militant nationalism and unionism in the lead-up to the First World War, the Easter Rising, the meteoritic rise of Sinn Féin at the expense of the Irish Parliamentary Party, the War of Independence, the uneasy Truce and the Civil War, are charged by the development of photography itself as a critical weapon in the fight for sovereignty.
“Photography was very important from a propaganda point of view,” explains Mr Ó Ruairc. “Heroes like Daniel O’Connell and the Manchester Martyrs in people’s houses were being replaced by photos of Pearse and other 1916 leaders.”
In the book, the Meelick man indicates the potentially grave consequences of this: if British forces found these images during searches of Irish homes they might use them as a pretext for burning the house.
Additionally, during the War of Independence, photography was central to both the intelligence war and to highlighting the recklessness of British forces in Ireland to an international audience.
“British spies used photos of Collins to capture leading Republicans, while the IRA used photos of British officers to capture them,” explains Mr Ó Ruairc. “The media played a very important role when photos of villages destroyed by the Black and Tans were printed around the world, focusing attention on what was happening in Ireland.”
Quoting Mark Twain’s observation that “history doesn’t repeat itself but it does rhyme”, the author draws direct parallels between two harrowing photos in the book, both with local connections, and images from the recent war in Iraq.
The first is of Tom Hales and Pat Harte, two members of the IRA’s West Cork Brigade, photographed during their interrogation by the British army in July 1920, which evokes the grisly images of Iraqi prisoners tortured by US soldiers in Abu Ghraib.
The IRA men were stripped naked, placed on an improvised explosive mine, beaten and whipped but refused to give information. Their torture was led by Captain Joseph O’Connor Kelly, a native of Kildysart.
“Captain Kelly was regarded as one of the worst British officers during the war,” says Mr Ó Ruairc. “The IRA made a number of attempts on his life in Cork and Clare. If anyone has information on him, I’d like to speak to them.” Harte, looking deranged as he unsuspectingly waves a Union Jack in his right hand, was left insane by the event.
Similarly, the photos of the mutilated remains of IRA brothers, Patrick and Harry Loughnane from Shanaglish, Gort, killed by the RIC in 1920, are eerily reminiscent of the murdered Blackwater contractors whose charred bodies were hung upside down in Falluja.
“When the Loughnane bodies were found they were horrifically disfigured, dismembered and burnt. One brother was almost decapitated,” according to Mr Ó Ruairc. “In both cases [Ireland and Iraq], unless the images of the bodies were seen, it would’ve been dismissed as propaganda.”
While the book presents photos from across the country, arresting images from Clare feature prominently. These include photographs of de Valera’s seminal 1917 by-election victory and arrest in Ennis in 1923; the Clare veterans of the 1917 Mountjoy hunger strike led by Thomas Ashe and Cranny’s Peadar Clancy, vice-commandant of the Dublin Brigade and IRA director of munitions, who was killed in Dublin Castle on Bloody Sunday 1921.
Authoritative and measured, the book’s commentary provides incisive context for its 400 photos and includes succinct pen portraits of key figures in the period. Ó Ruairc portrays the seismic political changes but also offers a revealing insight into everyday life during the decade through stark, striking images.
The 28-year-old historian, who works seasonally for the Heritage Service at Charles Fort, Kinsale, has published two previous books tackling the events of the period: Blood on the Banner and The Battle for Limerick City. He is researching a PhD at the University of Limerick on the Anglo-Irish Truce, focusing on “why the British agreed, why the Irish agreed and who, if anyone, was winning the war by that date”.
Revolution has just been nominated for the Bord Gáis Energy Irish Book Awards and the winner will be announced this Thursday.
“I’m delighted to be shortlisted,” says O’Ruaric. ”It’s the first time anything I’ve written has been recognised like this. It’s a great honour.
“The award will be decided by a public vote. If anyone who’s read the book would like to vote they can go to www.irishbookawards.ie.”
Revolution: A Photographic History of Revolutionary Ireland 1913-1923 is published by Mercier Press.