Tom Barry (56 page)

The media took up the issue. A crew from RTÉ spent some days in the area filming and researching a programme for television, but because Mr Stanley was not available to appear it was felt that the story might seem one-sided and the programme was never shown.

Peadar O'Donnell who, since the 1930s, had been involved in protecting the rights of small landowners, threw himself behind the cause.

Once again the
Southern Star
correspondent J. J. took up the issue:

Commandant General Barry enjoys a reputation as a soldier and a man of principle, second to none. We accept that he firmly believes that it is wrong for one man to own one thousand acres of land. This is an honest statement of opinion. One of the hazards famous men have to bear is the efforts of people who would like to use them for ignoble ends ... agitation about the Lisselane Estate was punctuated by a burst of oratory which was redolent of the bigotry and the sectarianism of Paisleyism ...
[11]

Week followed week and letters flowed into the Southern Star. Letters appeared in other papers, very often in response to Tom Barry's name. In fact there seemed to be two controversies: (1) the estate versus the small holder and (2) for and against Tom Barry.

Dr Lucey, bishop of Cork and Ross, said to Tom, ‘I don't know how to sort out this business. I think,' he said,' we'll have to have another revolution!'

‘By God I think we should,' said Tom, and paused. ‘But I wouldn't be too sure of your support when it comes!'
[12]

As Barry predicted, the bishop then went on and spoke against the principle suggested by the West Cork Land League and Tom Barry. He had an idea of gathering local workers together to grow vegetables on the land; but his concept had already been tried in the area, according to Leo Meade, secretary of the West Cork Land League, and was unsuccessful. So the controversy continued and the ‘letters to the editor' spread over many months. Barry does not appear to have replied to any of the letters. He didn't have to; others seemed to express what he would have said. Action was more important to him.

‘Barry's intervention put the issue on a higher plane. He generated a fire, gave us new life, got us all working together, and he insisted in keeping religion and politics out of it', explained Leo Meade.

He worked with determination for the delegation and with Fr Denis Houten, the West Cork Land League and Dóchas Chorcaí. The issue covered a period of almost two years but, according to Leo Meade, the final result was ‘exceptionally satisfactory'.

Fifteen local farmers who had less than thirty acres of land each had their holdings brought up to over 60 acres through the land commission. The remaining land, divided into six farms of 70 acres, was sold to outside farmers who had only about 25 acres. Their 25 acres were sold in their localities to make other farms viable.

Leo Meade says it has meant that there are now about 40 children where once there was none. ‘It is a perfect example of a settled area where local organisations and a community has now built up. So the end result was success.'
[13]

All those involved have no doubt that the event would not have such a satisfactory conclusion were it not for the intervention of Tom Barry. Most of all, his persuasive powers and his diplomacy cemented friends and neighbours who were in danger of division.

The following year, 1969, a RTÉ television documentary remembered Kilmichael and Crossbarry, drawing on some of the participants in these ambushes and the views of the commander of the Third West Cork Flying Column. On this occasion Barry remembered ‘all the people of West Cork – without them there would have been no fight. We lost 64 men altogether and they are in our thoughts tonight,' he told Brian Farrell.
[14]
Tom Barry had ‘retained a certain glorified integrity' because of his ‘personal bravery' and ‘of the very real achievements, in which he was a participant in the extraordinary military struggle with the odds so unequal – which brought out qualities of personal valour and of loyalty – these do indeed stand the test of time,' according to Professor Gearóid Ó Tuathaigh, in an RTÉ radio programme. Furthermore he ‘never shirked in giving his views' and made ‘statements that were often seen to be abrasive. The granite-like integrity of the man and the personal bravery … retained for him this romantic glow, this heroic mould.'
[15]

At 72, he was in constant demand to deliver lectures at army centres, colleges, universities, historical societies, and could speak for hours without notes. At UCG, he spoke for one a half-hours and spent almost another hour and a half answering questions. ‘Isn't it a good job I'm not a professor, my lectures would last all day!' he quipped. A few weeks later he spoke to students and priests in Maynooth. Monsignor Tomás Ó Fiaich got them to learn ‘The Boys of Kilmichael'. As Barry entered the hall they almost ‘lifted the roof'. When Tomás Ó Fiaich introduced him as the man who was once excommunicated from the Catholic Church, he responded as he took the rostrum, ‘Not once, but five times!'
[16]

Tom was asked in 1969 by Nollaig Ó Gadhra if he was happy and if he had his life to live again would he take the same road? He responded: ‘I think I'm the happiest man in Cork. I would say, in Ireland! I have no property. I have no money. I have enough to live on. And I'm glad I've lived the life I did.'
[17]

Notes

In the heather-covered countryside of Kilmichael, 50 years after the ambush, over 3,000 people turned up to hear the commander who planned, fought and helped to win the ambush. The other survivors were also there.

‘They wore their Sunday suits and in their eyes shone the stars of old memories. It was not difficult to picture them in the breeches and gaiters and trench coats they once had worn. There was vigour in their years and the spiritual toughness, which had seen them through turbulent days, was evident in the mould of their faces.'
[1]

It was 9 August 1970. The commemoration date was brought forward from 28 November, the actual anniversary date, so that these now elderly men could take part under better weather conditions than they experienced on 28 November 1920. Old IRA men and members of Cumann na mBan came in their hundreds, from many parts of the country to celebrate the event and hear the veteran guerrilla leader speak. Having recounted the details including the false surrender, it was inevitable that General Barry would refer to the troubles in the north of Ireland – troubles, which had erupted the previous year.

‘We are living in strange times and from some utterances by certain people, we should not be here at all to remember with pride those men who died with guns in their hands. Rather would it seem that we should apologise for them.'
[2]

He made it quite clear that the objective of a 32 county Republic was the same as 50 years ago when the Republic was proclaimed and IRA men fell in battle. It was confirmed he said by three-quarters of the adult population of Ireland at the British general election of 1918 and defended in arms afterwards by the Irish Republican army.

‘The ending of partition is the responsibility of not alone the people of Ireland, but of every Irishman wherever he may be.'

He said it was not alone the right, but ‘the bounden' duty of all who seek to end the foreign armed occupation of the north-east to use every means to do so. ‘One hopes that it can be done peacefully, but it will be only effected from the strength of a united Republican movement.'

Concluding, he stated that the chequered history of Ireland ‘showed a mixture of victories and defeats and they had much to learn from it, particularly the need for unity and cold hard planning.'
[3]

A report of his speech appeared in all the national dailies on 10 August, and on 14 August a letter to the
Irish Times
signed by Noel Browne, TD, under the heading of ‘Fighting Cocks' suggested a ‘Joxer Daly-style fighting … Taking that well-known pair of bellicose right-wing political doctrinaires, Republican General Tom Barry from the south, and Unionist Mr William Craig from the north, put them into a big wind-filled thin brown-paper bag and defy them to fight their way out of it ... militants on both sides who favour arming preferably other Irishmen to kill one another ... '

Letters of reply began to appear in the
Irish Times,
the last on 14 September, during which time Tom Barry's ‘right-wing' stance, a utopian Irish state and the merits and demerits of what government,Churches and Tom Barry had or had not done were all debated.

On 19 August Margaret Duffy took up Dr Browne's argument; ‘Dr Noel Browne's comparison of General Barry and William Craig is as preposterous as ever I heard … Dr Browne should remember that he would not be sitting in Dáil Éireann today were it not for men like General Barry and his comrades …'

An interesting long letter appeared on 22 August from Críostóir de Baróid, Corcaigh, in which he outlined many of the deeds performed by Tom Barry, telling of a man ‘in the hungry 1930s who was unemployed and seriously ill in hospital, without hope or resource for his wife and young family.' A visitor called and unobtrusively laid an envelope on his bed. ‘The envelope contained £10. The visitor was Tom Barry! Hundreds of such stories can be told of such instances, independent man with a heart of truth; and of the worthy causes of the down-and-outs, of the homeless, of the victims of privilege or of arrogant authority, who have found in him an outspoken, fearless champion …

‘Nobody will be naïve enough to say that Tom Barry or any other man can do no wrong. But I fail to see how anyone can say that he is right-wing. By what contortions of reasoning can he be put on the same wing as Mr Craig … a man who has proved to precipitate civil strife rather than grant the minority the rights guaranteed by the very constitution which Mr Craig himself accepts? …'

Noel Browne continued to defend his attitude. Tom Barry writing on 24 August thanked those who had written on his behalf; and of Noel Browne, he said, ‘Down the years he has rampaged within Fianna Fáil, then Clann na Poblachta, and now rests, temporarily I am sure, with Labour … pity this politician of delusions and confusions.'

Eventually the controversy ended, but Críostóir de Baróid said that Tom was extremely upset that there had to be such ‘washing in public of dirty linen'.
[4]

In an
Irish Independent
series by Raymond Smith, 8 December 1970, under the heading ‘What is Republicanism?' Barry expressed his opinion that, in the main, the young Volunteers of 1919–1921 were satisfied:

that they were following in the footsteps of the greatest men in all our history – the men of 1916 – that one day they would drive out the foreign army, and end the subjection of the Irish nation.

That was the main plank of the Irish Republicanism of over 50 years ago. The young men were growing up and as a flying column moved extensively around the countryside, they could not help but be affected by the disparity in the lives of the people.

They saw the lords of the ascendancy in their castles and manors, surrounded by servants and wealth, owning large stretches of land, holding fishing and shooting rights, living as masters of a population where the large majority of the people were poor and a section of them lived in misery and dire distress.

Young men had their minds and their feelings disturbed, of course, and many must have vowed that when the armed battle was won, there would be changes in the lives of their people.

According to Barry, the IRA billeted in the manors, levied subscriptions to the brigade arms fund, prevented evictions, confiscated the lands, produce and farm stocks of executed spies and informers and tried to feed the hungry poor. ‘It was then that it dawned on some that the slogan “Undo the conquest with all its evils” was a more fitting one than “Up the Republic”. Yet the first objective was to remain – that of driving out the British occupying forces ... Today … [1970] the chief objective remains as it was over half a century ago, but we see no reason why the undoing of the conquest cannot go on simultaneously with the driving out of the occupying forces. But, alas, we see no signs of an intelligent attempt at effecting either objective.'
[5]

Barry, in this interview in the
Irish Independent,
talked about splinter groups not aiding Republicanism, and he also spoke of unity among all politicians in the Dáil. ‘It surely can be said that every member of the Dáil would prefer to sit in a parliament of an All-Ireland Republic but they inherited a truncated Twenty- Six/Six County Ireland because their predecessors were not strong enough to force the Republic of the Proclamation in 1921 from the grip of the British occupying forces.'

He maintained that organisations and individuals outside the Dáil who wished to end partition should take a searching look at their policies and tactics. He concluded his interview: ‘Foolish talk about not recognising the Parliament we have here in the Twenty-Six counties must be ended, too, as every one living in the area does recognise the state. Every time one travels in a bus or train, buys a postage stamp, avails of the health services, or accepts a wages' packet from which income tax has been deducted, one recognises the state.'
[6]

In June 1971, when there was a suggestion of celebrating the Truce of 1921, Barry described it as ‘spitting on the Irish nation'. He was speaking at the unveiling of a memorial at Carrowkennedy, Westport, commemorating an ambush of crown forces there 50 years previously, by members of the West Mayo Flying Column.

He claimed, in his talk, that what the Truce finally brought ‘was deaths, executions and counter-executions in a Civil War that brought this country to the verge of destruction'. He criticised the newspaper advertisement by the department of defence, which specified that the Truce commemoration reception would only be for the relatives of those who died before 11 July 1921.

‘What they are trying to say is that anyone who died after that date did not die for Ireland. The relatives of men such as Cathal Brugha, Liam Mellows, Michael Collins, Seán Hales, Dick Barrett of Cork and Seán Sabhat did not qualify and could not be invited. It would be a gross lie to say that these men and those who died in the Civil War – regardless of which side they were on – or that the men who died in the streets of Belfast at the hands of the British troops did not die for Ireland.'
[7]

‘But what man can state the principles for which men gave their lives for Ireland without referring to the reign of terror in our six northern counties over the past two years?' he asked.

As to the suggestion made two years previously to send the Irish army into the six counties, he termed it the ‘talk of unthinking fools'. He said the army could not have invaded ‘even the Aran Islands' at that particular time; they weren't prepared ‘in mind or equipment for such an action, having been kept short of men, arms and ammunition', over the years. He added that this part of the country was ‘torn asunder with political splits and counter-splits and we were a nation without a unity of purpose'.

On this sunny June day in the rugged Mayo countryside he referred to the Arms Trial and complained of attempts to smear the name of his own wife by associating her with the arms plot.

In conclusion he urged that people should remember that ‘our six counties were conquered and are being occupied by force. If we had the power, the will and the army, we had a perfect right to take them back by force at the opportune time.'
[8]

A month later, on 11 July 1971, he spoke in Crossbarry at the fiftieth anniversary commemoration of that famous engagement. He said it was the last time he would speak at a commemoration and went on to suggest that Easter Sunday should be a memorial day for the honour of dead Irish patriots. Again he referred to the six counties saying that ‘No Irishman can stand on a Republican platform without mentioning the scandalous state of affairs which exists there …' John Whelton who laid a wreath for the men who gave their lives for the freedom of Ireland said a few words on behalf of all his comrades ‘living and dead'.
[9]

In July 1971 Martin O'Leary, a 20 year old Cork Republican died following an explosion at Mogul Mines, Co. Tipperary. A force of 200 gardaí walked with the hearse and ‘an estimated 500 gardaí ringed' St Finbarr's cemetery during the ceremonies. This was at the height of ‘the troubles' in Northern Ireland and there was fear of conflict. He was buried in the Republican Plot. The grave had been opened during the night ‘without the permission of the corporation'. Official IRA chief-of-staff, Cathal Goulding gave the oration. Barry, who was not present, disliked the Official IRA's move away from traditional Republicanism and because of this ‘invasion' he felt the Republican plot ‘was dishonoured by the inclusion of a modern [Official] Republican alongside veterans' of the War of Independence. The incident copper-fastened his decision that the Republican plot would not be his final resting place.
[10]

In the summer of 1972 when Tom was unveiling a memorial in Kilkelly, to the memory of the men who were killed in East Mayo, the War of Independence, John Snee in introducing him spoke of the bravery and resoluteness of all those who fought for Ireland, ‘but' he said, ‘there was only one Tom Barry!'
[11]

A group of about 24 Provisional IRA came down from Northern Ireland to meet with him and get his views. They met in the old Connolly Hall in Cork where Barry gave them a ‘good talk' on tactics.

Joe Cahill, IRA activist and chief-of-staff over a number of years, found Tom Barry very supportive of the northern ‘struggle for freedom'. Barry ‘believed in the justice of the cause, right throughout the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s,' Joe Cahill recalled. ‘Whenever we took active men to meet him, he advised and encouraged them to complete the job that he and his men started. He'd get very angry at the way Nationalists in Northern Ireland were treated as second-class citizens.'

Many men engaged in the struggle in South Armagh and other parts of Northern Ireland sought his advice. ‘His active interest in the IRA was beneficial to the men', said Cahill, who admits that Barry gave him many tips, ‘whenever' the two men spent worthwhile hours in discussion. ‘He always maintained that the objective was the same – the fight for freedom – though the means of achieving it had altered.'

‘Barry has to be admired,' said Joe Cahill. ‘He wasn't an armchair general. He was a military genius. In the conflict he led by example. Throughout the decades, the goal of a United Ireland in his lifetime, was his greatest wish. Not all that long before he died, I met him. He had one desire, he said. If he had the energy, he would love to get some men together and have one other go at the British establishment, to see could he achieve his aim – bring them into discussions.'
[12]

A few nights after Bloody Sunday (30 January 1972) Brendan O'Neill, Dave O'Sullivan and group of Cork men organised a mass meeting in the City Hall with Barry as the principal speaker. Thousands packed in and the overflow lined over the Lee Bridge as Republican men from each decade, the 1920s, 1930s, 1940s up to the 1970s stood on the stage. ‘The atmosphere was electric'.
[13]