I Signed My Death Warrant (20 page)

Though the first hurdle in the ratification process had been cleared, Collins was obviously troubled after the cabinet meeting. He called at Batt O'Connor's home, where he had been a frequent visitor during the terror, but now he was unsure of his welcome. When O'Connor opened the door, Collins did not walk in as usual but stood on the doorstep ‘with a strange expression' as he waited to be invited in.

‘Come in,' said O'Connor somewhat puzzled. ‘What are you waiting for?'

‘I thought you would have no welcome for me, Batt.' Of course, he was welcome, but he was so upset that he was unable to relax. Too agitated to sit down, he strode around the room, gesturing animatedly with his hands flailing the air. Should the Treaty be defeated, he said that he would move back down the country. ‘I will leave Dublin at once,' he said bitterly. ‘I will go down to Cork. If the fighting is going to be resumed, I will fight in the open, beside my own people down there. I am not going to be chivvied and hunted through Dublin as I have been for the last two years.'

‘You have brought back this Treaty,' O'Connor argued. ‘It is a wonderful achievement. The people want it. They must at least be given the chance to say what they think of it. Then if they reject it (only they will not reject it) you will have done your part, and will have no responsibility for the consequences.'

‘I will accept their verdict,' Collins declared.

Next day de Valera met Childers, Barton and Duffy and ex­plained that he planned to draw up an alternative to the Treaty. It was a ‘revelation' to Childers to find that the president ‘was thinking more of one which could get extremist support' rather than looking to the middle ground. ‘His nerve and confidence are amazing. Seems certain of winning.' He noted that de Valera intended to put up terms for a ‘real peace – not a sham'.

When the supreme council of the IRB met to consider the Treaty on 10 December, Collins chaired the meeting at which Liam Lynch was the only dissenting voice. Lynch was sorry that he felt conscientiously compelled to differ with Collins, but he nevertheless felt that his opposition would not strain their friendship.

‘I admire Mick as a soldier and a man,' Lynch wrote. ‘Thank God all parties can agree to differ.'

Although the supreme council endorsed the Treaty, three other members not present at that meeting – Harry Boland, Joe McKelvey, and Charlie Daly – all subsequently opposed the Treaty. It was decided that IRB members who were Dáil deputies would be free to vote as they saw fit. The IRB was not going to try to compel its members to vote for ratification.

Griffith and Collins were undoubtedly helped by the neg­ative reaction to the Treaty in Belfast. Sir James Craig expressed ‘grave dissatisfaction and alarm' to the Stormont parliament. Its members were irate that the Treaty had been signed with representatives of Sinn Féin representing the whole island. Northern Ireland was included without even consulting its representatives.

‘We protest against the declared intention of your Govern­ment to place Northern Ireland automatically in the Irish Free State,' Craig wrote to Lloyd George. ‘It is true that Ulster is given the right to contract out, but she can only do so after automatic inclusion in the Irish Free State.' Among the defence provisions, for instance, Belfast Lough was mentioned as one of the four Treaty ports to be retained by the British.

‘What right has Sinn Féin to be recognised as parties to an agreement concerning the defences of Belfast Lough, which touches only the loyal counties of Antrim and Down?' Craig asked indignantly.

He could hardly have been reassured when Andrew Bonar Law expressed the belief that the Boundary Commission clauses would lead to the transfer of Fermanagh and Tyrone to the Irish Free State. And Lloyd George seemed to confirm the assessment himself in the House of Commons.

‘There is no doubt,' the prime minister said, ‘certainly since the Act of 1920, that the majority of the people of the two counties prefer being with their Southern neighbours to being in the Northern Parliament. Take it either by constituency or by Poor Law Union, or, if you like, by counting heads, and you will find that the majority in these two counties prefer to be with their Southern neighbours – What does that mean? If Ulster is to remain a separate community, you can only be means of coercion keep them there, and although I am against the coercion of Ulster, I do not believe in Ulster coercing other units.'

‘Our Northern areas will be so cut up and mutilated that we shall no longer be masters in our own house,' Captain Charles C. Craig, the northern prime minister's brother complained. He was utterly vitriolic about the Treaty, as was Sir Edward Carson. In his diary Field Marshal Sir John French described the Treaty ‘as a complete surrender'. He depicted the oath as ‘farsical,' and he concluded, ‘The British Empire is doomed'.

At the outset de Valera had merely asked the British to stand aside and let the Irish settle the partition issue between themselves. When the British signed the agreement with Sinn Féin on behalf of the whole island without even consulting the unionists, the latter felt distinctly betrayed.

The debate at Westminster began on the same day as in the Dáil but it was passed by an overwhelming majority just two days later, by 401 votes to 58. It enjoyed the support of most of the coalition, the Liberals, the Labour Party and even Bonar Law. The opposition was somewhat stronger in the House of Lords, where the Treaty was still passed by 166 votes to 47.

There was a great air of anticipation on 14 December 1921 when the Dáil convened in the main hall of University College at Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin. Collins was the first minister to arrive in the chamber. ‘He was, as usual, smiling and good humoured and, with his moustache shaved off in the last twenty-four hours, he looked more boyish than ever,' according to
The Irish Times
.

The division within the cabinet immediately manifested it­self in the seating arrangement, which saw de Valera, Brugha, and Stack positioned to the left of the speaker, while Griffith, Collins and the other members of the delegation took up their seats across the floor. Most members of the general body sat facing the speaker, with the public gallery behind them, while some 110 journalists from around the world were crammed together at the other end of the hall behind the speaker's chair.

Following the roll call there was supposed to be a motion to go into private session, but de Valera, who was dressed in a brown suit for a change, rose to say a few words first. It was but a foretaste of what was to come during the following days. Whenever he wanted to say something he just interrupted as if he had a right to determine procedure himself. During the thirteen days of public and private debate, he interrupted the proceeding more than 250 times. It was no doubt, a measure of his standing that he was allowed to interrupt so often. Many of those interruptions were admittedly very brief interjections, but some were quite lengthy.

His opening remarks were patently dishonest. Speaking in Gaelic, he said that his command of the language was not a good as he would like and he would therefore speak in English, because he would be better able to arrange his thoughts. Then he proceeded to tell the Dáil in English that he was not going to continue in Gaelic because some of those present could not understand the language. He quoted the instructions to the plenipotentiaries and noted that they had not fulfilled the provision stipulating that the ‘complete text of the draft treaty about to be signed' would be submitted to the cabinet in Dublin and a ‘reply awaited'.

Collins rose to refute the suggestion that the members of the delegation had exceeded their authority, or violated their instructions. They ‘did not sign a treaty', he argued but merely signed a document ‘on the understanding that each signatory would recommend it to the Dáil for acceptance.' The document would not effectively become a treaty until it had been ratified.

A vital consideration in signing, as far as Collins was con­­­­cerned, was the fact that there was so little difference between what the rest of the cabinet wanted and what the British were offering. In order that the circumstances would be better understood he wanted the fullest possible disclosure of all documents in relation to the negotiations. He was there­fore annoyed when the president acted selectively in reading the secret instructions given to the delegation without even mentioning their credentials.

Standing with hands in his pockets, Collins faced the speaker and spoke slowly but firmly. ‘In repose his eyes glimmer softly with humour,' according to John F. Boyle of
The
Irish Independent
. ‘When roused they narrow – hard, intense and relent­­less. He speaks like this. One or two words. Then he pauses to think. His speech does not flow like a stream as it does in the case of Eamon de Valera. Yet not from one word is firmness absent.'

‘If one document had to be read,' Collins said with his jaw set determinedly and his voice vibrant with the intensity of his feelings, ‘the original document, which was a prior document, should have been read first. I must ask the liberty of reading the original document which was served on each member of the delegation.'

‘Is that the one with the original credentials?' de Valera asked.

‘Yes,' replied Collins.

‘Was that ever presented?' the president asked. ‘It was given in order to get the British Government to recognise the Irish Republic. Was that document giving the credentials of the accredited representatives from the Irish Government presented to, or accepted by, the British delegates? Was that seen by the British delegates or accepted by them?'

It was a dramatic moment as de Valera stood there facing Collins across the floor. The credentials had not been given to the British, but the important point, as far as Collins was con­cerned, was that they were given to the delegates by de Valera himself. Collins was not therefore about to get side­tracked on the issue.

‘May I ask,' he said almost jocularly to the speaker, ‘that I be allowed to speak without interruption?'

‘I must protest,' the president insisted. But the speaker called for order. ‘The little incident ended in a ripple of relaxation, and some applause. De Valera sat down,' according to
The Irish Independent.

Continuing with dramatic effect Collins read the credentials signed by the president himself. Those specifically stated that the delegates had been conferred with plenipotentiary powers ‘to negotiate and conclude' a treaty with Britain. Collins did not stress the words ‘negotiate and conclude,' but the reading of the terms of reference seemed to create a profound impression on all those present in the hall.

From his ‘slow, measured tones,' Collins gradually built himself into ‘a crescendo of anger and indignation' as he repeated that the credentials should have been read along with the instructions so that members of the Dáil would be in a position to judge the issue on its merits. He said that he had refrained from trying to influence members of the Dáil before it met to consider the agreement, even though he knew that he was being vilified by opponents of the agreement.

‘I have not said a hard word about anyone,' he emphasised as he rapped the table in front of him, ‘but I have been called a traitor.'

‘By whom?' de Valera asked.

The atmosphere was electric as the Big Fellow ignored the question. ‘If there are men who act towards me as a traitor I am prepared to meet them anywhere, any time, now as in the past,' he continued. ‘It was a challenge – not uttered with provocative emphasis but with deep feeling,' according to Boyle

People were heard to murmur throughout the room. De Valera sat staring at Collins while ministers and deputies be­­came restless. But then the tension dissipated as Collins changed the subject and continued in a more ordinary tone. Even though he was opposed to a private session, he said he would accept one.

‘If there is anything, any matter of detail, if, for instance, the differences as they arose from time to time, should be discussed first in private, I am of the opinion that having discussed it in private I think we ought then to be able to make it public,' he said. In short they could discuss these matters privately to clear up any misunderstandings, but then they should be free to explain their own points of view. ‘I am willing to go as far as that, that is only detail. But on the essentials I am for publicity now and all along.'

The debate drifted as various members argued whether or not to go into private session. Although de Valera wanted one, Brugha objected, thereby demonstrating that sincerity and independence which even Collins admired. Suddenly the president revived the controversy over the credentials.

‘Do you wish to lay stress on the word conclude?' de Valera asked Collins

Collins looked up and replied promptly and emphatically, ‘No, sir, no.'

‘What is the point then of raising the original credentials, if the word “conclude” did not mean that when you had signed it was ended?' the president asked. But nobody asked why de Valera had included the word in the first place.

Griffith settled the issue by pointing out that ‘whether they had full power to make this Treaty on this nation', they had not tried to do so. Neither they nor the British signatories had bound their nations by the signatures. ‘They had to go to their parliament,' he said, ‘and we to ours.'

‘Deputies sensed the underlying meaning of this momentous phrase, and there was relieved applause,' according to
The Irish Independent
reporters. ‘One felt that they were glad at being thus told so bluntly by the Chairman of the Delegation of Plenipotentiaries that they had the fullest and most perfect freedom of actions in the discussion over ratification. Eamon de Valera for the first time smiled – not a mocking or an ironical smile but one that illuminated his grave and austere features.'

After the Dáil went into private session, the president again referred to the powers of the delegation. Although some people were confused about those powers, he left no doubt that the delegation had the right to sign the agreement. ‘Now I would like everybody clearly to understand,' he said, ‘that the plenipotentiaries went over to negotiate a Treaty, that they could differ from the cabinet if they wanted to, and that in anything of consequence they could take their decision against the decision of the cabinet.' He stressed the same point in the Dáil at least five other times during the debate. He also said on 14 December, for instance, ‘The plenipotentiaries, I repeat, had a perfect right to disagree with the cabinet and a perfect right to sign.' Three days later he said, ‘The plenipotentiaries got full powers if they wanted to sign on their own responsibility.' Moments later, he said, ‘The plenipotentiaries had full power to sign whether we liked it or not.' By using the term ‘plenipotentiaries', de Valera said they realised the delegates had ‘full power to negotiate and to take responsibility for negotiating and signing'. Earlier during the public session, he had said, ‘If there was a definite difference of opinion, it was the plenipotentiaries had the responsibility of making up their own minds and deciding on it.'

In short, de Valera's position was that the delegation had a right to sign but should not have done so in view of the under­taking given by Griffith at the cabinet meeting not to sign the draft treaty. ‘I think it only right to say there was a document there and Mr Griffith said he would not sign that document and a different document was signed,' Collins admitted. If this was the case, however, the new document should have been submitted to the cabinet in accordance with the instructions. There could be no doubt that Griffith had broken the undertaking involved either in his acceptance of the instructions or his declaration at the cabinet meeting on 3 December that he would not sign the draft terms being discussed.

De Valera was annoyed that they had not only signed with­out consulting him again but also published the text of the agreement. ‘They not merely signed the document but, in order to make the
fait accompli
doubly secure,' de Valera wrote, ‘they published it hours before the President or their colleagues saw it, and were already giving interviews in London and proclaiming its merits and prejudicing the issue at the time it was being read in Dublin.'

The president was clearly irritated that the plenipotentiaries had not taken their lead from him. ‘I was captaining a team,' he told the private session on the first afternoon of the debates, ‘and I felt that the team should have played with me to the last and I should have got the chance which I felt would put us over and we might have crossed the bar in my opinion at high tide. They rushed before the tide got to the top and almost foundered the ship.'

‘A captain who sent out his crew to sea, and tried to direct operations from dry land!' Collins remarked to those about him.

‘I am excusing myself to the Dáil as the captain of the ship and I can only say it is not my fault,' de Valera continued. ‘Had the Chairman of the delegation said he did not stand for the things they had said they stood for, he would not have been elected.' Here the president's argument was a patently disingenuous. He knew well where Griffith stood when he proposed him for the delegation, and that was why he sent Childers to keep an eye on him.

During the afternoon Collins called several times for the release of various documents relating to the latter stages of the negotiations so deputies could determined for themselves the difference between the signed terms and what the others wanted. In particular, he argued that the counter proposals, which were presented to the British on 4 December, should be ‘put side by side' with the Articles of Agreement. Otherwise people were likely to think that de Valera, Stack and Brugha had been standing for an isolated republic, whereas Collins himself believed the difference was not worth fighting over.

De Valera had come prepared to explain exactly what he wanted. He produced his own alternative, which Collins dubbed Document No. 2, and the name stuck. The president made the startling admission that it was ‘right to say that there will be very little difference in practice between what I may call the proposals received and what you will have under what I propose. There is very little in practice but there is that big thing that you are consistent and that you recognise yourself as a separate independent State and you associate in an honourable manner with another group.' He contended that if the Dáil stood by his counter proposals, the British would ‘not go to war for the difference. In other words, both Collins and de Valera were saying that the difference was not worth fighting over.

‘I felt the distance between the two was so small that the British would not wage war on account of it,' de Valera ex­plained. ‘You may say if it is so small why not take it. But I say, that small difference makes all the difference. This fight has lasted through the centuries and I would be willing to win that little sentimental thing that would satisfy the aspirations of the country.'

Document No. 2 included External Association on the lines of the proposals put forward by the delegation during the final weeks of the London conference. There was no oath in the new document, but there was a stipulation that ‘for the purposes of the Association, Ireland shall recognise His Britannic Majesty as head of the Association'. Britain would be afforded the same defence concessions, except that instead of stipulating that the two countries would reconsider the defence clauses in five years, the alternative stated that coastal defence would be handed over ‘to the Irish Government, unless some other arrangement for naval defence was agreed upon by both Governments'. The partition clauses were also included practically verbatim in the alternative document, except that there was a declaration to the effect that ‘the right of any part of Ireland to be excluded from the supreme authority of the National Parliament and Government' was not being recognised.