Latest / The History of Ireland: Rebellion, Empire, and Independence — Fexingo History / The Cumann na mBan: Ireland's Forgotten Rebel Women
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've spent a lot of episodes covering the big battles and political turning points of the Irish independence struggle — the Easter Rising, the War of Independence, the Civil War. But there's a whole layer of the story that often gets overlooked, and I think it's time we talked about the women who were right there in the thick of it. Luna: You mean Cumann na mBan? Lucas: Exactly — Cumann na mBan, which is Irish for 'the Women's Council' or 'the League of Women.' It was founded in 1914, at a meeting in Wynn's Hotel in Dublin, as a female auxiliary to the Irish Volunteers. But they were never just tea-makers and bandage-rollers, which is how they were often portrayed later. From the start, they were involved in smuggling arms, delivering dispatches, and providing first aid — but also in actual combat. Lucas: And before we go deep on that, I want to say something honest. This show is completely listener-funded — no ads, no corporate backing. A small group of people chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo, and that's what keeps us making episodes like this. If you've been following along, that's the reason we can do deep dives on subjects like Cumann na mBan that don't always get the attention they deserve. Luna: Yeah, it's a good reminder that this kind of history relies on people who care. Lucas: Absolutely. So — back to 1914. The founding meeting of Cumann na mBan was chaired by Agnes O'Farrelly, and the first president was Countess Markievicz, though she was in prison at the time. The organization's constitution was clear: they were dedicated to advancing the cause of Irish freedom, and they would be armed and ready. That was radical — it was one thing for women to support the nationalist movement from the sidelines, but quite another for them to formally take up arms. Luna: And they did take up arms in 1916. Lucas: They did. When the Easter Rising broke out on April 24, 1916, Cumann na mBan members were active in every major rebel position. They were in the General Post Office alongside Patrick Pearse and James Connolly. They were in the Four Courts, in St. Stephen's Green, in Boland's Mill. They served as couriers, carrying messages between positions under heavy fire. They scouted British troop movements and smuggled ammunition. And some of them fought — including a woman named Margaret Skinnider, who was a Scottish-born teacher and a member of the Irish Citizen Army, but many Cumann na mBan women were in combat roles too. Luna: And they paid the price for it. Lucas: Absolutely. After the surrender, the British arrested about 70 Cumann na mBan members, including Countess Markievicz, who was sentenced to death — commuted to life in prison because she was a woman. Others were imprisoned in Kilmainham Gaol or interned in England. But here's the thing: in the official narrative that followed, the role of women in the Rising was downplayed. Even within the republican movement, there was a tendency to see them as auxiliaries, not as soldiers. And that erasure continued for decades. Luna: So Cumann na mBan continued after the Rising? Lucas: Yes — and they were crucial in the War of Independence that followed. They raised funds, ran safe houses, smuggled weapons, and spread propaganda. But they also faced a lot of internal tension. In 1919, when the First Dáil was established, Cumann na mBan demanded full equality within the republican movement. But the male leadership was resistant. There was this idea that women should be supportive but not leading. And that tension exploded over the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921. Lucas: When the Treaty was signed, Cumann na mBan was overwhelmingly opposed to it. They saw it as a betrayal of the republic. So when the Civil War broke out in 1922, most of them sided with the anti-Treaty IRA. And again, they were in the thick of it — they ran field hospitals, smuggled messages, and some even fought. But after the Civil War, the bitterness was deep. The pro-Treaty government, under figures like Michael Collins and later Éamon de Valera, was suspicious of them. And the Free State government imprisoned hundreds of republican women — including many Cumann na mBan members — without trial. Luna: It sounds like they were punished for being on the losing side, but also for being women who stepped out of line. Lucas: Exactly right. There's a well-documented case of a woman named Mary MacSwiney — sister of Terence MacSwiney, the hunger striker — who was arrested and went on hunger strike herself. She was force-fed. And she was a teacher who lost her job because of her republican activities. That was the pattern: women who were active in Cumann na mBan found themselves shut out of professional life, blacklisted, and often impoverished. The post-independence Irish state was deeply conservative, and the 1937 Constitution, drafted by de Valera, explicitly enshrined women's role as being in the home. Luna: So their legacy was buried. Lucas: For a long time, yes. But in recent decades, historians have been recovering their stories. There's a book by Margaret Ward, 'Unmanageable Revolutionaries,' that really does justice to the movement. And we now know that Cumann na mBan didn't just disappear after the Civil War. They continued as a republican women's organization, supporting the IRA, and they were active in the 1960s and 70s as well. But the core of their story — the women who risked everything for a republic that then sidelined them — is a powerful and sobering chapter in Irish history. Luna: It makes you wonder how many other stories we're missing. Lucas: Probably a lot. And that's what keeps us digging. I think the lesson is that history isn't just about the people who get their names in the textbooks — it's also about the people who were there, who did the work, and who got written out. And Cumann na mBan is a perfect example.