Latest / The History of Ireland: Rebellion, Empire, and Independence — Fexingo History / Ireland's Free State: The Irish Civil War 1922-1923
Transcript
- Lucas: So, after the War of Independence and the Anglo-Irish Treaty, you'd think Ireland might have had a moment of peace. But instead, it plunged straight into a civil war—a conflict that was arguably even more painful than the one against the British. Luna: A civil war over the treaty, right? Lucas: Exactly. The treaty that Michael Collins and Arthur Griffith had signed in December 1921 gave Ireland dominion status, not a republic. And it included an oath of allegiance to the British Crown. For many Republicans, that was a betrayal of the ideals of 1916. The Dáil narrowly approved the treaty by 64 votes to 57, and that split ran deep. Lucas: Éamon de Valera, who had been President of the Republic, resigned in protest. He led the anti-Treaty faction, which included many in the IRA. The pro-Treaty side, led by Collins and Griffith, formed a provisional government. The tension simmered for months before it boiled over. Luna: What was the trigger? The Four Courts? Lucas: Exactly. In April 1922, anti-Treaty IRA forces occupied the Four Courts in Dublin, the centre of the Irish judicial system. They wanted to restart the war with Britain and reject the treaty. For months, the provisional government tried to avoid conflict—they even negotiated a pact with de Valera for a unity election. But it fell apart. Lucas: Then on June 22, 1922, Sir Henry Wilson, a British military advisor, was assassinated in London by two IRA men. The British government pressured Collins to act. Under that pressure, and after the kidnapping of a pro-Treaty general, Collins ordered the bombardment of the Four Courts. Luna: So it was the British ultimatum that forced his hand? Lucas: Partly. Collins had been trying to avoid a split, but the Four Courts garrison was defiant. On June 28, the provisional government used borrowed British artillery to shell the building. After two days, the republicans surrendered, but the damage was done—fighting broke out in Dublin and spread across the country. Lucas: The civil war was a guerrilla conflict, just like the War of Independence, but now it was Irishman against Irishman. The anti-Treaty IRA, often called the Irregulars, held much of the south and west. The National Army, led by Collins, had superior numbers and equipment, including arms from Britain. Luna: It must have been devastating for families and communities. Lucas: It was. Towns like Limerick, Cork, and Waterford saw fierce fighting. The republicans used flying columns, ambushes, and sabotage, just as they had against the British. But the Free State government responded ruthlessly. They executed republican prisoners, sometimes without trial, in an effort to break the rebellion. Lucas: In August 1922, both Arthur Griffith and Michael Collins died within ten days of each other. Griffith died of a brain hemorrhage, probably brought on by stress. And Collins—well, Collins was killed in an ambush at Béal na Bláth in County Cork, on August 22. He was just 31. Luna: Béal na Bláth. That's still such a loaded name in Irish history. Lucas: Absolutely. Collins's death was a massive blow. The command of the National Army passed to Richard Mulcahy and Seán Mac Eoin. They continued the hardline policy. In November, the government executed four republican leaders, including Erskine Childers, who had been a close ally of de Valera. Lucas: De Valera himself was on the run. He later said he regretted not being captured earlier, because he might have been able to end the fighting sooner. But the republicans held out until May 1923, when the IRA chief of staff, Frank Aiken, ordered a ceasefire. The war had cost about 1,000 lives. Luna: And it left deep wounds in Irish politics. Lucas: Unquestionably. The pro-Treaty side became Cumann na nGaedheal, which governed until 1932. De Valera's anti-Treaty faction eventually founded Fianna Fáil in 1926. They entered the Dáil in 1927, and by 1932, de Valera was Prime Minister. So the civil war determined the shape of Irish politics for decades. Lucas: The civil war also cemented partition. Northern Ireland remained outside the conflict, but the division between north and south hardened. The Free State was stable, but it was a conservative, Catholic state, heavily influenced by the church. The legacy of the civil war—the split over the treaty, the bitterness—it lingered for generations. Luna: Is there any sense of reconciliation, or is it still a raw nerve? Lucas: It's complicated. For a long time, the civil war was a taboo subject. Families didn't talk about it. In recent decades, historians have begun to explore it more openly. But the emotional scars are still there. In a way, the civil war was Ireland's original sin—the moment when the dream of a united, independent Ireland fractured. Lucas: And yet, out of that tragedy, the Irish state emerged. The Free State proved it could govern, even if it did so through harsh means. The civil war taught hard lessons about compromise and the cost of ideological purity. It's a story that still shapes how Ireland understands itself today. Luna: That's a heavy note to end on, but a fitting one. Lucas: It is. And it's a reminder that the fight for Irish independence didn't end with the treaty—it just took a different, more painful form.