sovereignty.96 More than that, the document was meant to serve as an indication of the altruistic value system aspired to by the fledgling state, not as a dogmatic or a contractual statement of intent. And, finally, there was the fact that Labour Party officials were its principal authors, hence its left-wing tones.97
The negotiations which begot that document were conducted in private, with Mulcahy assisting Boland, then nominal president of the IRB, as the principal, but overtaxed, fixer on the Sinn Féin side.98 Mulcahy’s involvement, similar to Ó Ceallaigh’s, was probably facilitated by him being a member of Sinn Féin’s Foreign Affairs committee. In any event, he devoted more time and energy to this project than he did to the other preparations. For instance, on 18 September, he and Rory O’Connor conferred with some of the elite members of the Irish Trade Union Council and Labour Party, as Labour was then called, namely Johnson, O’Shannon, William O’Brien, J.J. (Séamus) Hughes and Thomas Farren,99 who, at that time, were still dithering before eventually deciding to abstain eleven days later.100 (Evidence that these meetings were not all sweetness and light can be found in Boland’s belated discovery, sometime in October, that he had been ‘outmanoeuvred’ by Cathal O’Shannon.101) And, of the eight private meetings which were held between representatives of Sinn Féin and Labour, within the period 13 December–21 January, Mulcahy and Collins attended four times, in comparison to Rory O’Connor who attended three times; Brugha once and, after mid-January, Gavan Duffy, almost certainly because of his legal training, three times.102 Also, in the same period, Mulcahy and O’Brien met each other on 13 December.103 They met again on 1 January, along with Hughes.104 In any event, an agreement of sorts was not reached until 14 January when, ‘at the request of the Sinn Féin leaders’, O’Shannon and Johnson produced the first draft of the document.105
However, from the pared-down, militarist and separatist Fenian perspective, the socio-economic emphasis of the draft proved unacceptable to Collins in particular, who, on the morning of 20 January, called an impromptu meeting of a small number of his IRB people – Ó Ceallaigh, Boland and Mulcahy included almost certainly – in order to discuss the proposal.106 As a consequence, during the early hours of the inauguration morning, Ó Ceallaigh altered the document to the form of a compromise which was acceptable to both sides and it was that document, with the title, the Democratic Programme, which was presented to the assembled dignitaries during the afternoon.107
Nonetheless, on balance, even though the document managed to bring together the republican principles emanating from Pearse’s GPO proclamation – ‘the Nation’s sovereignty extends not alone to all men and women of the Nation, but to all of its material possessions’ – and the socialist dogmas of the left – ‘to a general and lasting improvement in the conditions under which the working classes live and labour’108 – its aspirational emphasis still favoured the latter constituency to such an extent that, during its exposition in the Mansion House, a tearful Johnson only barely managed to refrain from applauding, so proud was he of the document, modifications and all.109 This meant that, conversely, for appearances sake, Collins and his IRB associates finally opted to accept a document which, at the time, was not in accord with their own image as dyed-in-the-wool, physical force, separatists.
Arguably the process of keeping up appearances was most evident in Mulcahy’s own contribution. Speaking exclusively through the medium of Irish, the principal language of the ceremony, he, with Con Collins seconding, proposed the acceptance of the document and, in the process, even though he himself had no interest in socialism, flexibly delivered a speech which, in the opinion of a historian of the left, was worthy of James Connolly himself:110 ‘A Nation cannot live and function while any part of its people are denied the right to the assets and riches which God bestowed on all of us … I ask you to accept this motion. Let us enshrine it in our laws, and, in our actions, let us remember those whom it is our duty to teach and to defend.’ At the same time, to be fair to him, his speech was genuine to the extent that its other sentiments were in the nature of a nationalist prayer of praise, an attribute which was not to be found in Connolly’s anti-clerical oeuvre: ‘this country … is beautiful like God made her, rich from the toil of her people, bright with laughter, blissful with mirth, holy with religion and benevolence’.111
Next day, in secret session and in the absence of de Valera et al., the Dáil provisionally appointed the following Aireacht or Cabinet (hereafter simply cited as the Cabinet, a term which will also be used to describe the executive of the merged Dáil Cabinet and Provisional Government for the period, 9 September–6 December 1922): President (Brugha); Defence (Mulcahy); Finance (MacNeill); Foreign Affairs (Plunkett); and Home Affairs (Collins), This Cabinet lasted roughly two months and Liam de Róiste had this to say of it: ‘I find in the papers that “The Republican Government” has done this; that “Dáil Éireann” has done that; that such and such has been authorised by the “Republican Headquarters” or by the “Sinn Féin Executive” – things which I, as a fact, know have not been discussed by any such bodies … Isn’t it great to be a public representative!!’112
It is understandable that de Róiste felt irritated. The Dáil did not sit during the period 23 January–31 March due to the worsening violence throughout the country. Nonetheless, de Róiste’s complaints do indicate that Brugha, Collins and Mulcahy were able to exercise a great deal of political power in a tough adroit manner: ‘bossism’.113 Also, Collins and Mulcahy, much more than Brugha, interested themselves in Sinn Féin’s political routine as an adjunct to their Cabinet responsibilities. They attended virtually all of the standing committee meetings. Mulcahy, along with Brugha, Collins, Boland and Mrs Wyse Power, partook in a sub-committee to formulate the agenda and suggest a scheme for a new standing committee to be presented to the Sinn Féin Executive on 20 February. On 6 March, he seconded Collins’ motion that an advertisement should be placed in the Sunday Independent seeking funds for Dáil Éireann and, in the same month, he and Boland organised public meetings throughout the country for the release of the German Plot prisoners. Apart from de Valera, whose escape from Lincoln Jail had successfully been engineered by Collins and Boland on 3 February, these prisoners were eventually released thirty-two days later on humanitarian grounds due to the ravages of the flu pandemic.114
And so, on the eve of the establishment of the Dáil’s first permanent Cabinet, 1–2 April 1919, at a time when he was approaching the age of thirty-three and when the country was on the verge of war, Mulcahy occupied a politico–military position of significant importance. Effectively, the act of hitching his star to Collins and his military-based IRB group facilitated, if not guaranteed, his promotion on to the Volunteer resident executive as DT and on to GHQ, maybe as CS, but certainly soon afterwards as acting CS in Brugha’s absence. Also, without de Valera, but, more so, without Brugha, he was given the opportunity to morph into the deal-making world of party politics, an opportunity he grasped with both hands by becoming a senior member of Sinn Féin, winning a seat in parliament and negotiating an agreement on the Democratic Programme with Labour.
All of those events contributed to his new-found status as an eager, astute, quiet-mannered, but somewhat aloof, achiever. So, even though, as yet, he had not reached the very top of the nationalist elite, the circumstances of the imminent military independence struggle would improve his standing still further. However, that war was also to end a decade of romantic nationalism for him. Instead of confirming him in the bold radical image which he had lately acquired, it exposed him as a conservative individual. Indeed, deep down, during the previous nine months, while practicing the art of politics as an IRB member but also as an increasingly prominent member of Sinn Féin, he might have already begun to think that way. But, for certain, during his mid-thirties he became socially distant, politically complex and militarily circumspect.
CHAPTER 5
Confined
IRA GHQ, 1919–21
On 2 April 1919, after de Valera, who had been chosen as President the day before, had submitted the names of the first full Cabinet to the Dáil, Brugha, now Minister for Defence, explained that, because of the demands of his business commitments, he was immediately establishing the position of Assistant Minister for Defence (AMD) at a salary of £300.1 Mulcahy was not named there and then, even though, seemingly, Brugha had already settled with him that he would become the new AMD,2 while continuing to hold down the position