Clare People: Eamon De Valera Eamon De Valera (1882-1975) Eamon de Valera was born in Manhattan, New York, on 14th October 1882. His father was Juan de Valera, a Spaniard who had studied to be a sculptor but due to ill-health he had reverted to teaching music. In September 1881, Juan de Valera had married Kate Coll from Knockmore, near Bruree, Co. Limerick, a young girl who had emigrated to America two years earlier. His father died when de Valera was only two years old and his mother decided that her son would be better off at home in Ireland. She sent him to be reared by his grandmother, Elizabeth Coll, who lived in a labourerï¿½s cottage at Knockmore. De Valera attended the national school at Bruree and from there went to the Christian Brotherï¿½s School at Charleville. He walked the seven miles there and back everyday since the Collï¿½s could not afford a bicycle. At 16, he won a scholarship to Blackrock College, Co. Dublin.

He went on to become a professor of mathematics and lectured part-time at Maynooth and various Dublin colleges. At school and later he was a keen rugby player. In 1908, he joined the Gaelic League, the beginning of his life-long devotion to Irish. One of his teachers was Sinead Flanagan, herself a teacher and four years his senior. They fell in love and were married in January 1910. De Valera joined the Irish Volunteers at their first meeting in 1913. He took part in the landing of guns from the Asgard in July 1914. He commanded the Bolandï¿½s Mills garrison during the 1916 rising. After the surrender he was sentenced to death, but later it was decided to sentence him to life imprisonment instead. In prison, de Valera began to show his leadership qualities. De Valera was released from prison in June 1917 and was elected Sinn Fein deputy for East Clare. At the Sinn Fein Ard-Fheis in October 1917, de Valera was elected President of the party and at the end of the same month he was elected President of the Irish Volunteers.

When the British Government proposed to extend conscription to Ireland in early 1918, de Valera led the successful opposition to this proposal. On 17 May 1918, De Valera was arrested and deported for internment to England, where he was to remain up to February 1919. While he was in jail he was elected for East Clare in the general election. On 21 January 1919, the assembled deputies met in the Mansion House, Dublin, and formally set up the Government for the Irish Republic. After his escape from Lincoln Jail on 3 February 1919, de Valera returned briefly to Ireland and was elected President of the Dail. Early in June 1919, he travelled to the U.S.A. to seek financial and political support for an independent Ireland. He returned to Ireland in December 1920 to take his place as the President of Ireland. From the very start the Dail had to face a number of serious problems, the lack of experience of the new government. The War of Independence was raging at this time with the regular British forces being assisted by the ï¿½Black and Tansï¿½.

The ï¿½Black and Tansï¿½ were ex-army men brought into Ireland to assist the British in the War of Independence. A truce was declared on 11 July and negotiations were opened with the English Prime Minister, Lloyd George, and his government leading up to the signing of the Anglo-Irish Treaty on 6 December 1921. The Treaty was accepted in the Dail on 7 January 1922 with 64 in favour and 57 against. As an opponent of the Treaty, de Valera tendered his resignation to the Dáil. Arthur Griffith was elected President in the place of de Valera. During the Civil War of 1922-1923 between the pro-Treaty Provisional Government under Michael Collins and its opponents, de Valera supported the anti-Treaty Republicans. An ‘Emergency Government’ was formed by the Republicans with de Valera as president. In May 1923 the Republicans called a cease fire and resistance ended.

De Valera was arrested on 15 August 1923, under the Public Safety Act, as he was about to make a speech at Ennis and was imprisoned until July 1924. Despite this, Clare elected de Valera top of the poll in the general election on 27 August 1923. De Valera continued to represent Clare for the rest of his active political career. As part of the Anglo-Irish Treaty which ended the War of Independence all members of the Oireachtas were obliged to take an oath of allegiance (swear loyalty) to the King of Great Britain. Towards the end of 1925, de Valera and the I.R.A. found that they were on opposite sides on this issue and Sinn Fein was split in two. De Valera had made remarks which suggested that if the oath were removed, he would sit in Dail Eireann. In March 1926, he resigned as President of Sinn Fein over this issue and decided to launch a new party. In May 1926 at a meeting in Dublin, de Valera founded a new political party called Fianna Fail.

The aims of the party were: A united Ireland as a Republic. To restore the Irish Language and develop the Irish culture. To develop a social system where there is an equal opportunity for all. To have a fair system of land distribution in Ireland. To make Ireland as self-sufficient as possible, with a proper balance between agriculture and other industries. In November 1926, Fianna Fail held its first Ard-Fheis and de Valera was elected President of the new organisation. In the general election of June 1927, his party won 44 seats and Cumann na nGaedhael won 47 seats which was a large drop for them. When de Valera and his fellow Fianna Fail deputies arrived at Leinster House, they were refused permission to take their seats unless they first took the oath. They then retired and Cumann na nGaedhael formed the government. Fianna Fail, however, continued to campaign for the removal of the Oath. In order to spread their ideas, the Fianna Fail party founded a daily newspaper, the Irish Press, in September 1931.

Fianna Fail, supported by the Labour Party, formed a Government in 1932, having earlier overcome their objections to the Oath by simply signing a book containing the oath, which they declared an ï¿½Empty Formulaï¿½. In office, the party finally removed the oath by legislation in 1933. On 1 September 1939, Germany invaded Poland and began the Second World War. On 2 September in Dail Eireann, de Valera declared that the 26 counties would remain neutral. This policy was generally accepted. Many people, while disliking the Nazi regime in Germany, still distrusted Britain and resented the partition of Ireland. The war years became commonly known in Ireland as ï¿½The Emergencyï¿½. Each person was given a special ration-book due to the shortages of everyday items. The post-war years brought continued economic problems with rising prices, emigration and growing unemployment. This did not make de Valera and his government very popular.

When a sudden general election was called by de Valera in 1948, Fianna Fail gained only 68 seats out of 147 and the anti-Fianna Fail parties came together to form a coalition government. In June 1959, he was elected President of Ireland. He received many visitors including Presidents Charles de Gaulle and John Kennedy. He was re-elected President in 1966 at the age of 83. He received honorary degrees from universities in Ireland and abroad. After 14 years as president (the longest time allowed), he retired from office in June 1973. Eamon de Valera died on 29 August 1975 at the age of ninety-two. He was buried in Glasnevin cemetery after a state funeral. As a T.D. for Clare for a period of some forty years, de Valera was a familiar figure in the County. His Election Campaigns were highlights in the political life of the area over this time while his regular attendance at local events, such as the County Show, kept him in the public eye.

Depending on oneï¿½s political leanings, de Valera either generated immense support or active hostility from the Clare Electorate. DE VALERA’S CAR This car is a 1947 Plymouth Dodge, registration number ZH 1333. Originally maroon in colour, the car was manufactured by the Chrysler Corporation in Detroit, U.S.A. It is 226 inches long, 75 inches wide and 66 inches high. Weighing approximately 2 tons, the car can seat 8 people plus the driver. It was purchased new for Sean T. Ó Ceallaigh during his term of office as President of Ireland. Sean T. Ó Ceallaigh personally drove the car for 12 years, until his presidential term ended in 1959. In 1959 Eamon de Valera purchased the car for his own personal use, and had it painted black. Although he continued to use the official Rolls Royce on formal state occasions, President de Valera often drove the Dodge to political functions around the country and regularly drove the car around County Clare. In 1988 the Dodge was presented to Clare County Council by Dr.

Eamon de Valera and Ann de Valera on the wishes of their late sister, Margaret. This specially-built display garage was sponsored by Syntex Ireland Ltd. (now Roche Ireland Ltd.), and officially unveiled by President Mary Robinson in 1992. In 2011, Councillor P.J. Ryan, Clare County Council, generously gave of his time and expertise to restore the Dodge, which was very much a part of Clare’s social and political history. Original Whitewall tyres and a six-volt battery were sourced from America, and repairs were made to brakes, exhaust, steering and bodywork. David Browne, of John Browne’s Auto Bodyshop in Cratloe, generously assisted with restoring the bodywork. Interview with Cllr. P J Ryan on the Mooney Show, RTï¿½, 5th May 2011, regarding the restoration of the car. Mooney audio is courtesy of RTï¿½ Radio Libraries and Archives.

"Meeting at Ennis, County Clare, applauds Fianna Fail leader's fighting speech in open air." Eamon De Valera - the Irish Machiavelli who destroyed Michael Collins | IrishCentral.com Eamon De Valera - the Irish Machiavelli who destroyed Michael Collins / Eamon de Valera.Library of Congress. I was visiting my first cousin Jerry Bartley in Dublin in June 1975 when he suggested that I might want to attend a gathering of the John McCormack Society at the Gresham Hotel in O’Connell Street . I’ve never been a fan of the great tenor (he can be seen sometimes on Turner Classic Movies in "Song o’ My Heart"), so I gently declined. “Too bad,” said Jerry, “I thought you might want to meet the President.” Back then, the only “President” that registered in Ireland was the Long Fellow, Eamon de Valera , who had either been Taoiseach or President of Ireland, it seemed, ever since there had been an Irish state. Jerry knew my keen interest in Irish revolutionary history and he was right—this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

I got to the auditorium in the Gresham and wisely took a seat on the aisle. At the intermission, de Valera’s aide announced that the President wasn’t feeling well and that he was going to leave. What happened next has stuck in my brain ever since. As he walked down the aisle he extended both of his hands to the side—not unlike the Virgin Mary atop the globe with serpent underfoot—and allowed people to touch him. As he came to me I took his hand and said, “How are you, Mr. President?” He mutely nodded to me and moved on. Even at 92, he had an imposing physical presence—he towered over me—which must have made him an outsized figure to friend and foe alike. Just two months after our brief meeting he was dead. What remains with me to this day is de Valera’s exit. It was the exit of a master politician, a man who knew his constituency and understood his place in history. Basically, he understood that he was a living symbol of Ireland’s struggle for independence. At this time Michael Collins had been dead for 53 years and was only beginning to reemerge as a national hero.

Margery Forester’s biography "Michael Collins: The Lost Leader" had just been published and slowly Collins—who had been almost airbrushed out of Irish history by de Valera and his party in much the same way the Kremlin politburo under Stalin removed undesirables from official photos—was coming back to life, perhaps even bigger and more colorful than he ever was. But de Valera’s handshake reminded me that what he really was—a politician. In comparison Collins was an elite revolutionary first, then a politician. Conversely, de Valera was a politician first, then a revolutionary who, after 1916, only had a distant relationship with what the salaciousness of urban guerrilla warfare—as designed by Michael Collins in his absence—was really like. 6 Harry Boland, Michael Collins and Eamon De Valera photographed in the Phoenix Park. De Valera and “The Emergency” As someone who has written two novels about Collins —"The 13th Apostle" and "Terrible Angel"—I wanted to know what made de Valera tick. Unlike other Collins loyalists, I do not find fault with everything Dev did while in office.

I think some of the things he did in separating the Irish Free State from British hegemony were called for, including the revamping of the government in 1937. Many find his neutrality during Ireland’s “Emergency” (everywhere else known as World War II) hard to fathom. I don’t. The British had been lining up Irish revolutionaries for centuries and shooting them. De Valera had been condemned to death in 1916 and was only reprieved by his natural born American citizenship. He had every right to hold a grudge against the British—a very Irish trait! Although “neutral” during the war, de Valera did come to the aid of Belfast when it was bombed (by sending the Dublin Fire Brigade) and he did remind Nazi Germany that Northern Ireland, under the Irish constitution, was a de facto part of the Irish Free State, thus stopping the bombing. He returned Allied fliers downed in Ireland while interning German ones. He also kept a close eye on the German diplomatic delegation to make sure they were not plotting espionage from Ireland.

The one giant stain on this neutral policy in favor of the Allies was an odd one—he traveled to the German legation on Northumberland Road to express his condolences on the death of Adolf Hitler. Oddly enough, he did not extend the same courtesy for President Roosevelt, who had died three weeks earlier. 6 De Valera photographed as president in 1958. His biggest political fault may have been his narcissism—he would not leave. After the war he remained on as either Taoiseach or leader of his party until 1959, blocking younger members, including Seán Lemass, who, finally, became Taoiseach in 1959 at the age of 60 (they had to pack de Valera off to Áras an Uachtaráin as the new president to get him out of the Fianna Fáil leadership). The Irish Machiavelli But as a student of Collins, the three things that disturb me most about de Valera are his dealings with Collins between 1919 and 1922. The first Dáil met at the Mansion House in Dublin on January 21, 1919.

At that meeting de Valera was recorded as “fé ghlas ag Gallaibh”—“imprisoned by the foreign enemy.” Michael Collins was not there that day either. He was in England planning de Valera’s escape from Lincoln Gaol, which he pulled off on February 4, 1919. Back in Dublin (the embarrassed British did not pursue him at this time) Dev was elected Príomh Aire (First Minister or Prime Minister) of the Dáil. De Valera spent an inordinate amount of time in prison during the War of Independence (in 1918 he ignored Collins’ warning and allowed himself to be arrested by the British thus landing in Lincoln Gaol). While in prison he apparently came under the influence of Niccolò Machiavelli’s "The Prince," which might be called a handbook for the ruthless passive-aggressive politician.

The Random House College Dictionary defines Machiavellian “as being or acting in accordance with the principles of government analyzed in Machiavelli’s treatise, 'The Prince' (1513), in which political expediency is placed above morality; characterized by unscrupulous cunning, deception or dishonesty.” The only thing missing in this dictionary definition is a picture of Richard Nixon, Machiavelli’s bastard love child. According to de Valera’s highly-prejudiced (in favor of Collins) biographer Tim Pat Coogan, Dev once said to Richard Mulcahy, Chief of Staff of the IRA, who was very close to Collins, “You are a young man going in for politics. I will give you two pieces of advice—study economics and read 'The Prince.'” Mulcahy subsequently did read the book but found it “a handbook for teddy-boys. A way for exerting gangsterism on a part of Italy.” The First Abdication—The Star-Spangled Retreat I often refer to de Valera’s “Abdications.” The first occurred on May 1919 when he left Ireland for America, not to return for 20 months.

At this point, the war was beginning to heat up as the IRA began to confront the British and Collins’ Squad (“The Twelve Apostles”) was on the verge of putting the heat on the “G-Men,” the intelligence agents of the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC). I cannot think of similar situations where a revolutionary leader left his country voluntarily during wartime. It’s as if George Washington had said in 1776: “I’ll see you guys in a couple of years.” Other revolutionaries may have been deported or forced to flee, but de Valera did this on his own, supposedly to bring Ireland’s message to the world and raise money for the cause. While abroad, de Valera’s vacuum would be more than ably filled by the Minister for Finance, Michael Collins. During this period (May 1919-December 1920) the war was essentially won by Collins and his men. Collins once famously said “Whoever controls Dublin controls Ireland” and he proved this true by terrorizing the British so much that they introduced the Black and Tans and Auxiliaries to control the Irish population.

The final blow was on Bloody Sunday, November 21, 1920, when the Squad assassinated 14 British intelligence officers, terminating much of the British control of Dublin, and thus Ireland. While in America de Valera’s deviousness manifested itself in the chasms he caused among the American Fenians. John Devoy, leader of Clan na Gael, came to despise him and his Machiavellian ways. Terry Golway in his biography of Devoy wrote: “Devoy would later write that had it been up to him, he’d have had de Valera shot rather than waste the government’s time and money with a mere prison sentence.” 6 John Devoy (right) photographed with Roger Casement. De Valera Returns from America On December 23, 1920—one month and two days after Bloody Sunday—de Valera arrived back in Dublin. He was greeted by Tom Cullen and Batt O’Connor, two of Collins’ closest friends, at the boat. De Valera asked how things were going. “Great,” gushed Cullen.

“The Big Fellow is leading us and everything is going marvelous.” “Big Fellow,” de Valera huffed, “We’ll see who’s the Big Fellow!” It was apparent that Eamon de Valera did not return to Ireland to play second fiddle to Michael Collins. It was during this period (December 1920-July 1921) that the Irish and English tried to figure out how to get out of the quagmire that had become Ireland. De Valera quickly downsized Collins with the help of Cathal Brugha and Austin Stack. Collins’ stark tongue and brutal efficiency had been felt by both of them during de Valera’s absence. Collins had shamelessly poached Brugha’s portfolio as the Minister for Defence and had mocked Stack’s work at Home Affairs. Now it was payback time. Collins and de Valera also differed on how the war was to proceed. Soon after he returned from America de Valera told Mulcahy “You are going too fast. This odd shooting of a policeman here and there is having a very bad effect, from the propaganda point of view, on us in America.

What we want is, one good battle about once a month with about 500 men on each side.” Collins was incensed. While he and his men had put their lives on the line every day, sleeping in a different bed every night, this is the thanks he got from someone who had been living it up at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York City for the past two years. Subsequently, De Valera finally got his “one good battle.” Dev decided to burn down the Customs House in May 1921. Collins was against it and tried to protect his men and his Squad from participating in it as much as he could. It was obvious that de Valera didn’t understand guerrilla warfare. The Customs House burned, but over 100 volunteers were apprehended. Collins knew his army was close to elimination. Ironically, the British misjudged their victory. They did not know that they had delivered a near fatal death blow to the Dublin IRA and now had them on the ropes. They wrongly concluded that this audacious act proved that the IRA was strong and far from defeated.

Both de Valera and the British got it wrong—and in the fog of war, King George V brokered a truce within two months. This is one of the few times in history where two wrongs made a right! The Second Abdication, the Treaty: “We Must Have Scapegoats” In July de Valera went to London to meet British Prime Minister David Lloyd George. It became apparent fairly quickly how the whole scenario would play out. Two words were thrown about: Saorstat (Free State) and Phoblacht (Republic). Lloyd George liked Saorstat. He hated Phoblacht. De Valera knew exactly where he stood as he headed back to Dublin. Back in Dublin, the Machiavellian maneuverings began in the late summer. De Valera had no intention of getting himself stuck in this no-win situation. He hemmed-and-hawed trying to get himself out of the mess he found himself in. He knew he could not get a Republic from Lloyd George. If he went to London he knew the best he could hope for was a Free State with dominion status, such as Canada. He knew the hardcore Republicans would be outraged and would fry him. Some of Dev’s excuses are classic.

One was that as the “President” of Ireland—a country that did not exist in reality—he was head-of-state and could not negotiate with Lloyd George, who was the mere Prime Minister of Great Britain, and not the head-of-state (the King was). All his maneuvering finally saw Michael Collins, against his will, being sent in de Valera’s stead to work with the leader of the delegation, Arthur Griffith. “To me, the task is a loathsome one,” Collins wrote. “I go in the spirit of a soldier who acts against his best judgment at the orders of his superior.” According to Coogan’s biography, de Valera was heard commenting about the plenipotentiaries: “We must have scapegoats.” 6 Arthur Griffith, Michael Collins. Collins was suspicious from the start. He did not stay with the Irish delegation—he figured that Erskine Childers, the secretary of the delegation, was Dev’s in-house spy—so he set up his own household with the help of many of his intelligence agents at #3 Crow Street. De Valera expected Collins to fail—and must have been shocked when he brought an Irish Free State back with him from London.

Collins knew that he was in an impossible situation and commented on the morning of December 6, 1921, the day that the Treaty was signed, that he had signed his “actual death warrant.” The best way I can describe de Valera-Collins-Treaty triangle is crude, yet true: “The second mouse gets the cheese.” Collins found himself stuck in de Valera’s excellent Machiavellian mousetrap while the “Long ’Hoor”—as Collins now referred to Dev—nibbled at the cheese. The Third Abdication—Civil War In early 1922 the Dáil began the debate on the Treaty. De Valera proved himself to be an excellent parliamentarian—much to the chagrin and frustration of Collins who declared to the Dáil: “We will have no Tammany Hall methods here. Whether you are for the Treaty or whether you are against it, fight without Tammany Hall methods. We will not have them.” It was at this point that de Valera introduced what Alfred Hitchcock called in his films a “MacGuffin”: something that seems essential to the plot, but, in reality, has nothing important to do with the final outcome.

De Valera’s MacGuffin was the Oath of Allegiance to the King. Because of the Oath he and his followers could never, ever, vote for the Treaty. In "Michael Collins Own Story" by Hayden Talbot—which was supposed to be Collins’ autobiography but he died before it was published—Collins says of the controversy surrounding the Oath: “…No one but a factionist, looking for means of making mischief, would have thought it worthwhile to have risked wrecking the Treaty for.” Everyone knew, including de Valera, that if the Treaty was not approved the British would rush troops into Ireland as never before and there would be a war that the IRA could never win. “I am against this Treaty,” said de Valera, “not because I am a man of war but because I am a man of peace.” Not getting their way, de Valera and cohorts like Cathal Brugha and the Countess Markievicz left the Dáil in a huff. The Dáil approved the Treaty, as did the Irish people in an election on June 16, 1922.

De Valera was out of the picture; Arthur Griffith was now the new President of the Dáil and Michael Collins ran the new National Army as the anti-Treaty forces began their offensive. The “man of peace” had facilitated the Irish Civil War. If de Valera had remained in the government as the leader of the loyal opposition much of the angst and violence on both sides may have been avoided and this filthy war might have never happened. But he didn’t and the split in the country lasted for the rest of the 20th century.

In fact, de Valera’s biographer Tim Pat Coogan wrote: “His [De Valera’s] behavior after the Treaty was signed was irresponsible and caused lasting damage to his colleagues and to Ireland.” How De Valera’s Abdications Made Ireland—and his Political Career The irony of de Valera’s three abdications is that they led to the establishment of what today is the Republic of Ireland: - When he left Ireland in May 1919 he delegated the war to Collins who, through his intelligence system and intimidation, beat the British - By not going to London to lead the negotiations for the Treaty—and by sending Collins—he got the nation he tried to disown in the Dáil debates - By abdicating his responsibility as the loyal opposition and leaving the Dáil he guaranteed the passage of the Treaty not only in the Dáil but also at the ballot box. If the Treaty had been defeated, de Valera would not have had a country to eventually lead and his political career would have been altered tremendously or terminated - Looking back at Dev’s maneuverings it brings to mind one of the great lines of Irish politics. Oliver St.

John Gogarty, a great friend of Collins and Griffith and a long-time foe of de Valera, once said of the Long Fellow: “Every time he contradicts himself—he’s right!” - De Valera left the government in 1922, but he would return again as a TD in 1926 and in one of the great political hypocrisies of the 20th century took the Oath of Allegiance to the King in order to take his seat in the Dáil. (In 1933, as President, he abolished the Oath.) Perhaps de Valera was following one of the principals of his hero Machiavelli: “A prince never lacks legitimate reasons to break his promise.” I think it can be safely stated that with Collins in the political picture de Valera may not have had the political career he did. De Valera most certainly would have been challenged by Collins at every turn and if there was ever a man who could cut de Valera down to political-size, it was the quick-thinking and resourceful Collins. You can just imagine Dev in the Dáil trying to defend his failing policies under blistering questions from Collins.

It would have been great political theater, but it was not to be. Once again you can see the hand of Niccolò Machiavelli in de Valera’s maneuverings around Collins: “Men ought either to be indulged or utterly destroyed, for if you merely offend them they take vengeance, but if you injure them greatly they are unable to retaliate, so that the injury done to a man ought to be such that vengeance cannot be feared.” In the End, de Valera Comes Clean There were many petty things done to the memory of Michael Collins by de Valera. He even gave the Collins family a hard time when they wanted to erect a headstone at his grave in Glasnevin Cemetery in 1939. De Valera personally supervised the circumstances surrounding the placing of the Celtic cross marker and would allow neither family (except for Collins’ brother, Johnny) nor press to attend.

“With a final Machiavellian touch,” Coogan wrote, “to cover himself against a charge of pettiness at having the Prime Minister of the country interest himself in such a matter on the eve of a new world war, he describes himself as ‘acting Minister for Finance.’ ” 6 Michael Collins' grave in Glasnevin. It seems that it wasn’t until the advanced old age that de Valera came to acknowledge that Collins had contributed greatly to the creation of the Republic. In 1966 President de Valera was asked to contribute to an educational foundation named for Collins that would grant scholarships to deserving young men and women. De Valera declined to donate, but went on to state: “It is my considered opinion that in the fullness of time history will record the greatness of Michael Collins and it will be recorded at my expense.” * Dermot McEvoy is the author of the The 13th Apostle: A Novel of a Dublin Family, Michael Collins, and the Irish Uprising and Irish Miscellany (Skyhorse Publishing).

He may be reached at [email protected] Éamon de Valera — AOH Florida State Board Éamon de Valera Introduction Éamon de Valera was one of the dominant political figures in twentieth-century Ireland. His relationship with the people of the country was often strained and his attitude and motives have frequently puzzled historians throughout this century. The fact remains however, that without his involvement in the Irish Nationalist movement the course of Irish history would have been radically different. His political career spanned over half a century, from 1917 to 1973 during which he served multiple terms as head of government and head of state. Background Éamon de Valera was born in New York on October 14 in 1882 to Catherine Coll (a young Irish immigrant from County Limerick) and Juan Vivion DeValera (an immigrant of Spanish origin). Little is known of his early childhood except that his family moved from America in 1885 to Ireland where the young Éamon studied at Blackrock College in Dublin and was largely reared by his Grandmother. He studied languages and mathematics and was, like Michael Collins, a student of English Rule in Ireland.

The early 1900s was a time of the great Gaelic cultural revival in Ireland as literature, drama, sport and the language of the Gaelic nation were all revived. The main spearhead of the revival was The Gaelic League which he joined in 1908. He was greatly influenced by the League and learned the Irish language whilst immersing himself in the Gaelic culture. The Gaelic League was an obvious recruiting ground for the various revolutionary organizations of the time and it was not long before DeValera became a member of the Irish Republican Brotherhood. DeValera was second in command to Thomas MacDonagh of the Dublin Brigade during the Easter Rising of 1916. The Rising failed and the seven leaders, MacDonagh and Pearse among them, were executed, along with 9 other rebels. DeValera was also sentenced to death as an organizer of the revolt but was to escape the firing squad because of the confusion surrounding his ancestry (the English authorities did not, supposedly, want to risk the execution of an American citizen). DeValera was elected as the leader of Sinn Fein upon his release and set about the formation of an Irish parliament (the Dáil).

He was arrested in 1918 for subversion and imprisoned in England in Lincoln prison. With the help of Michael Collins he escaped to America to raise both funds for and consciousness about, the Irish plight. In his absence the War of Independence was being waged by Collins. The English Prime Minister of the time was Lloyd George who wanted to see an end to the violence. Éamon has often been characterized as a stern, unbending, devious, and divisive Irish politician. Biographer Tim Pat Coogan sees his time in power as being characterized by economic and cultural stagnation, while others argue that the stereotype of De Valera as an austere, cold and even backward figure was largely manufactured in the 1960s and is misguided. DeValera returned to negotiate with Lloyd George and soon realized that his ambition of a free and independent Ireland would not be granted. He returned home and sent a delegation led by Michael Collins to negotiate a settlement. The subsequent Anglo-Irish Treaty was ratified by the Dáil in 1922 but DeValera opposed both the partition of the country and the Oath of Allegiance to the English crown that the Treaty required.

A bloody Civil War followed which saw both the defeat of the Anti-Treaty side, led by DeValera, and the death of Michael Collins. DeValera was again imprisoned but released in 1926 when he formed the Fianna Fáil party. He now attempted to achieve his aims by the use of constitutional politics. By 1932 he had removed the Oath of Allegiance and sought about establishing an independent Ireland. He created an Irish Constitution in 1937, but an Irish Republic was not declared because of the partition of the country. DeValera resisted both bribes and threats from Churchill during the war years, (‘the emergency’), and it was not until the Costello led Government declared a Republic in 1948 that the effects of the Anglo-Irish Treaty were finally removed from the Southern part of Ireland. Partition remained. DeValera was Taoiseach of Ireland for much of the fifties and on 25 June, 1959 he was inaugurated as Uachtaráin (President) of Ireland, a position he held for 14 years.

He retired in 1973 and died shortly afterwards, on 29th August 1975 at the age of 92. Éamon’s Birth Certificate In the years since the death of the Irish statesman Eamon de Valera, and even during his lifetime, there has been considerable mystery concerning his paternal ancestry. It is known that de Valera was born in New York on 14 October 1882, the son of Vivion de Valera or Valero and Catherine or Kate Coll. De Valera fought in the Irish War of Independence but famously split with Michael Collins on the issue of the Treaty compromise with the British in 1921. De Valera inspired extremes of devotion and loathing, and his political opponents spread stories to the effect that he was illegitimate. First: Starting with the basic documentation, it can be seen that there are two versions of de Valera’s birth certificate. 1. The first document states his name as George and his father’s surname as de Valero; 2.

The second corrected version issued in 1910 (not 1916 as has been claimed) at the request of his mother, with the forename recorded as Edward (of which Eamon is the Gaelic form) and the family surname spelt de Valera. Second: Both certificates indicate that Vivion was born in Spain about 1854, and that Catherine was born in Ireland about 1858. While Catherine’s place of origin, near Bruree, County Limerick, is well documented, persistent efforts have so far failed to confirm Vivion’s country of birth. De Valera’s official biography states that his father Vivion Juan (an added second name) was born in Spain, that the latter’s father Juan ‘was engaged in the sugar trade between Cuba and Spain and the United States’, and that his mother Amelia Acosta ‘had died when he was young’. Vivion Juan and Catherine Coll are said to have been married in Greenville, New Jersey, on 19 September 1881.

The official biography further states that Vivion Juan worked as a music teacher, but as a result of illness left New York for the healthier air of Denver, Colorado, dying there or on the way in 1885. Intensive efforts, particularly by de Valera’s biographer Tim Pat Coogan and the genealogist Joseph M Silinonte, have failed to locate any marriage record, nor has a death record or indeed any further significant documentation relating to Vivion Juan been forthcoming. Disappointingly, a major reassessment of de Valera published under the auspices of the Royal Irish Academy failed to deal with the problematic issue of its subject’s paternity, indeed apparently ignoring Vivion de Valera altogether. A memoir by the late Terry de Valera, Eamon de Valera’s son, contains what is claimed to be a definitive account of the Hispanic origins of the family. It is furthered claimed that a connection has been established with the Valera family of Spain, and cousinship proven with the Marqués de Auñon. In this account it is stated that de Valera’s father Vivion Juan was a grandson of Antonio Valera of Seville in Spain, brother of the author and diplomat Juan Valera.

It is claimed that the family had interests in Cuba, and it was from there that Vivion Juan moved to the United States, marrying Kate Coll. Unfortunately, no documentation is cited to verify the connection with the Spanish Valeras, and the tale appears to be a largely imaginative development of de Valera’s own unsuccessful attempt to establish a link. At one point Terry de Valera concedes that the name Vivion ‘does not appear to have been used’ by the Spanish Valeras. The author angrily rejects the charge that Éamon de Valera’s parents may not have married, clearly responding to an implication in Coogan’s biography but without naming the author. Unfortunately, it remains a fact that no trace can be found of a marriage record of Vivion de Valera and Kate Coll, and in our hopefully more understanding times, there need be no problem considering the probability that their son Edward or Éamon was born out of wedlock.

Early Political Activity While he was already involved in the Gaelic Revival, de Valera’s involvement in the political revolution began on November 25 in 1913 when he joined the Irish Volunteers, which were formed to oppose the Ulster Volunteers and ensure the enactment of the Irish Parliamentary Party’s Third Home Rule Act won by its leader John Redmond. After the outbreak of World War I in August 1914, de Valera rose through the ranks and it was not long before he was elected captain of the Donnybrook company. Preparations were pushed ahead for an armed revolt, and he was made commandant of the Third Battalion and adjutant of the Dublin Brigade. He also took part in the Howth gun-running, which took place in Ireland on July 26 in 1914 and was a key step in providing arms to the Irish Volunteers and played a role in the run-up to the Easter Rising of 1916. Éamon was sworn by Thomas MacDonagh into the oath-bound Irish Republican Brotherhood, which secretly controlled the central executive of the Volunteers. He opposed secret societies but this was the only way he could be guaranteed full information on plans for the Rising.

Easter Rising On Easter Monday, April 24 in 1916 the Easter Rising began. De Valera’s forces occupied Boland’s Mill, Grand Canal Street in Dublin, his chief task being to cover the southeastern approaches to the city. After a week of fighting the order came from Patrick Pearse to surrender. De Valera was courtmartialed, convicted, and sentenced to death, but the sentence was immediately commuted to penal servitude for life. It has been argued that he was saved by four facts. Éamon was one of the last to surrender and he was held in a different prison from other leaders, thus his execution was delayed by practicalities. The US Consulate in Dublin made representations before his trial while the full legal situation (i.e., was he actually a United States citizen and if so, how would the United States react to the execution of one of its citizens?) was clarified. The fact that the UK was trying to bring the USA into the war in Europe at the time made the situation even more delicate, though this did not prevent the execution of Tom Clarke who had been a US citizen since 1905. When Lt. General Sir John Maxwell reviewed his case he said, “Who is he?

I haven’t heard of him before. I wonder would he be likely to make trouble in the future?” On being told that de Valera was unimportant he commuted the court-martial’s death sentence to life imprisonment. De Valera had no Fenian family or personal background and his MI5 file in 1916 was very slim, only detailing his open membership of the Irish Volunteers. By the time de Valera was courtmartialed on May 8th, political pressure was being brought to bear on Maxwell to halt the executions. Maxwell had already told the Prime Minister Herbert Asquith that only two more were to be executed, Seán Mac Diarmada and James Connolly, although they were courtmartialed the day after de Valera. His late trial, representations made by the American Consulate, his lack of Fenian background and political pressure all combined to save Éamon’s life. Had he been tried a week earlier he would probably have been shot. De Valera’s supporters and detractors argue about de Valera’s bravery during the Easter Rising. His supporters claim he showed leadership skills and a meticulous ability for planning. His detractors claim he suffered a nervous breakdown during the Rising.

According to accounts from 1916 de Valera was seen running about, giving conflicting orders, refusing to sleep and on one occasion, having forgotten the password, almost getting himself shot in the dark by his own men. According to one account, de Valera, on being forced to sleep by one subordinate who promised to sit beside him and wake him if he was needed, suddenly woke up, his eyes “wild”, screaming, “Set fire to the railway! Set fire to the railway!” Later in the Ballykinlar internment Camp, one de Valera loyalist approached another internee, a medical doctor, recounted the story, and asked for a medical opinion as to de Valera’s condition. He also threatened to sue the doctor, future Fine Gael Teachta Dála (TD) [pronounced tlaxtə dɑwːlə] and minister, Dr. Tom O’Higgins, if he ever repeated the story. De Valera’s latest biographer, Anthony J. Jordan, writes of this controversy, “Whatever happened in Boland’s Mills, or any other garrison, does not negate or undermine in any way the extraordinary heroism of Dev and his comrades”.

After imprisonment in Dartmoor, Maidstone and Lewes prisons, de Valera and his comrades were released under an amnesty in June 1917. On 10 July 1917 he was elected member of the House of Commons for East Clare (the constituency which he represented until 1959) in a by-election caused by the death of the previous incumbent Willie Redmond, brother of the Irish Party Leader John Redmond who had died fighting in World War I. In the 1918 general election he was elected both for that seat and Mayo East. In 1917 he was elected president of Sinn Féin, the party which had been blamed incorrectly for provoking the Easter Rising. This party became the political vehicle through which the survivors of the Easter Rising channelled their republican ethos and objectives. The previous president of Sinn Féin, Arthur Griffith, had championed an Anglo-Irish dual-monarchy based on the Austro-Hungarian model, with independent legislatures for both Ireland and Britain.

This solution would, emulate the situation following the Constitution of 1782 under Henry Grattan, until Ireland was legislatively subsumed into the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland in 1801. Príomh Aire — President of Dáil Éireann Sinn Féin won a huge majority in the 1918 general election, largely thanks to the British executions of the 1916 leaders, the threat of conscription with the Conscription Crisis of 1918 and the first past the post ballot. They won 73 out of 105 Irish seats, with about 47% of votes cast. On January 21 in 1919, 27 Sinn Féin MPs (the rest were imprisoned or impaired), calling themselves Teachtaí Dála (TDs), assembled in the Mansion House in Dublin and formed an Irish parliament, known as Dáil Éireann (translatable into English as the Assembly of Ireland).

A ministry or Aireacht [Ar əxt] was formed, under the leadership of the Príomh Aire [plri:v arlə] Cathal Brugha [kahəl bYrYu:] (President of Dáil Éireann Charles William St. John Burgess). De Valera had been re-arrested in May 1918 and imprisoned and so could not attend the January session of the Dáil. He escaped from Lincoln Gaol, England in February 1919. As a result he replaced Brugha as Príomh Aire in the April session of Dáil Éireann.

Question: Eamon de Valera was a politician in which country?
Answer: Republic of Ireland