Michael Collins has become a mythological figure. He rose to prominence, was among the leading cadre of politicians that established an independent Irish Republic in the twentieth century. To be sure, there are facts, but those facts are often obscured by the hagiographical biographies that have been written since his death. With a noble purpose in mind, Peter Hart seeks in this book to set the record straight. Hart’s introduction is brilliant: “First and always in considering the life of Michael Collins there is the Story of Michael Collins, a story nearly fantastic in its details. Collins, the genius behind the Irish Republican Army’s guerrilla campaign, the inspiration for Begin and Mao. The superspy who confounded British intelligence. The gun-runner who bought the first tommy guns right off the production line. The financial wizard who bankrolled the Irish revolution from a hundred secret accounts. The head of the clandestine Irish Republican Brotherhood, the Black Hand of republicanism stretching from New York to London. The godfather whose personal squad of hitmen always found his enemies before they found him. The statesman who could make the final deal with Winston Churchill and David Lloyd George – and make it stick. The founder and defender of the new Irish Free State, the Chairman, Commander-in-Chief and Minister of Everything, who – in seven months – assembled a new government, parliament, army and constitution. The man who strove for peace and then won the Civil War, saving Irish democracy from Irish fanaticism. The man of sweeping political vision, decades ahead of its time in its promise of economic, social and cultural progress. And the final act: the slain hero who died fighting in his home county of Cork – two months away from his thirty-second birthday. Collins the indispensable, the irreplaceable, the Lost Leader unknown before 1917 and mourned by a nation in despair in 1922. The Big Fellow. The Man Who Won The War. What’s Good Enough For Mick Is Good Enough For Me.”
Unfortunately, it is difficult for me to truly discern the truth behind many of Hart’s claims. They strike me, on the whole, as plausible. However, Hart’s tone is one of accusatory condescension. Collins, in Hart’s eyes, was not a great man, but rather a mediocre man who opportunistically leveraged unprecedented nationalistic upheaval to thrust himself almost quixotically into power. Collins is, in Hart’s opinion, a forceful personality, a tireless worker, a man of middling intelligence, and enforcer of others ideas when necessary. This is not the stuff of mythology. The writing is overly verbose at times, and on the whole the most damaging to Hart’s case is the lack of evidence presented with his accusations.
I did find much to learn as an outsider to Irish history, and on the whole I do recommend reading this book, albeit with a cynical eye. At the beginning of his political career Hart tries with scant data to portray Collins. At the beginning, he did not seem to be a radical. Hart notes that he subscribed to the conservative and anti-Parnellite Weekly Freeman’s Journal, and on the whole disliked radical politics but “possessed considerable moral courage and independence of mind” (10). As he grew in his career, the data certainly points to the fact that he was not a financial genius. His school record is average at best – failing exams and finishing in the lower third of his clerk examinations. He was typical in many ways, but Hart does note that his secularism set him apart from the Catholic nationalists in his company. Hart also notes his opportunistic view of socialism, while not declaring Collins a socialist.
While interned at Frongach, Collins slowly developed a more influencial circle. He frequently sided with the minority, yet end up in positions of increasing authority. In sports, he was not a fantastic athlete but was a spiritual presence for his teammates, and in his dealings with his peers could wax between charming and bullying. Ultimately, he ended up in the Dail, running very efficiently its most influential department. His career was launched. Hart notes that he maintained this position of authority with a simple secret of success: “he worked harder, longer, on more tasks than anyone else.” Hart notes he slept little, and felt compelled by circumstance to drive as hard as he was capable. These are certainly admirable traits.
On the Treaty, Hart presents a fairly persuasive argument that Collins was outmatched by Lloyd George’s negotiating tactics, and by comparison looked quite sophomoric. This actually is fairly understandable, given the wide disparity in experience and training between the two men. Collins, in Hart’s view, was ambivalent to the terms of the treaty, but in the end committed to it because he believed it to be the only deal capable of giving Irish independence, and in the full knowledge that the Irish could not defeat the British in a direct war. Once committed, he was unwavering in his support. Hart does not treat de Valera or his motivations favorable. After reading the book, I found myself firmly on the side of Collins against de Valera in their political separation. The Dev comes across as a smarter, but more opportunistic, and less altruistic man than Collins. Given Hart’s aspersions on Collins character throughout the book, that is saying something. In the end, the radical elements that both men helped to put into power became uncontrollable by them. The remainder of the twentieth century saw Ireland emerge as an ambitious, politically independent and vibrant country. One can only wonder if there was a less bloody path, and whether the decisions of these two men could have changed events had they ultimately chosen to work together.