James
Connolly
was
born
in Edinburgh in 1868. He joined the
British
Army and served
in Ireland. However, he deserted in 1889
and returned to Scotland where he did a
variety of different jobs.
Connolly became a socialist
and in 1896 moved to Dublin as an organizer
of the Dublin Socialist Society. Later he founded the Irish Socialist
Republican Party and established The Workers'
Republic in 1898. Books by Connolly during this period
included Erin's Hope (1897) and
The New Evangel (1901).
In 1902 Connolly returned
to Edinburgh and helped launch the journal,
Socialist, in Edinburgh.
Connolly was influenced by the writings of the American radical Daniel
DeLeon and
published several articles by him in his journal.
Connolly emigrated to the
United States in 1903. He established the Irish
Socialist Federation and the newspaper, The
Harp. In 1905 Connolly joined the
Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) and
worked hard at building up the movement in Newark, New Jersey. He
also published several books including Socialism
Made Easy (1909), Labour in Irish
History (1910) and Labour, Nationality
and Religion (1910).
In
1910 Connolly returned to Dublin
where
he joined the Socialist Party of Ireland. The following year William
O'Brien arranged
for Connolly to become organizer of the Irish Transport and General
Workers Union in Belfast. In
1912 Connolly and James
Larkin established
the Irish Labour Party.
By 1913 the Irish Transport
and General Workers' Union had 10,000 members and had secured wage
increases for most of its members. Attempts to prevent workers from
joining the ITGWU in 1913 led to a lock-out. Connolly returned to
Dublin to help the union in its struggle with the employers. This
included the formation of the Irish Citizen Army. Despite Larkin raising
funds in England and the United
States, the union eventually ran out of money and the men were
forced to return to work on their employer's terms.
Connolly
took control of the Irish
Transport and General Workers' Union when
James
Larkin left for
a lecture tour of the United States in October 1914. He also revived
his socialist journal, The Workers' Republic,
but it was suppressed in February 1915. Later that year he published
The Re-Conquest of Ireland (1915).
During the Easter
Rising,
Connolly's Irish Citizen Army fought alongside the Irish Volunteers
under Patrick
Pease. Connolly
served in the General Post Office during the fighting and was severely
wounded. James
Connolly was
executed on the 12th
of May 1916
(1)
James Connolly, Workers' Republic (June 1899)
I know it because I read it in the papers. I also know it to be the
case because in every country I have graced with my presence up to
the present time, or have heard from, the possessing classes through
their organs in the press, and their spokesmen upon the platform have
been vociferous and insistent in declaring the foreign origin of Socialism.
In Ireland Socialism is
an English importation, in England they are convinced it was made
in Germany, in Germany it is a scheme of traitors in alliance with
the French to disrupt the Empire, in France it is an accursed conspiracy
to discredit the army. In Russia it is an English plot to prevent
Russian extension towards Asia, in Asia it is known to have been set
on foot by American enemies of Chinese and Japanese industrial progress,
and in America it is one of the baneful fruits of unrestricted pauper
and criminal immigration.
All nations today repudiate
Socialism, yet Socialist ideas are conquering all nations. When anything
has to be done in a practical direction towards ameliorating the lot
of the helpless ones, or towards using the collective force of society
in strengthening the hands of the individual it is sure to be in the
intellectual armory of Socialists the right weapon is found
for the work.
(2)
James Connolly, letter in Weekly People (9th April 1904)
It is scarcely possible to take up a copy of the Weekly People of
late without realizing from its contents that it and the party are
becoming distinctly anti-religious. If a clergyman anywhere attacks
socialism the tendency is to hit back, not at his economic absurdities,
but at his theology, with which we have nothing to do.
(3)
James Connolly, Labour in Irish History (June 1910)
The Irishman frees himself from slavery when he realizes the truth
that the capitalist system is the most foreign thing in Ireland. The
Irish question is a social question. The whole age-long fight of the
Irish people against their oppressors resolves itself in the last
analysis into a fight for the mastery of the means of life, the sources
of production, in Ireland. Who would own and control the land? The
people, or the invaders; and if the invaders, which set of them -
the most recent swarm of land thieves, or the sons of the thieves
of a former generation?
(4)
James Connolly, speech in Glasgow (15th October 1910)
The Socialist question was not a religious question. It was a question
to be settled in the mines and factories, not at the altar. The Socialist
movement had nothing whatever to do with the next world. It was no
concern of their organization whether there was a heaven or a hell,
but, if there was a heaven hereafter, it was poor preparation to live
in hell here.
(5)
James Connolly, speech quoted in Freeman's Journal concerning the
formation of the Irish
Citizen Army (14th November 1913)
Listen to me, I am going to talk sedition, the next time we are out
for a march, I want to be accompanied by four battalions of trained
men. I want them to come with their corporals, sergeants and people
to form fours. Why should we
not drill and train our men in Dublin as they are doing in Ulster?
But I don't think you require any training.
(6)
Nora Connolly went to visit her father in Dublin Castle on 9th May
1916. She published her account of the meeting in the book Portrait
of a Rebel Father (1935).
On Tuesday I went with
mother. There were soldiers on guard at the top of the stairs and
in the small alcove leading to Papa's room. They were fully armed
and as they stood guard they had their bayonets fixed. In the room
there was an R.A.M.C. officer with him all the time. His wounded leg
was resting in a cage. He was weak and pale and his voice was very
low. Mother asked was he suffering much pain. "No, but I've been
court-martialled today. They propped me up in bed. The strain was
very great." She knew then that if they had court-martialled
him while unable to sit up in bed, they would not hesitate to shoot
him while he was
wounded. Asked how he had got the wound he said: "It was while
I had gone out to place some men at a certain point. On my way back
I was shot above the ankle by a sniper. Both bones in my leg are shattered.
I was too far away for the men I had just placed to see me and was
too far from the Post Office to be seen. So I had to crawl till I
was seen. The loss
of blood was great. They couldn't get it staunched." He was very
cheerful, talking about plans for the future, giving no sign that
sentence had been pronounced an hour before we were admitted.
He was very proud of his
men. "It was a good clean fight. The cause cannot die now. The
fight will put an end to recruiting. Irishmen will now realize the
absurdity of fighting for the freedom of another country while their
own is enslaved." He praised the women and girls who fought.
I told him about Rory (Connolly's son; the boy had been arrested with
other rebels but had given a false name and was released along with
all other boys under sixteen). "He fought for his country and
has been imprisoned for his country and he's not sixteen. He's had
a great start in
life, hasn't he, Nora?" Then he turned to mother and said: "'There
was one young boy, Lillie, who was carrying the top of my stretcher
as we were leaving the burning Post Office. The street was being swept
continually with bullets from machine- guns. That young lad was at
the head of the stretcher and if a bullet
came near me he would move his body in such a way that he might receive
it instead of me. He was so young-looking, although big, that I asked
his age. "I'm just fourteen, sir," he answered. "We
can't fail now."
I saw father next on Thursday,
May 11, at midnight. A motor ambulance came to the door. The officer
said father was very weak and wished to see his wife and eldest daughter.
Mama believed the story because she had seen him on Wednesday and
he was in great pain and very weak, and he couldn't sleep without
morphine. Nevertheless she asked the officer if they were going to
shoot him. The officer said he could tell her nothing. Through dark,
deserted sentry-ridden streets we rode. I was surprised to see about
a dozen soldiers encamped outside Papa's door. There was an officer
on guard inside the room. Papa turned his head at our coming.
"Well, Lillie, I
suppose you know what this means?"
"Oh, James, it's
not that - it's not that."
"Yes, Lillie. I fell
asleep for the first time tonight and they wakened me at eleven and
told me that I was to die at dawn."
Mamma broke down and laid her head on the bed and sobbed heartbreakingly.
Father patted her head and said: "Don't cry, Lillie, you'll unman
me."
"But your beautiful
life, James. Your beautiful life!" she sobbed.
"Well, Lillie, hasn't
it been a full life and isn't this a good end" I was also crying.
"Don't cry, Nora, there's nothing to cry about."
"I won't cry. Papa,"
I said.
"He patted my hand
and said: "That's my brave girl."
"He tried to cheer
Mama by telling her of the man who had come into the Post Office during
the Rising to try and buy a
penny stamp. "I don't know what Dublin's coming to when you can't
buy a stamp at the Post Office."
The officer said: "Only
five minutes more." Mama was nearly overcome - she had to be
given water. Papa tried to clasp her in his arms but he could only
lift his head and shoulders from the bed. The officer said: "Time
is up." Papa turned and said good-bye to her and she could not
see him. I tried to bring Mama away but
I could not move her. The nurse came forward and helped her away.
I ran back and kissed Papa again. "Nora, I'm proud of you."
Then the door was shut and I saw him no more.
(7)
Father Aloysius, in conversation with Nora Connolly in May 1916.
It was a terrible shock
to me, I'd been with him that evening and I promised to come to him
this afternoon. I felt sure there would be no more executions. Your
father was much easier than he had been. I was sure that he would
get his first real night's rest. The ambulance that brought you home
came for me. I was astonished. I had felt so sure that I would not
be needed. For the first time since the Rising, I had locked the doors.
And some time after two I was knocked up. The ambulance brought me
to your father. Such a wonderful man - such a concentration of mind.
They carried him from his bed in an ambulance stretcher down to a
waiting ambulance and drove him to Kilmainham Jail. They carried him
from the ambulance to the jail yard and put him in a chair. He was
very brave and cool. I said to him, "Will you pray for the men
who are about to shoot you" and he said: "I will say a prayer
for all brave men who do their duty." His prayer was "Forgive
them for they know not what they do" and then they shot him.
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