Most so-called Irish history commentators aren’t engaged in revisionism—they’re engaged in outright fabrication. Revisionism once meant stripping away propaganda to arrive at a clearer, more honest account of the past. It was an intellectual discipline, not a smear. But today, the word has been emptied of meaning, weaponised as an insult rather than upheld as a scholarly pursuit.
What passes for “revisionism” now—especially among Irish journalists—isn’t revision at all. It’s historical vandalism. The distortion is not subtle, nor is it confined to the gutter press. It infects every so-called “history” article in Ireland’s mainstream media, including the self-anointed “quality” newspapers. The only thing being revised is the truth—out of existence.
One of the greatest fabrications is a West British sneer about Irish neutrality during WWII. It has gained immense traction of late so what really did happen?
Neutral in Name Only”: Ireland, Spain, and the Politics of WWII Non-Belligerence
During the Second World War, both Ireland and Spain claimed neutrality. On paper, each nation kept out of the global conflict. In practice, however, neutrality is rarely absolute, and both countries walked diplomatic tightropes that reveal far more than the bland label of “non-belligerence” suggests. While Spain’s support for Nazi Germany has been well documented—from allowing German agents to operate with impunity, to dispatching the Blue Division to fight alongside Hitler’s armies on the Eastern Front—Ireland’s actions tell a more nuanced but equally revealing story. Though it declared neutrality, Ireland was not neutral in any meaningful strategic sense. Its policies, especially after 1942, increasingly favoured the Allies. If Spain’s neutrality was a smokescreen for ideological alignment with the Axis, Ireland’s was an assertion of sovereignty carefully calibrated to assist the Allies without triggering domestic chaos or British invasion.
A Tale of Two Neutralities
The Spanish Civil War (1936–1939) had left General Francisco Franco indebted to Hitler and Mussolini. Spain, devastated and diplomatically isolated, avoided formal entry into World War II, but Franco’s regime aligned itself ideologically and tactically with the Axis powers. The infamous División Azul—volunteer troops sent to fight alongside the Wehrmacht in Russia—is the most visible example. Spain also supplied tungsten (vital for German armaments), allowed German U-boats to refuel in Spanish ports, and turned a blind eye to Gestapo operations on its soil. Neutrality, for Franco, was merely a convenience that avoided further ruin for a battered Spain, while ensuring a future place in Hitler’s new order—should he win.
Ireland’s neutrality, in contrast, was borne not of ideological affinity with the Axis, but of bitter memory. Just two decades after the Irish War of Independence and Civil War, the Irish Free State—rebranded in 1937 as simply “Ireland”—had no appetite for another British-dominated war. Irish neutrality was also a de facto assertion of independence. It was, at first, a defensive crouch. But it soon became a cloak for quiet, calculated cooperation with the Allies.
Beneath the Surface: Irish Actions That Favoured the Allies
Despite loud public protestations of neutrality, Ireland provided the Allies with critical strategic support:
- Military Intelligence Cooperation: Irish Intelligence (G2) shared German espionage and communications intercepts with the British. Nazi agents who parachuted into Ireland were swiftly captured, interrogated, and in most cases, turned over to British or American intelligence.
- Weather Reports: The single most consequential act of Irish wartime cooperation was the sharing of weather data from the west coast—particularly from Blacksod Point in Mayo. These reports were vital in determining the timing of the D-Day landings. The successful Allied invasion of Normandy hinged on this “neutral” data.
- Airspace and Maritime Access: Although officially not permitted, British aircraft patrolled the Atlantic through what became known as the “Donegal Corridor”—a sliver of Irish airspace that Ireland quietly allowed the RAF to use to protect Atlantic convoys from German U-boats. Likewise, British forces used Irish lighthouses and ports as navigational aids, and downed Allied airmen were typically repatriated across the border.
- De Valera’s Tightrope Walk: Taoiseach Éamon de Valera maintained neutrality largely to prevent civil unrest, especially among Irish Republicans sympathetic to Germany (or at least hostile to Britain). But his government interned IRA members who sought German aid, blocked Axis propaganda, and suppressed pro-Nazi sentiment. Neutrality allowed Ireland to avoid re-occupation by Britain and preserve its nascent sovereignty, but it was always conditional—never morally or politically equivalent to Franco’s cynicism.
A Final Gesture and Its Fallout
Of course, no discussion of Irish wartime neutrality can omit the infamous condolence visit de Valera made to the German Legation in May 1945, following Hitler’s suicide. Though diplomatically consistent (Ireland had acknowledged every Axis diplomatic death with the same formal gesture), this act was a masterclass in tone-deafness. It provided ammunition to those who wished to equate Irish neutrality with Nazi sympathy. Yet it was a symbolic formality, not a reflection of policy.
In contrast, Spain did not merely shake hands with the devil—it helped reload his guns.
Moral Clarity and Strategic Ambiguity
Neutrality in war is often a lie told for reasons of survival. But the motives behind that lie matter. Spain used neutrality to mask ideological camaraderie with fascism. Ireland used it to safeguard sovereignty, maintain domestic peace, and—when it mattered—aid the defeat of Nazism in covert but crucial ways.
Thus, while Spain was neutral and pro-Axis, Ireland was neutral and anti-Axis. The former flirted with Hitler’s victory; the latter quietly helped ensure his defeat. One nation’s neutrality was a fig leaf. The others was a mask—behind which a small, poor, and insecure country did what it could to remain free and free of fascism.
Supply Squeeze and British Economic Pressure
So, what did Ireland get for its support of Britain and the Allies?
Britain imposed a tight maritime blockade during the war and included Ireland in many of its restrictions. This was partly to protect British interests, but also to pressure Ireland into abandoning neutrality.
- Shipping Crisis: Ireland had virtually no merchant fleet at the start of the war. British shipping companies refused to carry goods to Ireland, forcing de Valera’s government to scramble to build or requisition ships—a move that birthed the Irish Mercantile Marine (the “coffin ships”), which lost 20% of its vessels during the war.
- Essential Goods Withheld: Britain restricted access to oil, coal, wheat, and fertilizers, all critical to the Irish economy. This wasn’t just collateral damage—it was deliberate. Ireland was being economically throttled for refusing to join the war effort outright.
- Sterling Controls: Britain also used financial leverage, delaying the repatriation of Irish sterling balances held in London, adding more strain to Irish purchasing power abroad.
Covert Aid, No Overt Thanks
While Ireland was internally helping the Allies—from allowing British overflights to sharing critical weather data—Britain never acknowledged this publicly or reciprocated in any significant way.
- Churchill’s Resentment: In his 1945 VE Day speech, Winston Churchill infamously praised the Allies and made a veiled swipe at Ireland, condemning the “De Valera government” for its neutral stance. Not a word of thanks for the covert cooperation that had helped the Allies win.
- No Post-War Gratitude: After the war, the UK resumed business as usual, offering no trade advantages, no special agreements, and no recognition of Irish suffering during the conflict.
Ireland gave quiet, strategic help to Britain during WWII—out of self-preservation, not alliance—but received:
- No easing of wartime restrictions,
- No increase in vital supplies,
- No financial concessions,
- And certainly no political gratitude.
It was a one-sided relationship masked by diplomacy. Ireland played its cards carefully—but Britain held the deck and never passed back a single ace.
Winston Churchill: The Empire’s Blunt Instrument
Winston Churchill is often lionised as the indomitable wartime leader who “saved civilisation.” But remove the wartime fog and a different figure emerges: a serial failure, a self-important reactionary, and a man whose contempt for Ireland was surpassed only by his own misjudgements.
Churchill the Irish Problem
Churchill’s relationship with Ireland was one of imperial arrogance masquerading as strategy. As British Secretary of State for War in 1919–1921, Churchill played a central role in unleashing the Black and Tans—a force cobbled together from WWI veterans and ex-convicts, sent into Ireland to terrorise a civilian population during the War of Independence.
Let’s not be coy: this was state-sponsored terrorism, armed and approved by Churchill himself. The policy was simple—when you can’t find the rebels, burn down villages, shoot bystanders, and teach the population a lesson in “order.” Even other British officials balked at the savagery. Churchill did not.
His defenders call this “complexity.” The Irish call it butchery.
The Gallipoli Disaster: Churchill’s Military Genius
Years before Ireland bore the brunt of his imperial tantrums, Churchill had already displayed his military brilliance by masterminding the Gallipoli campaign in 1915—a catastrophic failure in which nearly half a million Allied troops were killed or wounded. His grand plan to knock the Ottoman Empire out of the war turned into a logistical and strategic nightmare.
The result? Churchill was sacked, dumped unceremoniously from the Admiralty, and forced to mope in political exile.
His solution? He put on a uniform and went to fight in the trenches—where he stayed just long enough to stage a public rehabilitation.
The Bengal Famine: Churchill’s Other Legacy
If Ireland was treated with contempt, colonial India was treated with indifference. During the 1943 Bengal famine, Churchill refused to redirect food aid—even as millions starved—because, as he put it, Indians were “breeding like rabbits.” British-held food stocks were exported elsewhere. Relief was denied. When officials pleaded with him to intervene, Churchill’s concern was that the famine might disrupt the war effort—not because of human loss, but because it might upset the imperial applecart.
Three million Indians died. Churchill blamed the victims.
VE Day and the Irish Snub
Even in victory, Churchill couldn’t resist punching down. In his VE Day speech in 1945, Churchill spitefully rebuked the Irish for remaining neutral during the war, ignoring the covert assistance Dublin had provided to the Allies—including critical weather data that helped ensure the success of D-Day.
But Churchill’s hatred of Irish independence was personal and ideological. He lamented the Treaty that created the Irish Free State and never forgave the Irish people for shaking off British rule. He called de Valera a “snivelling little priest,” and refused to acknowledge the simple truth: that Ireland had a right to govern itself, free from London’s leash.
The Myth vs. The Man
Churchill’s posthumous reputation rests largely on one moment—his leadership during Britain’s darkest hour. But history is not a highlight reel. Churchill’s career was littered with errors, misjudgements, and casual cruelty—often inflicted on populations who had never voted for him and never wanted his empire.
His failures were whitewashed. His bigotry was downplayed. His record—especially in Ireland—remains a cautionary tale: what happens when power is given to a man convinced that God and Empire speak through him.
De Valera and Churchill: Two Wartime Leaders, Worlds Apart
In the mythology of World War II, Winston Churchill is cast as the lion of liberty—the defiant voice against tyranny. Éamon de Valera, by contrast, is often painted as the coward behind the curtain, clinging to neutrality while Europe burned. This comparison is not just unfair—it is historically illiterate. Scratch beneath the wartime propaganda and what emerges is a startling reversal of roles: Churchill was the reactionary imperialist clinging to a dying empire; de Valera was the pragmatic democrat defending a fragile, young republic.
Churchill: The Empire’s Bulldog
Winston Churchill was born into privilege, steeped in aristocracy, and reared on a diet of British exceptionalism. He believed, as he said in so many words, that some races were superior to others, and he viewed the world through the lens of imperial entitlement. His leadership in WWII, while rhetorically stirring, was also laced with brutality and indifference to human life—unless it was British.
- He oversaw the Black and Tans’ campaign of terror in Ireland.
- He orchestrated the Gallipoli disaster—a textbook example of military arrogance.
- He ignored the Bengal famine, allowing millions to die.
- And even as Nazi Germany fell, he used his VE Day speech to insult Ireland, claiming that British restraint in not invading was some kind of gift.
His moral compass was simple: the British Empire was good, and anyone who resisted it was an irritant to be dealt with—preferably with bullets.
De Valera: The Cautious Statesman
Éamon de Valera, by contrast, was no demagogue. He led a newly independent state still reeling from civil war and economic collapse. Ireland in the 1930s and 40s was vulnerable, poor, and militarily indefensible. Yet under de Valera, it remained democratic, peaceful, and crucially—sovereign.
When war broke out, de Valera refused to drag Ireland into a British war without guarantees of unity and independence. He asserted Irish neutrality, not out of moral cowardice, but as a protective shield for a small nation that had only just escaped colonial rule. And though he maintained that neutrality publicly, Ireland:
- Interned German agents while passing their intelligence to the Allies.
- Allowed British and American pilots who crashed in Ireland to be quietly repatriated.
- Supplied the Allies with vital Atlantic weather data, which helped time the D-Day landings.
- And turned a blind eye to RAF overflights in Irish airspace.
This was not neutrality in the Axis sense. It was a carefully managed, quiet form of cooperation that kept Ireland safe, free, and sovereign.
Two Views of Ireland
Churchill never forgave Ireland for its independence. He saw the Irish Free State as an upstart nuisance—a breakaway colony that had slipped the imperial leash. His hatred was palpable, and his resentment echoed through his speeches and policies.
De Valera, on the other hand, understood that Churchill’s war was not Ireland’s war. The Irish people had no appetite to fight under a British flag just 20 years after the Black and Tans had burned their towns. De Valera’s greatest political act was refusing to yield to pressure—and in doing so, he ensured that Ireland remained free, democratic, and unoccupied throughout the bloodiest conflict in human history.
Moral Clarity
Let us be clear: Churchill defended Britain, not democracy. He praised Mussolini, admired Hitler until it was inconvenient, and pined for a world where the Union Jack flew over half the planet. De Valera, for all his flaws, defended the idea that a small nation had a right to its own course—even in the shadow of war.
When Churchill died, he was mourned by empire. When de Valera died, he was mourned by a republic he helped build—and keep free.
Ireland and the Marshall Plan
Ireland joined the Marshall Plan in 1948, after some hesitation and negotiations. The U.S. provided approximately $146 million in aid to Ireland between 1948 and 1952 under the European Recovery Program (ERP)—a not-insignificant sum, though much smaller per capita than what war-torn nations like France or West Germany received.
So, while Ireland was not initially a high-priority recipient, and did not suffer wartime destruction like others, it did benefit from:
- Dollar grants to help stabilise its balance of payments
- Assistance in importing critical goods like coal and wheat
- Support for industrial and agricultural modernisation
- Some technical aid programs (e.g., farm mechanisation)
What Ireland Didn’t Get
What Ireland did not receive, however—despite its covert wartime aid to Britain—was:
- Any British gratitude, political or economic
- Easing of the wartime supply blockade
- Preferential trade access or restitution for its losses
- Recognition for its intelligence cooperation or help to Allied pilots
Churchill remained hostile, and post-war Anglo-Irish relations remained cool, partly due to the unresolved issue of Northern Ireland and Ireland’s late declaration as a Republic in 1949.
EJ
