In Ireland, where the struggle for independence has transformed generations of former gunmen into established statesmen, political violence offers a less contentious term than terrorism for analysing how non-state actors used force to bring about political change. Conveying how violence was conceived ‘as a form of politics, a bargaining tool in the negotiation process between state and opposition’, it offers a useful (if more diffuse) category to analyse the political impact of violence. Given that ‘terrorists don’t just do terrorism’, there is a strong case for analysing terroristic forms of violence alongside other strands of political and armed struggle which it supplemented or displaced. This chapter will argue that the significance of political violence in Ireland stemmed primarily from its impact on non-violent nationalism and the state, and that the forms of violence adopted by republicans shaped that dynamic relationship in important ways.

The narrative around contemporary terrorism and political violence has emphasise its transnational character. There has been a tendency to see this dimension of terrorism as something novel, rendering contemporary terrorist threats as more dangerous than those experienced in the past. The idea of globally networked violent actors is frightening, and understandably excites public anxiety. Yet the overwhelming majority of terrorism has tended to be not only domestic, but local, conducted by individuals in the country where they normally reside, usually striking at targets close to their home. Transnational connections do exist, of course, but rather than being the defining feature of some ‘new’ terrorism, they have been a feature of violent political movements since long before 11 September 2001. Indeed, they arguably date back to the emergence of terrorism itself as some phenomenon discernable from other forms of violent contestation. This chapter has two aims. It will assess the importance of transnational links to radical and violent non-state actors for Irish Republicanism. Further, through an analysis of the Irish case study, it aims to contribute to our understanding of such transnational links more generally.

Great Famine came to see at first-hand the miseries of the people, and to offer analysis of ways forward, not all of which was either unhelpful or discourteous. The chapter also offers a brief study of the late-nineteenth-century writers who appeared unable to free themselves from feelings of insecurity and strife, and of how political uncertainty impinged so completely upon their texts. Drawing tourism developments and literary texts together, this chapter demonstrates the importance of the travel narrative form, its contribution to our political understanding of a particular period and its relevance to literary history more generally.

The failure of the 1848 revolt scattered Young Ireland leaders across the globe. Whether transported or in exile, they carried on their campaign in the only way they could – through their writings. Taking their lead from the Nation, many founded newspapers and wrote history, memoir and ballad. Foremost among them were Michael Doheny, Thomas D’Arcy McGee and John Mitchel. Mitchel’s Jail Journal and The Last Conquest of Ireland (Perhaps) were strongly influenced by being composed in prison and in exile. The former became a seminal text for generations of Irish nationalists, who saw it as an eloquent and fervent denunciation of the cruelty and hypocrisy of the British Empire. Exile also provided the perspective to write on the Great Famine of 1845–1848, a catastrophe so great that it rendered most nationalist writers mute with shame and bewilderment. Mitchel. though, chose to deal with it not as an isolated and unprecedented disaster, but, in historical context, as the latest and most ruthless of England’s attempts to crush Irish resistance once and for all. His interpretation of the Famine as a deliberate act of genocide became the accepted view of many nationalists, in Ireland and abroad. The same period was covered in less vitriolic style by Mitchel’s erstwhile colleague Charles Gavan Duffy who put his main emphasis on the political failings and flaws of Daniel O’Connell and the idealistic self-sacrificing patriotism of the Young Irelanders. The apparent moderation of Duffy’s writings and the caution and compromises of his later political career led many younger nationalists to identify with the more rebellious Mitchel. Chief among these was John O’Leary, whose noble character and unflinching idealism made him one of the most influential of the Fenians. It was O’Leary who introduced the young W. B. Yeats to the writings of Young Ireland, and though the mature Yeats later dismissed much of their work as shallow and chauvinistic, he continued to acknowledge its enduring capacity to move and inspire.