Free I Signed My Death Warrant by Ryle T. Dwyer Page A

accept a compromise if he was not involved in the negotiations. Back in April and May, for instance, Lloyd George had ruled out talks with Sinn Féin, because he did not wish to talk with Collins, whom he considered the real Irish leader. The delegation could always delay in order to consult him or demand further concessions to placate him. The Irish delegation would thereby be able to get better terms from the British without him.
    De Valera was not impressed. ‘His argument,’ according to Collins, ‘was that aside from whatever truth might be in my view the menace I constituted was of advantage to us.’ That was how de Valera explained the situation, but his insistence on the inclusion of Collins was motivated not so much by the belief that he would be an asset to the delegation as the realisation that it would be too risky not to include the real architect of the Black and Tan war.
    Collins, after all, had been questioning the president’s judgment on military and political matters in the lead up to the Truce and had bitterly resented his exclusion from the delegation that went to London in July. Moreover, he had deliberately stampeded the president in the matter of demanding MacEoin’s release, and de Valera – with his acute sensitivity to criticism – was no doubt suspicious of the implied criticism in the Big Fellow’s lavish praise of James O’Mara in the Dáil on 26 August.
    Very few in the Dáil would have thought there was any sinister significance in those remarks, but de Valera and Collins were aware. From the president’s standpoint the best way of committing Collins to any settlement terms was to ensure that he was part of the negotiating team.
    When the supreme council of the IRB discussed the issue on 1 September, some members were deeply suspicious of de Valera’s motives and they told Collins. ‘There were certain members of the Supreme Council who thought there was something sinister behind the suggestion, and we had the temerity to tell him that he was likely to be made a scapegoat in the matter,’ Seán Ó Muirthile, the secretary of the IRB’s Supreme Council noted.
    â€˜From what I have learned since I came back from America you will not succeed in overthrowing the British militarily,’ Harry Boland argued. ‘If it is a question between Peace and War, I’m for Peace. If there are negotiations I think “Mick” should go, and I’ll tell you why. In my opinion a “Gunman” will screw better terms out of them than an ordinary politician.’
    â€˜When we argued the matter further with Collins,’ Ó Muirthile noted that they were unable to convince him.
    â€˜Let them make a scapegoat or anything they wish of me,’ Collins said. ‘We have accepted the situation as it is, and someone must go.’
    â€˜It was a job that had to be done by somebody,’ he ex­plained later. In the past he had not shirked responsibility and now was no different, even though he was warned by several people not to trust de Valera. On the other hand, however, the president had courageously confronted the Dáil hard-liners by emphasising his unwillingness to exclude the possibility of any kind of settlement.
    On 7 September Lloyd George wrote to de Valera ‘for a definite reply as to whether you are prepared to enter a conference to ascertain how the association of Ireland with the community of nations known as the British Empire can best be reconciled with Irish national aspirations.’ The British proposed that the conference should begin in Inverness, Scotland, on 20 September 1921.
    The Dáil cabinet selected the delegation for the negotiations on 9 September. Although de Valera had told his colleagues a couple of weeks earlier that he was not going to be part of the delegation, Griffith insisted that the president should go and the cabinet debated the issue at length. De Valera gave