The British state and the Irish rebellion of 1916: an intelligence failure or an failure of response

The teleological narrative that has dominated the handling of intelligence by the British state in the events that led up to the 1916 Irish Rebellion in Dublin has been characterised as a cocktail of incompetence and mendacity. Using new and existing archive material this article argues that both the cabinet in London and key members of the Irish Executive in Dublin were supplied with accurate and timely intelligence by the Admiralty's signals intelligence unit, the Royal Irish Constabulary and the Dublin Metropolitan Police with respect to this event. Far from being a failure of intelligence here is evidence to show that there occurred a failure of response on behalf of key decision-makers. The warnings that were given by intelligence organisations were filtered through the existing policy preferences and assumptions. As a result of these factors accurate evaluations and sound judgement were not exercised by key officials, such as Sir Matthew Nathan, in Dublin Castle.

Atrocities in theory and practice: An introduction

Classical counterinsurgency theory – written before the 19th century – has generally strongly opposed atrocities, as have theoreticians writing on how to conduct insurgencies. For a variety of reasons – ranging from pragmatic to religious or humanitarian – theoreticians of both groups have particularly argued for the lenient treatment of civilians associated with the enemy camp, although there is a marked pattern of exceptions, for example, where heretics or populations of cities refusing to surrender to besieging armies are concerned. And yet atrocities – defined here as acts of violence against the unarmed (non-combatants, or wounded or imprisoned enemy soldiers), or needlessly painful and/or humiliating treatment of enemy combatants, beyond any action needed to incapacitate or disarm them – occur frequently in small wars. Examples abound where these exhortations have been ignored, both by forces engaged in an insurgency and by forces trying to put down a rebellion. Why have so many atrocities been committed in war if so many arguments have been put forward against them? This is the basic puzzle for which the individual contributions to this special issue are seeking to find tentative answers, drawing on case studies.

The printed page

In the year 1702 two books were published, in Oxford and Paris, that can now be seen as defining the presses that produced them. In Paris, the Imprimerie Royale issued the Médailles sur les principaux évènements du règne de Louis le Grand, a large folio of text and plates intended to glorify the regime of Louis XIV. In Oxford, the first, large format volume of Clarendon’s The history of the rebellion appeared; painstakingly edited at Christ Church, it brought prestige and profit to the University. Both were considerable statements of publishing intent in graphic form: both were sumptuous, and both used types and decorations reserved to their respective presses. But the French book points the way to future developments in typography, particularly in the design of type, while the Oxford book is a summation of the past, and its types and page design would be abandoned by the Oxford press in little more than thirty years. Tracing the printed pages of Oxford books from the late sixteenth to the mid-eighteenth century shows changes that parallel wider developments in English and European typography, but from a distinctly Oxford perspective.

'Hey little rich boy, take a good look at me': punk, class and British oi!

This article looks at the controversial music genre Oi! in relation to youth cultural identity in late 1970s and early 1980s Britain. By examining the six compilation albums released to promote Oi! as a distinct strand of punk, it seeks to challenge prevailing dismissals of the genre as inherently racist or bound to the politics of the far right. Rather, Oi! – like punk more generally – was a contested cultural form. It was, moreover, centred primarily on questions of class and locality. To this end, Oi! sought to realize the working-class rebellion of punk’s early aesthetic; to give substance to its street-level pretentions and offer a genuine ‘song from the streets’.