Stunning photography exhibition mixes War of Independence veterans with Syrian refugees

Seamus Murphy is no stranger to the unexpected, having worked in war zones from Gaza to Syria and covered assignments such as the drug wars in Mexico and the Ebola outbreak in Uganda. The Irish photographer, however, wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he knocked on the door of John Ryan’s home in Co Tipperary. It was 1998, and Murphy was there to photograph Ryan, then 105-years-old, as part of a project documenting IRA veterans from the War of Independence.

“When I knocked on the door, I didn’t know what to expect, was he going to be in bed, or in a wheelchair, was he even going to be able to answer the door? This guy answered the door and looked at me. I said I’m here to see John Ryan and he said, ‘yes, that’s me’. He was very spry. He was holding a music box, there was a dog running around at his feet, and he turned around, walked back into the kitchen, and sat down by the fire. His wife was there, swatting flies, and he started playing the music box.”

John Ryan, Holyford, Co Tipperary, with his wife Mary. Seamus Murphy said: “Ryan joined [the Tipperary Brigade] along with Sean Treacy, who, with Dan Breen, led a party of volunteers in an ambush at Soloheadbeg in Co Tipperary, which kicked off the War of Independence.” Ryan on Sean Treacy: “Sean was the quietest lad you could imagine, well-refined, good looking and bookish. You’d never have thought he’d have gone anywhere near a gun, but that all changed later.”The resulting photos of Ryan feature in the exhibition Citizens,  at the Source Arts Centre in Thurles and available to view online. Marking the 100th anniversary of the war that began with the Soloheadbeg ambush in Tipperary, the exhibition showcases Murphy’s work as he travelled throughout Ireland taking photographs of the veterans of the Irish War of Independence at the end of their lives. Also featuring are additional portraits of Syrian refugees who have settled in Thurles since 2015. Their situation as new citizens of Ireland is juxtaposed with that of the IRA veterans who helped birth the modern Irish state. Working with the Syrian refugees was the perfect fit for Murphy, who knows the country well.

“Brendan Maher [artistic director of the Source Arts Centre] and I were talking about doing something about the War of Independence that would also bring it up to the modern day in some way, and Brendan mentioned there was a Syrian community living in Thurles. I thought that was fantastic, because I had photographed in Syria and had been there many times. These people arriving here, finding sanctuary in a country which is only 100 years old, I found that very moving,” says the London-based Murphy.

“The IRA volunteers I was fortunate to catch at the end of their lives, and the Syrians represented a new beginning. There was a symmetry to it and a reminder of the cyclical and ongoing nature of history, and how things can become connected in unexpected ways.”

Prayers at The Mosque, Thurles, September 2020. Seamus Murphy:  “This was taken at a little mosque on Parnell Street in Thurles. The child has been brought along to prayers and is, like every child, getting bored, and jumping on his dad’s back. I love this picture but I was concerned they might think we were making fun of them. I got in contact with the Imam, a lovely Egyptian man, and he was delighted with it. I think they saw the humour and humanity in it.” Murphy was able to fit in a shoot with his Syrian subjects in between Covid restrictions and lockdown, and although it meant spending less time with his subjects than usual, he still had a glimpse of their lives in Ireland.

“I was there two days photographing the Syrians. It was interesting the difference in the generations — the ones who were either born in Ireland or had come here as children and were in school, they were adapting really well. They were socialising with local people, speaking English, learning Irish, playing Gaelic games.

“The parents and grandparents, some of them spoke little English, and it must have been very difficult for them. I spent one afternoon with one family and we were watching footage on television — they kept going over it, it was drone footage of the destruction of Homs, and they were saying ‘that’s where we live’. It was just rubble. They have nothing to go back to. They are happy and grateful to be in Ireland but for that generation, it must be very difficult.”

Dan Bally Keating, Kerry No. 1 Brigade. Flying Columns/ Active Service Unit. Photgrapher Seamus Murphy said: “He was something else. I asked him what it was like on ambushes and he said: ‘It never bothered me. I mean you went out to do a job. I think you were hoping to kill someone. On one occasion there were 12 Tans that went to collect their monthly pay in Tralee on bicycles fully armed. We ambushed them, eight killed, three wounded and one escaped. All the equipment, rifles and ammunition was captured, that’s what we needed more than anything else.’.”When it came to photographing the IRA veterans, one of the biggest challenges was tracking them down in the first place, as many did not talk about their past, says Murphy.

“This was in 1998, the Good Friday Agreement had just happened, Michael Collins the film had come out previously. It was a time when it was becoming okay to talk about this stuff. But before that, there was a fear of talking about it — people were almost gaslighted, to use a modern expression. And of course, there was the stoicism, that generation didn’t talk about it, and the ones that did probably didn’t really do much.”

Murphy says there was also a sense that they wanted their roles in the War of Independence to be recognised in some way.

Kitty Bennett, 98, Co Tipperary. A member of Cumann na mBan, she acted as a courier, scout and intelligence officer. Seamus Ryan: “Kitty was in a retirement home, she was pretty alert. When you look at what she got up to, there was a lot of unsung work done by women, things like carrying messages, hiding guns, fundraising, and other things that could lead to imprisonment and torture. It was hard enough finding one man, so it was great to find a woman as well. There are so many untold stories from women especially.” “There was very much a feeling that they were finally being recognised. There was a sense that before they went, they should really be remembered. They were amazing human beings, they would put us all to shame with their energy and their faith in what they did.”

The experience also ultimately highlighted the inevitably imperfect nature of the freedom and democracy these men and women had fought so hard to win.

“The other interesting thing of course is that they basically laid the foundations for the modern Irish State and I don’t think they were that happy with how things turned out — a lot of them were complaining about the politicians in the Dáil.”