“What are we fighting for — is it to just put up another flag?”

Tadgh Quill-Manley, a great grandson of Sean Mitchell, a former Irish Volunteer leader in Athlone, who later became OC of the Cork No 1 IRA Brigade, tells the story of a figure who slipped into the margins of history.

Herbert James ‘Sean’ Mitchell (1891–1971) was a complex and formidable figure in Ireland’s revolutionary history — a guerrilla leader, strategist, and unwavering Irish Republican. While his contemporary and friend Tom Barry became largely the public face of guerrilla resistance,

Mitchell remained a shadowy figure, deliberately eschewing fame. An example of the tight-lipped nature of his generation, his contributions to the Irish struggle were nonetheless profound and far-reaching.

Born in Rahan, Co. Offaly into Protestant ‘planter’ stock, Mitchell was baptised into the Church of Ireland. His background shows that his family was involved in farming, textile trading and canal management — but his ideological development would bring him far from that world. Influenced by Jesuits and the writings of Cardinal Newman, Mitchell converted to Catholicism in 1915 and took the name Ignatius. That same year, he married Maud Mulvihill, Cumann na mBan’s first captain in the Midlands, and sister of the well-documented Titanic survivor, Bertha Mulvihill. Maud assisted Liam Mellows, and acted in at least three plays organised to promote the 'cause.' He was employed at a branch of the family textile and drapery business in Athlone, and designed tweeds with a man named Gill.

Mitchell joined the Irish Volunteers near the time of its foundation, and, during the 1916 Easter Rising, served as a Captain in Midlands Brigade, though local hostility in this Crown garrison town meant his group was demobilised.

In 1917, he relocated to Cork, and was soon appointed Captain of ‘G’ Company, 2nd Batt, in the Cork No. 1 Brigade by Richard Mulcahy. From there, he ascended through the ranks, working alongside prominent Republicans like Tomás MacCurtain, Terence MacSwiney and Seán O’Hegarty. In the memoirs of Connie Francis Neenan, he is said to ahve turned down the role of commander of the No.1 Brigade's first Battalion in 1918.

A few years later, following the deaths of MacSwiney and MacCurtain, and the neutral stance taken by Sean O’Hegarty, Mitchell became overall O.C. of the Cork No. 1 Brigade, described by the National Museum of Ireland as “one of the most audacious IRA units in history.”

Despite being a relative outsider in Cork, his rapid rise reflected his strategic brilliance. Described as a fearless O.C. of the IRA's most daring brigade, Mitchell led numerous ambushes, bombings, and raids.

In the 1922 Battle of Ballyvourney/Makeera, his forces captured 90 Free State soldiers from Co. Carlow and three armoured vehicles, including the Sliabh na mBan — part of Michael Collins’s convoy before his assassination.

Mitchell also gained notoriety for commanding the “Moon Car,” a modified Rolls Royce, and his now forgotten role in organising the IRA’s only naval victory: the capture of HMS Upnor, near Cobh. Winston Churchill, then Secretary for the Colonies, was reportedly furious. Mitchell’s refusal to compromise was legendary. When Michael Collins personally offered him command of the Southern Division of the National Army, Mitchell retorted:

“You mean to split the Army?”

“To hell with the Army!” Collins replied.

“Well, to hell with you!” Mitchell shot back.

As the Civil War erupted, Mitchell was targeted by Free State forces. His home was raided repeatedly. As recounted in a book by Uinseann MacEoin, a man mistakenly wearing Mitchell’s coat was killed in Kerry Pike, and Mitchell was arrested and interned multiple times. In 1928, he was sentenced to 12 months penal labour for arms possession and refused to recognise the authority of the Free State court. According to court papers, Mitchell also maintained what was registered an accountancy practice in the heart of Cork City, located at Clarke's Bridge. However, as per the 'Hegartys of the Laurels,’ and a book by Uinseann MacEoin, an establishment at this same address served as an armaments cache for an extended period of time. It may have likely been a cover.

He was employed as a wool buyer at the Douglas Mills, Cork. Mitchell remained active as leading figure in hardline Republican circles throughout the 1930s. With Tom Barry and Seán MacBride, he co-founded the Anti-Partition Council. In an address in Clare, Mitchell stated: “There are three governments running this country, and they cost £11 per head of the population. The country cannot stand that, so that, even on economic grounds, the anti-partition movement is worthy of support.”

His younger brother, Walter, who would later serve as O/C of the Offaly unit, moved to Cork for a period and lived with Sean. Sean had asked Walter to take over as O.C of the First Cork Brigade, but the opportunity arose for Walter to return to Co. Offaly instead.

Meanwhile, Maud had also served as Intelligence Officer of the First Cork Brigade (a rarity for a women at that time) and, according to one article, is believed to have served as the chair of Cumann na mBun’s Cork District Council (she had at one stage served as the chair of a local branch in Bishopstown, Cork City). She was also an organiser for the 'Club 56' group in Cork City.

At the IRA’s 1933 General Army Convention, Mitchell posed a question that underscored his deeper political concerns:

“What are we fighting for — is it to just put up another flag?”

This statement is recorded in Brian Hanley’s ‘The IRA, 1926–1936,’ where Hanley notes it reflected an internal critique of superficial nationalism, and a call for genuine social transformation.

Mitchell, like several contemporaries, urged the Anti-Treaty IRA to adopt a more radical, socio-economic agenda. He appears to have been amongst those who advocated ‘distributist’ principles— a “third way” between capitalism and communism.

Though this period was ideologically fluid, Mitchell’s vision, as also seen in some of his belongings, clearly leaned towards the revolution as a partially social one. Despite his military brilliance, Mitchell avoided self-promotion. He refused to be interviewed or contribute to memoirs, telling those who asked that “nobody can write my story.”

The tactics developed by Mitchell and Barry — mobility, local intelligence, deception, and shock ambushes — became templates for modern guerrilla warfare, later studied at Sandhurst and West Point.

In later life, Mitchell settled near Kerry Pike, Cork, and lived quietly. He judged sheep at agricultural shows. Despite repeated state surveillance and threats, he never renounced his beliefs. When he died in 1971, he was buried at St. Finbarr’s Cemetery in Cork city centre. At his graveside, Tomás Óg MacCurtain, son of the martyred Lord Mayor, declared:

“He was larger than life. Like a flaming torch in the darkness of disillusion and defeat, reminiscent of a hero from the Cú Chulainn sagas.”

Herbert ‘Sean’ Mitchell remains one of the most under-recognised leaders of Ireland’s revolutionary period. In many ways, he was a core part of the Anti-Treaty movement — not just fighting for a domestic parliament, but for a society based on truly Republican principles. His question — “Is it to just put up another flag?” — is almost word-for-word the sentiments expressed in Ken Loach’s ‘The Wind that Shakes the Barley,’ and continues to challenge the assumptions of contemporary Irish nationalism to this day.