The term ‘Baluba’ entered the wider Irish lexicon around the 8 November 1960. Used to describe someone who is untrustworthy and barbaric, the expression made its lexicographical debut on the back of the infamous Niemba ambush where nine Irish soldiers were killed during the Irish Army’s peacekeeping expedition with the United Nations Operation in the Congo. The eponymous Balubas, a local tribe, perpetrated the attack on the 33rd Irish Battalion that was patrolling in the area. The ambush has since become a historical checkpoint in Irish military history. The shocking barbarous nature of the ambush captured the public’s attention as it brought the reality of war in the Congo home. UNOC was the first international operation that the Irish Defense Forces had participated in, and as such there was a degree of excitement and pride surrounding the enterprise. The Niemba ambush was the first legitimate stumbling block that faced the Irish in their new international capacity, and it’s interesting to see how the events abroad affected feelings at home.
There are several disparities in how the details of the ambush were reported, but drawing from the eyewitness accounts of survivors and soldiers who came upon the scene a day later it isn’t difficult to see how unsettling the Irish people found the event. The details recounted by two of the survivors reads more like an extract from a spaghetti western than the events of real life. The ambush was morbidly fantastical enough to capture the public imagination, but had just the right degree of locality injected into it in order to give it the essence of tangible tragedy.
It may seem foolish to think that the Irish could have been so naïve as to negate such a possibility, but such credulousness was a consequence of the overbearing positivity that surrounded the mission.
The significant impact of the ambush was the affect it had upon the general mood regarding the Congo operation. Up to this point the entire exercise had been perceived almost as an innocent adventure for the Irish lads, up for a bit of craic. There was an air of gaiety surrounding the expedition, and the Niemba ambush served to sour the Irish Army’s involvement in the Congo. It brought home the reality that death was practically an assurance in a warzone. It may seem foolish to think that the Irish could have been so naïve as to negate such a possibility, but such credulousness was a consequence of the overbearing positivity that surrounded the mission. Writing about the event, Cathal O’Shannon recalls:
“It was at Niemba that innocence died for the Irish Army in the Congo. For the first time, Ireland saw the sons who had marched off so gaily putting their lives on the line thousands of miles away.”
The sense of pride that the Irish people felt in the army was mirrored in their actions and good wishes. There was a palpable friendly jingoistic fever that captured the nation. When the UN first announced that it would be calling on Ireland for assistance in the Congo, it was reported by the Irish newspapers with an air of surprised smugness. Ireland was a small and relatively young independent nation; such an invitation was met with delighted surprise. It was a validation of the Irish nation by the international community and it also brought to light the commendable work carried out by fifty Irish officers two years previously in the UN Observation Group in the Lebanon. Being invited as one of three European nations to serve in the UNOC signaled an international approval of Ireland, thus it cannot be surprising that the country was brimming with pride.
The international praise was having a positive effect in Ireland. It gifted the country a much-needed sense of self-worth. Following a particularly grim 1950s, Ireland required something to revive its spirits. This bolstered national self-esteem manifested itself in a generous rallying about the troops destined for the Congo. Brigadier-General Patrick Diarmuid Hogan, remembers several companies in Dublin offering their services to the Irish Army to help with the peacekeepers’ ration packs.
The Irish Times carried full-page photo spreads of the 32nd Battalion leaving the Baldonnel airfield. The Irish public was enthralled with the entire escapade as it tapped into the escapist desires of the Irish psyche. The paper carried photos of smiling young men dressed in their number one uniforms jostling amiably with one another. It appears that no one in Ireland was immune to the intoxicating effects of the jingoism surrounding the mission.
The hours of prayers and rosaries held for the protection of the Irish men in the Congo were effectively nullified by the attack.
With all this in mind it isn’t difficult to understand just how hard Ireland took it when news of the Niemba ambush reached Irish shores. The Balubas were a bizarre and foreign entity to the Irish public. Independent T.D Frank Sherwin summed up the Irish conception of the Congo when he said: “To me and most Irish people the Congo is as remote as outer space.” The Irish public had invested so much of themselves into the Irish soldiers; the attack felt all the more personal. The hours of prayers and rosaries held for the protection of the Irish men in the Congo were effectively nullified by the attack. Whilst only six hundred and fifty men were sent out originally, the Irish public felt like they had a personal relationship with each of them. The strength of these ties is evident in the Trojan efforts made to fundraise for the soldiers, including £1,000 worth of donations and gifts being received by the Comforts for Irish Troops Overseas Committee.
Whilst some members of the Irish Defense Forces appreciate that the Balubas were more than likely not targeting the Irish soldiers, the Irish at home couldn’t help but feel like they had been personally attacked themselves. The survivors maintain that they would never blame the Balubas for the attack, believing that the natives had mistook them for a group of Belgian soldiers or mercenaries. They even go so far as to sympathise with them, fully aware of how the black Congolese had been brutalized by Belgian colonialism.
The effect of the Niemba ambush on Irish society’s perception of the army was massive. The attack punctured the swelling pride that was emboldening the nation. The professionalism of our soldiers was called into question, which wasn’t received well in Ireland. It presented a stumbling block to the development of the Irish military and Ireland’s position as an international force. However Ireland managed to regain its composure. Ireland’s position in future UN peacekeeping operations was preserved due to an impressive handling of the siege at Jadotville the following September. The Irish managed to come back from the attack but with a more realistic viewpoint. When the 32nd Battalion landed in the Congo for the first time there was this sense that the Irish believed our soldiers were invincible. “The Irish soldier is a very friendly guy when he is out anywhere. He is never aware or thinks about danger.”
The Niemba ambush awoke the Irish to the fact that Irish soldiers will die in the line of service and perhaps it can be reasoned that the ambush was a healthy, if tragic, lesson that the Irish people and army needed to learn.