THE HILL STATION of Dagshai sits camouflaged in the subalpine belt of the lower Himalayas, far from the hustle and bustle—and at this time of the year, the toxic pollution—of Delhi. It is hard to imagine in this quiet stillness that a mutiny against the mighty British Empire took place.
In June 1920, word of harsh measures being imposed by the Crown’s forces in Ireland reached all the way to soldiers stationed in north India. In protest, troops in Jalandhar refused orders from their officers. News of their action travelled to nearby Solan, where Private James Daly from Ballymoe, County Galway, led 70 fellow soldiers from the Irish Connaught Rangers regiment in an attempt to seize the armoury. The action was quickly halted, the men were brought to Dagshai, and Daly was sentenced to death. Their stand, though short-lived, sent shockwaves through Ireland and it echoed here in India, too.
There are reports that Mahatma Gandhi travelled to Dagshai to meet Daly before he faced execution. According to local historians the Mahatma stayed a night in the cell adjoining Daly’s to keep vigil with the condemned Irish soldier. Their exchange was brief, but its symbolism and meaning has endured. It showed that a struggle for justice in one part of the world could be understood instinctively by those striving for dignity elsewhere.
I thought about that moment during my own moving visit to the prison, imagining the silence, the uncertainty, and the awareness that history was moving.
I travelled on my first expedition to Dagshai in July 2024. I felt a strong sense of connection to the place and its history. The story stayed with me so deeply that I returned later that year to mark what would have been Daly’s 125th birthday. Standing inside his pitch black cell, next to the guest’s cell where Gandhi stood vigil, I understood why this place carries such emotional weight. It is a reminder that our histories not only overlap, they speak to one another.
Both Ireland and India, in the early 20th century, were searching for the same prize: freedom. For the Irish, that quest was complicated by the fact that many of our people lived and worked within the framework of the empire in India. Soldiers, priests, nuns, nurses, doctors, teachers and administrators built lives here, even as they longed for sovereignty at home. Daly’s story reflects that tension: an Irishman stationed in a land seeking its own future, yet prepared to give his life for his own country when news reached him.
Despite these complexities, leading figures in both independence movements recognised each other’s aspirations and drew encouragement from them. Jawaharlal Nehru watched Ireland closely, admiring how Irish leaders asserted the legitimacy of self-determination and how public mobilisation could reinforce constitutional argument. Éamon de Valera often referenced India, describing our nations as sharing “parallel injuries and parallel hopes”.
Subhas Chandra Bose, during his time in Europe, sought out Irish perspectives and pointed to Ireland as evidence that disciplined resolve could challenge imperial power. Towering over these shared moments stands Annie Besant, an Irishwoman who became a powerful advocate for India’s home rule and who rose to lead the Indian National Congress.
These intertwined histories shaped the relationship that followed. When India achieved independence in 1947, Ireland was among the first countries to offer recognition, not simply diplomatically, but out of understanding. Nehru’s visit to Ireland in 1949, when he became the first foreign guest to address Dáil Éireann (lower house of Irish parliament) after Ireland became a republic, reinforced that connection. So, too, did de Valera’s role as guest of honour at celebrations marking India’s republican status in 1950.
Today, more than 100,000 Indians call Ireland home, and our cooperation continues to flourish across education, research, culture and global affairs. Yet beneath these modern ties flows an older current, one shaped by courage, empathy and shared memory.
The story of Private Daly is but one chapter, yet it captures something essential. That the story of Ireland and India is inherently linked: by experience, sacrifice and a belief that freedom, once won, binds people together across distance and time.
The author is Irish ambassador to India.