John Jinks T.D. Is it true that phrase Jinxed originated with him

MarchDub wrote: »

Yeah - I thought so.:D

Dáil Éireann 21 March, 1928

PRIVATE DEPUTIES' BUSINESS

REVIEW OF PRISONERS' CASES
—PROPOSED SELECT COMMITTEE

Mr. LEMASS: I think it would be right to inform Deputy Davin that Fianna Fáil is a slightly constitutional party. We are perhaps open to the definition of a constitutional party, but before anything we are a Republican party. We have adopted the method of political agitation to achieve our end, because we believe, in the present circumstances, that method is best in the interests of the nation and of the Republican movement, and for no other reason.

Interesting how he spells it out. Even more interesting is a slightly more elaborate explanation, Not on the original list but see what happens when instead of 'slightly constitutional party' the drop the word party.

Dáil Éireann, 18 May, 1928

PETITION FOR
INITIATION OF CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENTS

Mr. LEMASS: Because every word of the Minister's speech here was in direct contradiction to the speech delivered by the President on the last day that this motion was debated. As a Deputy who, when this question was raised some time ago, did not hesitate for one moment in describing himself as being only slightly constitutional, the President's speech on Wednesday last, I think, justifies me in claiming him as a colleague.

I think that a large section, at any rate, of the Cumann na nGaedheal Party in their attitude in this matter have shown themselves to be only slightly constitutional as well.

Both the President and myself are agreed apparently that the Constitution is an intolerable nuisance only to be obeyed when it suits us, and in so far as it suits us, and be ignored when it happens to be inconvenient. I strongly suspect that the Minister for Defence and the Minister for Agriculture are with us in our attitude, although, in view of the effect which the President's speech has created they are anxious to give a veneer of legality to their attitude. Deputies O'Connell and Davin are, of course, constitutionalists. We can afford to ignore those—we can deal with those. If we can get agreement between the two big Parties in this House to regard the Constitution as a nuisance—something of no significance, something that can be ignored when occasion requires—then I think we will have cleared the way very considerably towards the establishment of proper canons of political honesty in [1757] this country. We, however, before deciding upon having that particular fact clearly recognised by the people must reckon with the opposition we are likely to encounter. We have it already indicated clearly that Deputy O'Connell and the Labour Party will oppose our unconstitutionalism. However logical and reasonable that may sound, their numbers in this House, I think, are not sufficiently great to enable them to impede us in our work.

There are other Deputies who are likely to be as strictly constitutional as the Labour Party. We know that the word has gone forth from the “Irish Times” to those who adopt its political creed on this matter. In this morning's issue of that paper, you will find that stated in the leading article:

Mr. Cosgrave's incontinent rejection of it, (that is the petition) therefore, may be interpreted, not unreasonably, as a violation of the Constitution; and such violation must be regarded as a dangerous precedent. We can imagine easily the use Mr. de Valera might make of it if, at some future time, his Party should take office. The Constitution can be amended by Parliament but, as it stands, it is sacred. Any other attitude to-day—especially by Ministers —opens an alarming vista of irregularity and lawlessness.

The order is gone forth to the Constitutionalists that President Cosgrave and myself in having this Constitution relegated to the scrap heap will have to reckon with considerable opposition from that quarter.

“So gather round, my boys,
Sinn Feiners scorning,
Let your voices roll across the floor,
For the Constitutional movement, now take warning,
Must go on and on and on, for evermore.”

http://www.gov.ie/oireachtas/archives/launch.htm#%22...an%20equality%20of%20votes...%22

Result

Following the general election Cumann na nGaedhael were able to form a government with the support of the Farmer's Party and other Independent TDs. The Labour leader, Thomas Johnson, lost his seat in the election and subsequently retired from politics.

MarchDub wrote: »

Just want to add - I looked up your FSL Lyons reference. I know you were uncertain about it but he was definitely not the one to suggest that the name Jinks gave rise to the word Jinx. Which I know has been established as in use long before our friend Jinks.

Lyons' only comment at the end of his discussion on the topic is that the name Jinks "was carried for several years by a successful racehorse."

The Irish Times - Thursday, December 9, 2010
An Irishman's Diary

Frank McNally
EVEN in these dire times, the word “boycott” continues to be a source of national pride. It is now all of 130 years since it began life as a humble noun/verb start-up, located unpromisingly in impoverished rural Mayo. Despite which, it has gone on to become one of our most enduring exports.
If anything, its popularity is still growing. In the past week alone, Sudan was reported to have boycotted the EU/Africa summit; at least 18 different countries were planning to boycott the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony; and combining politics with sport – an area in which the word has fared especially well – left-wingers in Israel were calling for a boycott of the inaugural Jerusalem marathon next year.
Which just goes to show that if you give the world something it needs, attractively presented and packaged, repeat business is all but guaranteed.
But consider by contrast the fate of another noun-verb, also a surname, that this country once offered to the world and that, a mere 80 years ago, seemed to have a similarly bright future. I refer of course to the word “Jinks”, derived from the eponymous Sligo TD John, who made global headlines in 1927 by saving the Cumann na nGaedheal government.
The story is well known. In the wake of the assassination of Kevin O’Higgins, the ruling party had forced Fianna Fáil’s entry into the Dáil, thereby threatening its own majority. A no-confidence motion was duly tabled, and with the support of FF, Labour, and others, looked likely to succeed; leading to the formation, without an election, of a new government.
The numbers were tight up until the last minute. But Alderman Jinks, a vestige of Parnell’s old Irish party, quietly absented himself from the Dáil chamber shortly before the division, which was tied 71-71, allowing the Ceann Comhairle’s casting vote to save the administration.
The alderman’s immediate notoriety was no doubt helped by a colourful surname, to which was added the colourful circumstances attributed to his abstention. Specifically, two Sligo friends, including the Irish Times editor RM Smyllie, were rumoured to have conspired in his absence. Decades later, even that most sober of historians, FSL Lyons, was still speculating “as to whether they achieved this result by an excellent luncheon which the alderman was obliged to sleep off in his hotel, or whether they simply sent him home on the next train to Sligo”.
The truth may have been more prosaic. Jinks was inclined to vote for the government anyway, but his party leadership had instructed him differently. Thus, excellent luncheon or not, he was conflicted. Besides, based on known voting intentions, he had reason to think that the no-confidence motion would carry, regardless of his actions.
But in the event, his abstention proved pivotal. And amid relief in establishment circles that Fianna Fáil’s ascension to power had been postponed (for five years, as it happened), the Sunday Independent reported that Mr Jinks had “won immortality”.
So it must have seemed. In fact, the term to “do a jinks”, meaning to absent oneself at a key moment, did enjoy a certain currency for a while. And their shared Connacht ancestry apart, “jinks” and “boycott” would have made natural companions: both of them describing an action that is, essentially, the absence of action, but in different degrees.
The problem was that the English language already had a “jinks” and, for good measure, a “jinx” too. Not only that, but in their broadest sense, those two words already seemed to have Ireland’s 1927 political crisis well covered.
The verb “to jinx”, meaning “to bring bad luck” on something, most likely derives from a famous Vaudeville song of the 1860s: Captain Jinks and the Horse Marines , which was about an incompetent soldier.
Which incompetent soldier may have taken his name from the once-popular dice game, High Jinks: a key point of which was that the losers had to consume alcohol. And that title in turn probably derived from the Scottish verb, to jink, meaning to move in an unexpected or elusive manner.
Thus the name “John Jinks” was itself a sentence, describing – albeit loosely – what the deputy for Sligo did on that fateful day in 1927, with indirect references to the bringing of bad luck (on the no-confidence motion), and even to the consumption of alcohol. No wonder his name was not considered a necessary addition to the English language.
Worse still, from the point of view of any Dáil members who, even now, may be considering a similar bid for glory, Jinks lost his seat in the next election, which followed only three months later. And in the absence of a lexicographical monument, the Sligo man had to settle for a temporary tribute in another sphere.
As FSL Lyons put it: “Mr Jinks, his moment of fame fulfilled, passed from the political stage, though not entirely from memory, since his name was carried for several years by a very successful racehorse.”

http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/opinion/2010/1209/1224285097389.html

John Jinks' boozy lunch



Shortly after the "empty formula" episode, De Valera sought to put pressure on Cosgrave and his government, which was now a minority with just 47 of the 153 seats. De Valera was eager to topple his bitter political rivals Cumann na nGaedheal so he offered support to the Labour Party, which had 22 deputies, if its leader, Tom Johnson, could put a coalition together.


Along with a number of smaller political groupings such as the National League, Labour placed a motion of no-confidence for 16 August 1927. Given the support of the 44 Fianna Fáil deputies, Johnson's motion seemed guaranteed to succeed. But on the day of the vote, government TD and former unionist MP Major Bryan Cooper bumped into the National League TD for Sligo, John Jinks.


Cooper quickly detected Jinks' unhappiness at the prospect of voting with De Valera and invited him to lunch to discuss the matter further. Cooper then plied Jinks with alcohol over the lunch and escorted him in a befuddled state to Westland Row train station.


As the vote on the confidence motion was taken later that afternoon, Jinks was snoozing on the train to Sligo. The vote was tied at 72 votes for and against the motion and the Ceann Comhairle Michael Hayes' casting vote saved Cosgrave and his government.


Jinks made headlines in publications across the world, including Time magazine.

http://www.tribune.ie/news/home-news/article/2011/jan/23/pistols-at-dawn-and-high-jinks-some-other-gubu-mom/

• Eamon Gilmore seemed like a viable possibility for Taoiseach, earlier in this two-year election campaign.
  He may have brought Labour to record poll numbers, but he's not the closest a Labour leader has ever got to leading the government.
  That honour belongs to Thomas Johnson (pictured), leader of the Labour party in the 1920s, who came within one vote of being President of the Executive Council in August 1927 – and that vote was the casting vote of the Ceann Comhairle.
  And had an opposition deputy named John Jinks not gone AWOL for the vote, the casting vote would not have been needed, and Labour would have won it.
  The June 1927 election saw WT Cosgrave's Cumann na nGaedheal win 46 seats and Éamon de Valera's Fianna Fáil, then still an abstentionist party, win 44 seats. Johnson's Labour won 22. The new National League Party, a coalition of unionists, Anglophiles and anti-Cumann na nGaedheal-ers, won eight seats.
  That August, Fianna Fáil decided to enter the Dáil, and promptly supported a vote of no confidence. De Valera agreed to back Thomas Johnson for Taoiseach, promising his support for a minority Labour-National League coalition. On paper, they had the numbers, just about.
  The no confidence debate was scheduled for the afternoon of Friday, August 19. William Redmond's National League met at 2pm, and unanimously decided to back the motion, seemingly putting it beyond doubt. (Just in case, Desmond FitzGerald, father of Garret, had risen from his sick bed to attend the vote.)
  With the result assumed to be a foregone conclusion, the debate was desultory. "Worse speeches have rarely been heard in Leinster House", reported the Irish Times.
  Thomas Johnson's opening statement was "halting and indecisive". There was "no enthusiasm, no applause, hardly any interest; for one felt that everything was cut and dried."
  The debate dragged to a close, the motion was put to the house, and a division was called.
  "Then comes the astonishing whisper: 'Where is Alderman Jinks?'," recorded the Times.
  "Eager eyes scanned the benches for the burly National Leaguer from Sligo. A short time previously he had been in his place...but now he was nowhere to be seen."
  "With a sensational turn of the tables, the whole position had been reversed."
  With Jinks absent, both sides were level at 71 votes, and the Ceann Comhairle duly voted in favour of the government.