In Chapter 3, Lucian Gregory attempts to run for the position of the new Thursday within the Supreme Council of Anarchy. Despite not being an anarchist himself (and deploring every one of their values), Syme gives a speech challenging Gregory’s candidacy in favor of his own—and wins. This outcome is an example of dramatic irony:
Comrade Gregory has told us, in only too apologetic a tone, that we are not the enemies of society. But I say that we are the enemies of society, and so much the worse for society. We are the enemies of society, for society is the enemy of humanity, its oldest and its most pitiless enemy (hear, hear). Comrade Gregory has told us (apologetically again) that we are not murderers. There I agree. We are not murderers, we are executioners (cheers).
The pledges of violence and extreme militant action Syme makes in the quote above are met with raucous applause from his audience. Throughout the passage, Syme firmly aligns himself with the most strict rhetoric of the anarchist movement, professing to possess goals and values that the reader knows are actually antithetical to his true beliefs. His vehement takedown of Gregory’s speech continues:
Comrade Gregory accuses me of hypocrisy. He knows as well as I do that I am keeping all my engagements and doing nothing but my duty. I do not mince words. I do not pretend to. I say that Comrade Gregory is unfit to be Thursday for all his amiable qualities. He is unfit to be Thursday because of his amiable qualities. We do not want the Supreme Council of Anarchy infected with a maudlin mercy (hear, hear).
Syme is unequivocal in his dismissal of Gregory’s speech. The humor of this situation is furthered by the reader’s knowledge that Gregory’s own speech was intentionally defanged in order to throw Syme off the anarchists’ scent. Thus, Syme’s speech is received with heightened approval in contrast to the true anarchist’s preceding words, which is mean to be humorous and ironic.
In Chapter 12, the Secretary attempts to arrest Syme for breaking the law, thus revealing himself to be yet another policeman and not a devoted member of the anarchist movement. This is a moment of both situational irony and dramatic irony, as the Secretary does not know that the man he is attempting to arrest is in fact a would-be ally, another police officer (while the reader and Syme know the full picture):
“There is some mistake,” he said. “Mr. Syme, I hardly think you understand your position. I arrest you in the name of the law.”
“Of the law?” said Syme, and dropped his stick.
“Certainly!” said the secretary. “I am a detective from Scotland Yard,” and he took a small blue card from his pocket.
“And what do you suppose we are?” asked the professor, and threw up his arms.
“You,” said the secretary stiffly, “are, as I know for a fact, members of the Supreme Anarchist Council. Disguised as one of you, I—”
The certainty with which the Secretary asserts that Syme is a member of the Supreme Anarchist Council is equal to the hilarity of the scene when he discovers, only a moment later, that none of the council members are actually anarchists at all. Chesterton uses irony in these revelations to invoke larger considerations of identity and faith. Each time the detectives encounter another undercover ally, they are forced to question everything they know thus far regarding the rebellious anarchists they aim to subvert. With every test of their resolve and determination, the detectives, and Syme in particular, are brought closer to their faith.
