frankmask

This is an Irish traditional about the Easter Rising of 1916. I can't even read the lyrics without crying. I've never been to Ireland, my ancestors left almost one hundred and fifty years ago, but Irish music moves me more than anything else in the world, and of all the tradgedies that beset this world the Troubles are one of the few that I feel a personal connection to.

The Foggy Dew

'Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They flung out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Britannia's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew.

Oh, the night fell black and the rifles crack
Made "Perfidious Albion" reel
'Mid the leaden rail, seven tongues of flame
Did shine o'er the lines of steel
By each shining blade, a prayer was said
That to Ireland her sons be true
And when morning broke still the war flag shook
Out its fold in the Foggy Dew.

'Twas England bade our Wild Geese go
That small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
or the fringe of the grey North Sea
Oh had they died by Pearse's side,
or had fought with Cathal Brugha
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep,
'neath the shroud of the Foggy Dew.

But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year
And the world did gaze, with deep amaze,
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the Foggy Dew.

Ah, back through the glen I rode again,
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see more
But to and fro in my dreams I go
And I'd kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled, O glorious dead,
When you fell in the Foggy Dew.


The history of Ireland is one of the reasons I despise the concept of White Privilege. 'White' is not a race, a class, or a tribe. To say that all those with pale skin are 'White' is an insult to history and to culture. The Ainu of Hokkaido are 'White'. The Swedes are 'White'. The people of Italy are 'White'. The term is meaningless. It is a blanket generalization that serves to create an us and a them. It creates an idea of a unified, almighty White Race that lords over the peoples of the world, and it throws out all of the suffering that 'White' people have inflicted on each other over the centuries. Ireland is one example, held down alternately by the English and the Church for hundreds of years. The genocidal conflicts of the Balkan states are, in many cases, 'White' people killing 'White' people beacuse they are not of the same race or culture, and evil people in positions of power have fanned the flames of division to create a blind and irrational hate.

I do not deny that in America to have pale skin is to have certain advantages and be subject to certain predjudices that cannot be avoided and quite possibly cannot be removed by the work of any single generation. But the the idea that this is the fault, or the responsibility of all 'White' people is an insult to the life of every person who died as a European serf, every person burned for charges of heresy, every Jew and Rom and Tinker and vagabond who was persecuted simply for being the other. In Russia serfs were held in near slavery until the very eve of the October Revolution, and for months afterward.

I wish that all the peoples of the world would recall that throughout history they have all been oppressed by those who were stronger in arms or wealth or faith. The cultures of the world share many common oppressors, the Armies of the Mongol Khans, Rome, The Spanish Empire, The British, the Emperor of China, the Shogun of Japan. The Pope. The Prophet Mohhamad. Aztecs and Mayans. More recently The United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The People's Republic of China.

Now we move into an era that seems to be one of corporate oppression. In centuries past the death of one strong leader could destroy an Empire, rending it assunder in a bloodbath of sucession. Now those the powers that oppress have been made immortal, an web of interconnected wealth and arms and influence. There is no lord to rise against in revolt, the very framework of society is the oppressing force, and a veneer of Democracy and a strong, underlying faith in the rule of law effectively destroy any direct uprising. To fight within the system is worthless, the powers arrayed against any rebel are far to great to be overcome. To fight outside the system is to be immediately stripped of all allies and support, isolated and destroyed.