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There is a lot for a monarchist and a nationalist to say about the Easter Rising. Indeed there are even things for them to criticise, analyse, explain and yes, perhaps even to moan about. There is something good to be said for a society where the journalistic class, had they been doing what their vocation demands of them and holding the nation to account and ponder sceptically over its national myths. Perhaps there is even a religious concern about whether or not the Easter Rising and its subsequent rebellion and war was truly a Just War.
But I will not be entertaining such thoughts today.
On this day, the centenary of the Easter Rising, the event is the de facto founding of the Irish State. It is the proof of a hundred years of Irish mastery over the destiny of their own nation. It is the memory of the blood and fire that is the birth pang of nationhood. And it is hated from all quarters.
The Guardian newspaper hates this day. It hates it because it is Christian and Irish, it hates it so, that it dredges up a Jesuit Theologian by the name of Seamus Murphy, who condemns the rising as anti-Christian because it was not a Just War, claiming he is a leading theologian. I had never heard of the man until today and I discovered he had not problem backing unjust wars over ten years ago when the West invaded Iraq to topple Saddam. And at the same time this same said newspaper, eager to convince its readers all the smart and important people were on its side of the debate produced another article condemning the Easter Rising's Catholicity and for bringing in a century of 'Catholic Darkness'. It is telling this newspaper is all too ready to bash Ireland and the Church but does not hesitate to use the Church's men to do damage to one or the other when it suits them. Hypocrites.
The Independent bemoans the celebration and attacks the proclamation as being completely antithetical to the Ireland of today. It is entirely correct. Where this newspaper rages that the proclamation which announced the nation's birth promised equality of opportunity instead of equality of outcome, it is completely correct. Where it hates that the proclamation is not a left wing document because its promise of equal rights to men and women is not a fundamentally left wing idea, it is completely correct. Where it sneers that the proclamation is not socialist, nor even social democratic but rather it is fundamentally nationalist in character, it is entirely correct. The Independent is entirely correct that the proclamation has nothing to do with the modern slave state the Irish Republic has become, how could it be?
The proclamation announces nationhood, it announces the Irish people as distinct among the nations and peoples of the world, it proclaims its glory and right to veneration and promotion, it claims ownership and the loyalty of its sons and daughters and its exiled children and descendants in far off lands, it proclaims the right of its laws and culture its ownership of territory, its sovereignty, it divides the entire human race into its two primary component parts when it says 'Irishmen and Irishwomen', it invokes God the most High and Ireland's honoured ancestors within its first sentence. It announces these things with pride and vigor, written by men who were ready, and did, to draw the sword to defend their words and to die like men.
It announces nationhood, when the 'modern' man hates nations.
It announces pride, when the modern man hates pride in anything other than himself and his filth.
It announces loyalty, the modern man rebels against anything but the tyrant who feeds him his filth.
It announces tradition, and history, the modern man despises the past for he has no future.
It announces kinship, the modern man hates family and children.
It announces manhood and femininity, the modern man is effeminate and hates both.
It announces strength, the modern man is pathetic.
It announces God, the modern man is the devil.
It is everything the Irish nation was, everything the Irish nation should be, and everything the Irish Republic is not. No wonder the West Britons, the Europhiles, the Internationalists, the Socialists, the Traitors and amorphous morlockian dredges of filth masquerading as men hate it so. It is a memory of what once was, and what one day may become so again in a still yet more glorious dawn one fair Easter morn.
I will not countenance such treason, not today, I will hold my peace. Today is a day to be proud, today is a day to remember and never to forget that Ireland was once upon a time proud, rich in heritage where it was poor in the pocket. Strong in the arm when it was not strong in industry. Faithful and unwavering in its vision for the future when all around it stronger powers played their games. Remember that, keep that flame alive and that Ireland will never die so long as you and yours shall live. For more miraculous resurrections have occurred over Eastertide, the revival of a nation is a pittance in comparison to the Empty Tomb, however bleak the night may seem.
For one hundred years the Irish flag has waved, remember that when you watch the military might and splendour of our fair isle on parade through our capital and the flag will yet wave a hundred more. Remember where you come from and damn any man a coward and a traitor this day should he sneer at our country and its pride. Demand satisfaction for their words, they will not dare face you nor chance your wrath, for they are not men. Teach your children the price of blood paid in their name, God's own and that of our forebears so that the Easter fire may burn in their hearts and steel gird their souls. Teach them the language of the Gaels and the language of the Romans, so that Gaelige may again become the language of men's laws and Latin the language of men's souls.
Raise the sunburst banner, the four provinces, the royal blue and gold harp of Ireland, stand at attention for the anthem, salute the flag, march and sing and dance and pray for you are a living people, an Easter people, sons of Heaven, of Mary, of St. Patrick and Milésia. He is risen, and today is a new day for us all. Slan go phoile.
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